TRANSFORMERS: CYBERTRON SAGA
NOBLE DEMON Special #4: Gestalt.
byline: Anubis C. Soundwave
Scene: 1
"Whoo!" crows Air Raid, delighted, as he lands with Fireflight and Slingshot. "These flight parks are fun!"
"I'm surprised we don't have anything like this in Hikage City," muses Fireflight.
"They did during the Provisional period of Cybertron's history," says Fitor, smiling with Karakawa. "When Angel was Premier."
"If that's the case," says Air Raid, optics bright as he beams with glee, "then when the War ends: flight parks in every sector of Cybertron. It will be law."
"I don't know if the Autobots would care about that," says Fireflight.
"Ah, they'll get some Stunticon-proof racetracks put in," scoffs Air Raid. "Gotta give the Constructicons something to do when we beat Megatron."
Silverbolt, pouting, strides toward the group of jet mecha.
"Why do I hear crying?" asks Karakawa.
"I...ran out of diplomatic ways to express to that little girl," says Silverbolt, giving Karakawa a thin smile, "that I don't fucking need training wings."
"You can't blame the kid for thinking that, Bolt," says Slingshot, trying to suppress a grin.
"Exactly," adds Skydive, patting Silverbolt's shoulder. "You were this massive Class Three trembling on the launch ramp, standing between them and their fun."
"And you were torqued at me," says Fitor, "when I shoved you off."
"To be fair," says Karakawa, "even I didn't realize the full extent of your akrophobia, or I would have cautioned against Daizaburo-san's action."
Silverbolt sighs. "Are you about to put on your work hat again, miss?" he asks.
"Helping others cope with their psychological issues isn't work to me," says Karakawa. "Most of the time, anyway."
"I know the Guardians are giving you a serious workout," grins Air Raid.
"I'm...not going to answer that," says Karakawa.
"I'll answer-if you don't mind, Sakura-san," says Fitor. "Most of your clients come to you with known psychological issues that they're willing to trust you with," he continues, "and they're ready to partner with you to resolve them."
"You'd think the Guardians would be happy to have someone they can talk to," wonders Fireflight.
Karakawa and Fitor laugh at this.
"To be fair," says Slingshot, "the Guardians are soldiers. They ain't the type of mechs willing to lie on a couch and talk to some hapless civilian about their feelings."
"Without breaking confidentiality agreements," says Karakawa ruefully, "I've caught onto this quirk on day one."
Fitor draws Karakawa to his side with a friendly arm around her shoulder. "Sakura-san: no more thoughts of work," he says.
"Come, gentlemen," says Silverbolt to the other Aerialbots, "we need to leave these two alone. Quickly." With that, Silverbolt transforms and takes off.
"Yeah-before the parents of that little girl you swore at reconfigure you into a toaster," snorts Slingshot as he transforms, taking off after Silverbolt. The other Aerialbots follow suit.
"What did you mean by that?" asks Karakawa, pouting.
"I tend to say what I mean," says Fitor. "You're having fun with me today, and that's my final word on the subject."
"Ah," says Karakawa, "so what other child-oriented activity can we enjoy together?"
"I don't know," says Fitor, touching the tip of Karakawa's nose with his index finger. "I only brought you here to honor a promise I made to you."
"Except I was a small child when I likely demanded in the shrillest, most immature way possible: that you-who probably wanted to murder me at that point in time-take me to a flight park," says Karakawa.
"I assure you," says Fitor, rolling his optics, "that compared to the likes of 'Yoko', 'Sajiko', and 'Rei'; you are actually rather tame, and your demands-in retrospect-were attainable."
"Dear sir," says Karakawa, "I've certainly outgrown flight parks."
Fitor smiles at Karakawa. "Let's take our leave, then," he says. "I've thought of someplace special for us both."
Karkawa blinks. "Where?" she asks.
Fitor gazes at Karakawa, his smile enigmatic. "To the vault of the stars," he says. He kisses her; the contact is brief, but passionate.
Karakawa trembles as Fitor breaks the kiss; she touches her lip components. "I trust that you...know where this 'vault' is," she says.
Fitor nods.
"Then please," says Karakawa, blushing, "lead the way."
Chuckling, Fitor transforms and takes off, followed by Karakawa.
Scene: 2
Atop another launch ramp, Snoop retracts her binocular visor and lowers her regular visor. "I'm not sure that there's any makeout point called that," she says, grinning, "but I'll definitely find-*"
"Obaasan," says a young tin pet plaintatively, "I want to fly now."
"You ill-mannered little glitch!" spits Snoop, annoyed. "Find another damn ramp and quit bothering me!"
The tin pet's optics fill with lubricant.
Crasher climbs up to the launch ramp. "I'll help you, otouto-chan," she says to the tin pet, handing the tin pet an oil candy. "Kotori-san," she says to Snoop gently.
"What?" snaps Spoons, annoyed.
"Move!" demands Crasher, kicking Snoop off the ramp.
"Your mom's cool for a car mecha," grins another tin pet to Crossword.
"She...certainly has her moments," says Crossword, laughing.
On the ground, Snoop seethes at Crasher; Crasher descends from the launch ramp.
"In all seriousness," says Tic-Tac curtly, "we're all supposed to be at the racetrack in District Thirteen."
"That racetrack is boring," snorts Crossword. "Why can't we go to the one in District Twenty One?"
"Broken," says Crasher.
"District Twenty?" asks Crossword.
"Condemned," continues Crasher.
"That makes it great for stunt racin', ma!" says Zigzag.
"It'll blow out our tires," counters Rube.
"Not only that," adds Jigsaw, "but it's a heavily-restricted area and a haven for criminal activity."
"Of course," says Crossword, annoyed, "there are too many wet thermo-blankets who don't want to go to the only racetrack on Gobotron that matters-*"
"We're not going to District Seven's racetrack!" counter Tic-Tac, Jigsaw, Rube, and Zigzag.
"Why would you want to go there?" sneers Crasher. "There are too many Mold-7s trying to beat Turbo's record on that track-most of whom are related to him."
"Pocket would go with me," pouts Crossword, "but Sunstreaker dragged him off due to fragging visitation rights."
"Forget it, darling," says Snoop, glaring at Crasher. "Let's just go back to my house. I have videogames."
"Sure; why not?" shrugs Crossword. "As long as they're new and actually from a real video game company: I'm sick of fiddling around with that wretched Roger Rabbit game."
"I'm not mean like Turbo," says Snoop. "I'd never foist a game like that onto you."
"It disgusts me how you're trying to curry favor with him," says Crasher, annoyed.
"What can I say?" preens Snoop. "I have a natural talent with children."
"The hell you do, lady!" spits the tin pet Snoop had yelled at earlier.
"With civilized, well-behaved kids," sneers Snoop, "not unruly brats. That's her department," she adds, jerking her thumb at Crasher. Surly, Snoop transforms and takes off.
"That old lady's just cranky," grins Crasher.
"Maybe she hasn't had her nap," says a tin pet, polishing her training wings. "My grandma's like that."
"We'll let you all think about that," says Crasher, taking to the air with Crossword, Rube, and Zigzag. The four car mecha follow Snoop's trajectory to District Forty-Five.
Sighing, Jigsaw follows after the group, joined by Tic-Tac.
Scene: 3
"What seems to be troubling you?" asks Tic-Tac after a moment.
"Why aren't you using the LAN?" asks Jigsaw, irritated.
"Because you and I both know that our fellow Akira will have a fit if we try to disabuse him of any solo excursions to District Seven," spits Tic Tac. "He's insufferably stubborn and intractable when fixated on an idea."
"So," drawls Jigsaw. "No takers on the bet that he'll try to sneak off to that racetrack no matter what anybody tells him?"
"Not even if I had the credits to cover the bet, Yugi-anchan," says Tic-Tac. "Without Shougane to play with, he gets bored and lonely rather quickly."
"It's annoying to be the oldest," says Jigsaw, "and the 'lower torso' jokes get to you after a while."
"Try being the second-eldest, the head, and the leader of the gestalt team," grins Tic-Tac, "whom no one will heed."
"You really can't think with your fists," says Jigsaw. "It's difficult to get him to recognize that because he's actually really smart."
"I'm just as smart as he is!" fumes Tic-Tac.
"We're all actually rather smart," says Jigsaw, calm. "The reason for Akira's insubordination is due to your insecurity regarding your standing with Cy-Kill. We all have to accept the strong likelihood that none of our Gobot data contributors will perceive us as family."
"The lot of you are so aggravating!" seethes Tic-Tac. "Am I the only one of our unit who can see the big picture?" he adds. "Frankly, we don't want to rely solely on mother and each other; we want to see ourselves incorporated into a greater whole."
"You have to offer evidence, buster," says Jigsaw.
"Just the facts, Mr. Dragnet?" quips Tic-Tac. "Very well. Your positive emotional state elevates, and your internal temperature regulates, every time Hiroko calls you 'baby brother'. This also occurs whenever Seto places his hand on your head," he adds, "or when Hiroto and Katsuya invite you to play with them."
"Liking the Yasuragi siblings because they're nice hardly means I believe they've accepted me as clan," says Jigsaw curtly, "or that I want their acceptance in that way."
"The six of us all have maladaptive means of expressing our need for acceptance from our primary data contributors," counters Tic-Tac. "As my auxiliary function is to handle everyone's thoughts," he continues, tapping his head, "I refuse to lie to myself about what my feelings are on the matter."
"But we're a team," says Jigsaw. "We have to stick together."
"Then it's wisest," says Tic-Tac, "to know the details of each individual component-of each piece: that we may form a more cohesive, unbreakable whole...and solve this grand puzzle which is our lives."
"Then what do we do about Crossword's impulsiveness?" asks Jigsaw, worried.
"One of us will need to do what Pocket would do if he were here: go with him and cover him," says Tic-Tac.
"Confound it all," says Jigsaw.
Scene: 4
"Senator," says Turbo, calm. "Let's think this through rationally."
Senator Karakawa stares at Turbo, a panicked expression on his face.
"It's not the end of the world if your daughter has a boyfriend," says Turbo. "Think of him as a prospective son-in-law."
"I can't," says Senator Karakawa, surly. "Not. If he's. In my age cohort."
"So the worst-case scenario is that 'Daiza' is a cradle-robber," says Turbo, "which isn't a crime provided that there's mutually-informed consent between the two parties: 'Daiza' and your daughter. You, as an external third party, are intruding on a matter between two adults."
"I am Sakura's father," says Senator Karakawa. "This does not suddenly change with the advent of adulthood."
Turbo sighs. "With all due respect, senator," he says, "I'm not in awe of parenthood, and I don't think parents are infallible and unassailable figures of authority with regard to the needs of their children."
"What would make you say that, Lieutenant Senior?" asks Senator Karakawa.
"My experience with my own parents as a child," says Turbo, "grants me this perspective. Simply put," he continues, "they never allowed me to experience childhood. I can safely assert that my mother and father...were not good parents."
"I just want to protect Sakura," says Senator Karakawa.
"My parents just wanted to prepare me to cope with the duties of being a Guardian," says Turbo. "But what about the kid's needs or desires?"
Senator Karakawa studies Turbo.
"Has it occurred to you that Karakawa Sakura is not an extension of yourself," continues Turbo, "but a person in her own right, independent of you?"
"I take it then," says Senator Karakawa, "that you believe Sakura's personhood confers upon her the right to choose her mates poorly."
"Yes," grins Turbo, "because you can trust her. Not only is she not going into her relationship with 'Daiza' blind," he continues, "but I guarantee you that the same detailed 'what could go wrong' checklist running in your mind has run through hers-for who knows how many K-cycles."
"Then why would she date 'Daiza'?" asks Senator Karakawa.
"Because she wants to be happy, and to be able to open her heart to someone without having to think about how it would reflect on you, or if 'Daiza' or any other potential suitor is actually using her to get to or at you," says Turbo. "Simply put, sir: she's stopped caring because 'Daiza' is a Mold-3 with a deep vocal cadence, beautiful optics, and a charming smile."
"You and I both know quite well who 'Daiza' actually is!" spits Senator Karakawa.
"I won't stipulate to that, sir," says Turbo. "I will say that it could be worse."
Senator Karakawa gives Turbo an irritated pout.
"She could have fallen for me or my boss," grins Turbo.
"I suppose it is good that Sakura hasn't taken complete leave of her senses," says Senator Karakawa, a wry smirk on his face.
Turbo returns the smirk. "Your daughter's not my type, for the record," he says.
"That's understood," says Senator Karakawa. "Corporal Foster has my deepest sympathies." With that, he walks away.
Turbo squares his shoulders. To be fair to my parents, he says to himself, had they warned me about guys like Senator Karakawa, I might have defected to the Renegades. I hope that Fitor gives him an army of grandchildren.
"Would you burden my senpai with so many grandchildren, Turbo?" asks Senator Nanatsuro.
"Senator," asks Turbo, "how did you know what my thoughts were?"
"I have had such thoughts myself," muses Nanatsuro, "ever since Sakura-san had first expressed such interests."
Turbo nods, recalling a memory. "It's actually pretty funny," he says, "to not be surprised at a predictable development."
"Indeed," says Nanatsuro. "One reason you're among the living," he adds, "is that I refused to be that kind of father to Taiko."
"Surely you think she chose poorly?" muses Turbo.
Nanatsuro shakes his head. "He wasn't as bad as that," he says. "Your father simply used up all of his courage to court your mother; there was none left for him to face his inner demons."
"You'd think that as a spacefaring race," says Turbo, "that we'd outgrow childish notions like monsters under our beds."
"Except you and I both know, Taichirou," says Nanatsuro soberly, "that we are the monsters under the bed. Good day to you." Nanatsuro walks away.
Turbo pulls a copy of Watchmen out of subspace and reads, scowling.
Scene: 5
"Choose a star," whispers Fitor, touching Karakawa's chin.
"I'm...seeing so many stars," sighs Karakawa, gently stroking Fitor's chest panel.
"Name the star you like the most," says Fitor. "I'll snatch it out of the heavens and give it to you."
"Daizaburo-san," says Karakawa, touching Fitor's faceplate, "you are my star of the morning."
"Indeed, we've shared forbidden fruits together, my Sakura," says Fitor, kissing Karakawa's neck. "Still, please humor my fancy and pick a star."
"Then..." says Karakawa as she embraces Fitor. She gazes into the night sky, her optics fixed onto a star which seems familiar to her. "That one," she says gently, pointing at the star.
"It is yours, Sakura," says Fitor, entering her, "as I am yours...and you are mine."
"Yes..." cries Karakawa, kissing Fitor.
Scene: 6
In Washington, D. C., on the grounds of the White House, Optimus approaches Fitor; the jetwarrior, flat on his back, whimsically gazes up at a cherry tree.
Optimus crouches down. "Is she bondmate material?" he asks.
"I refuse to answer that," says Fitor. "It's uncivilized to discuss matters of intimacy with a lady."
"No need to be a barbarian, I guess," says Optimus, rising to his feet.
Fitor chuckles.
"Get up," Optimus says, offering his hand to Fitor. "I need to talk to you."
Fitor grabs Optimus' hand and stands, then looks around, noting suspicious glares from men in dark suits. "Whatever you want to discuss with me," he says, "will have to wait until we leave the White House."
"Ah, that's right: your guys held the vice-president hostage four cycles ago," says Optimus, walking away from the cherry tree with Fitor.
"I told my stupid fragger of a friend that we should have headed straight for NORAD," whispers Fitor, "as the vice-president of the US is worthless as a hostage."
"Why would the president be at NORAD?" asks Optimus.
"Because your genius of an arch-nemesis forced Cy-Kill to delay his plans for this sector's capital by a month," says Fitor. "Snoop tracked Air Force One to NORAD the day we hit D. C. with Murchison-but our mission would have been a far greater success had Megatron's minions not dethroned the statue of this sector's most revered leader."
"Indeed," says Optimus. "The Gobot equivalent would be if the Decepticons had dismantled Chopper's statue in the Senate Hall and replaced it with a Megatron statue."
"I will never allow Megatron to defile my homeworld," scowls Fitor. "I'll blow Gobotron up first."
"Cy-Kill would never let you do that," says Optimus.
"Who do you think will be the bomb?" grins Fitor crudely. "I won't have any patience for his multi-tiered schemes and manipulations at that point."
"Some friend you are," snorts Optimus. "He's safer with Leader One as his wingman."
The two mechs leave the White House grounds.
"I guess we'll walk to the airport," says Optimus after a moment.
"No need," says Fitor, transforming. "I have V/STOL capability. Would you like a ride?"
"I'll roll," says Optimus, transforming, "if that's alright with you."
"As you wish," says Fitor. With that, he takes off.
Optimus drives off after Fitor reaches flight altitude, headed due northwest.
Scene: 7
"Technically, Bike Hero no longer exists," says Fitor via internal radio, "and we'd like it to stay that way-believe it or not."
"I'm glad to see that the conditional amnesty's holding. Think they'll legalize energon?" radios Optimus.
"No," says Fitor. "We haven't reached the Promised Land of Common Sense yet."
"It shouldn't matter at this point," says Optimus. "I don't want all of the ex-Renegades-though if you can bring in Crasher and her boys," he continues, "that would be a bonus."
"Leader One has plans for her," says Fitor.
"Which likely involve having her chained to his berth," scoffs Optimus.
"You really think the worst of him, don't you?" says Fitor.
"He shafted us," says Optimus, his tone grim.
"Negative," counters Fitor. "The Beta Cygnus II Pact shafted you and your faction-as it shafts us all. Otherwise, Leader One would have overlooked the fact that you lied to him."
"It's not my fault-or the fault of the people of Cybertron-that Cy-Kill burned him," says Optimus.
"He had a decision to make as Governor-general of Gobotron," says Fitor, "and he had to follow his duty."
"Was I supposed to advise him of the truth: that we intended to storm Vilnacron in a final stand and needed air support?" says Optimus.
"Yes," says Fitor. "Leader One-like all political leaders on Gobotron-will act on what he believes is in Gobotron's best interest; there's never an optic toward the next election on my world."
"Public servants first, eh?" asks Optimus.
"There's no salary for any of the senators, or for the Governor-general; they all have day jobs," says Fitor.
"What about Senator Nanatsuro?" wonders Optimus. "Guardians don't have day jobs like other Gobots."
"Retirement and hazard pay," says Fitor. "The people of Gobotron take care of the Guardians and their families. Naturally," he adds, "those of us in the ranks of the now-defunct Renegades who were once Guardians have forfeited our rights to this pay."
Optimus sighs.
"I'm basically at the mercy of my father," scoffs Fitor, "who will be determined to outlive me so that I don't inherit scrap."
"Hard-aft?" asks Optimus.
"Always," says Fitor, "and I love him for it, for what it's worth. I have a better relationship with him than another ex-Guardian does with his grandmother."
"Yotsuba?" asks Optimus.
"How did you know?" asks Fitor.
"Kup and Senator Nanatsuro are buddies," says Optimus. "Didn't you ever watch Mirai Heitai no Seigi?"
"It was a staple for me as a child," says Fitor. "'Sanji' was always my favorite on the show."
"When did you find out that the events were based on your father's life?" asks Optimus.
"I caught on fairly early," says Fitor, "when my father would laugh at most of the parts featuring 'Sanji' with the Decepticons."
Optimus and Fitor laugh for several minutes as they continue traveling to Oregon.
Scene: 8
"Cy-Kill's grandfather's already dead," muses Optimus. "He died when Cy-Kill graduated from the Academy."
"Yes: between 'Chopper's' retirement and hazard pay, and his death benefit payout left to the next of kin," says Fitor, "Cy-Kill's set for life if he does nothing else...though he did blow a sizable chunk of his inheritance on purchasing Thruster One legally."
"Memories?" asks Optimus.
"Cy-Kill was never one for much sentiment," says Fitor. "He's actually rather cool-tempered. Nothing fazes him."
"Makes him hard to work with, doesn't it?" asks Optimus.
"Yes," says Fitor, "but he's incredibly skilled. If he sets his mind to a goal," he adds, "it will be accomplished."
"Should I try to recruit him?" asks Optimus.
"If you can't handle Leader One," scoffs Fitor, "then you'll hate Cy-Kill."
"Would he try to commandeer my outfit?" wonders Optimus.
"No; he won't waste time with that," says Fitor. "He'd just manipulate you into doing what he wants."
"So, like Ratchet," says Optimus, "except Cy-Kill's not a medic with essential skills that I need."
"If I decide to throw in my lot with you," says Fitor, "then I'll need to understand your team's dynamics."
"I'll tell you a bit of what you already know so far," says Optimus, "based on Autobot Intelligence's observations of your intelligence arm."
"Who would just be Snoop," says Fitor. "That woman worked her aft off for both Bike Hero and Wing Zero...and you're already trying to fit her in with Jazz and his pack."
"Let's see: you, Crasher, Snoop," says Optimus, "and I've got to get Fly Trap in with us. For planets like Earth," he continues, "he's the ideal intelligence operative."
"He never made the cut to join the Guardians," says Fitor.
"But Cop-tur did?" groans Optimus.
"He's not that bad," says Fitor. "Some of his stupidity is obfuscation: his real problem is that he's lazy."
"How often have you had to say this to people who wonder about the kind of Guardian-class Gobots who meet the Guardian standard?" asks Optimus.
Fitor sighs. "Too often," he says. "They list various Renegades-civilian and Guardian-class-who should have been Guardians, and then they point to Cop-tur. It's even bandied about in the Senate," Fitor adds, "whenever some civilian voters are concerned about troop strength."
"Are they within their rights to be concerned?" asks Optimus.
"Only Guardians ranked as Lieutenant Senior and above know that information," says Fitor, "and you won't get any of it from Turbo, Hans-Cuff, or Pathfinder."
"Any casual observer would guess that the Guardians don't have high numbers of troops," says Optimus. "If I were a civilian Gobot, and I knew Megatron was a possible threat to my homeworld held back by a treaty," he continues, "I'd demand that something be done to increase troop strength."
"'Troop strength' isn't determined by numbers alone," counters Fitor.
"Agreed," says Optimus, "but a true military has an army composed of individuals from diverse backgrounds with a multitude of experiences, each individual with unique strengths which will serve his or her homeworld well."
"You'll need more concrete examples than that to impress our Senate," scoffs Fitor. "Senator Nanatsuro tried that argument."
"I'd point out Leader One's forward unit," says Optimus. "It looks like he literally hand-picked the best active Guardians to serve alongside him. None of them suffer from standard Guardian...'groupthink', I think Air Raid called it," he adds.
"Those are the Guardians Leader One personally believes he can trust," says Fitor. "They will stand with him until the end, and won't betray him."
"Indeed," says Optimus. "I would be honored to have any of those guys as Autobots. Even Small Foot-in spite of her idiotic liaisons with Skywarp."
"You wouldn't say that if Skywarp decided to join the Autobots," says Fitor.
"Take that back!" spits Optimus. "My friend and fellow field commander tried to recruit him to the CDF before this frag-pile of a war started," he continues, "but Skywarp worships Megatron."
"Don't be absurd," says Fitor. "Arwings are soldiers at their core; duty is at the heart of what they do: no matter their emotional attachments. They are devoted to completing their mission at all costs."
"And your poor homeworld has the Guardians up against legions of Skywarps and Slingshots-with the occasional Starscream to liven things up," says Optimus.
"I know we're fragged," says Fitor wryly. "That's all I'll say on the matter of troop strength, for the record."
Scene: 9
"The extent of their meddling is a difference of degree, not of kind," says Motormaster.
Slingshot groans. "Why can't you go back to your usual personality, Motorhead?" he asks. You're less of an idiot that way."
"You know it's true," says Motormaster.
"The only thing I know for sure," says Slingshot, "is that when humans say 'misery loves company', they must have meant jack-afts like you."
Motormaster stares at Slingshot.
"The Autobots lucked up and found me in a storage locker near Vector Sigma," Slingshot continues, "popped a plug in my neck, and their-well, mine too-goofy commander's directive was for me to learn, grow, be like his creator, and protect all life and freedom."
Motormaster shakes his head.
"Megatron, your maniac of a commander: after his subordinates had scrambled your mind, then basically left you in extreme sensory deprivation for four M-cycles," says Slingshot, "ordered you to obey him and hate everything you used to agree with."
"So you want to be like Nova Prime?" sneers Motormaster.
"I want to be like Alpha Trion: the guy who not only created Optimus Prime-far more than that frag Nova," answers Slingshot, "but basically created the Cybertron we're fighting to bring back."
Motormaster scowls.
"Getting mad, chief?" asks Slingshot with a grin. "It's okay. Feel free to kill me as a traitor," he says, "if it makes you feel better."
Motormaster chuckles, giving Slingshot a crude grin of his own. "You ain't gettin' out of this the easy way," he says, reverting to his normal voice cadence.
"See? Now there's the Motormaster I know and love to hate!" quips Slingshot.
Motormaster's grin widens.
Slinghsot stares at Motormaster, unsettled. "Okay... Why are you smiling like that?" he asks.
"You seem to think there are two separate, distinct identities in my head," says Motormaster. "If that were the case, I and my now-shit team wouldn't be in the frag-pile we're in."
"How could you fix your bank-switch between 'Maestro' and 'Motormaster'?" wonders Slingshot.
"Neuro-partition," says Motormaster. "I'd have partitioned off the faulty identities of myself and my teammates, and Menasor would be under our control. With the way our minds were scrambled, though," he continues, "it's currently the other way around."
"How?" asks Slingshot.
"When a gestalt unites," says Motormaster, "its super-C assembles its personality in fifteen seconds: about the time it normally takes for the component mechs to merge."
Superion ain't normal, then, muses Slingshot. He takes us over in less than ten seconds, he continues, as though he's always running with each of us in the background.
"It takes ten seconds longer for Menasor because of the neuroscramble," continues Motormaster.
Slingshot touches his chin.
"I'm proud," says Motormaster, a bitter smile on his lips. "It took us almost three cycles to gain that much time as our true selves."
"You'd think you'd be smart enough to try a LAN merge," snorts Slingshot.
"We're not strong enough to overpower Menasor," says Motormaster as his smile fades, his expression calm.
"So: what will you do once you are?" asks Slingshot.
Motormaster studies Slingshot. "Damn," he hisses. "You really were a Tier I cadet."
Slingshot glares at Motormaster.
"I was honestly hoping you'd be eagerly throwing out ideas to 'free' us from Megatron and Soundwave's 'enslavement'," continues Motormaster, a trace of earnestness in his indigo optics.
"I want you free," says Slingshot, "and I'm sure Optimus and the rest of my pit bosses at the volcano want the same thing. But it's like you were honest enough to say," he adds. "It ain't easy to leave the Cause alive, and you're too valuable to the Cause for the Decepticon brass to kill."
Motormaster trembles, his optics glittering with fury.
"You frags have to want freedom for yourselves," continues Slingshot, relentless, "so much that Menasor hungers for it."
"You idiot," spits Motormaster. "You think I-or any of my team-want Menasor as an ally? To hell with that!"
Slingshot folds his arms. "What do you want then, Motormaster?" he asks, unsympathetic.
"I want peace. Harmony. Order. Quiet," says Motormaster, regaining his off-putting composure. "That is the only freedom I need. Megatron's lie can give me that."
"I wonder if that's what every Decepticon says," scoffs Slingshot.
"Silverfrag's rubbing off on you, I see," sneers Motormaster.
"Yeah; and you're his evil, dirt-churning Freight Hauler clone," says Slingshot.
"Frag off," says Motormaster. "Your boss is my evil clone."
"He'll have to be if he's going to lead my squad and yours to rescue us," says Slingshot, laughing.
Motormaster laughs with Slingshot. "You're right," he says as his and Slingshot's laughter subsides. "Once you're in too deep with the Cause, you're all-in," he continues, grave. "There's no turning back, even if you want to."
"Sounds like your army's a damned cult, Motormaster," says Skydive, frowning briefly. He descends into the ravine with Silverbolt, Air Raid, and Fireflight.
"More like a gang," says Silverbolt, narrowing his optics at Motormaster; he looks up at the other Stunticons.
Wildrider, Drag Strip, Dead End, and Breakdown join the other mecha at the base of the ravine.
"So that's why the LAN's off for both our teams," continues Silverbolt, cool as he gives Motormaster an accusing glare. "You're using this cave-in as an opportunity to recruit Slingshot."
"Shut up, Silver-shit!" spits Wildrider.
Silverbolt grips Wildrider's shoulders, then gently taps his helm. "Calm down," he orders quietly.
"Tell this frag to quit trying to handle us!" says Drag Strip, annoyed. "Unfortunately, you ain't as dead as we thought you'd be."
Motormaster snorts at Drag Strip.
"To be fair," Drag Strip continues, pouting, "we aren't so pathetic that we'd want a sky-hating jetwarrior to replace you."
"I'd rather have Optimus," says Wildrider, grinning. "It'd be fun making him a real gestalt torso."
Motormaster stands, dusting himself off. "I'd kill Prime first," he says.
"You're too kind, Motormonster," says Air Raid.
"What can I say, Air Runt? These four frags are my curse," says Motormaster. "I hate the Autobots," he continues, heading to the wall with the other Stunticons, "and frankly, Prime doesn't deserve the wretched honor of merging with them." Motormaster and the other Stunticons climb out of the ravine.
Slingshot stands, then stretches. "Let's head topside so we can recalibrate our flight capacitors," he says.
Silverbolt laughs.
"What?" asks Slingshot.
"I give the orders in this unit, Slingshot," says Silverbolt, touching Slingshot's cheek.
"You're getting too comfortable down here," says Slingshot, his dermaplating warm as he nudges Silverbolt's hand away. "The rest of us want to see the sky again."
"'Comfortable'!?" balks Silverbolt. "You fucks think my akrophobia's a problem," he adds, a rueful grin on his face, "but all of us hate closed-in spaces."
The other Aerialbots give Silverbolt skeptical gazes; Slingshot folds his arms, irritated.
"In short, you're right," continues Silverbolt, "so let's get the fuck back to the surface before Wildrider decides to seal the cave shut."
The Aerialbots clamber up out of the ravine.
Scene: 10
Fitor reviews a set of datapads, looking over the only two applicants in his office: Cop-tur and Loco.
"Come on, Choufunsha," spits Loco. "We're vetted!"
"Has it occurred to either of you that I don't want you in my group?" asks Fitor flatly.
"Nobody else is coming," muses Cop-tur.
"We know you're a hard-aft," fumes Loco, "but you'd think after six M-cycles of knowing us that you'd relax a bit."
"At least with us," adds Cop-tur, "you know what you're getting."
"A psychotic jack-aft," says Fitor, "and a lazy, perverted fragger of a jack-aft."
Cop-tur folds his arms. "I resent the term 'lazy'," he says. "I just like to utilize my time efficiently."
"Then you and Kuruma are both wasting time here, Yotsuba," says Fitor, a wry smile on his face.
Loco scowls at Fitor.
"As this is my outfit," Fitor continues, "I don't have to take on every idiot who shows up."
"Maybe," says Cop-tur, "but there aren't any other idiots here."
"You're just starting out as a merc," adds Loco, "and you've only landed one job. You can't afford to be picky about hired help when you have Tux's conglomerate as competition."
"My grandma could have told you that," says Cop-tur, "but she can go frag herself."
"I'd be impressed if you had the lugs to say that to her face," grins Fitor. "Anyway, why aren't you begging Tux for work?"
"...he rejected our applications," spits Loco after a moment.
"What about Heri-san?" asks Fitor. "She'd take you both on out of pity."
"I'd be a fraggin' errand-boy," snorts Loco.
"No way in hell," mutters Cop-tur, taking off his false beak mask.
"You know," muses Loco, "I was never actually tested for fitness as a Guardian."
"You cut the test," says Cop-tur, "so you were disqualified and summarily ruled as unfit to serve."
"At least it was a plan," says Fitor.
"Turbo was trying to get the Senate to increase troop levels," says Cop-tur, "but they shot him down. There's no backdoor way for us ex-Guardians to get our old jobs back."
"Presuming they'd even take us back," scoffs Fitor.
"We could do some jobs for the Decepti-*" begins Loco.
Fitor fires his blaster at the wall, narrowly missing Loco's head.
"I was going to suggest the Autobots instead," grins Cop-tur.
"I can't believe it," says Fitor. "Cop-tur actually has the better suggestion. However, working with either-or both," he continues, "would violate Gobotron law."
"Damn it: quit anticipating my next thought," pouts Loco.
"Sad to say," says Fitor, "it was my own thought. It would be lucrative, but getting caught by either faction or the Guardians is a one-way ticket to hell."
"We could be galactic black market arms dealers instead," says Cop-tur.
"MARS, Swindle, and Tux," counters Fitor, "to say nothing of the Guardians."
"Maybe we could take some COBRA jobs," wonders Loco.
"As of October 1987, COBRA is functionally dead," says Fitor. "One of the Dreadnoks went back to his old college job," he continues, "and they gave the fragger back pay and tenure."
"Wait...it's because of those COBRA-LA snake weirdos and their spores, isn't it?" asks Loco.
"Yes," says Fitor. "So let's also rule out any work with the eight thousand other ruthless terrorist organizations on Earth," he adds, "as I'm obviously stuck with you."
"Not even HYDRA?" asks Cop-tur.
"None of them pay on time," says Fitor, "and COBRA was the only one who had ever consistently paid Destro at all."
"Let's take a look at the one job you do have," says Loco, picking up a datapad and reviewing it.
"Nothing out of the ordinary for the three of us," says Fitor.
"I don't know," muses Cop-tur. "We had a hard time taking over one planet," he continues, "and we had more help."
"To say nothing of the fact that we're native to the planet we were trying to conquer," says Fitor. "Let's just focus on the present."
"We're taking over this solar system because...?" asks Loco.
"To avenge the deaths of prominent Gobot citizens," says Fitor.
Cop-tur considers Fitor's words, then studies a star map; his optics widen. "That's where-*" he begins.
"Exactly," says Fitor. "The Guardians, understandably," he continues, "can't be so underhanded, but we can afford to be."
"And that's why you three slag-piles should stick to jobs you can handle," smirks a Mold-4 femme.
Scene: 11
"G-grandma...?" wonders Cop-tur.
"Heri-san," sneers Fitor to the femme. "To whom do I owe this immense honor?"
"To me, Daizaburo," says a white Mold-3 as he appears behind her. "You will show Yotsuba-dono proper respect."
"Father," scowls Fitor, "I don't need your help. I refuse to be a burden to you."
"I'm telling the lot of you," says Heri, "that you have a scrap job from Guardian Intelligence."
"The Guardians would never resort to mercenary employment to achieve their ends," counters Fitor.
"Your son's not listening to me, Sanji," says Heri flatly.
"Of course not," snorts Sanji. "Daizaburo has that woman on his mind."
"I don't get it," says Loco.
Cop-tur replaces his false beak mask. "He's doing this to gain access to Karakawa Sakura's ports," he crows.
"Be that as it may, you hopeless romantic," says Sanji before Fitor could counter Cop-tur, "let Guardian Intelligence do its own dirty work. Don't be patsies."
Fitor glares at Sanji and Heri. "Are you two in or not?" he demands, shooting a look at Cop-tur and Loco.
"It's a paying job," shrugs Loco.
"I'm not stuck with Grandma," adds Cop-tur.
Fitor, Cop-tur, and Loco leave.
"Intelligence sure has changed from our day, hasn't it, Turbine?" sighs Heri. "No dignity or elegance anymore."
"INTELDIR's a good man, Kagami," says Sanji, "but his predecessor made things...messy."
"Should we tag Kusanagi?" asks Heri. "Or is he still pounding his head against a wall after today's rotten Senate briefing?"
"Still pounding his head. That poor boy Turbo just wanted to be able to enforce the damned treaty," says Sanji.
"Ah, well: maybe number 289 will be the charm," says Heri wryly.
"Bah," scoffs Sanji. "Our people are simply too decent and kind to foresee the need for a functional military."
Heri sighs; she and Sanji exit Fitor's office.
Scene: 12
Mitarai grabs Turbo's arm as the red mecha enters the lobby of Houshin's office.
"Please let go of my arm," says Turbo, scowling.
"Hey!" says Karakawa. "I thought I was tackling Turbo today."
"No," says Leader One, grabbing Karakawa's hand. "I'm your opponent today." He shoves Karakawa into her office, then enters behind her.
"Let's step into my office," says Mitarai.
Turbo sighs. "How about 'let's not, and say you did'?" he counters. "You're entitled to a day off."
"Both of us would be held in contempt of court," says Mitarai.
"I really don't have anything to say," says Turbo.
"Your body language and facial expressions-or rather: your attempts to restrain your usual emotive expressiveness-already speak volumes to me," says Mitarai. "Now please," he continues, opening the door to his office, "step inside."
Glowering, Turbo complies; Mitarai follows the Guardian inside.
Scene: 13
Forty-five minutes later, Turbo grins, rubbing his hands. "What do you think?" he asks Mitarai.
Mitarai studies various digital artboards, starting with a crude stick figure of a hanging man. "As you're wanting my opinions and impressions on what might be on your mind," he says, "I'll give you my best guess."
Turbo gazes at Mitarai.
"Obviously, the hangman is a combination of your initial mood and your determination to resist any efforts to take this exercise seriously," says Mitarai.
"My initial mood?" wonders Turbo.
"Homicidal or suicidal ideation," says Mitarai. "I think that if Leader One hadn't dragged my colleague into her office, her death would have been in the local paper."
"And I would have been sanctioned," says Turbo, "except I have more control over my emotions than you think."
"No, you don't," counters Mitarai. "You just mask your reactions well-most of the time."
Turbo pouts at Mitarai. "I would not have killed your colleague Karakawa-san. I can distinguish between my vehement political disagreement with her dad and her vigorous efforts to do her job."
"Rationally, yes," says Mitarai, "but not emotionally. Please quit resisting me here," he continues, "and let me do my job."
Turbo levels a nasty grin at Mitarai. "A taste," he says, "of what my day is like."
"My job," says Mitarai, "is to help you develop healthy coping strategies for dealing with the stress from your job."
"I have a response to that," says Turbo, "but that's against Gobotron law."
"What law?" asks Mitarai.
"Electioneering. Numerous Guardian ethics codes are violated, too," says Turbo.
"I see," says Mitarai, walking past several other pictures as they increase in complexity and sophistication. "You're actually a very skilled artist," he says. "I really like the storyboards."
"I've done some storyboards for a biopic of Senator Nanatsuro," says Turbo. "I've presented my work to the producers of Mirai Heitai no Seigi, but my art style doesn't match theirs."
Mitarai stares at Turbo.
"My work's too subtle," says Turbo.
"Subtle?" balks Mitarai, staring at a picture of Turbo, Tonka, Taiko, and Nanatsuro in capes, all laughing maniacally as various senators burn from their combined blaster fire.
"Oh, that," snorts Turbo. "If I presented that sketch to the art director of Mirai Heitai no Seigi, he'd say that the capes aren't dynamic enough," he adds, "and I'll be the first to admit that the staging is pretty weak: it's just the four of us standing around blandly in a semi-circle, firing on the senators. You can present that one to him."
"There's no way this blatant sign of your anger with the Senate is subtle," says Mitarai.
"You must have watched less episodes of Mirai Heitai no Seigi than me," says Turbo.
"Turbo," says Mitarai, "I haven't watched Mirai Heitai no Seigi since I was a kid; my memory's shot on that show."
"What about the one with Starball?" grins Turbo.
Mitarai's optics widen.
"I'm one of two Gobots on this planet who haven't seen that episode," he says, "and even I know that it's basically about Senator Nanatsuro recalling his childhood adventure on Shouri-sei with Lieutenant Senior Hoshinomaru, about two or three M-cycles before the senator joined the Guardians himself."
"Compared to the Mirai Heitai no Seigi episode where there's a Beta Cygni III cigar-chomping Mold-25 in a bomber jacket doing crazy scrap and calling a future senator 'poopy-pants'," scoffs Mitarai, "I'll concede that a picture of the same senator, his daughter, son-in-law, and grandson blasting his Senate colleagues into smoldering piles of scrap metal is subtle."
"The irony is that the other Gobot who never saw the episode was my mother," says Turbo. "She hated how Mirai Heitai no Seigi seemed to trivialize her dad's work as a Guardian."
"What do you think?" asks Mitarai.
"That she didn't know what the hell she was talking about," says Turbo, "as she refused to even watch the show. Those guys have incredible respect for the Guardians, and most of them are consultants for the serious shows depicting the same events more realistically."
Mitarai touches his chin.
"To be fair," says Turbo, "the task of being a Guardian is one that everyone in my clan who has ever served takes very seriously. It's an incredible honor for any Guardian-class mech, and if there's any anger towards her and Tonka," he continues, "it's the fact that they couldn't hold their scrap together-and occassionally laugh at a cheesy episode of Mirai Heitai no Seigi."
"You think that they took themselves too seriously," says Mitarai.
"Along with anything connected to themselves," says Turbo. "Sometimes, even I fall into that trap when it comes to my crazy job."
Scene: 14
"Before we can begin discussing an alliance," says Optimus, glaring at Zero, "you must first release Sparky."
"Ah," says Zero, "but she is a Guardian, and will report us."
Optimus looks toward Red Alert.
"And what, Optimus," asks Red Alert, "would you expect of me in this situation? I would not ask that of her."
"Your commander expects that you could persuade Sparky-kun to forgive my indiscretion against her," says Zero, "as the act of a planetary patriot."
"And what of your act against our field commander, Elita One?" continues Red, noting that the pink Autobot is still bound.
"I will address Zero's business with Elita myself," says Optimus. "Retrieve Sparky and take her to UNECOM."
Red Alert squares his shoulders. "As you wish, Optimus Prime," he says.
Zero presses a button on his console, freeing Sparky from her bonds.
Red Alert rushes to Sparky, restraining her. "Don't move," he whispers.
"I have to...take him down," says Sparky, pushing Red Alert away.
"You're not in any condition to do so," says Red Alert. "Your bonds were designed to drain you of-*"
Ignoring Red Alert, Sparky attempts to fire a blaster; the blaster fails and she falls to the ground.
Red picks Sparky up, cradling her in his arms. "Why must you learn the hard way?" he asks, smiling slightly.
"It's always worth a shot..." says Sparky. "Turbo and Small Foot both...taught me that much."
"Indeed," says Red Alert, "and Turbo will expect you to be at full health before you report to your headquarters to give your report."
Sparky pouts.
"So, if you'll allow me to convince you to explain to your superiors that Optimus has deescalated the situation using diplomacy," adds Red Alert wryly, "then I can also advise you not to inform those superiors of how you refueled."
"...you're an aft-port," says Sparky after a moment.
"All of my compatriots say that about me," says Red Alert. "I have no intention of changing that aspect of my personality." He exits the main bridge of Thruster Rei with Sparky.
Scene: 15
"You're not going to demand that I release your bonded, Optimus?" asks Zero with a bemused grin.
Optimus pinches the bridge of his nose. "Elita prefers this kind of treatment from mechs," he says sardonically, "especially when she's engaged in a damaged auto-drone gambit."
"You know me too well, Optimus," grins Elita, freeing herself from the chains.
"At least we're on speaking terms at the moment," says Optimus. "What business have either of our units with Wing Zero-which technically doesn't exist?" he asks.
"We need either them or the Guardians," says Elita, "to effectively prosecute a proper counteroffensive against the enemy."
"Acknowledged," says Optimus, his tone cool. "I was working on a means to recruit former Renegades which did not require them to break their end of the conditional amnesty with Gobotron."
Elita folds her arms.
"If I could get the best of Bike Hero's operatives onboard with us," continues Optimus, "then the Guardians would have to lend us their assistance-if for no other reason than to ensure my recruits focus their efforts exclusively on the Decepticons."
"Compelling the Guardians to disregard that irrelevant treaty," adds Zero. "Your efforts are laudable, Optimus," he continues, "but futile: the Guardians will act to uphold the treaty, as it is binding Gobotron law; they will not allow you your choices-as I know that Nanatsu-kun has kindly advised you."
"If you mean my chat with Turbo," muses Optimus, "then yes: he basically told me that of my list, only Fly Trap was 'approved'."
Zero blinks a moment, surprise in his optics. "It's an astonishing pleasure to find a member of his clan to be so flexible," he says.
"I suppose so," says Optimus. "He even made extra suggestions-neither of whom I want."
"Were I in your position," says Zero, "I would take Yukimaru. That would guarantee you Bike Hero's unequivocal support. However, you are wise not to take on the burden of Yotsuba-kun...unless you first have Yukimaru."
"Because 'Yotsuba-kun's' useless unless Cy-Kill's around to tell him what to do?" asks Optimus.
"In that manner that Skywarp is," says Zero.
Optimus studies Zero, noting the dark-green jetwarrior's enigmatic expression.
"If you want my unit to become a splinter cell," says Elita, "I can agree to that: if that would help to prevent your efforts from failing."
Optimus stares at Elita.
"If Wing Zero chooses to act against Gobotron directly," says Elita, "I'll accept full responsibility, and I won't let it fall on you. At present, our recruitment efforts are parallel, and if I break off from the Autobot effort, then it can remain that way."
"Even if you lose our support, Elita?" asks Optimus.
"Will I lose the Autobots' support?" counters Elita.
"You would have my personal support, Elita," says Optimus slowly, "but it cannot be followed with material support..."
Elita frowns, understanding in her optics.
"...unless you can ask Zero to stand down," says Optimus to Elita, though he looks at Zero, "and refrain from further buildup of his faction."
Elita blinks at Optimus; Zero touches his chin.
"The hard-won amnesty that both factions of the Renegades have is too valuable-to you, to us, and to Gobotron-to throw away," continues Optimus.
"You would ask me," says Zero, "to fail to prepare for the inevitable?"
"Let's play it Leader One's way for now," says Optimus. "Consider it a stand-by option; I'm sure that you could issue the call to your group at any time," he continues, "and so could Cy-Kill."
"I will agree to this: on one condition," says Zero.
Optimus gazes at Zero.
"Yukimaru has connections to sympathetic hearts within the Guardians," says Zero. "Convince him to move those hearts to allow you to select Bike Hero's finest. And," he continues, "I strongly suggest that you take him on; such an open expression of trust will dissuade any efforts from him to subvert your efforts."
"You have given me much to consider, Zero," says Optimus, looking towards Elita.
"May we take our leave, Zero-san?" asks Elita in Hika-go.
Zero nods. "Go in peace, imouto," he says in Gobou-go.
"Thank you," says Elita, bowing to Zero.
Zero stands, then returns the bow.
Optimus and Elita exit the bridge; Optimus abruptly scoops Elita into his arms, mirth in his optics.
Scene: 16
"I'm still upset with you," says Elita.
"I know," says Optimus. "My only excuse," he continues, "is that he explicitly told me not to tell you."
"And since when do you obey what he tells you," fumes Elita, "or do anything sensible?"
"Since you started being reckless," says Optimus.
"I wasn't going to allow you to kill yourself and destroy our war effort," says Elita. "Saving your aft-as you're the leader of the Autobots-warranted a degree of recklessness."
"Don't we have a chain of command in the event of my demise?" scoffs Optimus.
"A nominal one that's superseded by the module in your chest cavity," says Elita, "and now the Decepticons know about it-though at least we can blame that on Prime Nova."
"A pity," sighs Optimus as he and Elita approach their starskimmer. "I had hoped that Megatron's hate for Nova would be enough to steer him towards peace."
"It couldn't be helped," says Elita. "At the end of the day, you're just this massive block of robotic hope we all need-even the Decepticons, who are just too damned proud to admit it."
"I take it that Magnus' attempt to bring Skywarp to us failed again," says Optimus.
"Of course it did," says Elita. She kisses Optimus' faceplate, leaps out of his arms, then boards the starskimmer.
"Cybertron first, I take it?" asks Optimus, following Elita inside.
A few moments later, the starskimmer takes off as Thruster Rei's docking bay opens; the starskimmer leaves Thruster Rei, heading to Cybertron.
Scene: 17
"Why did you summon me here, Cy-Kill?" demands Optimus, frustration and confusion in his voice. "And why the green hat?"
"Because I'm your grand escort to Neverland, Optimus Prime," grins Cy-Kill, removing the hat and subspacing it as he bows.
Optimus touches his chin. "That only explains our presence in London," he says, "although I'm certain that in the Peter Pan narrative, the Darling children never lived in Buckingham Palace."
"True," says Cy-Kill, "but the Palace was the only place large enough to accomodate our size for this reenactment."
"Are you going to ask if I believe I can fly?" scoffs Optimus.
"You must," says Cy-Kill, "otherwise I can never take you to Neverland, and this conversation will end here."
Optimus stares at Cy-Kill in disbelief.
"No way, no how!" crows Cy-Kill.
"Now you're crossing narratives!" spits Optimus. "Are we going to Neverland or to the Land of Oz?"
"Who is to say?" asks Cy-Kill. "Are we dreamers, Optimus," he continues, "or are we merely in someone's dream-to paraphrase the good Mr. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson?"
"Thus far, you have invoked the literary wisdom of: J. M. Barrie, L. Frank Baum, and Lewis Carroll," says Optimus, "without any logical reason or context."
"Oh?" wonders Cy-Kill, a bemused expression in his optics.
Optimus sighs. "To draw from Barrie, Cy-Kill: I need the pixie dust," he says, exasperated.
Cy-Kill shakes his head, startles a crow, grabs a feather, and presents it to Optimus.
Optimus glares at Cy-Kill as he receives the feather. "Frankly, Cy-Kill, I need you to make sense: as I'm Dumbo to you and all," he says, annoyed.
"The folly of God is wiser than man, you know," says Cy-Kill soberly.
Optimus studies Cy-Kill.
"'Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen'," quotes Cy-Kill. "'For by it the elders obtained a good report'."
I can no longer fault Leader One for questioning his sanity, says Optimus to himself as Cy-Kill continues his Hebrews 11 quotation. Not only that, but I'm beginning to question my own sanity for even considering Zero's advice.
"'But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is,'" says Cy-Kill, continuing his quote, "'and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him'."
"Then increase my faith, Cy-Kill," says Optimus. "Help thou my unbelief."
"Do you believe in justice, Optimus Prime?" asks Cy-Kill.
"Yes," says Optimus.
"Then consider that 'the just shall live by faith'," says Cy-Kill, "and fly with me to Neverland. Or Oz. Or Wonderland, or whatever place of whimsy you will."
Optimus stares at Cy-Kill.
"Just follow me, Optimus," says Cy-Kill. "I swear, when it comes to simple literary allusion, you are an utter imbecile." He flies off.
Optimus narrows his optics, clutching the crow feather in his hand as he activates his flight capacitor; he takes off after Cy-Kill.
Scene: 18
Several hours later, Cy-Kill and Optimus land at the mouth of a cave.
"Wasn't that exhilirating!?" asks Cy-Kill.
"It was," says Optimus, looking around at the area. "Of course, I remember this place because of Silverbolt's report of the Aerialbots altercation with the Stunticons here," he continues.
"Is that so...?" muses Cy-Kill.
Optimus nods. "Motormaster attempted to grab Slingshot to prevent a gestalt merge within the cave, and he'd triggered a cave-in."
"I see..." drawls Cy-Kill in Gobou-go. "We'll need to enter the cave," he continues in Univers.
"You won't be able to fly once you're inside," warns Optimus.
"Then we'll simply have to master travelling off the beaten path," says Cy-Kill; he enters the cave.
Optimus squares his shoulders, then follows Cy-Kill into the cave.
About forty-five minutes later, Cy-Kill and Optimus reach the bottom of the crystal-studded ravine.
"This is where Motormaster and Slingshot fell," says Optimus.
"Yes," says Cy-Kill. "Thus, it's a splendid place to share secrets."
"And what secrets would enemies share with each other?" asks Optimus.
"Come now," says Cy-Kill. "Under different circumstances, those two could have been allies at the least." He pulls out a datapad, then accesses his internal database through the datapad.
Optimus studies Cy-Kill.
"That fellow's motorized mouth is a grand maestro of ceremony," continues Cy-Kill, "while David's skill with his sling made him an excellent shot in killing Goliath."
I have to be very careful, says Optimus to himself, of what I reveal: about Motormaster and Slingshot.
"This is actually rather dangerous for us both," says Cy-Kill. "Soundwave's skill is incredible."
Optimus blinks at Cy-Kill.
"He knows that this place's nature renders it impossible for either side in your conflict to monitor conversations," continues Cy-Kill, "which is why Motormaster was sent here to deliver a message to Slingshot."
"That's true..." says Optimus, staring at Cy-Kill.
"Which is why I must advise you to cease any further efforts to rescue the Stuntron Five," says Cy-Kill tersely. "At this point, they are irretrievable; otherwise, Soundwave would never allow Motormaster this rich advantage."
"Impossible!" counters Optimus. "Ratchet and Wheeljack are the finest medical and engineering minds on Cybertron. If there's a way to undo the Decepticons' reprogramming, those two will find it."
"The Stuntron Five weren't reprogrammed," says Cy-Kill, "any more than the Constructicons were."
Optimus trembles.
"It's obnoxious to have your subordinates mislead you with half-truths," says Cy-Kill, "yet you accept these silly lies unquestioningly."
"You may be right about the Constructicons," says Optimus gravely, "but I know the Stuntron Five. To make them into the unruly band Megatron calls the Stunticons, he had to destroy their minds."
"Functional minds are needed for a functional gestalt, Optimus Prime," says Cy-Kill.
Optimus trembles. "He...he broke them," he says quietly. "Soundwave broke them."
Cy-Kill studies Optimus.
"Yet Ratchet can fix them," Optimus continues. "They don't want to serve Megatron-not like they are now! For a perfectionist like Maestro, his current state has to be a living hell."
"Agreed," says Cy-Kill, calm. "But at present, that fellow doesn't see his path to destroying Megatron through opposing him. None of the Decepticons do."
"What other path is there...?" asks Optimus.
Cy-Kill grins. "Excellent," he says quietly. "Now you're prepared to think along my lines, though this is fairly straightforward. You, even now, have a great deal of respect for Megatron," he continues, "though you detest him and his actions for obvious reasons."
"I can never forget," says Optimus, "that Megatron liberated our people-our world: Cybertron, which he now seeks to destroy."
"Destroy!?" balks Cy-Kill. "Whatever his faults, Megatron has never sought Cybertron's destruction. Even my idiot of a Head Senator groks that much."
Optimus stares at Cy-Kill.
"In Megatron's mind, Cybertron is the center of his universe," continues Cy-Kill, "and he would have it be the center of the universe we all inhabit. His vision is grand and singular; Cybertron is Rome, and these other worlds are its Empire."
"His vision is mad and twisted," counters Optimus. "If we follow your analogy to its most logical conclusion, then Cybertron will fall, with terrible devastation throughout the cosmos in the wake of my world's destruction. Megatron cannot see that."
"This is true; the fellow is very shortsighted," says Cy-Kill. "Other Decepticons, however, know the value-and dark calculus-of the long game. The Roman Empire fell, yet its remnants rooted themselves as seeds in the places where its banner was planted, and its influence is felt to this day on Earth."
"You're thinking of its successors: the United Kingdom, a former empire; and the United States, an empire in all but name," says Optimus.
"Don't let General Newcastle hear that," grins Cy-Kill. "He gets testy."
"If he's 'testy' with you," scoffs Optimus, "it's because you tried to subjugate Washington, D. C. within a month of Megatron's efforts."
"Oh, that," says Cy-Kill. "Frankly, the Renegades needed the money; taking over the US capital sector was a distraction so that Fly Trap could do his job with minimal interference."
"The Guardians caught him," says Optimus.
"And when all that they discovered was that Fly Trap's terrible crime involved picking up garbage throughout the city," quips Cy-Kill, "they had to release him. Tux saw to that."
"Thus, Bike Hero has unfettered access to every bank account in the United States," says Optimus, "and could drain them at any time."
"That was my threat writ large," says Cy-Kill.
"That... You have access to all of Earth's banks, don't you?" wonders Optimus.
Cy-Kill nods. "Remarkably," he says, "the Swiss and Cayman banks recognized my threat for what it really was and acted swiftly. The plutocrats within the United States and the United Kingdom-who have accounts within those banks-will quietly have their governments direct the banks to follow suit: after finding a way to profit from the crisis I've created within their home countries," Cy-Kill continues.
"I expect Murchison won't live very long," says Optimus, grim.
"He will merely suffer the fate of all stupid criminals," scoffs Cy-Kill. "You have no idea how many planetary financial systems I've subverted," he continues. "Earth has done well to fight back against me. Most planets are still completly oblivious to the fact that I have the power to rob them blind."
"You could wreak utter havoc with countless lives," says Optimus.
"Not by stealing fractions of a centile," counters Cy-Kill, "which has stopped with the conditional amnesty."
"Where is Fly Trap?" asks Optimus.
Cy-Kill laughs. "He's detained on Elba," he says, "awaiting an extradition hearing on unrelated charges from Bandai Seven."
"What are the-wait..." says Optimus, staring at Cy-Kill. "There's no such planet. You had Fly Trap imprisoned on phony charges."
"No," says Cy-Kill. "Guardian Intelligence trumped up the charges."
"Your 'looking glass' analogy is becoming rather apt," says Optimus.
"Indeed," says Cy-Kill. "Welcome to Neverland."
Scene: 19
Cy-Kill, crouched low to the ground, finishes his proposal.
"Let me see if I've understood you," says Optimus after a moment. "You want to violate the amnesty and restart Bike Hero?"
"Not so," says Cy-Kill. "I merely stated that it will be necessary-if for no other reason than to balance out Wing Zero; I will need to move before Zero does."
"What makes you think it will be necessary to have those two Renegade factions active," asks Optimus, "when you have the opportunity to achieve their objectives through legal means?"
"If Earth falls, the universe will capitulate to Megatron's rule," says Cy-Kill.
"Earth...is such a small, and fragile world," notes Optimus.
"If an utter imbecile like Flashpoint could see the danger of Earth to Megatron's dominion over the cosmos," continues Cy-Kill, "then surely you can. We're fortunate that he opted to target a weak-minded jock in a city of very strong-willed people...who helped the young Mr. Thompson gird his loins. Otherwise, Flashpoint's scheme would have worked."
"It's true that the people of Earth are brave, and resourceful," says Optimus, "with the determination to survive."
"And that attitude of theirs is rather infectious throughout the universe," grins Cy-Kill. "I've had the pleasure of opposing the humans running UNECOM, and I've worked with Braxis on a regular basis. The few extant dictators on this world-in their hearts-know that their reign over their populations is on a painfully-brief time limit."
Optimus sighs. "If the great powers of this world chose to band together against these malefactors," he says, "then I could reconsider my stance against sharing Cybertronian technology with Earth."
Cy-Kill touches his chin.
"I don't want Earth to fall to Megatron," continues Optimus, "not only for the reasons you've cited, but also because I care for its people. That same concern is the reason I won't blindly trust the people of Earth with our technology."
"Earth will fall," says Cy-Kill, "if that formal alliance between Gobotron and the Cybertron Empire succeeds."
Optimus stares at Cy-Kill.
"Fitor will not allow that to happen. He will break the amnesty, and you'll probably be an accessory," says Cy-Kill.
"I don't see that happening," counters Optimus. "Fitor has an unbreakable code of honor."
"I know Daizaburo all too well," says Cy-Kill. "His honor code is so unbreakable because of its flexibility; that which bends can never break."
"Since you're obviously in collusion with Guardian Intelligence," says Optimus, "then convince them to be flexible, and let me make use of your best."
Cy-Kill sighs. "Next to having Bike Hero and Wing Zero acting openly as irregular legionnaires-which was Fitor's doomed proposal," he says, "your solution is the most elegant one...that breaks the Beta Cygnus II Pact."
"Our conversation is breaking the pact!" balks Optimus. "Fundamentally, you are a Guardian-you can't escape that. You must protect Gobotron."
"And the only way that I can do so effectively," says Cy-Kill, rising to his feet, "is if I resume my role as the leader of the Revolutionary New Guardian Team: one that has total autonomy from my beloved mamoributai, which can't act as it should."
"What of Leader One?" asks Optimus.
"He and his circle alone will not be able to oppose the enemy within the Guardian ranks," says Cy-Kill soberly, "a monstrous enemy that our shortsighted and bigoted society has created because of their fear."
"Fear of what?" wonders Optimus.
"Fear of everything," says Cy-Kill. "Fear of losing their identity, fear of losing their peaceful lives, and the all-too logical fear," Cy-Kill continues, "that the Guardians-as they are now-will turn on them."
"'The dog bites back', as it were," muses Optimus. "That was a concern that Hot Spot had proposed almost two cycles ago," he continues, wincing, "when Alpha Bravo died."
"Yes," says Cy-Kill. "As a pack of societal misfits," he grins, "Bike Hero is the most positive response our society could have to the very real danger of the Guardians: Leader One and his cohorts notwithstanding."
"Leader One would never allow that to happen," says Optimus, "nor would his team. They are dedicated to the protection of Gobotron."
"I know this," says Cy-Kill tersely. "I know it, and my people-at their core-are not stupid; they're just frightened: and have every reason to be."
"'Those without power: seek us'," says Optimus soberly. "This time, you're drawing from Gobotron's own children's literature: the writings of Rerubi Ranperu."
Cy-Kill studies Optimus.
"I never understood that book's appeal," says Optimus, "and it has a wretched ending for its protagonist."
"Why is it wretched?" wonders Cy-Kill.
"He dies," says Optimus dourly. "He's killed by his own friend."
"If you've accomplished all of your objectives," asks Cy-Kill, "then why does death matter?"
Optimus blinks at Cy-Kill.
"I can't very well kill," Cy-Kill continues, "unless I'm prepared to be killed, now can I?"
"Are you basing your entire philosophy on childhood sentiment?" balks Optimus.
"I'm basing it on the words of my grandfather," says Cy-Kill, "who-like the good Mr. Dodgson-wrote his narrative under a pseudonym. Until Yukimaru Isshin died," he continues, "only Leader One and I knew 'Rerubi Ranperu's' true identity: as he had written the tale based on a running bedtime story he made up for us as children...though in fairness, Taiko was unsurprised at the reveal; quite a bit of it sounded like my grandfather's admonitions to the Academy. And that's the danger."
"Because Taiko-along with Tonka-had turned against the Guardians," says Optimus, "when she tried to assassinate Leader One."
"Optimus," says Cy-Kill curtly. "You understand the US government fairly well, correct?"
Optimus nods.
"Tell me this: does a ranking Master Sergeant in the United States Marine Corps turn against the Marine Corps," Cy-Kill asks, "if that Marine were to torture and rape the President as part of an effort to kill him?"
"What!?" balks Optimus, aghast.
"Answer the question; is it an act of treason against the military?" continues Cy-Kill.
"It's an act of treason against the United States itself," says Optimus, "as it's a blatant attack on the Marine's own head of state."
"Precisely. Not even the most decorated Marine-from a family of such Marines-could avoid capital punishment," says Cy-Kill. "Yet how do you protect the family's reputation: keep it separate from that individual's actions?"
"You don't," says Optimus. "You present the truth to the people, and trust that the people understand that the sins of that Marine don't rest on the Marine Corps as a whole, or on that Marine's family. The same would apply," continues Optimus, "to Shichigorou Taiko and Shichigorou Kaoru, with regard to their clan and the Guardians."
"Such trust is difficult to maintain between the US armed forces and its civilians," scoffs Cy-Kill, "and that miserably blatant breach of public trust has mercifully never occurred in US history. We on Gobotron are not so lucky."
"Do the people know that two Guardians tried to assassinate Leader One?" asks Optimus.
"No," says Cy-Kill.
"And the Guardians wonder why there's a lack of trust in the Guardians from Gobotron's civilian populace," says Optimus, "that Leader One has to provide 'transparency' from his outfit's intelligence arm...to the point that the intelligence arm has to lie to him to do its job effectively."
"In fairness, Leader One expects to be lied to by the Intelligence Director," grins Cy-Kill.
"Which is why it's the height of hypocrisy for the Director to complain about regular Guardians being deceived by the public face of Guardian Intelligence...who outranks him," chuckles Optimus, recalling the inquiry hearing about the GB-01 hardware hack event.
"The Director's main objection was that he himself was not informed of the truth," says Cy-Kill.
Optimus sighs. "Please," he pleads. "At least try to reason with your contacts within Guardian Intelligence to let me have Fitor, Snoop, Crasher, and her boys-and to release Fly Trap. I suspect that the Director would be your best option for that. I'll appeal to the regular side."
"How will you ensure that the two branches don't work at cross-purposes?" asks Cy-Kill.
"By reaching out to the one Guardian that the Director's likely to listen to: the Intelligence Liaison," says Optimus. "He was the first to try to get me to sign you on." With that, Optimus begins his climb out of the ravine.
"I'll keep that in mind," says Cy-Kill; he follows Optimus in his climb.
Scene: 20
"You don't feel jealous?" asks Spike, studying Skydive's altimeter as he adjusts the control stick.
"No. Why do you?" asks Skydive.
Spike sighs. "It's one thing if she had feelings for you, Chip, or even Dad-if she has to go after an older man," he says. "But Creed's a headcase! He's like an even-worse version of Cliffjumper!"
"Don't insult Creed like that!" says Skydive. "He's not that far gone," he continues, "mostly because the human governments are actively working to fix his mindset."
"The Decepticons are a hell of an incentive!" says Spike, abruptly banking right to dodge a black Class Four.
"Wonderful; Cirrus is trying to murder Slingshot again," says Skydive. "I'll take back control, Spike."
"Hey," says Spike, noting a white Class Five, "why are you targeting Slingshot?"
Skydive fires on the Class Five. "That's not Slingshot," he says, cool. "That guy just has a similar chroma key."
"Wingblade!" spits the Class Four, Cirrus, following the plummeting Class Five.
"Her partner," says Skydive, firing on Cirrus. "The girl's been out of her element since she lost her squad," he adds, "and we can't let either of them harm Thompson or Parker."
"Where is Slingshot?" wonders Spike. "He'd usually be right behind you, to follow up your attacks-and steal your tags," he adds wryly.
"He's gotten better about that, actually," says Skydive. "His role is ground support."
Scene: 21
"This Sling guy is annoying me," fumes Thompson. "Hey!" he shouts at the white Class Five, who frowns in response. "What's the deal!?"
When it rains, it pours, says Peter to himself, leaning against the wall.
"You're a bit too popular in the Decepticon ranks, Eugene Thompson of Earth," sneers the Class Five: Sling. "I think I'll hold you and your buddy Parker hostage for my purposes," he continues, "to see what makes you fraggers tick."
Peter sighs. "Listen, we'd be really boring specimens of Homo sapiens for you to vivisect," he says. "You want superheroes: like Captain America or the Incredible Hulk. Maybe one of the X-Men."
"Maybe," drawls Sling, "but I at least need a baseline human for comparison."
"As a control," adds Thompson; he gazes at Sling's left shoulder. "I though you knew how science experiments work, Parker."
"We don't want to be this guy's science experiments, Flash!" counters Peter.
"Oh, I don't really do science scrap," says Sling, "but I know a lot of kludgeheads who'd love to see you analyzed. There's even a theory about your reproductive organs being functionally the same as the female of your species."
"I have a cock!" balks Thompson.
"That theory is correct," says Peter, "but only in utero. Our biological sex is decided within our forty-week gestation period," he continues, "based on whether we received an 'X' or 'Y' chromosome from our fathers' sperm cells."
Thompson stares at Peter. "Anyway...Parker and I obviously both got 'Y-chromosomes' from our dads."
"True," grins Sling, "but it may be possible to alter your genetic code so that one of you is a female: transforming your glans penis-your 'cock'," he drawls, "into a glans clitoris."
"T-that isn't possible...!" Thompson sputters. "Is it, Parker...?" he whispers to Peter, nervous.
"We don't have the tech for that," says Peter, "nor do most humans want it."
"There are humans that do?" wonders Sling.
"A minority within a minority," says Peter.
"You mean qu-I mean...humans with same-sex attraction," says Thompson. "The super-minority Parker's talking about is called a transgender," he adds, confused. At least that's how I remember my crazy drag queen roommate explaining his shit in college, he muses to himself, glaring at Sling.
"I'd think you'd be the perfect specimen to transform into a female, Thompson," says Sling, grinning. "What would be the feminine of 'Eugene', Peter Parker?" he asks.
"You have a literal computer brain!" pouts Peter. "Don't you have a search function?"
"Your sector's online connectivity is extremely primitive," says Sling.
Several Decepticons approach Sling.
This is going to be interesting, muses Peter.
Thompson sighs.
"Sling," asks a Decepticon, "We all brought you our best high grade." The Decepticon sets down his set of energon cubes.
The other eight Decepticons follow suit.
"Now hand us the humans," says the first Decepticon.
Sling studies the piles of energon, then smirks at the Decepticons. "I've changed my mind, guy," he says.
"What!?" balks the Decepticon. "We had a deal!"
"Decided to alter the deal," says Sling; he guns down the nine Decepticons with his neutron rifle.
"Are you some kind of serial killer!?" wonders Peter, horrified.
"It's war," says Sling, "and I'm good at killing, fleshbag. I'll stop when the Decepticons show a bit of self-awareness. Ain't that right, Thompson?" he asks Thompson.
"Yeah, Pete; sit down," says Thompson, tired as he slumps down against the wall of the hangar. "We'll be here a while."
Scene: 22
Cirrus tests her wings, then assesses Wingblade for repairs. "Skydive wasn't fooled," she says. "Did you at least take out Slingshot?"
"I got intercepted by a Specialist, Mark-eighteen," says Wingblade. "Designated 'Sling'."
"What's his make?" asks Cirrus.
"He's a Class Five," says Wingblade, taking out a datapad; he scrolls through it. "Sling's listed on the battle roster."
"Which squad is he assigned to?" Cirrus continues.
Wingblade continues to look through the datapad. "No record of his squad," he says, "but being that he's a Class Five, he's probably a hard guy to assign to a squad. Listed as Tier One back at the Academy," he continues, "so he's a skilled soldier."
"Noteworthy that he took out a whole team of Autobots by himself while at the Academy," says Cirrus. "Speaking of teams and squads," she continues, "where's your unit? And where's my squad?"
"My squad's a bunch of Class One kludgeheads who went after Sling: because he spotted Thompson and Parker," says Wingblade.
Cirrus winces. "They were Flashpoint's twin-trine mates back at the Academy," she says, scowling, "so they want revenge on them too."
"What about your squad?" asks Wingblade.
"Technus, Skulker, Youngblood, and Spectra all wanted to study the humans: a bit of vivisection," says Cirrus, a cruel smile on her lips. "I hope they're making Sling a good..." Cirrus stops speaking, studying Wingblade.
Wingblade trembles. "Your wingmates and mine," he says after a moment. "They're all KIA."
"What!?" spits Cirrus, snatching the datapad from Wingblade. She scrolls through the battle roster listing, optics wide in disbelief.
"We need to find Sling!" says Wingblade, pulling his phase halberd from subspace. "We should be able to find out who killed our wingmates!"
Cirrus scowls. "No," she says. "Two possibilities here: either Slingshot-who, like you and Sling, is a Class Five-took your idea and chose to impersonate Sling to protect the flesh creatures Thompson and Parker, or..."
"Or Sling turned traitor and killed our guys!" finishes Wingblade.
"Trying to find Sling will get us both fragged," says Cirrus, "and I intend to live through this slag-pile of a war."
"We need to report this," says Wingblade, opening his commlink.
"This is no way to avenge Flashpoint," says Cirrus, trembling.
"Subcommander Soundwave...?" wonders Wingblade.
"Affirmative," states Soundwave through the commlink. "Communication intercepted."
"W-with all due respect, Subcommander," says Cirrus, struggling to maintain professional decorum, "we're supposed to report to Subcommander Skywarp."
"Skywarp: off-world," says Soundwave. "Engaged in diplomatic mission."
"Where?" asks Wingblade. "If...I may ask, subcommander," he adds.
"Shouri-sei," says Soundwave.
"Then next on our direct chain of command is Starscream," says Cirrus.
"Information transmitted to Starscream," says Soundwave. "Your direct contact: unnecessary. Direct transmissions," he continues "redirected to ReCON."
"Why!?" balks Wingblade.
"Needed for high-level operation," says Soundwave. "Further inquiry: inadvisable. Ending transmission."
"Don't bother," says Cirrus dourly. "Soundwave's going to block or intercept our attempts to hail any of the Seekers of Vilnacron."
"So we're supposed to trust Soundwave!?" fumes Wingblade.
Cirrus glowers. "We don't have a choice-here," she glowers. "Let's just go to the spacebridge, and get back to Cybertron."
"We're supposed to be stationed here!" counters Wingblade. "How do we explain our return to Subcommander Shockwave?"
"If he asks," says Cirrus, "we tell him the truth and let him handle it from there."
Scene: 23
Jameson hits the alarm clock, annoyed as he yawns. He blearily picks off a sticky note from his hand, reading it. "'Write the damn editorial, John'," he mutters. "Who the hell wrote this...?"
Crumpling the note, he briefly kisses his wife Marla on the forehead, then reaches over her to move her glasses closer to her on her nightstand...pulling another sticky note off the glasses.
Who is doing this...? wonders Jameson, squinting at this second sticky note. "Same message: both of them in my handwriting..." he muses aloud as he crumples the note.
Taking off his pajamas, Jameson enters the bathroom, flipping on the light switch; he rolls his eyes at the sticky note. "Alright, fine," he grumbles. "I'm clearly reminding myself to write a damned editorial. I'm the most opinionated newspaper publisher in America, and I've got a lot of opinions on a lot of shit. Was I writing about Spider-Man...?" he asks aloud to himself as he turns on the water for the shower...pulling away another sticky note.
Oh, fuck me... he says inwardly. "'No logical Spider-Man angle, and no point to trying to work him in as a potential Decepticon ally'" he reads from his latest sticky note. "The wall-crawler was on Cybertron! The smug little bastard followed me to Cybertron!"
Jameson sighs, entering the shower. After finishing his shower, he towels off, then grabs his toothpaste and electric toothbrush-removing a sticky note.
What now, me!? he spits silently; he reads the sticky note: a message to look on the back of the mouthwash bottle for bullet points. "This must be some Pulitzer-worthy material I'm putting in my editorial," he scoffs as he squeezes toothpaste onto his toothbrush head.
Scene: 24
Joseph "Robbie" Robertson grins as a disgruntled Jameson enters his office; Robertson hands Jameson a cup of coffee.
"How many thermoses, and how strong is the coffee?" asks Jameson, setting a stack of typewritten notes on the desk.
Robertson points to the coffee station near the window. "I had Glory set that up last night," he says. "Betty ordered donuts," Robertson continues, handing him a set of paperwork, "and here's Ben's interview of Creed-to get Creed's opinion on the Cybertron issue."
Jameson skims 'Ben's' article. "Not bad, Urich: did some serious reporting," he mutters. "Creed had something to say other than 'mutants are potential Decepticon collaborators'."
Robertson nods. "Honestly," he says, "I think Creed wants his anti-mutant activism to take a back seat."
"I agree, Robbie," says Jameson, pouring himself a second cup of coffee. "His usual shit-talking about mutants is just boilerplate for his real worries: something to keep his followers nodding their heads."
"If Ben's report is accurate," says Robertson, "Creed's worried about his ideological fellow-travellers being compromised by the Decepticons-which would undermine his goals."
"There are more hate groups than there are mutants on Earth," says Jameson, "so it'd be easier for any alien invaders to build an army within our population using the likes of the Friends than, say, the Brotherhood."
"Especially an enemy army of sapient machines," says Robertson.
"We'd have an easier time of it," says Jameson, sitting down at his desk and setting up his typewriter, "if our allied army of sapient machines would just trust us."
"Optimus Prime is firm on his stance: no Cybertronian tech-beyond what we already got from Swindle," says Robertson, giving Jameson a knowing look.
"Yep," grins Jameson. "Marla's worse than me when it comes to her sphere of expertise: I can assure you."
"Oscorp, ESU...I hope that's it," says Robertson, worry in his eyes. "Frankly, we don't need that crap in Hell's Kitchen-or anywhere else in the City."
"Mr. Fisk grew up there," says Jameson, "and he stays true to his roots: all he would tell me. My guess is that he knows ways to apply pressure to the shady elements there to keep the Cybertron tech off the streets," he adds.
"The Protectobots are a huge help," says Robertson, "along with the Aerialbots and the Dinobots."
Jameson nods. "The Thompson kid's insane," he says. "All those dead Decepticons by one Autobot."
"Slingshot has the best targeting computer out of the five Aerialbots," says Robertson, "and what I got out of Peter was that angry Decepticons just kept coming for him and Thompson-only for Slingshot to take them out."
"Something doesn't add up," says Jameson. "Parker's omitting some info..."
"That might be either at Slingshot's request," says Robertson, "or Parker's holding out for a writer's byline."
"So I can pay him more!?" snorts Jameson. "He needs to do some real work!"
"Maybe I should ask him to edit your War and Peace manuscript into an actual editorial, Jonah," says Robertson, giving Jameson a wry grin.
"You don't know how much hell I gave myself this morning!" counters Jameson with a pout. "Sticky notes everywhere! I don't push my people here at the Bugle this hard!"
"That's because you are your 'sticky notes'," says Robertson, taking out a red pen-and pulling off a sticky note. "Case in point," he continuss, waving the sticky note briefly before handing it to Jameson.
"'Edit the manuscript as though you were me, Robbie,'" reads Jameson. "I was up since four thirty this morning," he says to Robertson.
"You're the publisher; I'm the editor-in-chief," says Robertson. He smiles. "I need your bullet points," Robertson adds, "because when you have a hardcover-thick stack of notes, you're going off on a thousand wild tangents."
"The bullet points are my sad attempt at a roadmap," says Jameson. "Why'd I have to be a writer...?"
Robertson chuckles. "To report the truth and give your honest opinion," he says.
Jameson stands, opens two windows, then lights a cigar. "Then let's get to work," he says.
Scene: 25
"I will speak directly with Megatron regarding this concern," says Shockwave, "according to Megatron's order. Your obfuscations will not be tolerated."
"What are you talking about, Shockwave?" says Soundwave dismissively, in Megatron's voice.
"I am all-too aware of your tactics, Soundwave," says Shockwave, "as they were deployed by your predecessors: Darkclaw, and Devil Box before him. This was their function," Shockwave continues, "as it is yours."
"Logic: constraining," says Soundwave, reverting to his normal voice.
"I cannot be swayed by illogic, Soundwave," says Shockwave. "Megatron is the leader of the Decepticons, in line with his initial function and corresponding program parameters."
"Shockwave," says Soundwave. "Reasoning: faulty."
"You correctly detect that my reasoning is driven from an emotion: loyalty," says Shockwave, "which remains regardless of Megatron's failure or success. My emotion, however, is supported by logic. Simply put, I am in Megatron's debt, as he secured my freedom," he continues, "thus, I am obligated to repay that debt."
Soundwave gazes at Shockwave through the viewscreen.
"Now," continues Shockwave, "I will speak directly with Megatron regarding this concern: according to Megatron's order."
Soundwave squares his shoulders. "Megatron commands," he states, complying with Shockwave's order.
Scene: 26
One week.
One week saved Earth. One week saved humankind from total subjugation.
On September 8, 1984, the Guardians: the paramilitary force of planet Gobotron, crash-landed near UNECOM headquarters: United Nations Earth Command's primary facility outside Phoenix, Arizona...in pursuit of Gobotron's enemy: a group of insurrectionists identified to us as the Renegades.
On September 17, 1984, Mount St. Hilary erupted. As the dormant volcano exploded, the sleeping giants within their spaceship awoke: to renew their ancient war after four million years.
One week. Some would pedantically note "nine days"-as though that's a great difference. The real issue is that had the Guardians not been here: one week before the Decepticons woke up, our lives on Earth as we knew it would be over.
Our lives here on our blue marble, because of these two alien incursions in 1984-on top of the other alien visitors here, are already irrevocably-altered. We still have our freedom, our chance to get a grip on everything...and we owe that to the Guardians: with their flawed, imperfect non-aggression pact, and the Autobots.
Now, it's time for this writer to drop any pretense of editorial professionalism: to make this personal.
I'm scared.
I, John Jonah Jameson, Junior...am scared.
I haven't said that-openly or even in private-since I was eight years old. My reason: because a man I was born to trust with my life, the man who gave me my name...mocked me for writing "I'm scared" in my diary, then beat me for being "weak". The man was a real hero: fought in the trenches of two world wars, and saw horrors never meant to be seen; but he beat his only son...for daring to admit-to himself-the truth.
What drives me in my work at the Bugle: in journalism...stemmed from that day. I want a world where we can say "I don't know"-which, given our species name, may as well be another way to say: "I'm scared". The powerful, those in authority, the unaccountable who hide behind masks, and all of our alien visitors: I've made it my personal mission in life to speak truth to your power, by reporting the news and giving my honest opinion.
So, I'll call it as I see it for each of the major factions of living, sapient machine people.
To the Guardians: I urge you to reconsider the Beta Cygnus II Pact in light of the facts on the ground here on Earth. Our planet isn't a single unified culture, nor does it have a centralized global government-and it's not likely to have one in the foreseeable future. Nonetheless, every part of Earth is threatened by the Decepticons-or, as they call themselves: the "Cybertron Empire".
I know, through my contact with you and your people over the past five years-especially with Hiroshi Mifune, publisher of Burning: the Seventh District Times-that the people of Gobotron consider us "Earthians" to be kindred spirits. Thus, if you'll give my words a fair and honest reading, you'll understand why I must insist that you back the Autobots.
To the Autobots: I respect Optimus Prime for his position against arming us with Cybertronian weapons-as it's a real possibility that we'd use those weapons on ourselves. Nonetheless, I believe that you're wrong to infantilize us this way.
The people of Earth hate being helpless. The idea of having to sit back while the Decepticons unseat Abe Lincoln's statue from his Memorial so that Megatron could get a throne, frankly, pissed me off.
The Decepticons declared war on us-on every sovereign nation and remote tribal village on Earth.
Let us have the tools we need to fight them, and we will fight them-drive them off our planet first. Then, after you Autobots are safe at home on Cybertron: rebuilding your own war-torn world, if we're stupid enough to blow ourselves to kingdom come so that the plot of Planet of the Apes can commence, then we got what was coming to us-so there's no need to blame yourselves.
To the Renegades: I hopefully won't have to call any of you that anymore. I hope that you'll all be lawful citizens of Gobotron: using your hard-earned freedom to advocate for your reforms within your planet's laws. No government or society is perfect, after all; your people would be grateful for your improvements, and you would reap the rewards of a better Gobotron-for yourself, and your children: who would be able to grow up normally, and not become components to a giant combining robot.
To the Decepticons: As a citizen of the United States of America, a country formed through violent revolution, I can understand that you see yourselves in the same light as my "sector's" Founding Fathers, or Nelson Mandela and the ANC of South Africa.
However, I will not acknowledge your "official" faction title except as the rogue, unlawful state that it is: as you overthrew your lawful government, executed its head of state, and destroyed most of your own homeworld's infrastructure-expecting to conquer other planets to make up for it.
No. At your best, you're Cybertron's version of the Confederacy: with all of the baggage that comes with it. If Optimus had surrendered, it would've consigned the peoples of entire galaxies to slavery and genocide. Peace at any price is unacceptable; there can never be peace without justice.
In your efforts to avenge the injustice done to your "make", you haven't overthrown your homeworld's tyranny. You became the tyranny, spread it throughout the universe, and want to bring that to Earth.
It stops here.
I'm confident that-in spite of our flaws, in spite of our fears, in spite of our weakness and technological inadequacy-we will fight you. It's sad to say that Earth's entire history of war: the very history that your enemy Optimus decries, has served as excellent practice for dealing with the likes of your leader Megatron.
Back in 1985, you all had a real shot. With a bit of subterfuge and political manipulation of a self-serving tool, you had purchased an opportunity to win yourself a committed ally. Yet you squandered it: all because of your prejudice towards organic life-based on your past with other organics.
The Decepticon sympathizers in Chicago, Illinois and Detroit, Michigan: INGALAPOL officers Barricade and Blackout dealt with us honestly; were it not for Megatron's naked contempt for us, we would've gladly become allies with your faction.
And that-given our problems with organic aliens-would've been a mistake, in retrospect.
So, a big "thank you" to Megatron! Your bigotry towards us has actually spared us from having to deal with your organic enemies trying to invade and destroy our world just to get at you. Because of you, we have no choice but to provide aid and comfort to the Autobots: the ones you call "terrorist subversives".
That should conclude my open message to our mechanical visitors.
Now, I have a parting message to my own people-all over our planet Earth. It's obvious that we need to set our differences on a shelf, and unite against this: the greatest challenge that the human race has ever faced.
Our skin colors don't-and have never-mattered. Our gods were never meant to serve as masks to hide our cruelty towards ourselves, so it's time we quit abusing them: to honor the true spirit of our faiths-if we don't want our gods to turn their backs on us.
And as to the 'mutant issue'-this is especially for Graydon Creed of the Friends of Humanity, as I suspect he's the only one with anti-mutant beliefs capable of acting on my words in good faith; we can't continue to pretend that mutants aren't endowed with the same inalienable rights as every other human being. We can't honestly say that mutants are-owing to a recessive genetic trait-anything other than humans themselves.
A number of these mutants are powerful: controlling the weather, able to cause earthquakes, manipulate our planet's magnetic field, or even read our very thoughts. This is frightening, and I can understand wanting something done. However, anything that we do must be governed with wisdom and reason, not ruled or controlled by our fear-whipped up by petty, self-serving demagoguery.
Through years of research and study, we now know that the X-gene is inside all human beings. It can be activated naturally during puberty in a child, or activated by a multitude of external factors: such as gamma radiation exposure.
Thus we must reject blind hate: since-if Mr. Creed and his fellow travellers had their way-we would otherwise devote all of our technological and natural resources to hunting down pubescent children like the late Trevor Chase. We must pursue knowledge and understanding to meet our greatest challenge head-on, and prevail.
We managed to survive, and be free peoples, because of one week.
Let's make it count.
Scene: 27
"I just hope she doesn't start internalizing Creed's...ideas," hisses Spike.
"What: that there are mutants with dangerous powers that need to be kept in check?" asks Chip, cross. "Spike, be rational."
"He's a bigot!" spits Spike.
"We all are," says Chip. "It's a side-effect of our biological sorting algorithm to protect ourselves from threats: other predators, weather events, other humans who threaten our lives. Mutants like Magneto-who's also a bigot, Sabretooth: who Creed really hates-*"
"Because they share a last name," scoffs Spike.
"...and other criminals," continues Chip, "are the big concern for everyone. He's just the power-hungry demagogue exploiting people's fears."
Spike scowls.
"You're the type of person who just hurls the word 'Nazi' at guys like Creed, using it like a catch-all word for 'supervillain'," says Chip, "as though he'll suddenly shrivel into nothing like the Wicked Witch of the West after Dorothy dumped water on her."
"He is a bullying, villainous coward: no better than Megatron," says Spike.
"Megatron had friends: including people just as respected and decent as your dad," says Chip, quiet, "and just as smart and not easily-swayed as Carly. People who think for themselves," he continues, "who won't reduce a whole person to a single label."
Spike stares at Chip.
"Megatron's army is too big to chalk up to mind control devices and deception," says Chip. "And likewise, the Friends of Humanity would've been formed by some other mutant-hater if Creed had his head screwed on straight. Hell," he continues, "there's a mutant-hating religious nutcase out there: Reverend William Stryker of the Church of Human Potential."
"The televangelist?" asks Spike, laughing. "All he's doing is milking stupid, hyper-religious mutant-haters out of their money."
"Stryker's 'church's' membership numbers in the millions, and it's international. Creed only has about thirty thousand 'Friends', and most of them are in New York City: where a lot of the crazy battles with costumed jerks like the Green Goblin happen."
"Look: I don't want to dismiss either of them," says Spike, "and I'm going to call out their bigotry."
"Bigotry is a fire," says Chip. "Fire needs three things to happen: heat, fuel, and air."
"What about combustion?" asks Spike.
"That's after the fire's started," says Chip. "At that point, we still have to eliminate one part of the fire triangle to put the fire out."
"How do we put Creed's stupid fire out, then?" sneers Spike.
"Find out why he hates mutants: the fuel," says Chip. "Or find out which extinguishing agent can stop the chain reaction safely-especially if Creed's crap is a Class D fire-so you can't just dump water on him: because he'll hold on that much tighter to his prejudice."
"He could die," says Spike.
"Turning the people who care about Graydon Creed the man against mutants: including your dad," says Chip.
"Only if Creed's murdered," muses Spike, his brow furrowed in thought. "If Stryker's actually serious about his anti-mutant bullshit, he might try to use Creed as a martyr for their shared fucked-up cause."
Chip grins. "Creed's a politician; he can be bought off, and talked out of his bigotry once we solve his real problem. Stryker's on a damned mission from God."
"Mission from hell, you mean," says Spike, squeezing Chip's shoulder. "God's the one above all; if mutants are here, there's a purpose."
Chip sighs.
"For what it's worth, I think that any god would much rather we act as though he doesn't exist," continues Spike, "and do what's right for its own sake. A deity worthy of worship doesn't rule through fear."
"My legs are bad," quips Chip, "so I can't kneel anyway."
"I just hope everyone pushing Carly into that jackass Creed's arms will respect Carly's wishes in all of this," says Spike.
"I think she sees Creed as romance XP, despite his age," says Chip. "She's never dated, you know."
"We're both right here!" balks Spike.
"I have the brains, you have the brawn," says Chip. "Creed, in spite of his crap, has both along with relatable life experience."
"'Better than Skydive or Bumblebee' isn't a high bar to clear," says Spike, "and I don't believe Creed has cleared that bar."
"The government engineers behind 'Operation Gilgamesh' don't care," says Chip. "It's all NATSEC."
"Only in the minds of pinheads like Senator Kelly," groans Spike. "I refuse to think Senator MacKeane, General Abernathy, Professor Xavier, Dad, or even Mr. Marko could be this stupid."
"Creed would've come up with something better to talk himself out of hating mutants," says Chip, laughing.
Spike laughs.
Scene: 28
"Why call me out?" snorts Graydon, reading the paper. "I should never have spoken with Urich..."
"Do you want people to think that you might be colluding with Megatron to get rid of mutants?" asks Carly, amused; she spreads butter and orange marmalade on a slice of toast.
Annoyed, Graydon bites into Carly's toast; he grins.
Carly rolls her eyes as she hands Graydon the bitten toast. "No plans in that direction," she says.
"Correct," says Graydon after he licks his lips. "Are you trying to impersonate Sam's failed logic?"
"Spike's logic isn't any more failed than yours," says Carly.
"Oh," says Graydon, "that mutants could be sweet-talked by Megatron into betraying Earth. That's apparently a wilder cognitive leap in your mind than my speculation that something's wrong with Will Stryker and Cam Hodge," he scoffs, "since those two can't see the giant robots as a greater threat than mutants."
"The Friends of Humanity is the smallest group," says Carly, "but that's still over thirty thousand of you to the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants' seven."
"When one controls our planet's magnetic field, one can cause earthquakes, and one can manipulate fire," counters Graydon, shaking his head as he sets his paper in front of Carly, "I'd be right to consider their small number irrelevant-though I'm not sure Blob's really a mutant."
"Add in the millions of Church of Human Potential members," says Carly, "and the people in the Right. Then think like a general who wants to subvert an enemy population without the enemy knowing it until it's too late."
Graydon sighs. "Yes," he says, "my group and the others would be the better picks. The Brotherhood are already enemies of mankind-including other mutants: and I'll concede that meaningless point to Jameson because on a strictly biological level," he continues, "I have no choice."
"What makes you think that Stryker was compromised somehow?" asks Carly.
Graydon pulls out a video tape; he inserts the tape into a VCR. "This speech was on November 7, 1983-an attack on the US Senate because of our involvement in Grenada," he says, playing the tape.
"O-of course," Stryker says on the tape, looking around left and right, "terrorism has no place in the United States: from mutants, religious extremists, or communists who have an axe to grind with our government..."
Carly nods.
Graydon stops and ejects the tape, then inserts another tape. "This one's damnable, and you'll see why," he grins, pressing PLAY to start the tape.
Carly stares at the TV, her eyes wide; she grabs the remote and pauses the VCR. "He had a speech in front of the Lincoln Memorial...on that date!?" she wonders.
"Keep playing," says Graydon, nodding.
Carly lets the video resume.
"We cannot allow any distractions from the mutant question," says Stryker on the tape. "Our salvation from mutants' demonic plague can only come with their destruction. May God strengthen our hand and our resolve as we do what must be done to save humanity from the mutant scourge..."
"Even as the Decepticons are removing Lincoln from the Memorial," says Carly, shaking her head in disbelief, "he's fixated on 'the mutant scourge'."
"Considering that Stryker's an Army vet, this is a problem," says Graydon. "Of course, there was follow-up questioning."
Carly raises a hand. "Every question was redirected or derailed into a diatribe about mutants," she says.
Graydon nods. "I won't insult Megatron-as that would also be an insult to the Autobots and other Cybertronians," he says. "If Stryker's been replaced with a robot somehow," Graydon continues, "it's operating autonomously, without any oversight from Megatron."
Carly touches her chin. "Flesh on the outside, robot on the inside: like the Terminator," she muses.
"Again: in order to avoid insulting your friends-who are Earth's allies," says Graydon, "I refuse to think that Megatron is as stupid as SKYNET."
"You want Dr. Trask to build an AI that Megatron could subvert," quips Carly, "presuming that it's programmed to be loyal enough not to become SKYNET itself."
"There are external hardware issues to resolve," says Graydon, "which is one of the reasons..." He frowns.
"What's really the matter, Graydon?" asks Carly.
"A part of me thinks that certain elements want our groups compromised by the Decepticons," Graydon continues. "A pretext to shut us down."
"Then confront the people you think are responsible," says Carly, cool.
Graydon pulls out a business card. "I'll take you up on that," he says as he picks up the phone receiver and dials a number.
Scene: 29
"Mr. Creed," says Xavier, irritated concern in his eyes, "I agree with you that Reverend Stryker's behavior is strange... Please, listen to me...! I gave you this card so that we could help you... Yes: we; I'm working with some of the most brilliant minds on Earth..." Xavier continues speaking with Graydon.
"What kind of insane troll logic is the bastard son of Sabretooth laboring under?" asks Namor, annoyed.
If I'm reading Xavier's lips correctly, signs Black Bolt: his words appearing as text on a SIGNLANG dictation screen, Creed thinks that we are allowing the Decepticons to compromise the Friends of Humanity and other anti-mutant groups-so that we have an excuse to pressure Earth's governments to force their groups to disband.
"Why not use the SIGNLANG's sign-to-speech function?" asks Richards.
I refuse to sound like Stephen Hawking, answers Black Bolt.
Stark shrugs. "That's fair," he says. "The voice synthesizer still needs refinement, Reed."
Strange briefly touches the back of his neck, then strokes his chin.
"When I return to Westchester," says Xavier, "I will work with you to resolve your concerns-regardless of your contempt. Good day, Mr. Creed." He hangs up the phone.
"At least he actually called you," grins Richards. "Jameson's article must be magic."
"While there were no instances of 'please', a 'thank you' was sprinkled in," says Strange. "My mother always told me 'please' and 'thank you' were magic words."
"Mine, too," says Richards.
"No," says Xavier. "We owe this minor concession on Creed's part to Carly. This certainly turned out better than my efforts to help Cain."
"Oh, you'll do just fine with Marko," says Strange. "He's a tactile-type: really hands-on," he continues. "Just let your stepbrother reach out to you in his way."
"Creed will be the more frustrating one," says Namor, "especially since-to deal fairly with the man-you are a difficult one to trust, Xavier."
Xavier narrows his eyes.
"Even with your own students," says Strange, "you do shady, underhanded things for the 'greater good'."
"As do the lot of you, my fellow Illuminati blackguards," says Xavier. "While I acknowledge that I considered what Creed accuses me of doing," he continues, "I ultimately rejected it: as it would backfire on my students."
What impressions did you get from him? asks Black Bolt.
"Anger at the thought that I would betray our country just to protect mutantkind-underlying the usual," says Xavier. "He's debating within himself on whether he should 'bite the bullet'."
"If he does crack, what will you do?" asks Stark.
"I'll help him," says Xavier, determination set on his face.
The other men study Xavier.
"I built my school for people like him," continues Xavier. "Also," he adds, smiling, "Kurt should get to know his brother."
"Keep that fraternal bullshit contained in the Danger Room," says Stark.
Scene: 30
"Would you put me down!?" demands Peter, glaring at Skywarp.
"I want to have a chat with your paper's pit boss," says Skywarp.
"That's wonderful," grins Peter, "but I'm freelance. I don't work for the Bugle."
"Don't make me drop you," seethes Skywarp.
"Look: you're not the first guy to be offended by Flat-top," snorts Peter. "Hell: there are days I'm offended by the guy when I agree with him."
"Would today be one of those days?" asks Skywarp, presenting a copy of the Daily Bugle.
Peter sighs. "Nope," he says. "He's right on target today."
"What kind of scrap is this?" balks Skywarp. "Basically, Jameson claims that your reason for siding with robotic space terrorists-which is what the Autobots really are when you scratch the paint off," he continues, "is that you don't want to be attacked by other space terrorists."
"Exactly. While we'd probably have our energy problems licked by siding with you guys," says Peter, "not only would we have the Autobots trying to stop us, but the armies of every spacefaring planet who has a bone to pick with the 'Cybertron Empire'."
Skywarp rolls his optics.
"And that's presuming that you were dealing in good faith with us-and based on what has happened," continues Peter, "we know you wouldn't have-and you won't."
Blades, in his alt mode, approaches the Daily Bugle building. "Set Parker gently down on the roof," he orders.
"My frequency and Blades' are being monitored by the Guardians," adds Night Ranger via radio.
Skywarp pouts as he complies. "How do I complain to Jameson about his obvious collusion with our enemies?" he asks.
"Write him a letter!" says Peter.
Skywarp grins. "I'll hold you to that, Parker," he says. "You make sure he gets it, too," he continues, "because I know where you live." He teleports away.
"Night," says Blades, "I'll take care of things from here. The Protectobots have New York City covered."
"Roger," radios Night Ranger.
Blades transforms. "Did you get any pictures?" he whispers.
"Yeah," says Peter, "but I'm holding out for freelance hazard pay on top of the usual and an interview for Spider-Man."
"Which are you more likely to get from Jameson?" asks Blades.
"I'll just say that Spider-Man's more likely to get his interview," says Peter.
Blades chuckles, then leaves.
Peter looks around, ducks behind a roof alcove, and slips off his clothes; he then dons a webbed red mask matching his costume.
After checking his web shooters, Peter-now Spider-Man-shoots a stream of webbing at a nearby skyscraper. "'It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...'" he sings.
END SPECIAL FOUR
