TRANSFORMERS: CYBERTRON SAGA
NOBLE DEMON Special #7: A Piece of Work.
byline: Anubis C. Soundwave
Scene: 1
"Dad," says Buster, "these aren't my socks. They're too big."
"You're getting tall," says Sparkplug. "You'll grow into them."
"Whoever owns these has huge feet," continues Buster, "and is probably mad that he doesn't have this." He hands Sparkplug a small package.
Sparkplug's face reddens as he takes the package from Buster. Graydon will probably send his bargain-bin Green Berets after me when this ends, he says to himself.
Buster stares at Sparkplug.
"I've already explained to you what this does," says Sparkplug after a moment, shaking the package for emphasis.
"Mr. Creed's kind of old for Carly," says Buster. "He'll probably bore her to death talking about congressional hearings discussing the X-Men being dangerous."
"Your average City cab drivers are way more dangerous than the man in a wheelchair and a bunch of teenagers."
"Not if the teenagers can fly and punch through walls like Supergirl," counters Buster. "Rogue's hot, though."
Rogue stole those powers from someone who could claim to be Supergirl, muses Sparkplug with a grin, and if Captain Danvers weren't still in a coma from all of that, she'd kick my ass for being involved with anything like Operation Gilgamesh.
Sparkplug and Buster jump at seven knocks on the door.
Of course, that's after Captain Rogers is through tearing me a new asshole, continues Sparkplug. "Adam," he says to Buster, "go to your room."
Buster sighs, then complies with Sparkplug's order.
Sparkplug opens the door, seeing two men.
"So," drawls Sparkplug. "I'm having a chat with the captain and his agent."
Rogers sighs.
Walker gives Sparkplug a crude grin. "Cut the shit, Ronald," he says.
Scene: 2
"'Operation Gilgamesh', stepbrother?" snorts Marko.
"It's from our government," says Xavier, "in coordination with the Canadian government."
"That explains why Sabretooth's been stinking up the Institute," scowls Logan. "Canada's being full of shit as usual."
"Don't you mean 'America'?" scoffs Xavier.
"By law, the US government has to give you lube and the reach-around before it fucks you over," says Logan, picking up a beer. "Canada's government goes in dry and hard." He punctures the can with a claw, drinking the beer as it flows out.
"These metaphors are terrible," says Xavier.
"Give it a rest, Charlie," sneers Marko. "You're probably next after Creed."
"Why?" asks Xavier. "I've been as cooperative as needed with the government."
"The same reason I'm here and the big toothy hairball's playin' nice with Creed," says Marko. "Me-the Juggernaut-had to deal with that Motormaster jackass' voice in my head even with my helmet. That ain't supposed to happen."
"The Decepticons," says Logan. "Abernathy's people still can't convince Prime to share the Autobots' Cybertronian tech, so the US brass wants to weaponize mutants."
"For what it's worth, General Abernathy doesn't want to exploit mutants or other superhumans," says Xavier.
"So the big boys on Capitol Hill-*" says Marko.
"Senator Kelly, leaning on Senator MacKeane," says Xavier.
"-pulled Chuckie's crippled ass out of retirement," chortles Marko.
"Along with you, Sergeant Marko," counters Xavier, a wry smile on his face.
"Creed's carrying the X-gene," says Logan, "so he might shoot a live bullet. Since the bastard's a self-hatin' mutant-and with Sabretooth for a father, I don't blame him," he adds, "Creed doesn't want to do that."
"To say nothing of Miss Banas' complete disinterest in pregnancy," adds Xavier, "given her young age and her career aspirations."
"Why does Canada keep bringing Sabretooth on these missions!?" spits Logan. "If their goal was..."
Scene: 3
"...to have me blow my load in a woman-and I have no desire to spread my taint: hence my celibacy," says Graydon, annoyed as he rummages through his suitcase, "then why didn't they hunt down my mutant whore of a mother? She's been around."
"My friends tell me that she's a shapeshifter, so she's likely hard to find," says Carly. "Otherwise, she would've turned into me and accomplished 'the mission'."
"Hell, it worked on Victor Creed," snorts Graydon. "But I don't know why the leading lights responsible for 'Operation Gilgamesh' think that I-born as a normal person with an inert X-gene-could produce a damned mutant."
If Ratchet was right, muses Carly, Mr. Creed's X-gene...
Scene: 4
"It's active!?" balks Sparkplug.
Ratchet nods. "His blood, inside you, kept your bones from being pulverized by Thundercracker's fist that day," he says.
He saved my life again, says Sparkplug to himself.
"Creed inherited his father's accelerated healing factor," continues Ratchet, "and his mother's psionic transdimensional malleability."
"You mean Mystique's shapeshifting," says Sparkplug.
"Yeah," says Ratchet. "Those two abilities mesh very well together," he continues, "and in the younger Mr. Creed, that means his healing factor-prodded by his visceral hate for mutants-is forcing his shapeshifting to keep every part of him 'normal'."
"A subconscious block on his powers..." says Sparkplug. "That explains some of the shit he's survived. My Army superiors," he adds, pensive, "probably noticed and did some advanced blood work while he was recuperating from injuries. Shit...!"
"Why would your sector's government target Creed?" asks Ratchet.
"He's running a violent hate group," sighs Sparkplug. "Remember the visit from those SPLC guys?"
"A little," says Ratchet. "We're preoccupied with our own problems-which affect Earth."
Sparkplug laughs. "Even if we succeed in getting Graydon to disband the Friends of Humanity-which has somehow managed to unite Klansmen with Black Power activists," he says, "we'd still have to deal with the neo-Nazis: because Graydon hates Nazis and won't take them."
"You've gotta have high standards with your bigoted hate groups," grins Ratchet.
"Yeah; Graydon's self-aware enough to realize that the Nazis' crap created Magneto," says Sparkplug, shaking his head, "but he's not taking the next logical leap and accepting that he can't waste his life harassing mutants for existing."
"So Carly's supposed to 'fix' him with sexual healing," quips Ratchet.
Skydive shrugs. "Creed needs a hard frag," he says, "and Carly needs the experience."
"I tried the 'hard frag' part during our active-duty time together," says Sparkplug. "Graydon stuck to hand-jobs from prostitutes, and if he didn't want to bother, he always had tube socks."
"In other words, Sparkplug: you stole the man's tube socks, so he can't tool off," says Silverbolt wryly.
"That is my only contribution to this madness," says Sparkplug. "Otherwise, I hope that they both have my care packages."
"The analog firewalls," says Skydive.
"Not one hundred percent effective on their own," says Sparkplug, "but Carly's also on some contraceptives."
Scene: 5
"I invite Tribune to our private island," says Shinobi, "only to pull this dirty trick on him."
Sebastian lights a cigar. "A man must sow his seed as the need arises," he says, tossing small packets into a bonfire. "We can't allow any hindrances to prevent him from properly savoring his lovely friend's pleasurable company."
"Indeed, my boy," adds Leland, popping pills out of a blister pack. "Our dear Miss Banas won't have any need for these. The sugar placebos are more fit for the purpose." Leland crushes the pills into powder in his bare hand.
"You're both rat bastards," says Shinobi; he smiles.
"Our Inner Circle is accomodating the Canadian government's special agent, at the behest of the US and the UK as well," says Sebastian. "In return, the international community will be more than happy to overlook our Club activities."
Scene: 6
Graydon steers the jet ski. "If we're going to frustrate them," he says, "we'll need to leave Shinobi's island hideaway."
"It's...difficult," says Carly. "Part of me wants to give in."
"You're driving me crazy," says Graydon; he briefly licks Carly's cheek.
Carly giggles.
"But I know that half-Japanese bastard Shinobi's in on this bullshit," continues Graydon, "because his supposed father's no longer dead."
"Aren't they part of some private high-society club?" asks Carly. "They probably have wizards with resurrection spells."
"I put nothing past Sebastian Shaw," says Graydon, a rueful grin on his face, "who's probably immortal and will outlast the heat death of the universe."
Scene: 7
Wow, says Carly to herself, studying a black armor. "Doesn't look like anything from Stark Industries," she whispers. "Definitely our tech, though," she continues, opening a hatch. "Red Alert won't give Sparkplug a hard time worrying about 'security leaks' and 'sieves', and Optimus won't order a strike on Graydon's house."
"I certainly hope not," says Graydon, switching on the lights; he walks down the stairs, shutting the door to the basement. "I'm still paying off the mortgage on this place."
Carly gasps. "I know; I'm too nosy for my own good," she says, collecting herself. "At the same time, what do you need an Iron Man-style armor for? You're a political activist."
"Some of my high-roller associates play rough," says Graydon, "and this armor helps me even the odds a bit." He approaches Carly and the armor.
"Like the younger Mr. Shaw?" asks Carly.
Graydon nods. "When I first met them, I was wearing this suit," he says, stroking the armor. "That's why Shinobi calls me 'Tribune'."
Carly sighs. "Sparkplug's really sticking out his neck for you," she says. "Optimus is serious about avoiding Cybertronian tech in our hands."
"Too late for that," scoffs Graydon. "That ship sailed the moment Swindle sold his gestaltmates' parts off."
"Reverse-engineering," says Carly. "I had to help repair Fireflight when he got back to the Ark from Taiwan: years ago. Swindle sold Cybertronian tech to us happily."
"The Combaticons are effectively conscripts," says Graydon, touching his chin.
"They're loyal to the Cause, I'm afraid," says Carly, studying a component inside the Tribune armor. "Not many defectors from the Decepticons joining the Autobots."
"Don't you think you're studying my suit too closely?" asks Graydon.
"I'm making sure everything in here is provably ours," says Carly, taking out the component. "This looks like a transformation cog."
"It's one that I had Dr. Trask make for me," says Graydon, "based on some black market parts I procured through MARS."
"Destro was all over Swindle's fire sale of his teammates' dismembered parts-and anything else Swindle had for sale!" balks Carly.
"Which were all returned," says Graydon. "Dr. Trask was able to reverse-engineer the cog," he continues, "but wasn't able to modify it for his Sentinel project. Transformation would really improve their stealth."
"So Tribune transforms into..." says Carly, shaking her head as she notes the pair of wheels. "A motorcycle."
Graydon nods. "Let me demonstrate it: outside," he says. "I can also take you back to your hotel room."
Scene: 8
Why does this man's life seem like a bad action movie!? wonders Carly, wincing as she wraps her arms around Graydon's waist. "They're opening the bridge!" she cries aloud.
"I know," hisses Graydon, driving Tribune towards the opening bridge, "but either we 'do our own stunts' or get murdered by Stryker's religious mouthbreathers!"
"Why are they after you!?" asks Carly. "Aren't you and Stryker both on the same 'kill all mutants' bandwagon?"
"Right now, I'm the only one who stands a chance in hell of getting elected to public office," says Graydon; he successfully clears the ramp.
"We should call the Protectobots," says Carly.
"For this?" says Graydon. "No; they'll see Tribune and piss me off as they destroy five years worth of expensive engineering work."
A silver-haired man exits a dark blue sedan. "I should've known you'd be reckless, Mr. Creed," he says as other cars approach. "But to damn the innocent young woman with you? How callous."
"Go to hell, Stryker!" says Graydon.
Men emerge from the other cars.
"The typical prattle born of your unbelief, Graydon," says Stryker, the silver-haired man. "But God has still chosen you."
"I know you hate anything competing with your off-brand PTL schtick, 'reverend'," sneers Graydon, "but why try to kill me now?"
"You won't listen to godly reason, Graydon," says Stryker. "Nonetheless, I don't intend to kill you. You're not a sinner or a demonic mutant," he continues, "but a wayward brother of the faith who must receive the rod of correction and reproof." He gestures toward Graydon and Carly.
"Fuck this shit!" spits Graydon, pressing a button on a gold wristband below his watch.
Tribune breaks apart, then reassembles as armor over Graydon.
Graydon picks Carly up, activating a forcefield as he takes off; he speeds past Rogue.
"Hey!" Rogue shrieks at the speeding powered armor; she dodges several bullets from the ground.
"A mutant!" cries Stryker. "Strike that abomination from the sky!"
"Aw, Jesus!" spits Rogue, tapping her communicator as she continues to dodge gunfire.
Scene: 9
"What's happening, Rogue?" asks Xavier.
"Some asshole flew past me in armor like Iron Man's," says Rogue through the communicator, "and now I'm dealin' with Stryker and his Church people."
"Disengage, Rogue," orders Xavier, worry in his eyes. "Don't attempt to drain Stryker."
"Why not!?" Rogue demands.
"I can't-and don't have time-to explain!" says Xavier. "I'll need you to trust me on this."
"I've got a low supply on that, professor," says Rogue.
"Fair enough," says Xavier, a wry smile on his lips. "Just consider that you're outnumbered. Retreat is wise."
"Fine," groans Rogue.
"Professor," asks Jean, "why wouldn't you let Rogue fight?"
Xavier trembles. "Stryker's mind..." he says. "All of their minds...are void."
"What...?" wonders Jean.
"Stryker was speaking," says Xavier, "but without emotion or thought. As though his words were stock, preprogrammed phrases."
"Like Cameron Hodge," says Jean, "when you had that debate on TV."
"And other affiliated anti-mutant groups," says Xavier. "Something has happened to their leaders," he continues, "which has erased their minds: and the groups' members have followed suit."
"What about Creed?" asks Jean.
"He and the Friends," says Xavier. "Most of the core members are still themselves." He closes his eyes.
Scene: 10
"Get the fuck out of my head!" snarls Graydon.
"I just want to ensure your safety, Mr. Creed," says Xavier's voice, in Graydon's mind. "When did you start to realize that Stryker and Hodge weren't themselves?" he asks.
Scowling, Graydon shoots further up into the atmosphere.
"I'll call you over the phone later," says Xavier. "Don't be reckless, Mr. Creed: for Carly's sake if nothing else."
"Get out!" demands Graydon.
"Who were you shouting at?" asks Carly.
"Xavier," says Graydon. "I don't need that bastard rummaging through my mind."
Scene: 11
"He flew?" wonders Hot Spot.
"In powered armor like mine?" asks Stark: suited up as Iron Man.
Rogue nods. "It was black. He had a forcefield around 'im," she says, "and he was carryin' a girl: blonde."
"Carly was supposed to check into her hotel room four hours ago," says Groove.
"'Carly'?" asks Rogue.
"A friend of ours," says Groove. "She's finishing up her summer break from MIT."
"Carly Banas," adds Hot Spot.
"Oh! The genius girl workin' with you Autobots," says Rogue. "Why are those guys from the Church of Human Potential after her?"
"They aren't after her," says Streetwise. "They're after the guy in the armor: Graydon Creed."
"That explains why the shithead tried to plow through me," says Rogue. "But why are the Church after him?"
Stark disengages his helm, then touches his chin. "The different anti-mutant groups are all trying to consolidate," he says, "but Creed doesn't want in; he's keeping the Friends of Humanity out of it...for the most part. A lot of Friends members are joining either the Church or the Right."
"It don't make sense for Creed to be against joinin' with those other assholes to kill mutants," says Rogue. "There's somethin' wrong..."
Scene: 12
Graydon lands in a clearing near a log cabin; he disperses Tribune's forcefield, sets Carly down, then disengages Tribune: which remerges, then transforms into a motorcycle.
Carly stares at Tribune, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Dr. Trask is a smart man," she says, "and while you'll hate me for saying this, I'm glad that he can't figure out a way to make this work for Sentinels."
"You're taking this well," says Graydon.
"I don't have much of a choice," says Carly, folding her arms. "What made you pick the middle of nowhere, North America?"
"Not 'nowhere'," says Graydon. "Edmonton, Alberta. One of my members said that I could 'crash' here whenever I needed."
"So we're safe here?" asks Carly.
"Yes," says Graydon. "He's one of my most reliable guys," he continues, pulling out his wallet; he takes out a photo. "Blond guy with the sunglasses."
Carly blinks at the photo. I don't have the heart to tell him, she says to herself.
"Is something wrong, Carly?" asks Graydon.
"What did your guy say about this place?" wonders Carly.
"It was his grandfather's cabin," says Graydon. "The only safe place from his father's abuse when he was a kid."
"You don't envy him for having a father, do you?" asks Carly.
Graydon shakes his head. "The father tried to rip out my guy's teeth when he was just nine!" he says. "Who the fuck does that?"
"Guys like your grandfather," says Carly, "who basically think like you do."
"Zebediah Creed," says Graydon, quiet. "All but the firstborn of his kids were some flavor of mutant..." he continues, "and Victor was an early bloomer."
Carly sits on a treestump; she gazes at Graydon.
"If I had to judge them as individuals," Graydon continues, "then I could bring myself to forgive my sire's ignorance. He didn't know I existed. My sorry excuse for a mother, though..." he says, disgust in his eyes. "I can't care like an ethical person-no. I could, but I don't want to."
"Easier to just want her dead," says Carly.
"It's the only concern I can have for her," says Graydon, "and I damn her for that. My life, my path, my actions and choices are my own," he continues, "yet there's an emptiness: a mother-shaped hole...where that stupid blue-skinned freak was supposed to be."
"Being abandoned by a mother just seems unnatural," says Carly. "But maybe she's just thinking like a sea turtle: bury her egg and let it hatch and survive on its own."
Graydon sits on the ground, then leans back onto Carly's lap. "We're placental mammals," he says. "In our case, a species of hairy, warm-blooded apes who birth their young and care for them."
"I wish I were never conceived," says Carly.
Graydon blinks. "Why?" he asks.
"Because I love my mom," says Carly, "and I want her to feel free: to take back her life."
Graydon sits up, turning to face Carly; he balances himself in a crouch. "You're alive, gracing my benighted existence for two reasons. One, because society during her time was dominated by people who thought your birth mattered more than your mother's agency-though such people's opinions are unimportant. The important reason: the one that's relevant and matters," continues Graydon, touching Carly's chin, "is that she loves you."
"So she chose to be a single mom scared of her own shadow," scoffs Carly.
"The alternative was a shotgun wedding to your puke of a sire," says Graydon.
"No," says Carly. "But I know Mom wasn't happy-not fully. She wanted to have a husband to share her joys and trials with, but...I was in the way."
Graydon chuckles, sittin down next to the treestump. "You were wiser than your years," he says. "Figured out that your mother might only attract the attention of men like the one who hurt her, so you played the role of a sweetly-incorrigible brat when you were little."
"At least until I could talk to her-when she caught on," says Carly. "I told her that she didn't have to 'hunt for a dad' if she didn't want to. I didn't want her pushing herself to be outgoing. But that put her to the other smothering extreme," she adds.
Graydon studies Carly.
"I didn't really notice much because I wanted to get school out of the way so that I could work with machines," says Carly, smiling at Tribune. "Machines make sense...or at least they used to: when they weren't alien lifeforms fighting in a civil war-and grappling with emotions as crazy as ours."
"Optimus needs to quit putting our miserable asses on this pedestal," says Graydon, "and share the tech we need to fight Megatron on equal footing. If we're stupid enough to blow ourselves up afterwards, then so be it."
"The other apes might take over," grins Carly.
"Those sorry fools are wastes of opposable thumbs who can't throw for shit, can't swim, and barely understand tool use," says Graydon. "The Planet of the Apes would never have happened in reality."
"But SKYNET?" asks Carly.
"With the likes of clowns like Andrews at Quantum Labs, entirely possible," says Graydon.
"What about Dr. Trask?" says Carly.
"He understands the importance of security," says Graydon.
Carly rolls her eyes; she touches Graydon's cheek, smiles, then kisses Graydon.
Graydon briefly responds to the kiss, then breaks it. "I'm not one to complain about being kissed by a beautiful woman," he says, "but..."
"Take me," says Carly.
"What?" wonders Graydon.
"Let's just pretend," says Carly, a light tone to her voice as she unbuttons Graydon's polo shirt, "that we're in an average world without robots, mutants, and rapist Nazi wannabes." She kisses Graydon again. "A world where us having sex won't lead to some kind of catastrophe," she adds, breaking the kiss.
Graydon stands, taking Carly's hand; he pulls her up, then draws her to him. "I've never been good at make-believe," he says, "but I'm willing to just not care about this world's madness for a while." Graydon kisses Carly: cradling her in his arms.
Carly returns the kiss as she and Graydon enter the cabin.
After about fifteen minutes, Victor leaps down from a worn treehouse into the clearing; he sniffs the air, then chuckles. "About fucking time..." he mutters. He sits on the treestump, lighting a cigar.
Scene: 13
"You dare to insult Doom," scowls Doom, in his bathrobe.
"Yes, yes; I'm a presumptuous, arrogant twit," says Strange. "Comes with my job. I just want to stop you from doing something stupid," he continues.
Susan pinches Doom's cheek.
"At least you're not trying to asphyxiate me with your forcefields this time, Mrs. Richards," says Doom.
"You're in a mood, Victor," says Richards, poking the prominent scar on Doom's face.
Doom glowers at Richards; he dons a metal gauntlet from his uniform, then backhands Richards.
Pulling his head back into place, Richards rubs his cheek. "Okay; we're ninety-two percent sure that you're not a Doombot," he says. "And that hurt."
"That was a preemptive strike against any of your inane 'I told you so' rants, Richards," says Doom.
"Backup and save is standard record-keeping practice," says Richards.
"I did that!" fumes Doom. "Whoever erased and destroyed my proof of Megatron's perfidy," he continues, "deleted my backups as well."
Richards looks up towards Optimus and Small Foot. "Now you see our problem," he says.
"This seems to be related to the Beta Cygnus II Pact," says Optimus, nodding towards Small Foot, "which would be her concern. It doesn't directly relate to the Autobots."
"If the Decepticons interfere with Latveria's internal concerns," says Small Foot, "they're in violation of the Pact-which would, frankly, help you."
"Unless you had a compelling interest in destroying the evidence: the bodies of Doom's lawfully-executed convicts," says Strange.
"I sent the Aerialbots to retrieve the bodies of those convicts: as they had dual-citizenship in Latveria and the United States," says Optimus.
"Yet I had no bodies to give them," says Doom. "Someone destroyed them."
"The bodies relate to your speculation," says Optimus, "that various anti-mutant groups have been compromised-with Cybertronian nanotech: which does need to be destroyed. Nonetheless, I don't operate that way."
"Which of your guys in the Autobots would 'operate that way' behind your back?" asks Small Foot. "If they got the results you needed," she adds, "you'd tolerate it even if you hated it: for the Autobot war effort."
"Only two Aerialbots are cunning enough to engage in that level of subterfuge," says Optimus, his tone even. "Only one of them has the skill to delete your electronic records," he continues, "and both of them were with their wingmates."
The group turns toward the door to Doom's bedchamber, hearing a knock at the door.
"You may enter," says Doom.
Night Ranger enters the bedchamber. "To get to the point, Your Excellency," he says, "my scans are complete. There aren't any signs of cybernetic tampering with your records."
"Someone destroyed Latveria's records," says Doom, donning the rest of his uniform.
"Agreed," says Night Ranger. He hands Doom a human-sized datapad. "There was a brief discharge of Terrigen vapor," he adds.
"That only triggers when there's someone with an active X-gene in sensitive areas of my castle keep," says Doom. "I've managed to secure a few Terrigen crystals."
"That exonerates the Autobots, then," says Optimus. "Only organics have genetic traits."
"Or half-organics," say Small Foot and Night Ranger in unison.
"Terrigen exposure is toxic for Guardian-class mecha as well," continues Night Ranger, "but our mechanical systems can protect us by filtering that scrap out of our pneumatic intakes before it can hit our braincases."
"The infiltrator was human-Earthian, I should say for clarification," says Doom. "This narrows down the suspect list considerably: to two people on Earth."
"One is Mystique, and the other's a former Factor Three man," says Strange.
"Which was a mutant terrorist group formed by an over-ambitious alien," says Richards. "Our life here on Earth is very weird."
"We can all agree to that," says Optimus, a trace of mirth in his optics. Small Foot and Night Ranger both nod.
"Where is Sidney now?" asks Strange, giving Doom a knowing look.
"The man Kevin Sidney," says Doom, "is a soldier of fortune: at present in service to Latveria."
"Okay, Vic," says Richards, "we won't pry: as long as you're working with us and not against us."
"Until the Decepticons are made to see the futility of seizing Earth: the planet of Doom," says Doom, "I must lie in bed with my enemies."
"For him, it's a territorial dispute he has with Megatron," Richards whispers to Strange.
"It's our planet too," pouts Strange. "He never learned to share as a child."
"So!" says Doom, locking eyes onto Optimus. "If Doom can retain the services of a human shapeshifter, then so can the Autobots: for the purpose of plausible deniability."
"I wouldn't bother," says Optimus, folding his arms.
"Who in your faction's ranks would?" asks Doom, quiet.
Optimus gazes at Doom a moment; he relaxes his arms. "One would if he were authorized by his superior officer: one of my co-commanders on Cybertron-whom I won't identify," he says.
"Fair enough," says Doom. "Please depart, Optimus Prime."
"You heard him," says Small Foot, grabbing Optimus' arm. "Let's go."
"Doom didn't give you a request," adds Night Ranger.
Reluctantly, Optimus complies, exiting Doom's bedchamber.
Scene: 14
"My troops stand accused of subterfuge," says Optimus.
"If you want to clear your faction's good name," says Small Foot, "then antagonizing our ally Latveria isn't the way to do it."
"Also, Doom's accusation isn't meritless," adds Night Ranger. "Ever since that one foul-up of yours six M-cycles ago, you've either cossetted or browbeaten your organic allies-to the point where some of them surrendered to the Decepticons just to get rid of you."
"You can't pull your scrap with Earthians," says Small Foot.
"Richards and Strange know that Doom's likely to use any of our tech against humanity," counters Optimus, "in his bid to conquer Earth."
"Doom has a regional variant of Megatron's 'peace through tyranny' mindset," says Night Ranger, "but because he's not the prejudical pile of slag Megatron is, I believe Doom can be talked out of it."
"He loves Latveria more than he wants to subjugate Earth," says Small Foot.
"So he says," says Optimus, skeptical.
"Optimus," says Small Foot, "we are allies with both Latveria and the United States. The Guardians won't let anyone frag these sectors."
"What did you promise Doom in exchange for his cooperation?" asks Optimus.
"To benefit Latveria," says Night Ranger. "Leader One has already informed him that Earth is off-limits."
Optimus chuckles. "More 'honor system' junk," he scoffs.
"The security issues with our shuttles are due to budget constraints," says Night Ranger, a wry grin on his face.
"I did notice that you tried," says Optimus. "We just needed Fitor more at the time."
"You're not getting him," grins Small Foot.
Optimus stretches briefly...then punches the wall near Small Foot's head: denting the wall. "You need to learn," he says, "to quit punching above your weight class." He backs away, then transforms and drives off.
Small Foot shakes her head. "Who are the guys in Optimus' inner circle of leadership-aside from Elita One, of course?" she asks.
"Ultra Magnus, Liokaiser, Ginrai, and Pointblank," says Night Ranger, adjusting his visor. "I know Lio and Ginrai," he continues, "and it was because of them that I even tried to get us allied with the Autobots. Of course, Optimus' failure to trust us to understand the truth led to the Vilnacron Incident."
"Where we had to choose between our allies and the Autobots," says Small Foot. "In this case-as much as I can't stand Optimus now," she adds, "I wish we didn't have to choose."
"We can't afford to stick our necks out for allies who won't trust us," says Night Ranger. "Earth is such a steadfast ally in spite of the Autobots...though it's because Earthians' limited tech leaves Earth with very few options."
"Knowing Leader One," says Small Foot, "he's working on some underhanded plan to expand Earth's options...so that they don't throw in their lot with the Decepticons."
"Or have to put up with the Autobots' scrap," adds Night Ranger. "The humans of Earth have to become spacefarers," he continues, "so that they can see the bigger picture."
Scene: 15
"Wakanda can't be your whole world, T'Challa!" says Road Ranger.
"It's true," says T'Challa. "Wakanda isn't the world, and the world isn't Wakanda. It's for that reason," he continues, "that I must respectfully refuse your offer of alliance-as I intended to even before your Head Senator's overture."
"You want to rely on your own strength," says Road Tracker, "without leaning on the Guardians or the Autobots."
"What one gives, one may take away," says T'Challa. "Yet learning cannot be stolen: from a single man or from a people. Through our struggle and study," he adds, "we will grow stronger: as allies in our own right."
"Your sector has a target on its back," says Road Ranger, "not only because of your rich resources, but also your self-righteous arrogance."
"You don't believe the Western powers to be arrogant and self-righteous?" wonders T'Challa.
"Of course they are," drawls Road Tracker. "Those Western countries-especially the European ones," he adds, "are the worst. But they know when to draw a line, and put their egos in check."
T'Challa gazes at Road Ranger and Road Tracker.
Road Tracker sighs. "Forget it; let's go, son," he says in Gobou-go.
"T'Challa's attitude of misplaced superiority will only endanger his people in the long run,' says Road Ranger to Road Tracker.
"It's on his head, not ours," says Road Tracker. "We can't make Wakanda sign the Pact."
Road Ranger winces, then takes off into the sky.
Road Tracker sighs, then bows to T'Challa. "We'll take leave, Your Majesty," he says. He follows Road Ranger into the sky.
Storm scowls. "You would choose this," she says, "on behalf of all of the people of Wakanda."
"I am Wakanda's protector, like my father before me," says T'Challa, "and on and on: down the line of descent for Wakanda's kings."
"I see..." says Storm, her frown softening. "You're not wrong with regard to protecting your people, as your predecessors did. They witnessed the degradation of other nations in Africa: Nigeria, Congo, Zimbabwe, Ethiopia; you agree with your forebears in resolving," Storm continues, "that Wakanda will not join that list of failed and failing states."
"Even sad fools like Killmonger would, at his worst, only manage to reduce us to the level of South Africa," says T'Challa. "Respectable, but far less than Wakanda has the potential to be-as all African nations, and indeed, all nations on Earth possess. I see Wakanda as an exemplar state," he continues, "where other world leaders who visit in good faith study our success and implement our policies, just as I..."
"...and other kings before you, have studied and visited other nations to determine each nation's best practices," finishes Storm. "Then-speaking as an American by birth," she continues, "beware the dangers of 'Wakandan exceptionalism'."
"America is a young nation, and is not alone in that error, Ororo," says T'Challa.
"No nation on Earth can claim to be equal to the threat of the Decepticons," says Storm.
"The nations on Earth can't afford to become dependent on outside powers: the Autobots or the Guardians," counters T'Challa.
Storm sighs.
Scene: 16
"What'd you do now, Elita?" asks Pointblank over the video commlink.
Elita laughs. "When I do something on Earth, Optimus will know it," she says.
"So you have something planned," say Optimus and Ginrai in unison.
"It's an ongoing plan," says Elita. "I've just left out a few details."
"Don't let these 'details' endanger Earth, Elita," warns Optimus, "or you will answer to me."
"You let yourself get blindsided-again," says Liokaiser.
"Magnus," says Optimus, his tone cool. "Who of your operatives are on Earth?"
"Optimus," says Ultra Magnus, "I thought you trusted me."
"I do trust you," says Optimus. "I'm just making sure I can trust your operatives to stand down if and when I give the order."
"Even if it impacts our war effort on Cybertron?" asks Ultra Magnus.
"Earth is our strongest ally yet," says Optimus, "one we can't afford to lose to the misguided actions of overzealous troops."
Ultra Magnus sighs. "Arcee is on Earth: deep cover mission. Intel only," he says.
"She's with the Wreckers," says Liokaiser. "Her job ended up being 'keep Springer alive'."
"She's solid, Optimus," adds Ginrai.
"Right up your alley, Optimus," says Elita.
"Agreed," says Optimus. "Arcee's honest: not the type to play the 'plausible deniability' card. The mech I think you deployed, Magnus," he continues, "is someone with a low opinion of organics who has turned previous allies against us."
"But! 'He gets results'," sneers Pointblank.
"Even if we'd get better results with our allies by surrendering to Megatron," adds Ginrai.
"That's not happening," say Optimus, Elita, Ultra Magnus, and Liokaiser.
"What are you getting at, Optimus?" asks Ultra Magnus.
"Terrigen," says Optimus.
Liokaiser's optics widen. "Unless they have a specific genetic structural alignment," he says, "any organic with an active X-gene will die."
"I have reason to believe that an Earthian human-with an active X-gene," says Optimus, gently pushing back a lock of red hair from a sleeping Mystique's forehead, "has been exposed to Terrigen mist."
"How?" asks Ultra Magnus.
"She broke into a secure part of Dr. Doom's castle in Latveria," says Optimus, "to destroy records on Cybertronian nanotech, as well as the human bodies infused with this nanotech."
"We can't let Earthians reverse-engineer our nanotech, Prime," says Ultra Magnus.
"So you authorized a certain someone to coerce this woman to act on our behalf," glowers Optimus.
"She's a known criminal and terrorist on Earth," says Ultra Magnus.
"She's Kurt's mama!" spits Rogue. "We got issues with Mystique, sure-she's made a lot of enemies: includin' her own kin," she continues, "but I'll be damned if you think it's right to just grab her and make her do your biddin'!"
"This young woman," says Optimus, "brought her to our care."
"We can't just 'go to Attilan'," says Rogue. "Gotta get a passport and be approved by their 'High Council'-even if Black Bolt said we could come."
"If Mystique dies," says Optimus, grave, "I'll have no choice but to have you confined and surrendered to the custody of her government sector..." He looks toward Rogue.
"She was born here in America," says Rogue, "back when it was a bunch of colonies."
"She met Sabretooth's grandfather when she was a little girl during the Revolutionary War," adds Logan. "Got that from independent sources."
Rogue blinks. "Who?" she asks.
"Somebody like me who fought in the Revolutionary War," says Logan.
Ultra Magnus, Elita, Liokaiser, and Pointblank all stare at Logan.
"Given your birth nationality," muses Optimus, "your contact-presuming he has your physiology-must have served in the British Army at the time."
"Yeah; the old bastard was a Redcoat-along with Sabretooth's granddad," says Logan.
"Where is he now?" asks Spike.
Logan laughs. "He's sippin' tea at his house in Westchester," he says, "down the street from the X-Mansion."
"Tried to subjugate my ancestors," scoffs Spike, "and now he's a naturalized US citizen."
"Hey, America grows on you after a while," says Logan. "Always shit to do here."
"We have laws to address Mystique's crimes," says Spike, "so we don't need anybody unilaterally deciding which humans live and die on Earth."
"I'm prepared to answer for the actions of my operative," says Ultra Magnus, "but I won't reveal their identity."
"So the bastard's still on or near Earth," mutters Logan, "plannin' other moves."
"Ultra Magnus," says Optimus, "for your sake, and the sake of our alliance with Earth: let's hope that Mystique lives. Optimus out." He terminates the videoconference commlink.
Scene: 17
Max, a silver-haired man in a black shirt and maroon slacks, smiles as Storm lands on his patio. "Dangerously beautiful as always, Ororo," he says.
"Be quiet." Storm glares at the patio deck.
"I was right." Max stands, then pulls out a chair.
Storm trembles. "I shouldn't be here," she says. "I'm being followed."
"You must make the decision that's best for you, Ororo Munroe," says Max.
"You're just as insufferable as T'Challa," says Storm.
"True," says Max, "but I can actually kill a Decepticon if needed to protect mutantkind." He extends his hand towards a dumpster, crumples it, then restores the dumpster's shape.
"You are one man!" spits Storm.
"And you are one woman," says Max, "who is more than capable of parting the whole damned Pacific Ocean to beach the Decepticons' ship."
"I am not Moses!" Storm shakes her head at Max.
Max laughs. "Alright, then: just lure Megatron out, then hit him with a few lightning bolts."
"Only for Starscream to shoot me down with a null ray-which would disrupt my movement just as much as any machine's," says Storm, "then declare himself the new leader of the Decepticons."
"Damn Charles and his stupid Danger Room." Max gives Storm a rueful grin.
Storm returns the thin smile. "Starscream actually hit me with his null ray," she says, taking off her shirt: leaving her in a sports bra.
Max's eyes widen; he starts to reach for Storm, but stops himself. "Your scars, Ororo," he breathes. "How did you survive?"
Storm rubs her arms. "Logan donated some of his blood," she says. "Most of the burns didn't scar, but..."
Max studies Storm.
"We're outmatched on our own!" Storm tenses her fists.
"I know." Max presents a copy of the Daily Bugle. "Even our enemies know what the Decepticons are: a threat too great for us to ignore in favor of our petty feuds amongst ourselves."
"Hence your murder of two American citizens," says Storm.
"Not murder, but state-sanctioned execution. Those two were dual citizens of the US and Latveria," says Max.
Storm sighs. "At least you're forgoing your sad efforts at pretending you're not you: Magneto."
"I suppose my face is a bit too recognizable," says Max, amused. "Perhaps a pair of glasses and hair dye?" He dons a pair of cosmetic glasses and slicks back his hair.
"The Siegel and Shuster families would want nothing to do with you." Storm folds her arms.
Max chuckles. "Superman," he says, wincing at his framed copy of Action Comics #1. "My uncle Erich got me into him-before the Nazis drove him to Warsaw...where my tribe still wasn't safe: whether they were mutants or not." He opens the Daily Bugle to the editorial page.
Storm picks up the paper, reading the editorial after she sits.
Max resumes his seat, gazing at Storm.
Storm closes the paper. "The Friends of Humanity," she muses. "Jameson must have noticed that Creed's rhetoric against mutants has been muted."
Max grins. "Creed was born with a painfully-healthy immune system," he says, pointing towards a set of folders.
Storm picks up the folders, opening them. She tosses the folders onto the table. "What kind of mad self-hatred is this!?"
"Human," says Max. "No creature on Earth is more insane."
"You, Creed, and I are all human," says Storm.
"And to Megatron," says Max, "we're all sapient vermin standing between him and a rich energy source for Cybertron-and Megatron's empire. Were it not for the Guardians," he continues, "we'd all be extinct or in chains."
Storm nods.
"Creed recognizes this fact, but not Stryker or Hodge." Max touches his chin.
"T'Challa...is just overconfident," says Storm, "which stems from his love for-and pride in-his nation."
"Which he's justly entitled to," says Max, "even if no one outside his nation..."
Storm gives Max a thin smile as she narrows her eyes.
Max sighs. "...cares." He grins back at Storm.
"Thank you," says Storm. "I'm not here to change your opinion on Wakanda," she continues, "but to remind you that you're above coarse language."
"I know multiple obscenities in English, German, French, Yiddish, Roma, Russian, Ukranian, Polish, and Hebrew." Max chuckles. "Still learning Latverian."
Storm pouts. "What would the professor think?"
"You, Ororo, are a sweet summer child compared to us," says Max. "Charles' languages are English, French, Irish, Vietnamese, and Japanese. Not sure where he learned the Japanese to that degree."
"Some of it was from his time in Vietnam," muses Storm, "but his true education's from Logan..." She rises from her seat and frowns, wincing.
Max studies Storm.
"What is your game!?" Storm glares at Max.
"Ororo," says Max. "The last time I have seriously pursued a woman, was the affair that produced Lorna."
"You seem to like the thrill of stealing away a man's prospective wife." Storm laughs, her sound light and brief.
"I'll discuss the matter with Lorna when she chooses to confront me." Max stands, looking into Storm's eyes.
Storm returns Max's gaze, tensing her fists.
"What do you want, Ororo?" asks Max, drawing himself closer.
"Space. Freedom." Storm sighs.
Max touches Storm's chin. "I want you," he says.
Storm blinks, then backs away, frowning. "Why?"
Max stares at Storm.
"What do you stand to gain," continues Storm, "regarding your goals?"
"You presume that my goals need you or your involvement," says Max.
Storm folds her arms. "I will not be used: as a tool or a pawn," she says. "By anyone."
"I have several responses that come to mind." Max closes his eyes, trembling. "None of them are kind or fair."
"Just be honest, 'Max'. Or is it 'Erik'? Or 'Magnus'?" sneers Storm.
"I, Max Eisenhart," says Max, "was born in Nuremberg. I became 'Erik Lehnsherr' in Vinnytsia, after fleeing with the first woman I loved. All those men I once was ever wanted was to live in peace with my family," Max continues, "yet time and time again, that was denied me."
"Tell me that you won't answer me without giving me non-answers," says Storm.
"Which name suits me, in your mind?" asks Max.
"I can only speak for myself." Storm winces. "Throughout everything in my life: especially my struggles in the streets of Cairo-dealing with Farouk: I've only ever been 'Ororo Munroe'."
"Hence your gratitude for Charles: because he protected you." Max nods. "My goals, by the way," he continues, "are the same as Charles'. Our conflict of interest is simply that I cannot pretend that humanity's inhumanity to itself isn't the primary obstacle standing between us and our shared goal."
"Making the likes of Dr. Doom a valuable ally." Storm rolls her eyes.
"Humankind's same foul tendency to destroy itself over our petty differences," says Max, "is Optimus' objection to sharing Cybertronian tech with our governments: so that we can protect ourselves from the Decepticons."
"Coming from the commander of a faction fighting in a war that has nine million years, that rings hollow somehow." Storm chuckles.
"I want the world that Charles wants: one where mankind accepts mutants-without compromise or accommodation." Max glances at his framed copy of Action Comics #1 as he takes off his shirt, baring his chest. "'Never again' means something-everything-to me."
"We both have scars," says Storm.
"Then let's compare them, and enjoy Brazil's glorious weather." Max touches Storm's cheek, then embraces her.
Shivering, Storm flings her arms around Max's shoulders, kissing Max.
As they continue to kiss, Max and Storm shed their clothing, then take to the air; they ascend into the clouds.
Scene: 18
Spike looks up at Optimus. "I want to believe that Ultra Magnus," he says slowly, "is as good an Autobot as you."
Logan gently squeezes Rogue's shoulder; Rogue cradles the still-asleep Mystique in her arms and leaves with Logan.
Optimus winces. "Magnus," he says after a moment, "is a better mech than me, Spike. He's a soldier who's lost everything that he swore to protect," he continues, "and he's determined to get it back."
"That'd be Cybertron during the Golden Age," says Spike.
Optimus nods.
"The thing is," says Spike, "every society has problems it doesn't want to confront-that it sweeps under the rug or ignores."
"Correct," says Optimus. "Your sector's been very fortunate."
Spike shakes his head. "No; we made some of the same mistakes: with prejudice and bigotry-and we're still wrestling with the fallout from that," he says. "I won't let my home fall prey to them again: from other humans or from you guys."
"So you want to throw Cliffjumper back into the sun," scoffs Optimus. "Because I know he's my problem guy."
"While Creed's mine," says Spike, "and I hate the fact that I have to claim him."
"I have more empathy for Creed than for Cliffjumper," says Optimus. "That woman Mystique has indeed made many enemies over her life," he continues, "so I'm in continuous awe at your people's capacity to forgive."
"She was Miss Rogue's mother-figure-ironic, I know: when you think about how she tossed aside both Creed and Mr. Wagner," says Spike. "But when the chips are down, I'm sure Rogue would try to help Mystique."
"I'd imagine that she and the other X-Men would do the same for Creed," says Optimus, "in spite of his bigotry. He is still human; there may be hope for Creed: if Sparkplug is willing to defend him."
"Dad's kind-hearted, and a good man," says Spike. "Me, I want to be fair: to mutants and other humans. Creed makes that difficult," he continues, "because he's made a lot of enemies, too."
"Like both of his parents," says Optimus, "who he'd never gotten the chance to get to know: if we're being fair."
"Why take it out on mutants who had nothing to do with those two?" asks Spike.
"It's easier to lash out in rage," says Optimus, quiet, "than to face your inner demons. Magnus has helped me fight mine over the M-cycles," he adds, "so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt."
Spike touches his chin.
"I suspect that Mystique's enemies won't let her die so painlessly, either," continues Optimus, "and this would include Creed."
END SPECIAL SEVEN
