TRANSFORMERS: CYBERTRON SAGA
NOBLE DEMON Special #8: Saṃsāra.
byline: Anubis C. Soundwave

Scene: 1

"What are you doing, Summers?" asks Graydon.

Scott grins. "Nice of you to use my name, at least," he says, studying a search result on the computer screen.

"Answer my question before I blow your damned brains out, you freak," spits Graydon, drawing a pistol.

"Saving Jean's life," says Scott, "because she's the woman I love."

Graydon touches his chin, holstering his weapon: a Walther P-38. "While theoretically," he says, cool, "Omega's body is massive enough to contain the Phoenix Force, it could compromise him as an Autobot operative."

"That's not what the Phoenix Force wants," says Scott. "It wants its own body: independent of a host that could be forced by the Shi'ar to reject it."

"Are you being controlled by that thing!?" demands Graydon.

"No," says Scott. "Only by my own love: for a friend, comrade...and more."

Graydon glowers.

"You could stand to let yourself love more, Creed," Scott continues. "When you act on love," he adds, "you're actually someone I could learn to respect: someone that makes sense for my dad to defend."

"Your father knows my views on mutants," says Graydon.

"But doesn't know the crap you've pulled over the years: what Jean and I, along with the other X-Men, have had to fight to stop," says Scott.

"I have my reasons for hating your kind," says Graydon.

"We're the same kind," says Scott, annoyed. "Only Magneto wants to label mutants as a different species; we're a subspecies of Homo sapiens if we're going to differentiate between our groups at all."

"To hear Xavier politely shit on activist groups like mine," says Graydon, "we're no better than the Klan or neo-Nazis towards people of other ethnicities: even though the danger of mutants knows no color or nation."

"Yes," says Scott, "because the Friends of Humanity and other groups like it are packs of terrorists: driven by hate and fueled with fear."

Graydon folds his arms.

"Yet all you want now," continues Scott, gazing at Graydon, "is to walk away from all of it."

"None of this drivel has any bearing on what you're doing," says Graydon.

"If the Phoenix Force inhabits its own body," says Scott, "then Lilandra can try to chase after it to kill it all she wants."

"If you go through with your plan," says Graydon, "then a robotic Phoenix would wipe out the Shi'ar-if your plan's even possible."

"It isn't: not with Omega for some reason," says Scott.

"Cybertronians, being robots, are functionally bisexual," says Graydon. "Any dimorphism is largely cosmetic: based on form following whatever arcane function their bodies had in their past," he adds, "when they were mass-produced machines."

"So, to oversimplify: Optimus Prime could become pregnant," says Scott, confused.

Graydon nods.

"Why can't Omega Supreme?" wonders Scott, staring at the schematics for Omega Supreme's model: the Guardian Sentinel.

"I'd have to look over this with Dr. Trask to be sure..." drawls Graydon.

"Make an educated guess, Creed," says Scott. "The last thing I want is Trask looking at these schematics. The fact that Omega's model is called a Sentinel," he continues, "raises the hair on the back of my neck."

"I'm an activist with an interest in politics," says Graydon. "Trask has the technical expertise."

"You're bankrolling Trask's pet project to hunt mutants down," counters Scott, "and you can keep up with Tony Stark in a conversation about robotics and computers. So go with your gut," he adds, "because Trask isn't getting these schematics."

"Why," sneers Graydon, "because you'll kill me?"

"No," says Scott, "because Optimus Prime will destroy the Blackbird and the Starjammer to prevent us Earthians from using Cybertronian tech: with us on it."


Scene: 2

"Carly's aboard this ship!" sputters Graydon. "Would Prime kill his own allies?"

"Collateral damage," says Scott.

"Why!?" demands Graydon.

"We had two damned world wars," says Scott. "We destroyed our own cities, dropping nukes on two of them. Those were our own weapons. If we had Cybertronian tech..."

"We," says Graydon, a wry grin on his face, "would be engaged in tech proliferation and end up starting World War III: blowing ourselves to kingdom come-and robbing the Autobots of a valuable ally."

Scott returns the grin.

"Bullshit!" spits Graydon. "The jackass thinks he's protecting us from ourselves!"

"Like my dad, you've fought in parts of the Cold War: which is-when you brush away euphemisms like 'police action'-essentially a slow-burning World War III," says Scott. "Is Prime wrong?"

"Do you know what Mutually Assured Destruction is, Summers?" asks Graydon.

"The MAD Doctrine," says Scott. "If either we or the Soviets launch nukes, the other fires back, and it's the end of the world."

"Your father and I both pissed away our youth in Asiatic shitholes like Korea and Vietnam," hisses Graydon, "where the enemy would send children as honey traps and foot soldiers to fight clueless damned eighteen year-olds fresh out of our high schools. And we did that shit to prevent what you'd call World War IV," he adds, "which would ensure that any survivors would be fighting the next war with sticks."

Scott studies Graydon.

"Vietnam..." muses Graydon. "The big jackass that got himself buried under a mountain for trying to desert? He adores kids," he says, "and bellowed at a girl who wasn't more than ten years old to scram. She was the enemy's effective sex slave: ordered to offer her 'services' to us."

"If you mean the Jugger-no, Marko," says Scott, "that's understandable."

"Of course," continues Graydon, "that didn't sit well with your saint of a professor. Xavier found the girl, spoke with her: nothing suspicious there. I didn't think he was a mutant until...he had us round up those men: the enemy detachment."

Scott trembles.

"Sparky Witwicky, me, and a bunch of other buck privates had to answer to Xavier and then-Sergeant Marko-his second," says Graydon. "Xavier, in perfect Vietnamese-not the pidgin shit that we picked up while spitting insults at the bastards when we traded shots," he adds, "ordered those men to dig a trench...and it became their graves after he ordered them to shoot each other."

"X-xavier..!?" chokes Scott, adjusting his glasses.

"They obeyed him!" says Graydon, snickering. "They were scared shitless, but they did Xavier's bidding."

"The Xavier I know," says Scott after a moment, "would've verbally ripped out our throats if we even thought to abuse our powers..."

"Let me finish that thought," says Graydon, smiling. "'What a fucking hypocrite'."

"I don't know if it's safe to judge the professor," says Scott, "based on high-stress decisions he made during a war."

Graydon raises an eyebrow.

"In the end, as your commanding officer," continues Scott, "his job was to make sure you and the others in his unit survived: made it home alive. And until 'Sergeant Marko' started his criminal career as the Juggernaut," he adds, "Xavier thought he'd failed."

"Those two hate each other," says Graydon.

"True," says Scott, "with good reason. But there are days when I hate my own brother, Alex," he continues, "so I figure the two stepbrothers have to sort out their sibling rivalry like brothers." Scott chuckles.

"What?" asks Graydon.

"That's what Juggernaut wants: to provoke the professor into a big one-on-one fight between brothers-so they can be real brothers," balks Scott. "And knowing the professor, he doesn't want to do that."

"Why not?" wonders Graydon.

"Because the professor would scramble the Juggernaut's mind and likely kill him," says Scott. "Do you really think that he-that any of us-asked for our powers?"

Graydon scowls. "No one asks for any inborn genetic traits," he says. "Unfortunately for you and other mutants-including Xavier-your powers make you a threat to mankind."

"We aren't going to crawl into a hole to die," says Scott tersely, "not when we're trying to learn to control our powers: use them to help people."

"To bring this back to our actual topic: the Phoenix Force," says Graydon after a moment, "I'd guess that, basically, Omega Supreme can't get pregnant like other Cybertronians."

Scott nods. "He can only transmit data packets," he says. "Omega's the last of his model: and the only one to become sapient."

"Then Spay-C is..." says Graydon.


Scene: 3

"S-summation: inadequate..." says Omega, confusion on his face.

Spay-C, in her Super Mode, leans against Omega's torso; she scowls. I would not have involved Omega Supreme in this, Phoenix-entity, she says to the Phoenix Force through an alpha channel. He has never accessed data transmission protocols, because they were non-essential to his primary function.

Then teach him, says the Phoenix Force. He will adapt.

I have not used them myself, counters Spay-C, not since I was in Guardian Academy. You must guide us, entity.

Omega chuckles. "The Phoenix Force...didn't think this plan through," he says wryly.

Spay-C lifts her Super Mode visor and disengages her battle mask, staring at Omega with wide optics. "Your speech..." she says, stunned.

"Normally, my speech is succinct," says Omega, "to maintain focus on my function: my duty."

"This is unorthodox. Perhaps knowledgeable guides," says Spay-C. "I will contact the Constructicons-*"

"No," says Omega, his optics briefly flashing violet.

"Hook and Scrapper are experts in-*" Spay-C starts again, backing away from Omega.

"I will never trust them," says Omega, glowering. "Never forgive..."

"Is there a Cybertronian you can trust," asks Spay-C, "who understands what needs to be done, and how it works with your frame?"


Scene: 4

Corsair stares out of a window of the Starjammer. "Looks like there are some performance issues," he muses.

"Dad...?" says Scott; he looks out of the window. "Damn it! It's not rocket science!"

"He's a rocket launch bay, and she's a space shuttle," grins Corsair. "For at least one of them, it is 'rocket science'."

"Give some pointers then," snorts Scott. "You sired three of us."

"Fuck that, son," says Corsair. "You learn that by doing. The big guy needs to stumble around like everyone else in the galaxy did."

"Maybe you shouldn't have picked the ancient Cybertronian as the Phoenix Force's vessel," says Graydon to Scott.

Carly enters the observation deck with several Starjammers.

"Creed," says Corsair dourly. "Now isn't the time for you to be a smartass. Let's try an actual solution."

"Contact the Autobots," says Graydon. "I'd think their CMO would be the point-robot for this operation."

"What operation would Omega and Spay-C need Ratchet for-oh, no!" cries Carly. "That would be too embarrasing for Omega," she adds, blushing as Spay-C exposes Omega's input cable, then examines it.

Omega gently takes his input cable in his hands, studying it.

"Then perhaps the Constructicons-*" begins Scott.

"No!" shrieks Carly. "One, because they're Decepticons. Two, because the last thing I remember, we nearly lost San Francisco to a giant alien scorpion bird-moth because Omega was fixated on killing them. Only Optimus was able to get Omega to break off his pursuit."

"So you think Omega would trust Optimus for a walk-through?" asks Scott.

"That presumes that Optimus-Omega Supreme's CO-knows how to perform a data packet transfer," says Graydon.

"I think so," says Carly. "Optimus does have a bondmate."

"Contact him, then," orders Corsair.


Scene: 5

"What!?" balks Optimus, speaking into his commlink as he stares at an out-of-place aurora amid several thunderstorms. "I'm dealing with enough confusing scrap as it is!"

"Listen, big guy," says Corsair's voice over the commlink. "My son tells me that you're the leader of the Autobots."

"Who the hell are you!?" demands Optimus.

Scott's voice cuts in. "I'm sorry, Optimus Prime," he says. "This is Cyclops, calling from the Starjammer. You just spoke with its captain, Corsair: my father."

Optimus sighs. "My...apologies, Mr. Summers. Apparently, 'Corsair' could also answer to that," he says.

"Your man Red Alert can give you more info about me," says Corsair.

Carly cuts in. "Optimus," she says, "Omega needs your help; he doesn't know how to interface."

"I understood that much from Corsair," says Optimus. "Omega doesn't have those specific applications pre-loaded like the rest of us. Spay-C has to share hers."

"She can't do that!" says Carly. "She's a Gobot," she continues, "so she only has the gynoid side of things."

"Is Omega's confusion the source of the planet-wide auroras and thundershowers on Earth?" asks Optimus.

"We're orbiting Mercury," says Carly. "I don't think that's possible."

"I'm not in a position to help right now," says Optimus. "Tell Omega to stick his input cable inside Spay-C and see what happens."

"We could've told him that!" snarls Graydon. "If Omega Supreme doesn't have the right programs, it won't make sense to him!"

"How did Omega get into this situation, Mr. Creed?" asks Optimus, irritated.

"It's related to the younger Mr. Summers' desperate bid to save his girlfriend," sneers Graydon.

"I'll need you all to elaborate, please," says Optimus.

The humans respond for several minutes.

"Prime, what's going on?" asks Ironhide as he approaches Optimus.

"Omega's going for his first interface: at the insistence of a cosmic entity that wants to be his chipset," says Optimus, "but he doesn't have the programs-and Spay-C can't share hers because they're incompatible with his systems."

"Damn," muses Ironhide. "That ain't even the weirdest scrap we've dealt with since landin' on Earth."

"I could do it," says Cosmos. "A simple upload, and it'll click."

"All of us are needed here on Earth," says Optimus, "to find the source of these storms and auroras."


Scene: 6

"Too much, much..." sighs Shrapnel, body singed with lightning blasts, "of a good thing, thing...!" He collapses in a heap.

"These frag-blasted storms are abnormal!" spits Hook.

"Agreed," says Scrapper. "The energy output is phenomenal," he continues, "and the energon clarity is exquisite, but attempting to gather this rich energy is a suicidal fool's errand."

"That only explains Shrapnel's attempts," scoffs Hook, glancing at Shrapnel, "not ours."

"Megatron gave the order," says Scrapper.

"Ah, of course," says Hook, annoyed. "The simplest way is to head to the safest zone outside the core storm's eyewall in Brazil: where these supercells are being birthed."

"They're being artificially-generated?" wonders Bonecrusher.

Hook nods. "Some creature on this planet is able to manipulate Earth's climate," he says, "but it's likely not even aware of its extent."

"The storms have an affect on Earth's magnetosphere," says Mixmaster.

"The auroras?" wonders Hook.

"Yes," says Mixmaster. "Something here is toying with the planet's electromagnetic field."

"Since these auroras and supercells appeared simultaneously," says Scrapper, "it stands to reason that there's a related source."

Scavenger turns a knob on an audio transceiver. "It could be Omega," he says. "He's trying to work out interfacing with Spay-C."

"His interfacing protocols would've come with the little upgrade we tried to give him," grins Hook crudely, "but knowing Omega, he's blocked out everything related to the Robo-Smasher."

"Which means that the Autobots have to coach the big dumb-aft," howls Scrapper, "on arguably the simplest non-essential function for a mech to perform!"

"Aw, maybe we should help out," says Scavenger, his optic band glowing as he chuckles mischieviously.

"He'll kill us," says Long Haul.

A fork of lightning strikes near the Constructicons and the inert Shrapnel.

"So will this fragged weather," says Hook as he and the other Constructicons dodge the lightning; he moves Shrapnel to safety. "Where is Omega now?" he asks Scavenger.

"Orbiting Mercury," says Scavenger.

"We have Devastator to withstand Omega if it comes to blows," says Scrapper, "and we need to rule his confusion out as the source of these supercells and auroras."

"Then let's go," says Hook, a wry smile on his face. "What are friends for, after all?"

Laughing crudely, the Constructicons stabilize Shrapnel, then fly off.


Scene: 7

"I did not call them!" spits Spay-C.

"Acknowledged," says Omega, glaring at the Constructicons.

"Quit being a big tin pet," says Scavenger.

"You know you just need to unlock those protocols, old friend," sneers Hook.

"You had no right," seethes Omega.

"You had no right to try to factory-reset us either," counters Scrapper, contempt in his voice, "but we forgive you."

"You just had to obey fragged orders from the last Prime, that's all," adds Long Haul.

"I hate you," says Omega slowly, rage in his optics, "and everything connected to you."

"Likewise, buddy," says Bonecrusher, "but unless you want to have half the galaxy telling you the mechanics of how to frag a femme every single time you need to do it," he continues, "you'll access those programs."

"You have the programs," whispers Spay-C, "but they're behind a password lock."

"Correct," says Omega, sullen.

"You idiots inflicted trauma onto him," Spay-C hisses at the Constructicons. "Your presence just makes things worse."

"We ain't leavin' you alone with the giant Autobot subversive to collude," says Long Haul. "Without our supervision, this could be a Pact violation."

"This was not planned!" roar Spay-C and Omega in unison.


Scene: 8

In a bunk bed on the Blackbird, Jean wakes up; she looks around. Where's Scott...? she wonders silently as she stands, putting on Scott's spare T-shirt and a pair of her shorts.

Jean clutches her head. "I'm feeling intense anger...outrage. Humiliation," she breathes. From outside, in space...? she asks herself.

The Phoenix, says Jean, slipping on a pair of shoes and exiting the Blackbird; she steps onto the Starjammer's docking bay. It must be trying something else...

Jean looks outside the docking bay window. "Scott," she hisses aloud, "you impulsive idiot!"

An emanation of the Phoenix Force envelops Jean, forming her Phoenix costume; she teleports into the vacuum of space: approaching Omega, Spay-C, and the Constructicons.


Scene: 9

"I don't care if I'm wrong, Jean," says Scott, rubbing a developing bruise on his cheek. "It was them or you," he continues, "and they could take it."

"I was prepared to do what was needed," says Jean, narrowing her eyes at Scott.

"I wasn't!" counters Scott. "In another time and place, I wouldn't even have had a choice. "Omega and Spay-C's presence gave me an option to save you," says Scott, "so I took it."

Please forgive him, says Jean to Omega through her telepathy. Scott meant no real harm.

"Understood," says Omega through the commlink. "Scott: forgiven." He holds Spay-C close.

Spay-C sighs, stroking the back of Omega's helm.

"You should be grateful that the Constructicons arrived to take the beating I wanted to give you," says Jean.

Scott grins, rubbing the back of his head. "What can I say, except: 'I love you'?" he says to Jean.

Carly shakes her head. "Everyone wants to 'help people along'," she says, exasperated as she stares at Scott and Corsair, "without thinking if the people want that kind of help."

Graydon chuckles.

Scott gives Graydon a wry smile. "Since the real objective of Operation Gilgamesh is to get you and your organization to stand down, Mr. Creed," he says, "if you just back off, then the US and Canadian governments have no reason to care about your sex life."

"They never did," says Graydon, "because it wasn't their damned business."

"Let's just go home," sighs Carly. "Summer's almost over, and I want to get a head start on my classes."

"Carly: escort," says Omega, transforming as he releases Spay-C.

Street Heat carries Spay-C to an arriving Gobot shuttle.

"We'll escort Mr. Creed," says Sparky over the commlink.

"I don't think they're done with us yet," says Graydon in Carly's ear.

"Omega's got my back," says Carly, blushing slightly.


Scene: 10

"This is my significant other, Max," says Storm, staring up at Silverbolt.

"Who looks like Magneto, sounds like Magneto, and has the same EM field as Magneto even after you gave him the best frag he's ever had in his life," says Silverbolt, a skeptical-yet-amused smile on his face.

"Max Eisenhart," says Max, his voice tired. "I can understand the confusion: given that Magneto and I look alike and have the same expression of our mutant X-gene."

"Please cut the scrap, dude," says Air Raid, "or at least save it for your Brotherhood goons."

"They wouldn't fall for this," scoffs Skydive. "Hell, our intelligence says that Toynbee was trying to talk the other guys in your group out of any attempts to recruit Miss Munroe."

"'As if the Master would waste her power and potential on our ilk'," crows Slingshot. "That's how your frog-boy said it."

Toad, says Max silently, hiding a smile. "I'm in Brazil courting a passionate lover," he says aloud after a moment, revealing his smile as he strokes Storm's cheek, "while also assisting the Mossad in tracking down Nazis who need to be brought to justice. I'm using my own gift of magnetism for that purpose," he adds, "so how would I have time to carry on about mutant supremacy in a garish red supervillain costume that would be laughed at by every comic book publisher in the world?"

"He's dedicated to his kayfabe," says Fireflight.

Silverbolt sighs. "The magic you two were making together," he says, "was generating massive thunderstorm systems and multiple auroras all across Earth."

Storm trembles. "Was anyone hurt!?" she cries.

"One Decepticon," snorts Air Raid, "and it was just an Insecticon who got too close to your bug-zapper because he wanted energon."

"Even so..." says Storm, worried.

Max caresses Storm's bare shoulders. "Ororo," he purrs. "You can't be expected to contain yourself all the time. The earth bore us, and has the strength to withstand us."

"You are a demon, Max," sighs Storm, trembling at Max's touch.

"It's my pleasure to tempt you," says Max, licking Storm's earlobe, "and bring you the same delight you bring me."

Storm gently breaks her embrace with Max. "Still, I must go home now," she says, attempting to stand, "and confirm that people are safe." Storm stumbles, dropping to her knees.

"I'll fly you home, ma'am," says Silverbolt, transforming to his alt mode. "You're in no condition to move on your own power."

Max tosses a rose at Storm. "We should meet again," he says with a smile.

Storm catches the rose, a delighted smile on her face; she smells the rose as she gathers her clothing, then slowly boards Silverbolt.

Silverbolt takes off.

"You're staying here?" asks Skydive.

"I couldn't move or stand if I wanted to," sighs Max. "Ororo is bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh: made for me."

Air Raid pouts. "Look," he says. "Just 'pretend' to be Magneto, and make sure to order those Brotherhood morons to leave T'Challa alone."

"If they think I'm Magneto," says Max dourly, "then they're already attempting failed sieges of Wakanda and Avengers Mansion." He groans, annoyed, then drifts off to sleep.


Scene: 11

"You cannot make demands of the Majestrix!" fumes Gladiator as he moves to guard Lilandra from Leader One.

Leader One studies Gladiator a moment. "Kallark," he says, in awe. "It is you. You've grown so strong."

Gladiator stares at Leader One, wary. "Where did you get that name..!?" he asks.

"It's your name, you little Strontian runt," grins Leader One.

"Anyone would be a runt to metal giants," says Gladiator.

Leader One sighs. "You couldn't remember me," he says, chuckling. "You were only a small child then. I helped nurse you and your mother back to health: using the cure for that Wraith plague developed by your emperor at the time."

"My ancestor, the father of Majestor T'Korr," says Lilandra, touching Gladiator's shoulder as she moves to stand by Gladiator's side; she gazes up at Leader One. "According to our records," she continues, "we have refused any alliance with Gobotron."

"Your government," says Leader One, "had twice abducted natives from a planetary ally: Earth. First, Christopher and Katherine Summers, and recently: Graydon Creed and Carly Banas."

"The crimes of my brother, the late D'Ken Neramani: former Majestor of the Shi'ar Empire," says Lilandra; she scowls.

"You, as Majestrix-*" begins Leader One.

"I don't need to be lectured on the burdens of rule," says Lilandra curtly.

"Then you recognize that you bear responsibility for the actions of your forebears," says Leader One.

Lilandra closes her eyes, a grim frown on her face. "Gladiator, go," she says to Gladiator.

"My lady...?" asks Gladiator.

"I will address these matters of state with Leader One of Gobotron," says Lilandra, firm.

Gladiator bows. "Yes, Majestrix..." he says, glaring briefly at Leader One. He exits the room, leaving Lilandra alone with Leader One.

"So," says Lilandra, "one of your stature is serving as Earth's messenger."

"It's my honor," says Leader One, "to guide the people of Earth to their rightful place in the universe: as equal friends and allies."

"Only one person on Earth even knows what you're doing," counters Lilandra.

"Yes," says Leader One, calm, "and I spoke with Charles Francis Xavier before I came here. I also advised the governments of Earth-as Professor Xavier has no legal authority to speak on Earth's behalf," he continues, "of my intent to negotiate our peace agreement."

"Peace...through tyranny," says Lilandra.

"I've heard that one before: spoken openly-by a refreshingly-honest thug we both know," says Leader One; he gives Lilandra a mirthless smile.

Lilandra folds her arms, narrowing her eyes at Leader One.

"As 'tyranny' is a charge you're levelling against me," continues Leader One as his smile fades, "understand that from you, the current ruler of an empire built on blood, carnage, and deceit: your claim rings hollow."

"Is that the truth?" asks Lilandra.

"What do you know of freedom?" demands Leader One.

"I've sacrificed much," says Lilandra, fury in her eyes, "and suffered a great deal to overthrow my own mad brother: to free my people from his tyranny-*"

"Then take the next step," says Leader One, cool-yet-relentless, "and free them from yours."

Lilandra squares her shoulders.

"Or are you afraid...?" asks Leader One.

"Get out of my sight, Governor-general," says Lilandra, cold.

"I'll leave," says Leader One, "but recognize this fact. As the conflict's loser, you don't get to dictate any terms."

"What does that mean?" balks Lilandra.

"Ask Charles," says Leader One. He exits the room.


Scene: 12

"Director," asks Leader One, "has the political situation within the Shi'ar Empire been stabilized?"

"Correct, MR-25," reports MR-07. "Majestrix Lilandra is all that remains of the Neramani royal household."

"What about the firstborn, Cal'syee?" asks Leader One.

"Dead," says MR-07, "along with her Earthian consort, Vulcan."

"Earthian. Damn. Depending on which sector of Earth he hailed from," says Leader One, "we may have to answer for that."

"We will answer," says MR-07, "regardless of Vulcan's sector."

"I won't have the Earthians judging us," says Leader One; he scowls at a viewscreen. "So that's what Lilandra has chosen," he says inaudibly.

"We have consigned half a galaxy's people to cultural-and literal-genocide," says MR-07, "and killed a native of an allied world, because of the sins of the Neramani: one clan of rapacious madmen. We must face the judgment of Earth's people," he continues, "or we have no right to claim that the people of Gobotron have honor."

"That's something that my lieutenant senior would say," says Leader One, "out of love for Earth."

"For Earth and Gobotron, to preserve the friendship between our two worlds," says MR-07, "as Shichigorou believes that you, Governor-general, share that love. Is he wrong?" he asks, briefly adjusting his visor.

"You know that he's right, Director," says Leader One. "I won't betray his faith."


Scene: 13

"I could end your bullshit right now, Charlie," said Rogue, her voice low and menacing as she gave Xavier a thin smile, "by snapping your neck. Name one reason why I shouldn't."

"Do that..." said Xavier, his arms gripping Rogue's shoulder as he struggled to support his weight, "...and one of my other students will murder you in a blind rage: to send you down to hell with me."

"What you're doing is sick," spat Rogue.

"I'll do what I must," said Xavier, "to free my student from your power."

"Even if it means telepathically-*" began Rogue.

"Let her go, Carol," said Xavier, "and we can both walk away with clear consciences."

Rogue laughed, the tone bitter as she hurled Xavier to the couch; she rushed over to him, putting her hands around his neck after straddling Xavier's torso.

"You haven't killed me yet, Carol," said Xavier.

"I want to know why you're doing this," demanded Rogue.

"Free Rogue," said Xavier.

"The bitch stole my life," said Rogue. "This is the only way I can live-through the damn hayseed."

"Then you have to deal with my psychic perversions," said Xavier, a crude smile on his face as he moved his hand towards Rogue's cheek.

Rogue shook, then gripped Xavier's forearm: careful to avoid skin contact. "Professor, what the hell are you doin'!?" she shrieked.

"Giving you what you want," said Xavier, "more than anything."

"But you could die!" cried Rogue.

"I'd die happy," said Xavier. "Or you could let me play with your mind," he drawled, "where both of our physical limits are removed."

Confused as she considered Xavier's words, Rogue released Xavier's arm.

Xavier gripped Rogue's rear.

Fuming, Rogue trembled: restraining herself from striking Xavier with her bare hand.

"There are two ways either of you can stop this, ladies," said Xavier, continuing to massage Rogue's buttocks, "but both would bring Rogue's power into play."

"Quit thinking about your hard-up urges, hayseed-or about the fact that what's between his legs still works," hissed Rogue. "Slap him; you get stuck with his stupid mind-reading powers and memories for a while," she grunted, struggling to stifle a moan, "then get back to normal."

"You don't want my memories, Rogue," said Xavier. "Frankly, as wrong as it is," he added telepathically, "you'd much rather dry-hump me."

"What!?" balked Rogue.

"To hell with Danvers," purred Xavier mentally. "Let your teacher give you an orgasm."

Rogue stared blankly, her hips moving of their own accord: grinding against Xavier's.

Xavier grabbed Rogue's hips; he licked his lips, lust in his eyes.

"You sick fuck...!" Rogue roared; her body glowed with a golden aura, then light flooded from Rogue's mouth.

Ms. Marvel's astral aura formed from the light, leaving Rogue's body.

Rogue righted herself, tightening her thighs around Xavier's waist as she straddled Xavier. "S-she ain't wrong...!" she said, confusion and anger in her eyes.

"Results are all that matter," said Xavier through his mind. "Open your mind to me, Anna-Marie..." he hissed aloud.

Mystique said there'd be days like this... Rogue mused.

"A rare bit of honesty from her," said Xavier mentally. "You can damn her and me for this when we're done."

"Why the fuck did you do it?" demands Carol.

"I needed you out of Rogue's body," says Xavier.

Carol folds her arms. "Who put you up to it?" she asks, eyeing Xavier and two Autobots: Optimus and Smokescreen.

Smokescreen grins. "Guilty as charged," he says. "I had to open the professor's mind," he adds, "to new options he hadn't considered."

Xavier glares at Smokescreen, as does Optimus.

"It was the best way to pardon your mom for her desertion," says Smokescreen, "get you back on your feet and out of his student's mind, and free my people from Kree control."

"The Blue Kree elders bought one of 'your people' eons ago," says Carol.

"And had her-Patrona-'master molding' a bunch of sons and daughters to patrol Kree-run streets throughout your empire," says Smokescreen, "as they're all my make." He points to his Autobot insignia.

"Datsun C-5," says Carol.

"You and Xavier are both lucky that I made my detour when I saw that femme at casino row four cycles back," says Smokescreen, tossing a few casino chips.

"Monacus..." groans Optimus.

"Your 'transdimensional misadventure', Smokescreen," says Xavier, "involved your failure to recognize the number one rule of casino play."

Smokescreen pouts.

"'The house always wins'," continues Xavier, a wry smile on his face.

"We can't hammer that rathole because it's still under Decepticon control," says Carol.

"The Beta Cygnus II Pact," snorts Smokescreen. "It's the gift that keeps giving us scrap."

"None of this explains Xavier being a perverted fuck," continues Carol.

Xavier's smile widens, irritation in his eyes. "Can you really blame me!?" he sneers. "It worked so well for Nate Richards, after all...or your son with him: Marcus..!?"

"Professor!" thunders Beast. "That was out of line," he adds, his voice lowering as he struggles to keep his temper in check.

"Did Rogue mention anything, Hank?" asks Xavier coolly.

"That doesn't matter," says Beast. "I have no reason to doubt Carol."

"Rogue had been wrestling with Captain Danvers' trauma for years," says Xavier.

"So you, with advice from this Autobot," says Beast, nodding towards Smokescreen, "unilaterally decided to replace that trauma with the knowledge that the man she trusted as a teacher and mentor is-*"

"A man, Henry," says Xavier.

"A male," says Beast. "A man would never do what you did-to either of them."

"This was 'the straw', then," says Xavier.

"I'd return my uniform, Professor," says Beast, "but we have public decency laws in New York State: in case you need a reminder."

Xavier tenses his fists.

"I'm getting my things, and I'm going to leave," says Beast. He enters the mansion.

"What do you think, Optimus Prime?" asks Carol.

Optimus gazes at Carol. "That Professor Xavier made a selfishly-motivated command decision," he says, calm, "that would nonetheless acheive desired outcomes for his team, his subset of people, and maintain positive relations between Cybertron, Gobotron, and Earth."

"How do you feel?" asks Carol.

"My feelings on this are immaterial," says Optimus, "and I unload those on Smokescreen."

"Carol," says Smokescreen, "we're in the middle of a war. 'Shit happens', as Earthlings in this sector say," he continues, "and your Empire is easily-capable of worse to its soldiers."

Carol studies Smokescreen a moment, then smiles. "At least you didn't say 'men'," she says. "I hate the idea of men being expendable just as much as the idea of women being weak."

"Steven..." mutters Xavier, touching his chin.

"That said," continues Carol, to Xavier, "you're a perverted fuck who needs to leave that crazy jackass Creed alone before he loses what's left of his mind."

"Danvers," says Xavier, "it became too late for that five years ago."

"Look," says Carol, "he's a bigoted asshole to mutants: but he's our asshole. We don't want him turning to Megatron."

Or turning into Megatron, muses Optimus, if Ratchet's diagnostics are correct...


Scene: 14

Beast sighs, sitting on the steps of the Avengers Mansion. He sips a cup of tea.

"Scones or biscuits, Master Henry?" asks Jarvis.

"Biscuits," says Beast. "The lemon creme and fruit-filled ones, please."

"As I thought," says Jarvis, handing Beast a plate of cookies. "Thank you for calling them 'biscuits', sir."

"I caught myself," grins Beast.

Jarvis gazes at Beast. "If I may, Master Henry," he asks, "what's on your mind?"

Beast's smile fades. "Old friends..." he says, rubbing a business card.

Stark opens the door to the Mansion.

Jarvis stands to attention. "I suspect that Master Anthony-*" he begins.

"You're right, Edwin," says Stark, a crude smile on his face, "so save it. Dr. Hank and I need to talk."

"I'll go upstairs, then," says Jarvis; he enters the Mansion.

"I don't think that Creed wants to woo me back," says Beast. "I'm a 'lost cause', you see," he adds wryly, displaying himself.

"If you're angry at Xavier for being a manipulative bastard, that's fine," says Stark. "And while I'll admit that I'm no better," he continues, noting Beast's dour expression, "I'm not going to pretend that it's for any 'greater good'. I miss you here at the Avengers, and so does Reed."

"Everything's been different with the Avengers since Carol left us," says Beast. "Most of it for the better: changes that should've happened well-before the Incredible Growing Baby-Husband."

Stark nods.

"Instead of working through it, I went back to the School-like a child!" fumes Beast.

"You were still a kid," snorts Stark. "You weren't even in grad school yet: just a wet-nosed undergrad getting his Bachelor's."

"Being with Scott and Jean again, and meeting the new students," sighs Beast. "Especially Ororo: I have so much respect for her."

"They're friends-no, family," says Stark. "A family that chose you."

"With a father-figure that chose me a bit too strongly," says Beast, wary. "Also, I'm well-aware that he, you, Namor, Dr. Richards, and Dr. Strange are all part of a secret club."

Not much of a secret if it got out to you, Hank, Stark says to himself.

"Don't get ahead of yourselves," warns Beast. "We're already in the crossfire of an alien civil war that's been ongoing since before the dawn of human history, you know."

"We barely-avoided an invasion by bog-standard aliens: the Shi'ar-who thankfully forgot they were at war with the Kree," says Stark.

"Who are not only our allies, but the Gobots' allies," says Beast. "We owe our alliance with the Kree to Carol."

"With everything that's going on: especially the Shi'ar Empire's collapse," says Stark, "we needed to bring Carol out of it."

"'No more crap'," says Beast.

Stark shakes his head. "'No more bullshit'," he says. "She laid us out so hard that the Captain's only words..."

"'I have nothing more to add'," says Beast, "'as Captain Danvers dressed us down perfectly'."

"I just hope Walker doesn't goad Steve into thawing Burnside out for a American threesome," quips Stark.

"Captains Rogers and Walker are both behind you, Mr. Stark," says Beast.

"Stark," says Walker, "the idea of that would kill Burnside, and as for Cap..." He turns to Rogers.

Rogers continues rapidly chanting as he performs multiple signs of the Cross. "...cogitatione, verbo et opere: mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa...!" he pants, continuing his chant.

Walker and Beast stare at Rogers for several minutes.

"How many God-damned times do you plan to recite the Confiteor, Steve!?" demands Stark, gripping Rogers' shoulders as Rogers restarts another round of the Confiteor.

"As many times as you continue blaspheming God, Mr. Stark," says Beast wryly.

Walker snickers.

"Father, forgive me," says Stark, "for I know what I do." He kisses Rogers.

Rogers breaks the kiss. "Just be grateful, Anthony Stark," he says, annoyed, "that I don't presume to act on behalf of God."

"Cap," says Stark, sticking out his tongue, "it was a joke that I probably took too far."

Beast laughs.

"I love you, too," says Rogers, wiping his lips, "yet I'd prefer to seek a proper missing rib."

"I want a whole world," says Stark, "where people like Burnside and Creed can learn to be comfortable in their own skin."

Burnside altered his skin to look like my skin," says Rogers.

"Our lives are all fucked even without the Cybertronians," says Walker.

"We'll need to help Creed settle his shit," says Stark. "I'd say a stiff drink."

"No," say the others.

"For Creed, not for me," snorts Stark. "AA meetings are held next door to my bedroom," he adds. "Pepper and Rhodey are not subtle."

"Good," says Walker, "because neither are you."


Scene: 15

"I don't know if I loved her," says Xavier quietly. "I cared for Lilandra as a person, Katherine," he continues, "but my first consideration was for Earth, and our need for Shi'ar technology to allow us to fight the Decepticons on our own terms."

"That's cold," says Kitty. "But then, Bobby always complained that you were like that: calculating, like you're moving pieces in a game."

"Pawns..." Xavier sighs. "It's easier that way. Otherwise, I'd lose my mind," he continues, "and be the very threat that Creed claims I am...and he's not wrong to fear me."

"You're not a mutant supremacist like Magneto..." begins Kitty.

"Charles," grins Xavier.

Kitty blinks.

"You're an adult," continues Xavier, gently touching Kitty's cheek, "and-in violation of everything I know about teacher and student dynamics: I've treated you like one."

"At least you've satisfied my curiosity," quips Kitty, "about whether everything works." She winks at Xavier.

Xavier pouts, then kisses Kitty.


Scene: 16

"Please, again..." sighs an alien with gray-green skin. "I, the last of my people, want to witness our victory: our revenge."

Slag stares at the alien, disturbed. "Me Slag love to see enemy smashed-even when them smash themselves," he says, "but this am bad."

"Shi'ar hurt them," says Grimlock. "Him call himself, 'Elder of Scy'ar Tal'."

The alien-the Elder-laughs. "No, Cybertronian child," he says. "With the Shi'ar vanquished," the Elder continues, "I may die fulfilled; we, the M'Kraan: servants of the holy god, live to see our enemy vanquished."

"There am only one of you," wonders Snarl.

"One, is all," says the Elder.

"The Aerie," says Nanatsuro, "once belonged to them, until about twelve K-cycles ago."

"We once seized it from others: in the same way the Shi'ar did," says the Elder. "We as a people make no pretense to righteousness."

"I'm not losing sleep over the Shi'ar," says Newcastle, "but their imperial subject planets throughout their part of that galaxy..."

"You, the people of Earth, are innocent and blameless," says the Elder.

"Only because we're too busy thinking of new ways to kill each other most of the time," whispers Matt, glancing Graydon and Max.

"Two different extremes, meeting together," adds A. J., shaking her head.

Graydon winces, a pensive look in his eyes. Max touches his chin, lost in thought.

"I'd like to be sure," says Storm, looking briefly at Max, "that there are no survivors on those worlds that we would otherwise displace."

Max chuckles. "That would be your way, Ororo," he says.

"We are not conquerors," says Storm.

"Not this time," says Max. "Understand," he says, standing. "I speak as a disgraceful member of a displaced people, who were brought back to their promised land-only for their ancestral home to be immediately-besieged by other peoples: most of whom lived there in good faith."

Graydon looks up at Max; his expression darkens.

"I simply assert," continues Max, "that it's delusion for losers to dictate terms to the winners: vae victus, so to speak."

"They didn't lose to us," says Graydon, "but to the Shi'ar: the ones we defeated."

The Elder sighs with delight.

"He'll be doing that every time you mention the Shi'ar Empire's fall," says Nanatsuro. "The man's elated."

"What are your plans, Eisenhart?" asks Graydon.

"To become part of an expeditionary group to the new worlds," says Max, "as whatever you and others like you may think, I am just as native to Earth as you are."

"That was never in doubt. What's in question is whether it will be a mutant paradise," says Graydon.

"No," says Max, "but for all on Earth born to the name 'human'. I've been speaking with Latveria's ruler, and he's excited."

"Dr. Doom!?" balk Storm and Graydon; they both look at each other in surprise before staring back at Max.

"Men like Doom want a challenge," grins Max. "He'll apply what he's learned to serve the Latverian people here on Earth, and create new cities."

"And build a few death rays," mutters Graydon, "pointed at the Baxter Building and Avengers Mansion."

"That will cost Doom-and Latveria-time, resources, and money," says Tux, twirling his cane.

Graydon lets out an irritated sigh.


Scene: 17

Nightcrawler stares into a mirror...at his own-yet unfamiliar-reflection; he fiddles with a gold medallion.

Larry Trask, a dark-haired young man, beams. "It works!" he crows, snapping a photo on an instant camera. "I've got the 'before' and 'after' pictures."

"I see," says Nightcrawler, staring at his now-pale skin. "This suppresses my mutant abilities; I'm a 'normal' man."

"More-or-less," says Larry. "My dad designed it originally," he adds, "to mask the X-gene in mutants."

"Including yours, Lawrence," says Xavier.

Larry frowns at Xavier. "Some of us can see a future without the X-gene tripping us up," he says.

"So you see no future for people with physical impairments?" asks Xavier.

"You'd have to find something more constructive to do with your time," says Larry, "than playing chess with other people's lives."

"What is your end in this?" asks Xavier.

"To create an alternative to the Sentinels: who could fall under the Decepticons' control," says Larry, "and eliminate the X-gene with technology: if mutants choose to. Thus, we can prevent mutants from falling under Megatron's control."

"There's something deeper here," says Xavier. "Try not to think about what you foresaw in the shower this morning."

Larry grins. "I'm not that easy, Professor," he says, "and in spite of what you may think, my father's not a fool. This medallion is waterproof," he continues, presenting his own medallion.

"So you can honestly say that you foresaw nothing this morning," says Xavier, "because you almost never take your medallion off."

Larry nods.

"Then it won't matter if you let me examine your medallion a moment," drawls Xavier.

Trask barges into the living room of the Institute. "Lawrence," he says, gripping Larry's shoulder, "we're leaving."

"I'm just promoting my project, Dad," says Larry, "based on your work. I wanted it-*"

"To be a surprise," says Trask; he smiles, noting the altered Nightcrawler. "Your results are promising, son," he continues, "and we can discuss them at home."

"I understand," says Larry. "I guess you don't want to keep yours: right, Mr. Wagner?"

"You've read my mind," says Nightcrawler, taking off his medallion; his body reverts to normal.

Larry winces, glancing at Kitty. "You'd really be a ladies' man," he says.

"I'd be living a lie," says Nightcrawler. "I already look like a demon," he continues, "so I have no plans to live like one."

"Please, for the sake of the people you love," says Larry earnestly, handing Nightcrawler some business cards, "call me if you change your mind. It's an honest, fair answer for everyone." He and Trask walk away, exiting the Institute.

"What was that about from Mr. Trask?" asks Kitty, annoyed.

There's truth in Lawrence's words, muses Xavier, lacing his fingers together. Hank has told me as much. He studies an older photo of Beast: in uniform with Scott.


Scene: 18

Annoyed, Slingshot enters Smokescreen's quarters. "Reporting for my monthly 'psych eval' check," he sneers as he sits across from Smokescreen.

"You need it, my guy," says Smokescreen, calm. "Everyone here does," he adds almost to himself.

"What's your deal, Smokescreen?" asks Slingshot, folding his arms.

Smokescreen grins, looking at Slingshot.

"You don't want to be here, do you?" fumes Slingshot.

"You're right," says Smokescreen, "I don't."

Slingshot stares at Smokescreen. "You've been conscripted...?" he asks after a moment.

"Unintentionally, to be fair to the arresting local INGALAPOL officers at the time," says Smokescreen.

Slingshot adjusts his visor, confused.

"I'm a shady guy. Nothing too serious," says Smokescreen, "but somewhere on Swindle's level of chicanery."

"So you wouldn't intentionally sell off your own unit, then," says Slingshot.

"Optimus alone is worth way more on the open black market than what Bosch had planned to sell him for," scoffs Smokescreen. "He's a big, well-maintained, top-of-the-line Freight Hauler modded for military conflict."

"So you obviously had to get Optimus and the others free because they were worth more credits?" asks Slingshot.

"Yeah," says Smokescreen, "to say nothing of the fact that despite my temperament, I am an Autobot, and I do like you guys."

"You're probably a 'classical' Autobot," snorts Slingshot.

"Like you, and my dear cousin Barricade," says Smokescreen. "We don't follow blind, but think for ourselves."

"I don't get you," says Slingshot.

"My goal is twofold: to keep everyone on our side that I come in contact with honest about themselves-and with themselves," says Smokescreen, "and to win this fragpile of a war so that I can get back to my life."

"You include yourself in that scrap, chief?" asks Slingshot.

"Sure," says Smokescreen. "I just don't have the need to share my internal issues, because they don't impact the Autobot war effort. You, my friend," he continues, "don't have that luxury."

Slingshot squares his shoulders.

"So, then," Smokescreen continues, "I'll shoot the same question back at you, Slingshot. What's your deal?"

"I want to win the fraggin' war too!" fumes Slingshot. "And if we could stop wasting time discussing our feelings and catering to each other's feelings: treat our outfit like a military unit," he continues, "we'd be in a better position to punish Megatron."

"If you die, Slingshot, because of your unaddressed 'feelings'," counters Smokescreen, "our military unit: loses a valued and skilled individual soldier, loses a gestalt-a high value military asset, and compromises four other soldiers who have to adjust to your loss because losing you is like losing a huge piece of themselves."

"Then maybe the brass shouldn't have parked LAN plugs into the five of us without our consent," says Slingshot. "See, I'm glad to be here: fighting, but I never agreed to be linked to the likes of Air Raid, Fireflight, and Silverbolt for the rest of my life."

"Skydive's okay, though?" asks Smokescreen.

"No," says Slingshot, "but he's the least-annoying, so I give him a pass."

"Air Raid and Fireflight aren't serious problems for you," says Smokescreen. "Silverbolt's the big issue."

"Silverbolt's a fraggin' headcase who's scared of heights," says Slingshot, "and he's way too attached to me."

"I agree that he's coming on too strong," says Smokescreen, "but it's inline with getting you fully-integrated with your unit."

"Frag off! None of his scrap is Arwing programming!" spits Slingshot. "I've been around too many Arwings-and have fought too many Arwings," he continues, "to ever believe that!"

"Example?" asks Smokescreen, writing in a datapad.

"Okay, guy: write this down," says Slingshot, standing. "There are zero incidents of Starscream constantly nagging any of his guys in the Decepticon Battle Fleet to enter a binary bond, or luring any of his legions of Arwing subordinates to his berth. Zero."

"Starscream's a native Class One with Class Five-that's your make, Slingshot-programming from his creator being a modded Class Five," says Smokescreen. "Skywarp wants Small Foot to be his bondmate."

"As ground vehicle types go," says Slingshot, "she's cute, so I don't blame him. Helps that she can still fly."

"Yeah; Skywarp has great taste," says Smokescreen.

"You're not getting on my case about not hating the enemy enough?" asks Slingshot.

"My cousin's a fraggin' Decepticon sympathizer," says Smokescreen, "and lately: because Megatron's a sick, evil frag, Barry's starting to be more of our reluctant inside mech."

Slingshot sighs.

"We only have one bigoted idiot in this outfit," says Smokescreen. "Everyone else with a chip on their shoulders about fliers is willing to live in peace with the Decepticons when the war ends," he adds, "because we don't want to repeat the post-bellum mistakes from the Second War that created this one."

"The Decepticons are our enemies," says Slingshot, "but also Cybertronians. Worse, I have more in common with our enemies than with you kludgeheads," he adds with a grin.

"Like Professor X," says Smokescreen, "you tend to push down what you feel and focus on 'the mission'."

"Professor Xavier's mission is for mutants to live in harmony with other humans," says Slingshot. "If other humans could just accept that mutants are just as human as they are," he continues, "and work with them to help them control their powers rather than being scared of them, Earth would be in a much better position, and they wouldn't be wasting time trying to build giant, slow robot builds to rampage through their cities trying to hunt down mutants: complete with a frag-ton of false positives because all humans on this planet have the X-gene."

"And even if it's inert normally," says Smokescreen, "it can activate under stress or if it's externally activated in response to chemical or radioactive exposure. The problem that I've made it my mission to make Xavier face," he continues, "is that people like Creed, Stryker, and Hodge know damned well that mutants are human: and given that humans throughout the galaxy, including these sweet ones here on Earth, can be bastards..."

"...they have every right to be afraid," finishes Slingshot, "especially of Xavier: who's basically a human Soundwave."

Smokescreen shivers. "That explains Dr. McCoy's attitude. Xavier's worse than Soundwave in that regard," he continues, "because people actually trust Xavier, so anyone who's rightly on edge around him feels gaslit."

Slingshot shakes his head.

"Creed's problems are basic unaddressed abandonment issues related to his mother," continues Smokescreen, "along with a sense of 'power corrupts'."

"An Earth adage," says Slingshot, "that only works if you're already corrupt."

"We're all corrupt on some level," says Smokescreen. "It's a drawback of sapience."

"More fraggin' Earth trivia's just popping into my mind!" says Slingshot. "This time it's that Garden of Eden story that's supposed to have taken place somewhere near Iraq," he continues, "but every version of that story I've heard keeps mentioning apples-which don't grow there."

"The actual story never mentioned 'apples'," says Smokescreen, "only 'fruit'."

Slingshot sits back down, exasperated. "You'd think Earth humans would keep their mythology straight," he says. "No wonder they're confused about religion."

"In spite of all of that scrap," says Smokescreen, "it's a solid narrative. It's a myth about humans choosing between life or knowledge," he continues. "According to the story, the humans here chose knowledge."

"Only to then try to stamp down and drown out all of that knowledge," says Slingshot.

"Humans on Earth are painfully self-aware of their own capacity for evil," says Smokescreen, "and it scares them. Yet," he continues, smiling, "they also have the courage to confront their fear every once in a while, which keeps these Earthians as effective saints compared to the rest of the universe. Xavier's beating the shit out of himself right now, and his X-Men are ready to pile on."

"Especially Rogue," says Slingshot.

"She's Grizabella in human form," says Smokescreen, "an untouchable beauty. All I did was point out to Xavier," he continues, "that he could touch her in ways no one else could, and..."

"...she'd go along with anything Xavier wanted just to get the sense of being touched," says Slingshot. "A part of me's with Creed-the way he was originally, not what he stomps around with now. Find a cure to shut off the X-gene. Humans have enough problems."

"That X-gene will switch right back on," says Smokescreen. "It's not a virus or bacterium," he adds, "but a genetic trait that all Earth humans have: making them very attractive to other humans in the Milky Way alone, as it's a rare trait in the universe."


Scene: 19

"'Naked, and not ashamed'," grins Beast, fiddling with a medallion around his neck as he looks down at his normal-appearing body. "That's the blessed gift that Professor Xavier gave me," he adds.

"Along with an ability to read my mind, apparently...Henry," says Graydon, bewildered.

"Why haven't you tried out Larry's medal?" asks 'Henry', picking up his uniform trunks: now too-oversized to fit his waist.

"It won't work for me," says Graydon. He smiles, then laughs bitterly.

"Your X-gene is doing its job," says Henry, realization in his eyes. "You've figured it out, haven't you?"

"For a while now," says Graydon. "It finally clicked: what Carly was trying to hint at. Were I thinking," he adds, "I could've convinced Larry's father to mass-produce these years ago-in different colors, to avoid negative connotations."

"And draw the ire of Red Helmet: master of all magnets," quips Henry, "on behalf of his first people."

"Those people have suffered enough: from the Nazis and from association with the likes of Magneto-who was also a tool of the fucking Nazis," sneers Graydon.

"He'd never relinquish his power to make a planet's entire magnetosphere his toy," says Henry. "No man would."

"'Power tends to corrupt'-and if humans are nothing else, we're the most easily-corruptible pieces-of-shit in the universe," says Graydon, "'and absolute power corrupts absolutely'."

"Only those who are already corrupt," says Henry, "as you said."

Graydon grips Henry's shoulders. "We're all fucking corrupt!" he cries. "Humans: normal people, mutants, all of us! We are damned!"

"Careful," snorts Henry. "You're sounding like Stryker."

"Fuck Stryker! Fuck Hodge! Fuck me!" roars Graydon. "Actually, don't fuck me-because I'll spread my mutant X-AIDS to innocent people!"

"At least they'd still be able to wake up each morning," says Henry quietly. "Your adoptive sister would kill for your expression of 'X-HIV'-the correct term for the disease you're equating our genetic trait to."

"You're literally wearing a cure, doctor," groans Graydon, slumping to the ground: a morose expression on his face. "Dr. Trask would get you some clothes, and you could walk the streets as a man for the first time in years."

"This isn't a cure," says Henry. "This is a lie."

Graydon winces at Henry.

"Dr. Trask made good use of my work to protect his son," continues Henry, "so that Larry could 'mask' his active X-gene. You mask what you want to hide: what you're ashamed to show."

"You're about to talk about streaking through the streets of Manhattan," chuckles Graydon, shaking his head.

"Only public indecency statutes keep me indoors, my Friend," says Henry.

"If you take off that medallion," says Graydon, "I'd have to call you 'Harry'."

"I am free of shame, Graydon," says Henry, "and mutants should all be free of shame: because we've done no wrong."

Dr. Trask enters the lab, glances at Henry, smiles at the medallion, then presents Henry with a set of folders as his smile fades, studying Graydon.

"Mutant existence is wrong," says Graydon tonelessly, no malice in his voice.

Henry sighs softly.

"And in order to be human, I have to be wrong!" Graydon cries, struggling to hold back tears. "If I don't, I'll turn into a fucking robot-a spy for Megatron."

"You'd be an extension of Megatron: a piece of him," says Dr. Trask. "For what it's worth," he continues, "had I known of your condition when you approached me to back the Sentinel program, I would gladly have given you a medallion-and mass-produced it, because it would print on-the-books funding that I don't have to explain to the IRS."

"And our military would point the Sentinels at the likes of 'Red Helmet'-except that might not be necessary," says Graydon, regaining composure. "Lehnsherr-pulling a bad 'Clark Kent' act under the name 'Eisenhart'," he adds, "wants to go space exploring in our new territory with Dr. Doom."

"Believe it or not, that would be a good day," says Henry, "as long as these medallions are optional. It could make us 'Transformers'," he adds with a sly smile."

"That sounds like a solution Ron would cook up," scoffs Graydon, "one that's not even open to me."

"It's just a matter of getting Megatron's nanites out of your system," says Trask, "though the nanites have made enough progress that-if your X-gene expresses as a healing factor-it will kill you in the process of purging Megatron out of you."

Graydon glares at the ground.

"You've been fighting your body for decades," says Henry. "You need another mutant with a healing factor to donate their blood to you."

"AB negative," says Graydon. "The 'universal leech'."

"Another self-loathing tendency you share with Anna-Marie," says Henry. "I want to sit, but there are only metal folding chairs in here, and it's cold."

Trask hands Henry a housecoat.

Henry dons the housecoat. "Thank you, Dr. Trask," he says; Henry sits, then crouches onto the chair.

Trask and Graydon blink at Henry.

"I feel almost like myself again," says Henry absently, as if to himself. "Two donors pretty-much slap me in the face," he continues. "One's an ideal donor: being a near-perfect genetic match with blood type A, and the other has donated his O-positive blood before."

"Mr. O-Positive would eviscerate me and you for our trouble," says Graydon, "and I shot my 'ideal genetic match' in the face, then threw hard spirits at his exposed flesh when the sorry bastard wouldn't die."

"In fairness to you," says Henry, "the elder Creed was threatening to assault Miss Banas if you didn't get on with making his grandson."


Scene: 20

"You know how 'gentlemen prefer blondes'?" asks Skydive as he and Graydon watch Carly repair Tracks.

"All men prefer blondes. Or redheads, or brunettes, or raven-haired red-skinned beauties, or black women," says Graydon, annoyed. "Don't think that I can't get your facile point about genetics."

"If you want peace for Earth, and I think you do," says Skydive, "then you're going to have to accept the X-gene, and adapt to it the way your kind has adapted to everything else the planet has thrown at you."

"Why?" asks Graydon. "We try to screen for other genetic aberrations."

"And those keep coming up anyway, too," says Skydive. "Your species still has: male pattern baldness, left-handedness, sickle cell anemia, lactose intolerance, and Tay-Sachs. The X-gene is no different."

"The X-gene can kill people," says Graydon.

"And every Earthian has the X-gene," says Skydive. "All that your bigotry has done is ensure that it will never go away."

"Fuck natural selection," says Graydon, scratching his skin. "We were never meant to have maladaptive shit like the X-gene in our blood. Otherwise, considering that we and other primates share a common ancestor," he continues, "where are the flying monkeys?"

Skydive presents a mirror. "Behold: a combo of your high intelligence and resulting advanced tool usage," he says. "You've been to your moon!"

"Only that freak job Worthington has actual wings-an extra pair of modified feathered arms springing out of his back," sneers Graydon. "Hodge's involvement in our cause was only because of his stupid jealousy of the idiot."

"'Was'...?" wonders Skydive.

"Back when Hodge was human," says Graydon; he scratches at his skin again.

Skydive touches his chin. "I'll ignore your reenactment of the plot of Invasion of the Body Snatchers," he says after a moment, "and just assert that to a monkey, lemur, gorilla, and chimpanzee: you Homo-types are the mutants."

"'Humans are mutants'!?" balks Graydon.

Carly laughs. "I'm lame, then," she says. "Where are my superpowers!?"

"You should be thankful that you don't have them!" snorts Graydon.

"Yeah," says Carly, sitting on Tracks' hood, "or I'd have to deal not only with the Decepticons, but giant robots that Dr. Trask built demanding that I 'surrender, mutant'."

"Watch the chrome, Carly," says Tracks, still in his alt mode.

"Sorry," says Carly, gently patting Tracks' hood.

"Worse," says Graydon, "the Sentinels you're referring to would not only come after the two of us, but Sam, Adam, Chris-who isn't a psychic freak like Xavier, and Ron."

"Especially if Trask finishes that AI he wants to work on," says Carly. "SKYNET would become real, and presuming the AI actually watched The Terminator, it wouldn't make SKYNET's mistakes."

"Master Mold's connectivity: on our pathetic forty-five megabits-per-second networks and copper wire telephone lines, would be too shit to pull off what SKYNET did," says Graydon. "That's why Trask isn't worried about the robot takeover from the Sentinels-even if the AI jumps to Skydive's crazy conclusions."

"Megatron's trying to take you and the other anti-mutant leaders over," says Carly, folding her arms, "turning you all into robot drones from the inside out."

"Megatron wouldn't have thought to do this on his own," says Graydon. "He despises organic sapients for the same reason that a Sherman tank would if it were sapient: as we and other organic sapients are species of enslavers who once left his kind-military hardware-to rust, or smelted them when we were done using them."

"Then," asks Carly, touching her chin, "who would've convinced him to try hijacking your bodies?"

"A human who just wants to watch everything burn..." says Graydon, quiet. "A real traitor to his own kind: even more than self-serving opportunistic fucks like Berger."

"Who are you thinking about...?" asks Skydive.

"A man who Carly and I both know," says Graydon, grim, "as 'John Smith'."

Carly winces, shuddering; she glares at her skin. "You're not the only person who wants to bleed out their bloodline," she says. "Can I have your parents?"

"You want the man who threatened to fuck you if I didn't," grins Graydon, "and the woman who could pull a cock out of her cunt to fuck you herself."

"You mock," says Skydive, "but their genes are the main reason you're not a clone of Megatron."

"Shut up. I just want to be normal," groans Graydon. "Why can't I be normal?"

"Because you're human," says Tracks, "and 'normal' doesn't exist for any of you."

"Watch yourself," says Carly, brandishing a wrench as she stands, "or I'll transform you into a toaster."

Tracks transforms. "I'd like to see you try it, glitch," he says with a thin smile.

"That's impolite, and stupid," says Graydon. "Never piss off your mechanic."


Scene: 21

"You want to negotiate with me, Cybertronian?" asks Thanos, a skeptical smile on his lips.

"Affirmative," states Omega. "Protect Earth. Protect friends. Protect offspring." He glances at Spay-C.

"Truly," drawls Thanos, "you are an exemplar of your Guardian Sentinel programming, Omega Supreme. Yes, I am aware. My people have known of Cybertron for some time."

Omega narrows his optics; he lifts his right arm, engaging his onboard cannon.

"You intend to kill me if I don't comply?" muses Thanos. "That'd be wonderful."

Spay-C shakes her head.

"I long for a magnificent lady," says Thanos. "I would-and have-killed for her," he continues, "but it's not enough."

"Identify: lady," says Omega, disengaging the cannon.

"Death." Thanos gazes at Omega.

Omega grins. "Solution: self-termination," he says.

Thanos blinks. "What...?"

"Kill yourself," continues Omega.

"How?" asks Thanos.

"Means available." Omega points at a gem-adorned golden glove.

"Oh," says Thanos. "I'd be cheating my lady."

"You are immortal," says Spay-C, "likely a means for the object of your desires to keep you away from her: as you cannot die."

"Killing myself with the Infinity Gauntlet," says Thanos, waving towards the glove, "would annoy Lady Death. My soul is hardly enough to prove my devotion to her."

"Soul: heroic," says Omega. "Death: honorable."

Thanos touches his chin briefly, then closes his eyes: in a trance.

Omega and Spay-C study Thanos, glancing at each other.

Thanos stands, dons the Infinity Gauntlet, then snaps his Gauntleted fingers...causing himself, Omega, and Spay-C to vanish.

END SPECIAL EIGHT