TRANSFORMERS: CYBERTRON SAGA
NOBLE DEMON Special #9: Fear and Loathing.
byline: Anubis C. Soundwave

Scene: 1

Walker holds Carly's mother, the woman sobbing. "It's okay, Ms. Banas," he says. "I know your daughter's fine."

"She's at Autobot Headquarters," adds Rogers.

"But she's going to New York City," sputters Banas. "To face him."

"She has to: so she can properly spit in his face, ma'am," says Walker.

"That man's a monster: inhuman," says Banas.

"We've met some inhumans," says Rogers, smiling.

"Not your mute friend Mr. Boltagon," says Banas. "Smith's physically human like you and me, but if you look into his eyes," she continues, "a void looks back at you."

Rogers' smile fades; he trembles. "An abyss..." he whispers, closing his eyes.

"Most guys like that are just cowards," says Walker. "They shrink in the light of day."

"Most of them aren't John Smith," says Banas bitterly, tears falling down her cheeks. "That old man would scare Hitler."

"Oh, shit..." breathes Walker, looking at Rogers.

Rogers' eyes snap open. "There's only one man on Earth," he says, "who could scare Hitler."

Captain America and Fury entered a windowless hotel room with Rommel: guarded by SS troops.

"Herr Rommel," said a figure quietly in German, fiddling with an uneaten salad, "Sie können gehen."

"Ja, mein Fuehrer," said Rommel, worry in his eyes. He left the hotel room.

"Kommen wir zur Sache, Adolf," said Fury. "Du bist ohne Paddel am Scheißbach-was, wie ich weiß, ein amerikanischer Ausdruck ist," he continued, "falls du uns tatsächlich um Hilfe gerufen hast."

The figure, Adolf Hitler, nodded. "Sie haben Recht, Herr Fury," he said. "Wir werden in der Tat zum Punkt kommen. Ich brauche diesen Mann: Johann Shmidt, tot. Ihr Agenten der Alliierten wollen ihn tot sehen. Ich kann ihn dir liefern."

"Ist das eine Art Trick?" asked Captain America. "Du erwartest wirklich, dass wir glauben, dass du deine rechte Hand tot sehen willst?"

"Ich glaube an das, was ich geschrieben habe, Herr Rogers," said Hitler, a trace of his public persona in his voice.

Captain America calmed himself, briefly tensing his fists.

"Kümmern Sie sich nicht um die Verschleierung, Herr Rogers," continued Hitler. "Shmidt und Agent X: Frau Glass waren beide sehr erfahrene Spione. Ihr Geburtstag ist der 144 Jahrestag der Abspaltung Ihres Landes vom britischen Empire," he added with a small, sheepish smile, "und somit sind Sie ein Mann, dessen Kuchen und Geschenke Wunderkerzen enthalten könnten."

"Wenn ich Private Rogers wäre," said Captain America, cool, "würde ich keine Witze von Ihrer Sorte mögen."

Hitler stood. "So wie Sie Amerika schützen wollen, möchte ich Deutschland schützen: ganz zu schweigen von meiner Heimat Österreich," he said, "und dem Rest des weißen Europas."

"Sie stellen also fest, dass Sie ein menschliches Monster entfesselt haben, das noch bösartiger ist als Sie, Herr Hitler," said Captain America, "und dass Sie zu feige sind, ihn selbst zu töten."

"Herr Shmidt," said Hitler, "ist nicht das, was ich mir als Ihren Erzfeind vorgestellt hatte: ein Patriot für das Dritte Reich und Herrenmensch. Vielmehr," he continued, trembling, "ist er eine Kreatur des reinen Hasses auf die gesamte Menschheit."

Captain America glared at Hitler, then struck Hitler with the back of his fist. "Sergeant," he said to Fury in English, "let's go. We've wasted enough time here."

Fury shook his head. "Yes, sir," he said. He exited the hotel room with Captain America.


Scene: 2

"Hold it," says Graydon, his expression cross. "What are you going to do?"

"Call Smith out for his crap," says Carly. "He-just by being himself-destroyed my mom's life," she continues, "and I'm tarred with his 'taint' by association."

"You're not a Nazi," says Graydon, "and you're definitely not a rapist. At your worst, you're a pimp," he adds with a crude grin.

"'Madam'," says Carly, giving Graydon a smile. "And you cheated D'Ken."

"No; I ripped the bastard's head off," says Graydon, grimacing as he notes a training dummy, "which I'll gladly chalk up to my biological sire being a damned mutant freak job."

"I'm sure being a mutant is still better than being a Nazi," says Carly.

"I'm not admitting to that shit on enemy turf," Graydon whispers into Carly's ear as he draws her close.

"Try to be civil, Mr. Friend of Humanity," says Carly, gently nudging Graydon away.

"My biological half-brother and adoptive sister-who apparently siphoned off my power and memories nine years ago, or she wouldn't be trying to 'help me out'-are all 'students' here," says Graydon, annoyed as he grips the head of the training dummy.

"Didn't you also serve with Sparkplug under Professor Xavier?" asks Carly.

"I'm amazed that he's not here, peeking into my mind from his underground lair," says Graydon, narrowing his eyes at the training dummy's head.

"Your group's intel is solid," says Scott. "It's called 'Cerebro'," he continues, "and the professor mainly uses it to telepathically communicate with the X-Men long-distance: as well as detect mutants who need help controlling their powers."

Graydon glares at Scott.

"Unless you want humanity to face nothing but Brotherhoods led by Magneto and your mother," adds Scott, a wry smile forming on his face.

"Damn her, and damn you!" spits Graydon. "I'm not like you!"

Scott sighs.

"I'm normal, damn it!" continues Graydon, ripping off the training dummy's head. "Normal! Normal, normal, normal...!" He tears the dummy's head in half, then kicks the dummy to the ground.

"Herr Logan won't be happy to find out that you beat his time," grins Nightcrawler.

"Those are supposed to be durable," adds Scott. "Logan and one other guy could do what you did: to the training dummies, real people, and robots-including Sentinels."

Graydon trembles.

"Yeah," continues Scott, "you probably don't want to think about the 'other guy'."

"You only got one choice, bub," says Logan, shaking his head at the training dummy, "which is still more than me or your old man."

"Shut up, you bestial fuck," hisses Graydon.

Logan chuckles. "Normal or human, kid: pick one," he says.

Graydon tenses his fists. "Shut up!" he demands.

"I know it pisses you off," continues Logan, "so why don't you just go a round with me: get it all out of your system?"

Graydon hocks a wad of spit at Logan's feet. "Fuck off," he says. "I'm not playing that stupid game with you. I refuse to be baited into a pointless fight."

"Even though all you want to do is tear shit apart," says Logan, quiet, "because you can't tear God apart for makin' you 'a freak job'."

"How can you presume to know what I'm thinking?" counters Graydon.

"'Cause it's a fucking heat I can feel in the back of my eyeballs that burns in me and through me-from the inside out," says Logan. "Every time some stupid asshole picks a fight with me, and I have to stop myself from turnin' him into a shish kebab. Every time Reverend Stryker appears on TV to spew his bullshit."

"I won't fault you for that second one," says Graydon, a thin smile forming, "because I hate him even more than you do."

Logan nods. "And every time Sabretooth opens his mouth," he says, returning the smile. "You're a smarter guy than I was willing to give you credit for," he adds, "so you can guess how I feel about you."

"The third wasn't my problem-beyond his being a mutant," says Graydon, "until the US and Canadian governments decided that he needed to intervene in my love life."

"Actually," drawls Rogue, drinking a bottle of black cherry soda, "it was because the US government had Senator Kelly by his short hairs because he was sponsorin' your group-after you had your goons beat the shit outta Trevor for no good reason."

"If you had beat the shit out of Mystique," adds Logan, a vicious grin on his face, "only Rogue would've cared at the time."

"No," says Graydon, "the blue bitch would've been protected by society's double standards."

"Your group might've gotten Beast back!" counters Rogue.

"He never hated Mystique," pouts Nightcrawler, "and I forgive her."

"She's not worth the trouble...Kurt, is it?" says Graydon, wincing. "This is fucked up."

"If all you really wanted in life, Mr. Creed, was a chance to beat up your lousy parents," grins Kitty, "the X-Men are the experts."

Jean groans.

"I'm so glad that the Juggernaut's gone," says Scott. "He's a bad influence on Kat and Lorna."

Lorna gazes at Graydon.

"Looks like we've both got scores to settle, then," says Carly, studying Graydon.

"Mrs. Katzenbogen and Senator Kelly," says Graydon. "I've become a liability to them both," he continues, "so I need to resolve it."


Scene: 3

Stark, Richards, Namor, Xavier, and Black Bolt all exit into the inner courtyard of the Avengers Mansion.

Thanos appears with Omega and Spay-C.

"Why...?" asks Richards.

Thanos smiles. "I truly respect you," he says. "I'm going to die."

A white super jet transforms: into a Valkyr with a faceplate. "Bullshit," says the mech.

"Paracelsus," says Omega. "Stealth attempt: failed."

"As you get to know me," says Paracelsus, "you'll find that I'm not one for stealth in this form."

Richards and Stark pout at Paracelsus.

"Tony, don't be a spoiled brat-especially since you already have an armored 'form'," says Paracelsus. "I've only got this because I'm attached to the Protectobots: for the rest of my natural life."

"Could've done without the Guy Fawkes detailing," says Stark. "That machine you're piloting is an antique."

"If Vector Sigma approved it," says Paracelsus, "then no one else can judge."

Thanos sighs.

"Where do you wish to lead us, Thanos?" asks Xavier.

"Like you, Charles Xavier," says Thanos, "I'm a mutant: from my clade of genus Homo within the Eternals, I possess our variant of the X-gene."

"The Deviant gene," says Richards.

"So you want to aid mutantkind now?" wonders Xavier; he gives Thanos a wry grin.

"Consider me a sort of djinni," says Thanos, "a spirit of Death."

"More like a hopeless devotee," mutters Stark.

Paracelsus nods.

"To save the mutants of Earth, Xavier," asks Thanos, "whom would you kill?"

Xavier trembles; he glances at Black Bolt, even as he pulls out a tablet.

Black Bolt studies Thanos. Thanos will kill whomever you name, he warns. Be careful.

Xavier squares his shoulders, stopping his trembling; he looks into Thanos' eyes. "Nathaniel Essex," he says, "and En Sabah Nur."

"That's it?" wonders Thanos.

"Yes." Xavier's lips curl into a mirthless smile.

"Why not the Decepticons: as a threat to Earth," wonders Namor, "or anti-mutant organizations like the Friends of Humanity?"

"Or Magneto," adds Stark, "the dangerous omega-level mutant?"

"Neither the Decepticons, nor Creed's organization and other like-minded groups, are insurmountable," says Xavier, "and I would never betray my friend-especially since he's developed feelings for one of my students."

"Because of that," scoffs Stark, "we can't have our meetings in Wakanda anymore."

"I won't interfere with Ororo's choices for King T'Challa," says Xavier, "as I have too much respect for her."

The others study Xavier.

"En Sabah Nur is the greatest threat to the human race: including mutants," Xavier continues, "as his power is beyond that of even an omega-level mutant: close to what we could reliably call a god."

Thanos nods.

"As for Essex," adds Xavier, "I'm being petty; I've hated this evil, self-serving cretin ever since I was a child. Not only has he experimented on me and Cain," he continues, "but Essex-Mister Sinister-has tormented one of my students during his childhood."

"Alias: Nathan Milbury," says Paracelsus. "He's a cancerous tumor who needed to be excised for some time."

"Spoken like a true surgeon," says Xavier. "Those are my picks, Thanos."

"Then, my dear antagonists," says Thanos, "it's time I said goodbye." He snaps his gloved fingers on his left hand, and disappears; the Infinity Gauntlet drops to the ground.

Richards picks up the Infinity Gauntlet. "Now," he muses, grinning, "how do we decide who of the six of us gets to keep this?"


Scene: 4

"David," says a woman with graying dark hair, "I'm worried."

"I'm listening, Aunt Nora," says Katzenbogen, "though I'm not sure why you needed to call General Abernathy regarding Mr. Creed: as he's a domestic 'person of interest'."

"I think the aliens did something to him," says Nora, handing Katzenbogen a letter. "Graydon thinks his X-gene's active because he killed some space emperor bastard in self-defense: when he and that Banas girl got snatched up," she adds.

"And Miss Banas is one of our 'persons of interest'," says Abernathy, "owing to our issues with Cybertron for the past five years. Incidentally," he continues, giving Katzenbogen a look, "as of the time we started monitoring Banas, Creed became one of our interests-so I thank you for contacting us."

"I want to help him," says Nora. "He thinks that the Decepticons put little robots inside him! That's crazy!"

"Nanomachines," says Katzenbogen, setting down the letter. "With Cybertron's technological level, that's very possible: an experiment."

"They experimented on him!?" cries Nora. "That's got to be against the law!"

"It's not what you know," says Katzenbogen, "but what you can prove."

"We've had Mr. Creed submit to blood draws for the past five years for testing, Mrs. Katzenbogen," adds Greer, "which he complied with through weekly visits to the VA hospital."

"In all that, David, did you find anything?" asks Nora, looking into David's eyes.

Katzenbogen glances briefly at Abernathy, who nods.

Nora trembles.

"Elevated antibodies," says Katzenbogen, "related to an allergic reaction or infection. Something's inside him," he continues, "but we're not sure what."

"'Nano': it's a prefix, right?" asks Nora.

"One billionth," says Greer. "That's how small the robots would be if they were in Mr. Creed's blood," he adds.

"So a microscope wouldn't be able to see it," says Nora.

"Not until it was too late," says Katzenbogen.

"Graydon thinks these machines are in his blood," says Nora. "But he's always had a healthy immune system," she adds, grinning, "so even the Decepticons can't beat him."

"That's a possible hope, Mrs. Katzenbogen," says Greer.

"Honestly," says a man with graying dark hair and matching beard, "I can't imagine Megatron being that stupid. Those robots' gadgets makes our best tech look like the stone axes we used to use when we communicated with cave paintings," he adds.

"What are you thinking, honey?" Nora asks the man: her husband, Mr. Katzenbogen.

"Ask David," says Mr. Katzenbogen; he gives Katzenbogen a pleading look.

"You're right, uncle," says Katzenbogen. "We're even more outmatched than I thought we'd be when I watched The Day the Earth Stood Still as a kid."

"Like Jameson said in the Bugle," says Nora, wincing.

"He'll get his damned Pulitzer for that number," says Mr. Katzenbogen.


Scene: 5

Walker, in uniform as US Agent, starts to exit Carly's house...only to note dead men in paramilitary uniforms.

Walker blinks as Sneeden rubs his wrists.

Fairborne punches an unarmed survivor. "Please stay down if you want to live," he orders.

"Gotta...keep the chief's mind," groans the survivor, "on the mission...!"

"With these tactics?" scoffs Sneeden as he knocks out the survivor. "They're obvious cannon fodder-wouldn't even survive Basic."

"Agent," says Fairborne, saluting Walker as he presents his ID, "I take it Ms. Banas is secure."

"Lady of the house is safe, Flint," says Walker, using Fairborne's code name.

"Beachhead and I will secure this neighborhood," says Fairborne, nodding towards Sneeden. "Please back up the Captain, sir."

"Thank you," says Walker. He leaves.

Sneeden shakes his head. "Permission to speak frankly, Flint?" he asks.

Flint nods. "Say what I'm thinking," he says.

"Where the fuck did Creed find these idiots!?" fumes Sneeden. "Did he forget everything he learned in Vietnam?"

Fairborne touches his chin. "Stryker's been trying to absorb the Friends' membership for years," he says, "so he'd been slipping in some of his Church people even before Megatron's plan started. And then there's Zero Dark One wanting to pit not only the Church, the Friends, and the Right against each other, but the X-Men and both Brotherhoods."

"To trigger World War Three," says Sneeden. "Megatron's not going to be happy knowing that he's being used as a tool."


Scene: 6

"Why are we protecting these bloody bastards again?" asks Allerdyce, lighting a cigarette with his finger.

"Because you owe me, mate," hisses Zarana.

"Your blue sheila's got unfinished business with these stupid Friends louts," adds Zartan, "and my friend at MARS is paying double what Human Potential's puppetmasters offered us."

"Also," adds Ripper, grinning as he takes off his prescription glasses and dons his sunglasses, "your friend in the Friends tipped us off. He's off with their leader Creed," he adds, starting a chainsaw, "to have a forceful chat with the right Reverend Stryker."

"Out of 'is bloody mind, Stryker is," adds Torch. "Yanks are stupid."

"Take that back," says Katzenbogen; he blows a bubble gum-bubble, which pops. "My aunt Nora's entitled to her stupid, wrong-headed opinions-and it's my job to defend those rights with my life."

"Easy for you to say," snorts Allerdyce. "You ain't a mutant."

"Your group's first boss was-like my aunt-being persecuted in the Shoah," says Katzenbogen, "before he became a living red Van de Graaff machine."

"Your god had you lot mutilatin' your boy babies' little cocks," pouts Allerdyce, "and that weirded everybody out."

"And you call everybody outside your clan 'cow people'," adds Torch. "People don't like feelin' insulted, y'know."

"We're the peculiar people," snorts Katzenbogen, rolling his eyes.

"Let's shake things up," grins Petrakis, directing a seismic wave at the attackers.


Scene: 7

"My head aches around that woman, Warren!" seethes Hodge, adjusting his glasses.

Warren stares at Hodge. "Cameron," he sighs. "We can talk about this."

"Then get that twit fiancée of yours away from me, you winged circus freak!" Hodge demands.

"Listen to me, Cameron," scowls Warren. "You may be the most terrible backstabber I know," he continues, "but I still consider you a friend-so much so that I'm financially-backing someone whom you actually respect: Graydon Creed."

"Creed!?" sneers Hodge. "He's a mutant!"

"A mutant who hates being a mutant," scoffs Warren. "Friends of Humanity," he continues with a grin.

"It is good marketing, Cameron," says Astoria.

"Frankly, I'd have joined the Friends if it weren't for these," says Warren, unfurling his wings. "It'd make my relationship with my father a lot better, as I wouldn't have had such an unpleasant adolescence," he adds, "and my presence could've kept the Friends' focus on masking the X-gene: treating it like the genetic abnormality that it is."

"I do like being able to jinx machinery," says Astoria, "but I don't want to run around in blue and yellow jumpsuits. Not my best colors."

"Part of me will always miss Professor Xavier and the School," says Warren, "but I have a life to lead in the public eye: where I think I can best serve mutantkind."

Astoria raises an eyebrow.

"Support for the Friends notwithstanding," continues Warren.

"Both of you shut up!" cries Hodge.

A nondescript man sighs. "Worthington: let me just kill him already," he says, irritated. "Put Hodge out of his misery."

Warren blinks at the man. "I though Factor Three was disbanded, Sidney," he says sharply.

"It is," scoffs the man, Sidney. "When you were a kid with Xavier, I was taking orders from an alien in a robot exosuit play-acting as a mutant. These poor Right idiots have it worse."

Warren touches his chin. "Robotic Invasion of the Body Snatchers?" he asks.

"Yep, from the Decepticons," says Sidney. "You bringing your girlfriend here has saved me from having to shapeshift and infiltrate this group," he continues, pulling out a pistol.

Hodge lunges past Warren to attack Sidney, who hands the pistol to Astoria.

Warren grabs Hodge, then flies with Hodge and slams Hodge into a wall.

"Your true mutant colors shine through, Worthington...!" spits Hodge as he passes out.

"Astoria, give me that gun," orders Warren, quiet.

Astoria blinks, then hands Warren the pistol.

After taking the pistol from Astoria, Warren, his expression grim, presses the pistol against Hodge's head and fires.

Sidney frowns. "I was going to do that," he says.

"You can't afford the criminal defense attorney fees," says Warren.

"I could have," says Sidney, "if you had let me do my job. I'm freelance."

"Who was your client?" asks Warren.

"I can't tell you that," says Sidney.

"Ah, Dr. Doom, then," Warren muses.

"You're just flinging shit at a wall to see what sticks," says Sidney.

Graydon enters the conference hall with Dukes; he notes Hodge's dead body.

"Go get Stryker," says Warren.

"You weren't able to save your buddy Hodge," says Graydon.

"You're a stopped clock, Creed," says Warren, "so you were about due."

Dukes blinks, then grins. "Kevin!" he says gleefully to Sidney. "Are you trying for a Factor Three reunion?"

"No, you fat fuck," says Sidney, a smile on his face. "Besides, Bain's with Mr. Creed's mom."

"Why would you join the Friends, Blob!?" balks Warren.

"I was trying to sneak in to get up close to Mr. Creed," Dukes stage-whispers.

"But Fred's plan obviously didn't work," says Graydon.

Sidney changes into Mystique, then spreads his arms wide. "Give your momma a hug!" he crows in Mystique's voice.

Graydon smiles crudely, punches Sidney, then leaves.

Dukes sighs. "Yeah, he had that one coming, Mr. Creed," he says, following Graydon out of the conference room.

"Dukes is everywhere..." breathes Warren, nudging Hodge with his foot. "Look, Sidney," he continues, handing Sidney a business card, "have your client contact me so I can make sure you get paid. I'm going home with Tori." Warren opens a window, cradles Astoria, and flies out of the conference room.

Sidney opens his wallet, then nods. "Time to get change for a pay phone..." he drawls.


Scene: 8

Powerglide, outside, transforms to root mode. "You're leaving me for him!?" he balks.

"Don't get jealous, P. G.!" coos Astoria, stroking Warren's cheek. "We agreed to an open relationship!"

"When do I get to play with Moonracer?" quips Warren.

"She's actually here," says Powerglide.

"Can't wait to meet her!" says Warren, grinning; he kisses Astoria briefly, then swoops down to the ground.

"I know; goose and gander," says Astoria, breathless as Warren lands.

Sighing, Powerglide lands; he approaches Moonracer, Ironhide, and Chromia.

"Earth's an interesting planet," says Chromia.

Ironhide nods. "Humans are the craziest aliens I've ever met," he says.

Warren sets Astoria down, then walks up to Moonracer, looking her over appreciatively. "Want to have a foursome?" he asks, looking between Moonracer, Astoria, and Powerglide.

"You're a blunt one," says Moonracer.

Ironhide and Chromia glance at each other, then transform and drive off.

"Let's do it," continues Moonracer, "though your species likely won't do it out here."

"You're right; we like our privacy," says Warren, heading to his limo; he pulls out the cordless handset from his car phone, dialing a number into the handset.

"Why'd you say 'yes'?" wonders Powerglide. "Astoria's kind of funny with machines."

"So, she's spicy," grins Moonracer. "We'll teach these silly, beautiful dimorphics how to enjoy their bodies."

Powerglide draws Moonracer close. "Leave some of Worthington for me, okay...?" he says via internal radio. "He's never had input from behind."

"Neither has Carlton-Ritz," Moonracer radios.

"I've got first dibs on Tori's cute ass," says Warren as he puts the handset back inside the limo.

Powerglide and Moonracer blink at Warren.

"If I were a space alien in your shoes," continues Warren, "I'd want to go there, but as her fiancé, I get first crack at anal with her."

Astoria sighs. "Did you reserve us a room, Warren?" she asks.

"Soundproof, with plenty of space for the four of us," says Warren, taking out his checkbook; he writes and signs a check, then hands it to the chauffeur. "Go home, then take the rest of the month off, Kimblee," he says. "You've earned it."

"Thanks," says Kimblee. He drives off the limo.


Scene: 9

"Figures that Stryker's people would be tougher," says Graydon, firing at several Church members' torsos; he fires two shots at each member's as they fall, then reloads his two guns.

"Can't you aim for their kneecaps, Mr. Creed?" asks Dukes, casually swatting away shots from other Church members.

"One, Fred," says Graydon, "center of mass to stop the target. Two," he continues, unloading one pistol at a determined Church member who lunges at him, "these poor bastards are better off dead."

Dukes blocks Graydon from entering the sanctuary entrance. "Prove it," he says, folding his arms.

"See for yourself," says Graydon, narrowing his eyes at the dead Church members on the ground. "Curbstomp a skull."

Dukes sighs, then stomps on a Church member's head, crushing it under his foot; he blinks, shaking his foot in horror and disgust.

"Method to this mutant-hater's madness," grins Graydon. "Now let me pass," he adds as his smile fades.

Dukes complies. "Can't believe it..." he breathes as Graydon enters the sanctuary. "The Church of Human Potential...are robots inside...?"


Scene: 10

Carly enters the house with de Cobray and Bumblebee.

"You insist on coming," says de Cobray.

"One, Carly's my friend," says Bumblebee, "so I was coming with her anyway. Two," he continues, "your boyfriend Jimmy wants you to know that he'll always have your back."

"He's such a sentimental idiot," hisses de Cobray, "and a demented capitalist."

"You do still owe him money," grins Carly. "Anyway," she continues, "I know that he's expecting us, but this is still too easy."

"The man Smith is confident," says de Cobray, eyes cold with anger.

"He likely already killed whoever you intended to protect," says Carly.

"The bastard is fascist scum: the old breed," says de Cobray. "When we enter Smith's base," she adds, opening a hatch leading underground, "he'll have a show of force."

Carly gives de Cobray a grim smile. "Then I'll finally be able to give Mr. Smith a piece of my mind," she says.

The two young women arrive at a massive door, with Rogers: in uniform as Captain America, standing outside. "An Avengers part-timer's taking care of 'Smith's' flunkies. You should be able to go home, Ms. de Cobray."

"I will see that son-of-a-bitch die, Captain Yankee," says de Cobray, a brief smile on her lips.

"Just prepare yourselves, ladies," says Rogers; he pushes open the door.


Scene: 11

Storm hovers above Smith, tense.

Seated in his chair, Smith smiles: unfazed by Storm's presence; he wears his red skull mask as he twirls a Walther P-38 on his index finger-one with a familiar icon on the side.

"You immobilized Megatron..!?" wonders Carly, standing with Rogers, Bumblebee, and de Cobray.

"Double-crossed by a flesh creature..." mutters Megatron, clutched in Smith's hand.

"I'm sure Starscream tried to warn you, Megatron," says Carly, regaining her composure, "but to be fair: it's hard to trust him, too."

"You're rather friendly with your enemy, mine maiden Carly," says Smith in a glib American accent.

"Could you use your real voice, Herr Shmidt?" spits de Cobray in German. "Hearing you pass off your German as English makes my skin itch."

"Ja, fraeulein," says Smith, standing. "'The cat's out of the bag' as it were," he adds in English.

"Release T'Challa," demands Storm, noting the bruised form of T'Challa tied to an X-shaped cross.

"Only after you've killed Ms. de Cobray," says Smith. "You're not quite the defense I wanted," he adds. "I'd much prefer to have my little Juden friend Maxie: the fellow you know biblically well, I believe."

Storm narrows her eyes. "As though I'd have him waste his power on the likes of you," she says, cool.

"You're not going all-out, Frau Munroe," drawls Smith.

"Because you're too much of a damned coward," says Rogers, glaring at Smith.

"We're both relics, Herr Rogers," says Smith, taking off his mask. "I'd like to say that I had the dignity to accept my senescence gracefully."

"You're you, Shmidt," says Rogers. "Let's wax nostalgic and throw hands: like old times. We never did finish that boxing match. I was about to win."

Smith laughs, a cruel expression on his face. He fires Megatron at a group of unconscious soldiers, disintegrating them.

Rogers' eyes widen in horror. Carly trembles, while de Cobray shudders.

"I hated the Geneva Conventions," sneers Smith, "and how my quisling superiors always tried to tie my hands with them. I'm so glad," he continues, "that I don't have to bother with that scheisse anymore."

"What was the point of that!?" cries Storm.

"What will you do, fraeulein?" asks Smith. "Anything serious down here will cause a cave-in."

"You called me here! Why!?" demands Carly.

"I wanted to finally meet you, mein maedchen," says Smith with a grin. "I had hoped for a son as a proper heir," he continues, "but a marriage can be arranged to amend that."

"You want to binary-bond the girl with X-23?" asks Megatron. "That's your plan!?"

"We humans have this obnoxious habit of persisting," says Smith, "and given that Herr Creed's mutant constitution hinders your plan at present, Herr Megatron, I had to enact other contingencies to ensure mankind's destruction."

"Had you left us alone," says Carly, "and let the US and Canadian governments continue with 'Operation Gilgamesh', then you might've gotten your insane wish. No kids, though."

"No grandson for me?" balks Smith, incredulous.

"The so-called groom hates both of his parents-which sadly, ballooned into targeting innocent bystanders like Storm," says Carly, glancing at Storm. "Part of your design, I'm sure."

"I pushed Creed towards that inevitable conclusion," says Smith. "Hatred is a powerful human emotion."

"I have no choice but to agree with you," says Carly, calm. "After all: I hate you from the bottom of my heart."

Megatron shrieks, in shocked pain.

Smith drops Megatron; Rogers throws his shield at Smith: who narrowly dodges Rogers' attack.

T'Challa frees himself from the X-cross with a hidden key; he dives toward Megatron, picks him up, then fires point-blank at Smith.

Smith stares at T'Challa in shock...then laughs as Megatron fails to fire.

"What!?" spits T'Challa, even as his voice rises in pitch. "That's impossible."

Smith chuckles. "Herr Megatron's alt mode works just like a real Walther, Frau Zauber-at least, that's a name you appropriated," he says.

T'Challa tenses his fists as he changes shape, reverting to his-or rather, her true form: Mystique. "Thanks for telling me, jackass," she seethes, switching off the safety; she starts to point Megatron at Smith.

Megatron leaps out of Mystique's hand, then transforms: towering over Smith; he scowls, then fires his fusion cannon on Smith: vaporizing him.

Rogers blinks.

"Go, humans," says Megatron, "while I'm in a merciful mood."

"I could've fired you," says Mystique.

"Never again," says Megatron, "will I be a tool of any organic. Go, flesh creature," he orders, "or you and these others of your damnable species will join Smith in the Pit."

"That bastard's dead," says de Cobray, "and T'Challa's safe. Let's go."

Mystique tenses her fists briefly.

Bumblebee refreshes his optics, staring at Megatron.

"Get the stupid humans out of here, Autobot fool!" roars Megatron.

"Geez," says Bumblebee as he transforms. "Megatron's in a mood everybody," he adds, opening his doors. "Hop in so we can roll the hell out!"

Carly nods; she boards Bumblebee with Rogers, Storm, Mystique, and de Cobray.

Bumblebee drives out of the underground base with his passengers.

Megatron shakes, his optics filled with fury as he looks around at Smith's base; after about two minutes, he bursts through the underground base's ceiling.


Scene: 12

Walker leaps out of a helicopter just as Bumblebee-still in his alt mode-bursts through the door of Smith's house.

"Evacuate this area!" radios Bumblebee, driving off. "It's fragged!"

"How!?" asks Walker, talking into his Avengers communicator. "What's Smith up t-holy shit!" he says abruptly as he notes Megatron in the sky.

"Get Unus and anybody with forcefields!" orders Rogers through Walker's communicator.

Trailbreaker, parked nearby, transforms after letting Bain out. "Already on it," he says, generating his forcefield over several houses.

"This is gonna be the death of me," breathes Bain, projecting his forcefield over Megatron, "but I love the City too much to let Megatron blow it up." He surrounds Megatron with his forcefield.

Megatron, blinded with rage, fires onto Smith's house; realizing that he injured himself, he orients his body to fall onto Smith's house.

Trailbreaker sighs. "All things considered," he says, activating his commlink, "that went well."

"I'm hungry," says Bain, "and thankfully, because holding all of his shit back spent out my forcefield for a while," he adds, nodding to Megatron, "I can actually eat."

"Pizza or deli?" asks Trailbreaker.

"Katz's Deli: brisket on rye," says Bain, grinning.

"Considering your mutant powers' side effects," says Trailbreaker, "I'll get yours brought here on special delivery. Do you copy, Protectobots?" he says into his commlink.

"Copy that," says Blades' voice over Trailbreaker's commlink. "I'm already over Houston Street. ETA: three minutes."

"Can you hold out for that long?" Trailbreaker asks Bain.

Bain sighs. "My power's starting to come back," he says, then notices Megatron struggling to his feet, "but I've got a target to hold back for three minutes." Bain projects a forcefield dome over Megatron and the ruins of Smith's house.

Trailbreaker covers himself and Bain with his own generated forcefield.


Scene: 13

Bumblebee, scowling, enters Cliffjumper's quarters; he sets five cubes of high-grade energon in front of Cliffjumper.

Cliffjumper stares at Bumblebee and the high-grade. "This for me?" he asks.

"Yeah," says Bumblebee. "As to why: I keep my promises."

Cliffjumper refreshes his optics, then widens them in realization. "What happened in New York?" he asks.

"Megatron was immobilized," says Bumblebee. "Smith-or rather, Shmidt-used Megatron to kill his own soldiers, then threatened to do the same to the rest of us unless Storm killed the Baroness."

"What in the Pit!?" balks Cliffjumper.

"T'Challa wasn't T'Challa, but Mystique," Bumblebee continues. "Megatron screamed in pain, and something happened to cause Shmidt to drop Megatron. Mystique picked up and tried to fire Megatron, but the safety was still on. When she switched off the safety, Megatron..."

"He killed Shmidt," says Cliffjumper.

Bumblebee nods. "After that, Megatron ordered us to go," he says. "I'm not sure why he spared us, but I'm not complaining."

"Let's make sure he regrets it," says Cliffjumper, grinning.

"I agree," says Bumblebee; he smiles...then flicks out a lazon switchblade, holding it against Cliffjumper's neck column.

Cliffjumper's optics widen. "What the hell are you doing, Bumblebee!?" he asks.

Jazz, Smokescreen, Tracks, and Blaster enter Cliffjumper's quarters.

"What's going on!?" Cliffjumper demands, looking between Bumblebee and the other mechs.

Smokescreen grabs a chair. "Just the question we want to ask you, friend," he says, giving Cliffjumper a mirthless smile.

"Let's get down to business," says Jazz, nodding to Bumblebee as Blaster restrains Cliffjumper.

Bumblebee retracts his lazon switchblade.

Tracks chuckles; Mirage lifts his invisibility cloak.

"How long are you gonna hold that mistake against me, Raj?" asks Cliffjumper, narrowing his eyes at Mirage.

"As long as I like," says Mirage, returning the scowl. "I don't like having my loyalties questioned, for the record," he continues, "so now it's your turn."

"There ain't a question with me!" counters Cliffjumper. "I want what's best for the Autobots."

"Really?" asks Bumblebee. "Walk through it for us, then."

An Autobot Intelligence shakedown, seethes Cliffjumper silently. Why would Bumblebee go along with this..!?

"Let's try another tack: to get to the core of the matter," says Smokescreen. "I'm here, sitting down with you rather than standing over you," he adds, "because you've been blowing off your appointments with me-ever since one of our key special teams arrived."

"The Aerialbots," says Cliffjumper, glowering. "It's not a secret how I feel about them," he continues, "and I don't believe I'm wrong."

Smokescreen nods, writing in his datapad.

"But we ain't supposed to have an audience!" continues Cliffjumper. "Our sessions are just you and me, and you report to the senior brass..." Cliffjumper trails off, looking up at Jazz.

"I was wondering when that neuroprocessor would do its job," grins Jazz. "Also, this is Special Ops." Jazz gestures toward Bumblebee, Smokescreen, Mirage, Tracks, and Blaster. "All these jack-afts answer directly to me."

"Then what are you all thinking about me!?" sputters Cliffjumper.

"That you're a liability to the Autobots who should be terminated for the good of our war effort," says Tracks. "If I were head of Special Ops, you'd be dead by now."

"Why!?" demands Cliffjumper.

"Speaking only for myself," says Blaster, cold, "I came online to this war raging. When it ends-however it ends-it has to stay ended. Cybertron needs to heal and become one."

"You could be a threat to that harmony," muses Mirage, "as puny as you are."

"Because I believe the Decepticons should be broken down for spare parts and smelted when we win?" scoffs Cliffjumper.

"In a sense, yes," says MR-07, lifting a holographic cloak over himself and MRT-43.

"It was that exact vindictiveness: at the end of your Second War," adds MRT-43, "which fostered the conditions that created the current War you and your cohorts are fighting."

Cliffjumper sighs. "Where's Red Alert?" he asks, dull. "He probably thinks I'm a security risk compromised by the Decepticons to act as some kind of unwitting sleeper agent."

"Red's paranoia problem stems in part from his creator sticking an MC-series battle computer inside him," says Jazz, thoughtful as he studies Cliffjumper.

"He's jumpy," adds Tracks, "but he's saved our aft plates too many times to count."

"What do you bring to the table, C. J.?" asks Bumblebee, calm.

Cliffjumper clenches his fists. "I'm a fighter!" he says. "You all know that!"

"Every one of us on the Ark's a fighter," says Jazz, frowning. "Worse for you," he adds, "we're on a damned planet of fighters."

"'No guts, no glory...'" sings Blaster.

"Fraggin' Galaxy Rangers!?" balks Cliffjumper. "Slag's favorite Earth cartoon?"

"Yeah," says Jazz. "Another fighter you're competing against, by the way."

"Slag authorized me to release this," adds Smokescreen, "because he wants every 'dumb Autobot' to leave him alone about Galaxy Rangers." He nods to Blaster.

Blaster presses PLAY.

"Aliens on show am come to Earth, and give them advanced technology," says Slag in the recording, "so Earthians on show can fight Queen of the Crown-because them am too weak to do it on own."

"The show was written by humans on Earth!" says Cliffjumper.

"We're on the planet where a fraggin' elderly organic managed to immobilize and use Megatron as a weapon!" counters Jazz. "You know: the bastard who can blow up a sun!"

MR-07 and MRT-43 both nod.

"You think I'm sick like Shmidt!?" fumes Cliffjumper. "Is that it!?"

"You tell us, fellow," says MR-07.

"I hate the Decepticons," says Cliffjumper, shuddering with lubricant in his optics, "and everything they stand for. Even so," he continues as tears stream down his faceplate, "I'd never knowingly or willingly do anything to risk betraying Cybertron just to get at them!"

Smokescreen touches his chin, then writes in his datapad.

"Hell," continues Cliffjumper, "Shmidt was so fragged in the head that Hitler tried to get help from the Allied forces to take him out."

"Shmidt did report hating the Geneva Conventions," says Bumblebee.

Cliffjumper stands; he spreads his arms wide. "If you guys honestly believe I'm that far gone-to destroy my own planet to spite my enemies," he says, "then yeah: go ahead and kill me now."

"Cliffjumper, my man," says Jazz, "I'm the guy who makes that call, not you. Keep that in mind. You grok me?"

Cliffjumper nods slowly, saluting Jazz.

"I think we're done here for now," says Jazz. He exits Cliffjumper's quarters, followed by Bumblebee, Smokescreen, Tracks, Mirage, and Blaster.

MRT-43 studies Cliffjumper, then leaves behind the group of Autobots.

"What's your angle in this, Guardian?" asks Cliffjumper.

"To protect the people of Earth," says MR-07, "and ensure that they may fight without hindrance from their own allies."

Cliffjumper scowls.

"Use your own battle computer, good fellow," MR-07 continues, "as the asset that it is, and you will not be a hindrance to your people or the Earthians. If you heed my advice," he adds, "you may live. Good day to you." MR-07 bows, then exits Cliffjumper's quarters.

Alone, Cliffjumper tenses his fists; he punches in a wall. Wincing, he rubs his knuckles, then taps a console, opening a commlink. "Hey, Red," he says, weary as he stares at his five cubes of high-grade, "I figured that I should ask you about this, before I jump the gun..."


Scene: 14

"Ron," says Graydon, quiet.

Sparkplug frowns, folding his arms. "You're staying put," he says.

"I let a bunch of jackasses beat the shit out of a kid," continues Graydon.

"Trevor, your kid brother," says Sparkplug.

"How'd you...? Ron, why are you wasting your time on me?" asks Graydon.

"To err-or be a damned shithead," says Sparkplug, "is human: and we are, in galactic terms, just one humble species of human. To forgive: divine." He smiles, gently squeezing Graydon's shoulder. "On Earth, we strive to be divine: which means giving each other a second chance. Or third, or seventy-times-seven, or however many chances we need."

"Leave that shit to Jesus Christ," says Graydon. "I'm hell-bound."

"That is Christ's department," says Sparkplug. "He died for our sins, remember?"

"I never believed in any redemptive or salvific power from any religion," says Graydon. "We're meant to live one life, and then we die. After that, our souls are judged by a being: called 'God', to keep it Abrahamic."

Sparkplug nods.

"If we're good, our souls rest: free," continues Graydon. "If we're evil, our souls burn in hell for eternity. On balance, I'm evil."

"You think that justice is that simple," muses Sparkplug.

"My cosmology's just my own; I don't expect anyone to follow it," says Graydon.

"God doesn't have to wait for you to die to judge you," says Sparkplug. "Since I presuppose His existence, and I'm willing to accept the Bible as His written word until new evidence comes in," he continues, "I'm going to tell you that your read on God is flawed."

"On what evidence?" asks Graydon.

"God permeates every subatomic particle in the universe," says Sparkplug, "which means that God is with us, and in each of us."

"Even scumbags like Shmidt?" snorts Graydon.

"Not even that piece of shit was born evil," says Sparkplug. "Evil is just a hole or void where good should be."

"St. Augustine was talking out of his ass," says Graydon.

"Thomas Aquinas countered Bertrand Russell regarding pain and sorrow before Russell was born," says Sparkplug. "And before Sacher-Masoch: who hated being associated with his apparent kink."

"What about de Sade?" asks Graydon with a sly grin.

"Without either of those sick bastards," says Sparkplug, returning the smile, "we wouldn't have Wonder Woman or any good porn."

"I get the porn, but Wonder Woman...?" wonders Graydon, his eyes wide.

"Her creator was a fascinating man whose wife had a female side-piece," says Sparkplug. "Their relationship inspired the Lasso of Truth."

Graydon sighs. "What are you trying to say, Ron?" he asks.

"God's judgment is an ongoing thing," says Sparkplug, "but as long as we're still alive, it's less 'judgment' and more 'discipline and correction'. Heavenly Father and all."

Graydon gives Sparkplug a baleful look.

"Your jaundiced views on parents are justified," continues Sparkplug, "and shared by a lot of people on Earth. It's damned hard to be divine: to forgive people who've wronged you," he continues, "and that's where God comes in, to help us by working through people."

"Those people can be robots, right?" asks Graydon.

"If they're sapient like the Autobots and our favorite assholes: the Decepticons," says Sparkplug, "then yeah."

"Then God really hates me," says Graydon, "and wants me dead."

"One clean blood transfusion with an active healing factor X-gene and we can purge you of those nanites," says Sparkplug. "You're smart enough to swallow your pride and do what's necessary to live," he continues, "so why let yourself die?"

"I'm the surviving lab rat," says Graydon, picking up a book on a bookshelf near the bed. "One of the rats of NIMH," he adds, presenting the book.

"Robots in disguise," muses Sparkplug; he trembles.

"Five years," spits Graydon, "and only two people noticed that something was wrong with Stryker and Hodge: me, and that sorry Nazi fuck Smith. If it weren't for me being a damned mutant freak job, I would've transformed into a Megatron-Terminator," he continues, "and no one would've been the wiser."

Sparkplug sighs.

"Earth would've been fucked," says Graydon, "and it's still in danger. Now that I've rendered Megatron's experiment a failure, the remaining question: who on our planet will Megatron subvert next?"

"I'd like to hope that Megatron would abandon twisting our bodies to serve him," he says, rubbing the scar on his neck, "but I know better. I'm sure he liked having 'Autobot Spike'," he continues, "defect to his side."

"Megatron's not going to waste his time with normal people. He wants mutants," sneers Graydon, "preferably ones already trained or skilled in using their powers."

"We have to warn the X-Men-and even the Brotherhood," says Sparkplug. "Maybe through the Avengers."

"They won't listen to me," says Graydon, "but they have to listen to my corpse."

"Who's our contact?" asks Sparkplug, grim.

"Dr. Greer," says Graydon. "Only black guy in our unit back in Vietnam, remember?" he says, grinning.

"He's the only reason I survived your attempt at a blood transfusion," says Sparkplug, returning the smile, "and he's in Abernathy's unit now."

"Then we should go now," says Graydon, rising off the bed. "He and his cousin's already outside, with her pack of Black Panther Party goons guarding an ambulance not named Ratchet."

"Some Friends are actually friends," quips Sparkplug.


Scene: 15

"I've got a patient in the Witwicky house who needs a blood transfusion," says Ratchet through a loudspeaker linked to his radio.

"I'm aware," says Greer into his radio receiver, "except that he's my patient, and I can't release him to your custody until he's been examined for possible Beta Cygnus II violations."

Ratchet, still in his alt mode, switches off the loudspeaker. "Doc," he says, using Greer's codename, "you know that's a load of shorted transistors. You all had five years to study Creed."

"Creed's physiology made it impossible for us to identify any injury Megatron may have caused until now," says Greer.

"Just drive off," hisses Trask.

"Chill out, doctor," says Wilkinson. "I'm nobody's driver."

Greer mutes the radio. "My cousin," he says, "the silly Afro-wearing woman usually in New York City holding a 'No More Mutants' sign, has insisted on helping Mr. Creed: not realizing his true intent."

"We used to date," adds Wilkinson.

"Our world's very small," says Greer. "Anyway, Dr. Trask," he continues, "we'll be able to leave in ten seconds."

"I've got Creed's donor with me, Doc!" says Ratchet. "Let me do my fragging job and treat-okay, now you slaargs have done it!" he fumes as he lets a tall blond exit, then transforms.

Various Panthers back away from Ratchet.

Two dark blue vans open; young men wearing colored patterned headscarves emerge from the vehicles, brandishing switchblades.

Greer's cousin enters the ambulance. "Floor it, Lonzo," she says.

"Bloods and Crips!?" snorts Wilkinson as he complies.

"Now he drives," breathes Trask.

"Slag it!" fumes Ratchet. "I don't want to waste time fighting you idiots! Frag!"

Sparkplug sighs, then walks in the middle of the street; he touches Ratchet's arm. "Calm down," he says. "Graydon was experimented on by the Decepticons. The US is part of the Beta Cygnus-*"

"You know that doesn't matter!" spits Ratchet. "Optimus won't allow any chance of our tech being reverse-engineered-*"

"Optimus can stick his shit attitude up his aft port!" counters Sparkplug.

"And what about yours, Sparky?" says the blond, Victor, snatching off his sunglasses and beret.

The two groups of gang members look over Victor, then meekly put away their switchblades, muttering amongst themselves.

"Look," says Sparkplug, regaining his composure. "Mr. Creed, if I were in your situation dealing with Spike, I'd give every organ and drop of blood I have in me to save his life. The problem is," he continues, "that Graydon Creed would give his body and soul to protect his country from all threats: foreign and domestic."

"American soldier boys," says Victor.

"Boy out of the Army, but you can't get the Army out of the boy," says Sparkplug.

"They're gonna kill 'im," says Victor, "and the US Army needs to get their asses to the back of the line."

"He knows that," says Sparkplug, quiet. "I know Graydon well enough," he adds, "that the first person in that line will get one shot."


Scene: 16

Graydon grips the nurse's wrist holding the needle. "Playing nurse, bitch?" he sneers.

The nurse scowls briefly. "I need to inject you with this," she says. "You should be under."

"To keep the nanomachines at bay," says Graydon, "my body's at a point where a normal dose of sedatives won't work on me; you'd have to use a dose powerful enough to kill a herd of elephants."

"Like your father," says the nurse, "though even that much would just put him to sleep for a few days."

"This is your shot, my slut," says Graydon. "Don't piss it away being Optimus Prime's errand girl."

"What are you talking about?" asks the nurse, narrowing her eyes.

"That liquid smells like blood," says Graydon, squeezing the nurse's wrist. "That's the Howlett X serum; Dr. Greer isolated it in 1987 and synthesized it after the COBRA-LA incident."

The nurse drops the needle as she frees her wrist from Graydon's grip.

Greer enters the operating room; he presses a gun at the nurse's back. "Nurse Darkhoelme," he says quietly, "I'll continue on from here. Please go home."

"Not yet," says Steen. "Lie down, Ms. Darkhoelme, please."

"We're both going to fucking die!" say Graydon and the nurse: Darkhoelme in unison.

"Mr. Creed has agreed to euthanasia, administered by Dr. Greer," says Steen, adjusting his glasses. "You, on the other hand, need surgery; our bomb squad detected whatever was installed inside your head when you infiltrated the compound," he continues, "and I'm obligated by the Hippocratic Oath to save your life."

"Do you think the ones who installed the bomb," asks Darkhoelme, lying on the other operating bed, "don't have other ways to kill me?"

"I'll save you," says Steen, determined. He places a gas mask over Darkhoelme's nose and mouth, then delivers sedative through the mask.

Darkhoelme drifts off to sleep, reverting to her true form as Mystique.

Steen blinks, gathers his surgical equipment, then picks up a phone receiver. "I'll need a walkthrough from the best surgeon I know."

"His rates tended to be prohibitively high when he was in active practice," says Greer.

"Dr. Strange has changed since he discovered hermeticism and Asian philosophy," says Steen. "He can't perform surgery anymore, but he's replaced it with magic."

Greer wipes his glasses, shaking his head.

"We fought COBRA-LA: an ancient hidden society of snake people," asks Steen, "and you're scoffing at basic human religious syncretism and misunderstood science? Hello, Stephen..." he says into the receiver.

"How'd your unit get stuck with a pacifist, Dr. Greer?" asks Graydon, shaking his head at Steen and Mystique.

"Some of our best soldiers were pacifists and conscientious objectors," says Greer, cool.

"That serum's from a mutant's blood," muses Graydon.

Greer nods. "Two mutants, actually," he says. "One was a Canadian paratrooper from World War II: James Howlett," Greer continues. "The other-*"

"Victor Creed," says Graydon.

"No, you," says Greer. "In 1987, we added a fresh infusion of blood from Howlett to the serum. I know for a fact that Howlett X can literally bring people back from the dead," he adds, "so it will definitely wipe out the nanotech in your body."

"Don't waste it on me," says Graydon.

"It's made with your own blood, mixed with some blood from Howlett," says Greer.

Graydon stares at the ceiling.

"I refined it to remove any positive and negative antigens," continues Greer. "It's compatible with all blood types."

"Then jab the blue-skinned freak 'Darkhoelme' with it," orders Graydon. "A final request."

"Why?" asks Greer.

"If I can't kill her," says Graydon, "no one can."

Greer hands Steen another syringe and a vial of Howlett X serum, then places a sedative mask over Graydon's nose and mouth. He winces, then injects five grams of sodium thiopental.

"Do you have to kill him?" whispers Steen.

"Creed requested this," answers Greer after reviewing his watch for fifteen seconds; he injects 100 milligrams of pancuronium bromide.

"What does his death accomplish?" continues Steen quietly.

Greer takes a deep breath; he studies his watch for thirty seconds. "His death could save over five billion lives," he says, injecting 100 milliequivalents of potassium chloride. "That was the reasoning he gave me."

Steen chuckles as he continues his work. "My dad would say something like this: 'Unlike God, the elder Mr. Creed-the estranged sire of the younger Creed-did not consent to give his only begotten natural son to save mankind'," he says, "'and so he'll pour his unholy wrath upon us for killing his kid'."

"If the man wants to eviscerate me, I can understand," says Greer. "I'd only ask him to allow me about two hours' worth of self-administered ethanol poisoning."

"I just need an emesis bag," says Steen.


Scene: 17

"I'm not in a good place," says Sparkplug. "I don't want to be near my family when I'm like this."

"They can help you," says Brock. "That's what family does."

"I protect my family!" fumes Sparkplug. "Yet I sent my brother-in-arms to his death. I sent him to die-I sent Graydon to die!"

Brock blinks at Sparkplug.

"I know it's stupid. Graydon was a bigoted asshole. He let some of his discount green beret wannabes torture a kid to death," continues Sparkplug. "A sizeable group of people think that his self-imposed execution was long-overdue," he adds, "not even realizing that he didn't take Hodge and Stryker out because of some desire to 'atone for his sins'; he did it to save humanity from being turned into Megatron-controlled Terminators over their fear of mutants and what they can do to ordinary people."

"You don't think that Spike and Buster want to help you?" asks Brock. "You're a great dad, Mr. Witwicky," he continues. "I'm sure that Spike would let you mourn Creed."

"I'm just hoping that Spike backs off from Carly for a while," says Sparkplug. "She and Graydon had a bond."

Brock nods, studying Walker. "I know bonds," he says.


Scene: 18

It's not right, says Walker to himself. None of this shit sits well with me.

"Talk, Agent," says Hoskins.

"I'm not in uniform, Bucky." Walker gives Hoskins a thin, mirthless smile. "I've literally killed guys for that."

"I remember that all-too well," says Hoskins. "That was after you murked the Watchdogs. And it's been 'Battlestar' for seven years, 'Super-Pat'."

"Those assholes had to die," says Walker. "Because of those two self-serving morons: 'Left-Winger' and 'Right-Winger', the Watchdogs kidnapped, and then killed...my parents. Good, ordinary people who'd do anything to protect me. Good parents. Not perfect, flawed: but good people if given half a chance to breathe, to be themselves," he continues. "To adjust to the bullshit changes and social experiments here in America and around the world in their own way. Also, fuck Gruenwald's white guilt bullshit."

Hoskins sighs.

"'Bucky' has been the name of every guy playing Captain America's star-spangled sidekick since Rogers put on the uniform-most of whom were white since James Buchanan Barnes," says Walker. "Were you-the actual black man-offended?"

"I didn't give a shit," says Hoskins, "but 'Battlestar' is a cooler name."

Walker snorts. "I keep expecting to see Twiki running behind you," he says, "and hoping that Soundwave doesn't reprogram him."

"Twiki's from Buck Rogers, not Battlestar Galactica-the one where Ben Cartwright travelled to the future: at least that's how I'm viewing it," grins Hoskins.

Walker chuckles.

"What are you planning?" asks Hoskins after a moment.

"No killing involved-except in self-defense. I want to send a message," says Walker.

Hoskins raises an eyebrow.

Rogers, unnoticed, approaches Walker and Hoskins.

"'Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose...'," drawls Walker.

"Somehow, I don't think you've turned to the hippie side," says Hoskins.

"Never go full hippie," says Walker. "I'll meet 'em at the points where we both want the same thing for America, but part ways again when they predictably go batshit insane," he continues with a grin, "and I'm sure they feel the same way about an asshole like me."

"Does your crazy, stupid plan involve the Decepticons?" asks Rogers.

"Yes, sir," says Walker. "I expect that once it's executed, the panicky housewives giving anti-anyone groups oxygen in the US will give it a damn rest."

Rogers and Hoskins stare at Walker.

"Let's consider mutants, for example," says Walker, rising to his feet. "The people who joined groups like the Friends and that shit excuse for a Church," he adds, "are scared."

Rogers nods.

"You'd take a page from FDR and say 'Nothing to fear but fear itself', Captain," Walker continues. "I say fuck FDR; let's give the frightened something to actually be afraid of." He jumps into the air, flying off.

"What the fuck!?" balks Hoskins. "That wasn't in my dose!"

"It was bound to happen," says Rogers, cool.

"So. Is Walker a Kree, or like Sentry?" wonders Hoskins.

"I was literally the weakest guy to ever serve as Captain America," says Rogers, smiling. "Every subsequent 'stand-in' was at base stronger than I was before the Serum."

"None of the others could fly: not Nasland, or Mace, or Burnside," says Hoskins.

Rogers frowns at Burnside's name.

"When did flying come into it for Walker?" asks Hoskins.

"He was born with it," says Rogers. "Active X-gene."


Scene: 19

Walker, in a masked one-piece costume, laughs. "That should clear escape velocity," he says with a smile. "Wasn't quite able to toss the bastards all the way to Cybertron, but they should be half the way there."

Dive-Dive approaches Walker. "Who are you," he demands, "and why did you toss Deceptibase off the planet?"

"I'm just a humble...no; fuck it," says Walker. "I'm Super-Patriot: back from the depths of hell. As to why I chucked the Decepticons off my planet?" he continues. "'Cause I felt like it today."

Dive-Dive stares at Walker.

"If any cameras are on me," continues Walker, "I want to put the Decepticons, and any other enemies of America-foreign and domestic-and the rest of Earth on notice. Those of us strong enough to protect themselves and the ones they love," he says, "aren't putting up with your crap anymore. We aren't hiding anymore-we don't have to."

"Oh?" wonders Dive-Dive.

"Now," says Walker, "it's time for the cowards and malcontents of the universe to run and hide. Never a good idea..."


Scene: 20

"'...to wake the sleeping giant'," says Walker, on the viewscreen.

"Of all the organic filth I've had to deal with," says Megatron, "these Earth creatures are easily the worst of them all. Damn them," he seethes. "Damn them all to the Pit!"

"'To the Decepticons: because I know your boss Megatron is watching-and he's pissed off'," says Walker, "'talk the old Walther down and tell him that the smartest move he can make is to go back home and leave Earth alone'."

Skywarp glances at Megatron, then laughs derisively. "You're fragged if you think we're doin' that," he sneers. "It's personal now."

"The most logical course of action-*" begins Shockwave, over the commlink.

"To hell with that!" spits Starscream. "Anything less than subjugating the creatures of that miserable rock is unacceptable."

"On that, Starscream," says Megatron, "we're in perfect agreement. We've eradicated better organisms than the likes of the cretins of Earth."

Shockwave degausses his vocoder. "Megatron," he says, "the most logical course of action is to divert all non-essential energy resources to the steering thrusters: to dock at the coordinates which I have just transmitted."

"Ah," says Megatron, a rueful smile on his face, "I'm relieved to see that you've assessed our intentions as well as our predicament."

"You are correct, Megatron," says Shockwave. "My frustration with the flesh creatures of Earth is just as great as yours."

Megatron laughs.


Scene: 21

"Under the terms of the Beta Cygnus II Pact," says Small Foot, "I'm obligated to-*"

"The same pact you signed with the United States, the Soviet Union: which is defunct as of Earth date November 9, and-*" starts Skywarp.

"The Soviet Union still has a functioning government," says Small Foot, cutting Skywarp off.

"Give it time, Trucksie; the Berlin Wall fell that day, and humans who hate it in East Germany are fleeing in droves," says Skywarp. "Anyway: those two and Latveria-who's holding some of our troops hostage-*"

"They invaded Latveria in violation of the Pact," counters Small Foot, "and your mechs are only alive because von Doom's building a case that the Decepticons broke the Pact even harder."

"Doom can do what he wants with those frags," says Skywarp. "They acted on their own."

"Skywarp is correct, Guardian Kuwari," states Shockwave through the commlink. "The attack on Latveria was unauthorized."

"What efforts were made to advise against their attack, Small Foot?" asks Megatron, scowling.

"Dumper and Pumper were both in the region, Megatron," says Small Foot. "They warned your guys. The Avengers' affiliate group: the Fantastic Four," she continues, glancing at Grimm, who rolls his eyes, "also advised them. Latveria's defense forces warned them-but your troops killed them."

"Hate to say it," says Grimm, "but Doom has every right to melt down your guys."

"Save it, Trucksie," says Skywarp. "We'll be back on Earth."

"The Cybertron Empire has lawful interests on Earth," adds Shockwave, "and we cannot forget the Autobots as enemy subversives of our government."

"As long as the rulers of Earth grant aid and comfort to our enemies," says Megatron, "we're within our rights to maintain a presence on Earth: not only because of the Autobots, but to secure our rightfully-obtained resources."

Megatron's a steaming payload of shorted transistors, says Leader One to himself. "Everything that has happened during this past year-and for the past five years," he says aloud, "is under Senate review on Go-*"

Turbo barges into the Avengers command center. "Turn Megatron off!" he says curtly. "We've got a huge problem at home."

"What kind of-*" begins Leader One. "Hold on, Turbo. Karakawa-san will learn the importance of boundaries today," he adds tersely.

Turbo winces.

"What is so urgent, Karakawa-san," Leader One asks into his commlink, "that you've contacted me on my emergency line?"

"My father's dead!" shrieks Karakawa through the commlink.


Scene: 22

"This will not end well, Director," states MR-01, crouched on the ground; he fiddles with a rock. "Assassinations never do."

"I know your skill thoroughly, MR-01," says MR-07. "Presuming that you gave the appropriate commands," he continues, "no malfeasance will be suspected."

"Why are we on Klyntar?" asks MR-01.

"Because no lifeform with a remote sense of self-preservation wants to be near the native inhabitants," says MR-07, tuning a thermobaric forcefield, "and this field will keep the natives at an appropriate distance."

"Recent field intelligence, in addition to my own," says MR-01, cool, "indicates that the symbiotes are hive-minded: and they have one member of their hive bonded to a highly-inquisitive Earthian."

"We cannot terminate Edward Charles Allan Brock," says MR-07, "as he is a citizen of an allied sector of Earth who is no threat to Gobotron. As to the symbiote," he continues, "it has expressed interest in resolving matters with Lieutenant Senior Soratobi...through a renewal of its bond with her: through Brock."

"This presupposes much," says MR-01. "One, that Soratobi accepts the symbiote's offer; two, that Brock: who as the host still has a measure of independent agency, is willing to pursue this matter with the symbiote, and three, that the symbiote is genuine in its profession of good faith."

MR-07 nods. "The symbiote did state its nominal allegiance to Knull," he says.

"Yet you are confident that it has a stronger allegiance to Brock," muses MR-01.

"In physiology," states MR-07, "based on our contacts with two active Kree operatives and a deserter, "the humans of Earth have high genetic compatibilty with the Kree."

"Yes," says MR-01. "The 'deserter' completed that mission wonderfully...yet it led to the operative's desertion. You would assert that the symbiote: which has bonded with a Kree soldier before," he continues, "would choose Brock over its initial design."

"The symbiote can only truly 'live' as most lifeforms understand it," says MR-07, "with a host. Per the symbiote's own report," he continues, "an ideal host has what Earthians refer to as the X-gene: a beneficial yet rare genetic trait which triggers variable mutations."

"Which is also why that symbiote attempted to summon its peers to Gobotron ten cycles ago," warns MR-01, gazing at the thermobaric forcefield. "Our people not only possess this genetic trait," he continues, "but have the capacity for independent space flight and deep-space interstellar travel."

"The Earthian woman, Anne Weying, will be critical," says MR-07, "to securing the symbiote's primary interest: its present host, Brock."

MR-01 strokes his chin.

"As to the more pressing matter regarding the Senate," continues MR-07, "a special election will be held. It is likely that a political ally of the late Head Senator will assume his vacant seat," he continues, "and that Senator Nanatsuro will not run."


Scene: 23

"Who's next?" asks an American general, gazing at Cliffjumper.

Cliffjumper squares his shoulders. "General Ross," he says, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"I doubt that Megatron-if he wants to subvert our countries-put all of his nanotech eggs in one basket, so to speak," says Ross. "He'd want to hijack or control our technology: like he did with TORQ-III."

"He'd also want to control the different extra-legal vigilante 'civic groups' we have here in America," says Gyrick, adjusting his sunglasses. "With a certain individual's insane stunt," he adds, glaring at Walker, "the Decepticons will now see seizing Earth as their top priority."

"That's true," Cliffjumper frowns. "Any way I can help you without going behind Optimus' back, I'll do it."

"As of now, we just need actionable intel." Ross glances at some notes. "The late 'John Smith'-or rather, Johann Shmidt," he continues, "clearly saw Megatron as a powerful tool."

"To destroy other humans," says Cliffjumper, "by making Megatron a living weapon of mass destruction."

Ross and Gyrick look toward Walker.

Walker grins. "Permission to speak frankly, general?" he asks.

"Granted." Ross nods, returning the smile.

"To be blunt," says Walker, "my temporary resumption of the 'Super-Patriot' identity was a way of thanking the enemy for killing Shmidt: by giving the Decepticons the chance to leave Earth alone with some dignity."

Cliffjumper laughs. "You're fragged! Every Decepticon on the Nemesis hates you," he says, "and you made it even worse."

"The official argument from the Decepticons," says Gyrick, glancing at a copy of the Daily Bugle, "is that Earth is harboring the command and control of their world's terrorist element."

Cliffjumper tenses his fists, trembling as he narrows his optics. "The Decepticons are the terrorists who wiped out our society!" counters Cliffjumper. "Don't let Skywarp twist it! The Autobots are the ones fighting to get our planet back!"

"If I may, General Ross," says Rogers, calm as he studies Cliffjumper. "The Decepticons are natives of Cybertron, correct?"

Cliffjumper winces. "Yeah."

"Then the Decepticons do have a claim to Cybertron," continues Rogers.

"Not when they're the ones destroying it!" Cliffjumper slams his fist into his palm. "Whose side are you on!?"

"The side of the United States of America," says Rogers, cool, "which has fought a bloody and brutal civil war: where Americans did their damnedest to kill each other."

Cliffjumper spreads his arms wide. "One side fighting in your war was right, Rogers-and the other side was wrong!"

"The problem," says Rogers, "is that both sides in any given war believe that they're the 'right side'-and that their enemy is not only wrong, but irredeemably-evil."

"Trust us, Cliff," says Walker. "We 'Earthians' are the foremost experts in war."

"Your current conflict is the third one on your homeworld," adds Gyrick. "Megatron has fought in all three. As an unwashed civilian," he continues, "I think it's a good idea to understand what motivates him."

"What's to understand!?" balks Cliffjumper. "Megatron and the Decepticons want to take over the universe!"

"Granted," says Ross. "I agree that we're getting off-track by trying to figure out what's on Megatron's mind. Let's focus on stopping him from taking over our little corner of the universe."

Cliffjumper sighs, relief in his optics. "Okay. The other subjects after Graydon Creed, Cameron Hodge, and William Stryker would be Simon Trask..."

Trask gasps, blinking at Cliffjumper.

"...and William Burnside," finishes Cliffjumper.

"I neutralized the threat from Burnside," says Rogers, "upon his request."

"That, Captain Rogers," says Gyrick, adjusting his sunglasses, "will be addressed in court martial following our meeting with Cliffjumper."

"Understood," says Rogers.

Walker stares at Rogers. "So it is true...?" he mouths.

Closing his eyes, Rogers nods.

Trask rises to his feet. "I object!" he says. "Simon Trask is my brother; I've known him my whole life! I'd know if he were compromised the way Creed, Hodge, and Stryker were," he continues, "the same way that Creed himself figured it out with Stryker."

"With Stryker, it was obvious when he stayed on the anti-mutant message even when the Decepticons took Honest Abe out of his chair at the Memorial," scoffs Ross. "I've known Stryker for years: a religious nutcase who thinks mutants are the spawn of Satan...who loves America too much to let anyone desecrate our monuments."

"But to think that Shmidt egged Megatron on that far," says Rogers. "I'm sure we're not done with any HYDRA elements yet."

Cliffjumper touches his chin, then snaps his fingers. "Zola, von Strucker-*"

"Strucker's dead," says Fury. "I shot the bastard myself-with a double-tap to confirm the kill."

"HYDRA tends to reach out to other organizations-they've decentralized since my day," says Rogers.

"What was their sick excuse for a 'Green Lantern Oath'...?" Walker scratches his head.

Rogers grimaces. "'Hail HYDRA! Immortal HYDRA! We shall never be destroyed! Cut off a limb and two more shall take its place! We serve none but the master—as the world shall soon serve us! Hail HYDRA!'"

Walker, Ross, Fury, Trask, and Cliffjumper all stare at Rogers; Gyrick takes off his sunglasses, polishing them absently as he blinks at Rogers.

"I screwed up an infiltration attempt because HYDRA has changed up their damned mantra over the decades since I helped smash the first iteration," says Rogers, rubbing his temples, "as the version of the oath I quoted is the one burned into my memory."

"Think they might've found some way to clone you, Cap?" asks Fury. "I know we had to shut down a few of HYDRA's labs over the years..."

"What about Nightbird?" Cliffjumper tenses his fists. "I always found it fishy that a robot built for peaceful purposes had all of those stealth abilities: along with a sword and other onboard weapons."

"I think Fujiyama wanted to show off how advanced human tech got on Earth," says Walker.

"With a bit of help from studying Zero," says Rogers.

"Zola and von Strucker had their hands all over him," says Fury. "HYDRA has Zero's schematics for sure.

"Follow the money," says Ross. "Who financed Fujiyama's research?"

A US Marine general chuckles. "Probably HYDRA's Japanese division-under some benign front company," he muses.

Fury grins. "Savage, you bastard! You're still alive!"

"Unlike you," says the general, Savage, "I have the decency to look my age."

"Glad you have your beard back," says Fury. "You never looked right without it."

Gyrick puts his sunglasses back on; he looks toward Trask, then turns to Cliffjumper.

"We'd have to get permission from Japan's government before we can move in," says Cliffjumper. "Otherwise, the glitch was made into an honorary Decepticon." He slams his fist into his palm.

"Nightbird was abducted and reprogrammed," says Rogers. "We'd need to see what's being done to undo the damage to her."

Cliffjumper stares at Rogers.

"What if we could contact Zero?" says Rogers. "He might be able to reason with Nightbird: turn her against the Decepticons."

"It'll be a problem for the Guardians if Nightbird decides to join the Renegades," says Cliffjumper. "Both Wing Zero-Zero's group-and Bike Hero are back in action since Senator Karakawa's death."

Gyrick nods, then returns his focus to Trask. "Scrap the Sentinel Program," he orders.

"W-what!?" balks Trask, blinking at Gyrick.

"At this juncture, it's clear that the Sentinels could become compromised by the Decepticons," says Gyrick.

Trask straightens his shoulders. "I have a failsafe developed," he says, "as my AI program is nearing completion. It includes a subroutine to automatically initiate a factory reset of all Sentinels to default if there's any errant programming detected within any individual Sentinel unit."

Ross raises an eyebrow, skeptical. "Even if the AI is itself compromised?"

"The AI is housed within a specialized Sentinel unit, so yes," says Trask. "Thus, there's no need to scrap fifteen years of work or waste millions in federal funding because of concerns about Decepticon subversion."

"If it's an AI, it ain't gonna just erase its own memory." Cliffjumper curls his lip components in confusion.


Scene: 24

"Please..." says Leader One over Karakawa's commlink, soft and toneless, "explain what you and Choufunsha-san saw."

"I...came to visit Dad..." says Karakawa, "T-to explain to him that Daiza-san and I were breaking it off, and..." She drops to her knees, trembling.

"May I, Sakura-san?" asks Fitor.

Removing her visor, Karakawa nods.

"We entered the Head Senator's home with the assistance and cooperation of his security personnel," says Fitor in a brisk, businesslike tone, "and found the Head Senator...recently-deceased."

"Why..!?" cries Karakawa. "What happened? Why would he do this!? It doesn't make sense!"

"Let's give the Governor-general time," says Fitor to Karakawa, touching her shoulder. "We'll be outside, Leader One," he says to Leader One over Karakawa's commlink.

"Our personnel will meet with you both shortly," says Leader One. "Take care. Leader One out."

"He has to deal with scrap like this every day," muses Karakawa, her hand trembling as she fumbles with her visor.

Fitor takes Karakawa's visor, setting it in place over her optics. "And because of my stupidity," he says, "our amnesty's rescinded. I'm officially a criminal subversive again."

"Then why are you still here?" asks Karakawa.

"Because I hate wasting time, Sakura-san," says Fitor. "I can only speak for myself," he continues, "but as an individual, I had no hand in...that-and I won't allow the Guardians stationed here in the homeworld to consider it."

"Leader One hasn't even accused you of anything," says Karakawa.

"He knows me," says Fitor. "Were it not for pressing concerns on Earth, he'd vouch for me, but it's not something he can do at the moment."

"Now do you understand, Daiza-san?" asks Karakawa.

"Civic duty, public service..." drawls Fitor. "Sakura-san, I've mainlined all of that since before you were born. I understand, and reluctantly accept our parting." He kisses Karakawa briefly.

Karakawa smiles.

"Damn..." Fitor winces. "Just let me know when you're released from your sentence," he says.

Karakawa gently taps Fitor's arm with her fist. "It's his sentence," she says, smiling with tears in her optics; she adjusts her visor.

A group of Guardians arrive; they approach Karakawa and Fitor. Fitor raises his arms.

"You're not under arrest at this time, Choufunsha," says a Guardian, presenting a datapad.

Fitor lowers his arms, then accepts the datapad; he skims it. "I'm under observation: along with others associated with Bike Hero and Wing Zero," he says, calm.

"Correct," says the Guardian. "Please consider that your warning, with regard to those organizations."

"I will take it under consideration," says Fitor.

"Now," says a second Guardian, "we need to begin questioning, with regard to the Head Senator."

Karakawa and Fitor both nod; they begin their discussion with the group of Guardians.


Scene: 25

"You should run!" says Kup.

"No," says Nanatsuro.

Kup's optics widen.

"I would be in an excellent position to rescind the Pact if I were elected," says Nanatsuro, "and there are too many younger Guardians who would want me there: and would stop at nothing to ensure that I was chosen."

"Would they stage a coup and force a confidence vote within the Senate?" asks Kup.

"Nothing violent," says Nanatsuro. "Just basic-yet unacceptable-election fraud: which would be quickly found out and overturned."

"I'd think that the fact that Senator Karakawa offed himself," says Kup, "proves that he and his political allies can't handle the hot seat of Head Senator."

"I know that this has the stench of Guardian Intelligence," says Nanatsuro, "and my only solace is that I know the current Director has no interest in meddling with electoral affairs-beyond this obvious assassination."

"You're saying the Director ordered a hit on the Head Senator?" balks Kup.

"As a Guardian, he was trained by the previous Director," says Nanatsuro. "However, it's related to an ongoing, classified operation that I can't disclose."

Kup touches his chin. "I'm going to make a guess," he says. "The last thing Senator Karakawa did before he killed himself was kill the Renegades' amnesty-because of Fitor trying to force the Head Senator to scrap the treaty. Having the Renegades as a wild card," Kup continues, "can be a powerful play."

"That's an interesting guess," says Nanatsuro.


Scene: 26

"It's the best opportunity we have," says a steel-gray mech, adjusting his yellow visor.

Ultra Magnus sighs. "I get it," he says. "We need to monitor the people of Earth. They're very good, committed allies."

"You're basing this on a single Earth contact," says the mech, skepticism in his voice, "and your friendship with Optimus Prime."

"I trust Optimus with my life," says Ultra Magnus, "and he trusts me with his. As to the human: John Jonah Jameson, Junior," he continues, "that fellow is determined to make an indelible impression on others."

"My initial impression of Earth," says the mech, "is that it's chaotic. There are several major sectors that control politics on a global, planetary scale," he adds, "but that authority is not absolute. Also, two of the sectors are at war."

"That war is almost over, Vibe," says Ultra Magnus. "Thankfully, our involvement in their conflict was minimal," he continues, "and not instigated by either warring faction: but was the result of an individual Earthian's vanity. That individual, Lord Chumley, was apprehended, and is currently in the USSR's custody."

"This 'Chumley' individual needs to be terminated," says Vibe. "He was able to capture several Autobot operatives, and even two Decepticons."

"Optimus respects the sovereignty of each of Earth's governments," says Ultra Magnus.

"If he intends to avoid a repeat of what happened with our last set of allies-who also had similar divisions that the Decepticons could exploit," says Vibe, "then that will need to change. We need to secure that planet: keep it and its natural resources out of Decepticon control," he adds, "and we must keep our technology out of Earthian hands."

"Or they'll destroy themselves..." sighs Ultra Magnus.

"I'm not concerned if the Earthians settle their own internal conflicts with our weapons," says Vibe. "I just don't want the Earthians to turn our tech and weapons against us-as they have indeed done in the past. One had even fired on his own people with Megatron using our immobilizer design."

"What have you been doing so far?" asks Ultra Magnus.

"I've successfully intercepted the twin-trine that von Doom freed from capture," he says, "after erasing any data he had related to the nanomachine infusions over the past five years."

"What about Megatron's pet project, 'X-23'?" continues Ultra Magnus.

"That Earthian died in spite of my preparations," says Vibe, "and if I attempt to terminate my conscript on Earth, I'll be found out. Optimus never liked me."

"Prime hates your tactics, Vibe," says Ultra Magnus, "and I only tolerate them because they produce results."

"Even though those 'results' amount to us being even more morally-suspect than our enemies," says Hot Rod.

"Neither of us asked your opinion, Hot Rod," says Vibe.

"I'm an Autobot," says Hot Rod. "I think-and speak-for myself. I don't need your permission to give my opinion, Vibe," he continues, "and from what I've seen of these 'Earthians' over the past five cycles, they won't tolerate scrap from the Decepticons or us."

"What do you recommend?" sneers Vibe.

"That we trust the humans of Earth: treat them with the respect they deserve," says Hot Rod.

"The people of Earth have not proven themselves to merit respect in my optical relays," counters Vibe. "These creatures are motivated by malignant self-interest and fear."

"Even with those flaws," counters Hot Rod, "the people of Earth are the main reason we're getting more allies again. Earth is fighting back," he continues, "and they believe in us-trust us. We must continue to maintain that trust."

"I won't endure this disrespect from a junior soldier," says Vibe. "May I take my leave, Ultra Magnus?" he asks.

"You may go," says Ultra Magnus, glaring at Hot Rod.

"I'm right, sir," says Hot Rod. "Vibe is reading Earth wrong," he continues, "and if he continues his scrap on Earth it will get him killed."

"By whom?" asks Ultra Magnus.

"By Autobots stationed on Earth who respect Optimus, are programmed to think like Vibe," says Hot Rod, "and fully-trained to act on that programming."

"The Aerialbots," groans Ultra Magnus.

"That's right," says Hot Rod. "Don't be surprised if Vibe does his underhanded Soundwave-wannabe scrap on Earth and the Aerialbot who groks military encodes frags him."

Ultra Magnus stares at Hot Rod.

"Soundwave can't even get away with too much in his faction," continues Hot Rod, handing Ultra Magnus a datapad.

Magnus briefly skims the datapad. "Arcee's doing good intel work," he says. "According to this, Soundwave's been on light duty since the Devilspawn Incident."

Hot Rod nods. "And because of that crazy Earthian who threw the Nemesis off Earth-wearing what looks like some sad mock-up of a Kree uniform," he says, mirth in his optics, "Soundwave will have time to recuperate."

Ultra Magnus shakes his head. "Don't you think Vibe's criticisms have merit?" he asks.

"Two Earthians are proven to be as suitable as the Kree for Klyntarian symbiotes," says Hot Rod. "As for the Kree: they saw the Earthians as prime breeding stock, with one active Kree agent being half-Earthian."

Ultra Magnus nods.

"Flashpoint was right to be intimidated by them," says Hot Rod. "I'm glad the Earthians are on our side," he adds, "and I want them to stay with us."

"I think individuals like Slingshot might agree with you," says Ultra Magnus. "It must've been a blow to his Class Five ego for this to happen," he continues, presenting a holo-image.

Hot Rod grins. "It looks like the kid made him wear a car grill on his chestplate," he says.

"According to Optimus," says Ultra Magnus, "Slingshot's dedicated. The Aerialbots are a volatile asset. I hope Optimus knows what he's doing with them."


Scene: 27

In the air, Skyfire tosses Starscream a tiny object.

Starscream catches the object, analyzing it. "A small disc made of zinc with an outer coating of cuprum," he says. "It appears to have the face of the human Abraham Lincoln embossed on it," Starscream continues, "and on its obverse, the temple in Washington D. C. dedicated to him. Who is this Lincoln that the humans in this sector revere him so?"

Skyfire grins. "He had his facial likeness carved into a mountain. By hand," he says.

"With three other humans: George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Theodore Roosevelt, Junior," says Starscream.

"What do these four men have in common?" asks Skyfire, his expression thoughtful.

"They were all born in this sector of Earth," says Starscream, "and each served as the sector's ruler."

"I'm happy to get way more than my money's worth," says Skyfire with a grin.

Starscream raises an optic ridge.

"An Earth proverb: a penny for your thoughts," continues Skyfire. "Picked it up from Skywarp."

"It helps him communicate our concerns to the Gobots and their human hosts at UNECOM in Arizona," says Starscream. "We're Cybertron's lawful government, after all."

"Your faction overthrew our lawful government while I was stuck in an iceberg," says Skyfire.

"You're welcome," sneers Starscream.

Skyfire sighs. "Do you have any regrets?" he asks, gazing at Starscream.

"Only that I never managed to kill Megatron after he started the war," says Starscream; he gives Skyfire a thin smile. "Otherwise, I'm all-in for the Cause."

"You're threatening a species of organics capable of producing a succession of leaders: statesmen and warriors-in this sector alone," says Skyfire. "Earthians are a peaceful race nonetheless prepared to fight you to the bitter end."

"Peaceful!?" balks Starscream. "This species' entire history is war! Hell, as enemies," he continues, "Earth creatures are refreshing; it's regrettable that we couldn't have secured them as allies," he continues, "but we need their energy."

Skyfire shakes his head.

"We can't leave now," says Starscream. "One, the Autobots want us pinned here. Two," he adds, "conquering Earth will guarantee us complete control of the universe, which will end the war on Cybertron."

"I'm not coming back," says Skyfire.

"You say that as if I were asking you," says Starscream.

"I was just giving you my answer," says Skyfire, "to stop you from asking in the future."

Starscream laughs, the tone gentle yet unpleasant. "When I do bring you back to our fold," he says after a moment, "I won't ask."

"Really...?" scoffs Skyfire.

"You'll have no choice but to return, dear former friend," says Starscream. "You, and the rest of that so-called Autobot Air Unit. Optimus can keep Powerglide," he continues, "but those fools who merge into Superion are rightfully ours."

"The Aerialbots are Autobots," counters Skyfire. "Skydive was neutral, and of the others, the only one who even had any sympathy toward the Decepticons now hates your internals."

"Don't tool with me, Skyfire," says Starscream. "You've done your research and due diligence on them. You'd be a poor Autobot if you didn't."

"If by that, you mean the classical 'free-thinker' meaning, yes," says Skyfire. "I know the five of them were brought online with stasis fog, and had LAN jacks added to them without their consent. That's concerning," he continues, "but if the Aerialbots accept it, then that's the end of it."

"They're a strong and capable unit," says Starscream, his expression sober. "The Autobots don't deserve them."

"Neither does Megatron," says Skyfire, "and neither do you."

"Those five are sons born from five of the Original Six," says Starscream. "The jack-aft calling himself Slingshot is even more aware of this truth," he continues, presenting a data cube.

Skyfire reviews the data cube. "Enemy soldier with stasis fog...LAN jack without consent..." he mutters, annoyance in his optics.

Starscream folds his arms.

Skyfire tosses the data cube back at Starscream. "Do you expect that to faze me?" he says dismissively.

"I suppose you think I'm lying," says Starscream.

"No, you're telling the truth," says Skyfire. "After all, the Decepticons have proven to be determined to drag any defectors kicking and screaming back into their army," he continues, "willing to deploy Robo-Smashers and use other dirty tactics to recruit others-even if it destroys friendships: and cities. I can't feign surprise about Autobot readiness to do the same."

"Crystal City: an engineering marvel," says Starscream, "but also a resource-intensive waste."

"Art is never a waste," says Skyfire. "We've sunk so far as a people, Starscream."

Starscream studies Skyfire.

"But I have hope," Skyfire continues. "Let's kill Megatron together."

"I'll humor you," says Starscream, a wry grin on his face. "What's your plan for the mech with the fusion cannon that can annihilate main sequence stars like Sol?" he continues, pointing up towards the sun.

"Hire an expendable merc outfit as fusion cannon fodder," says Skyfire, "and while Megatron's focused on them, we unload on him. After that," he continues, "you can just blame me for the kill, then order a retreat from Earth to regroup on Cybertron."

Starscream nods, smiling.

"I admit what I did on my end to Optimus," continues Skyfire, "then convince him to leave Earth: after we get all of our tech off the planet."

"Aren't the Earthians a 'peaceful race'?" asks Starscream with a mocking lilt.

"Peaceful relative to the rest of the organics in the universe, frag-off," says Skyfire, "and they're still grappling with the same problems we are: compounded by the fact that they're still stuck in their native solar system with their own tech."

Starscream laughs briefly.

"I'm confident that Earth's people will catch up with the Guardians' help," says Skyfire. "Come on, Starscream: what do you say?"

Starscream sighs, then fires his null ray at Skyfire. "No," he says, a sad expression in his optics as he watches Skyfire fall to the ground.

Starscream transforms. My terms, Skyfire, he says to himself as he flies off, not yours.

END SPECIAL NINE