Ultra Magnus
The five factory owners, three of which possessing multiple manufacturing plants, and the four plant managers representing facilities with owners less willing or able to deal with their business's concerns, were waiting in the lobby for an opportunity to meet with the new Emir of the Tagan Heights. The massive royal now entering the lobby nodded to them as the door behind him slid shut and would have prayed that they leave him alone and save their grievances for the Emir had he been the praying type. Ultimately he knew that with or without divine intervention, such a hope was too great. As if to tease him, the visiting captains of industry remained silent as he passed through the room, allowing him to nearly reach the door on the opposite end before…"Lord Magnus, a word please?"
Ultra Magnus stopped, allowed himself a grimace before smoothing his facial features and turning to face the industrial magnate that had called out to him. "Highbrow, it is good to see you again. I assume you are here to see the Emir and address your liege lord's interests in the industrial quadrant."
"Why yes sir, we are all here to address concerns related to the industry of the Tagan Heights." The blue and white robot replied, waving over the other robots present. "We have all been here for hours, but your royal kinsman has been attending to his newfound…religiosity."
"Bah, religion!" Another robot grumbled while facing away from them. "Mythological nonsense used by a witch to hypnotize our young leader into doing her bidding."
The optics of Highbrow and every other visitor in the room stretched wide. "My lord, that opinion is most assuredly not shared by…"
"Don't worry." Ultra Magnus interrupted. "It is not the first time I've heard such an opinion. I will talk to Delta Magnus now to see when he will be able to meet with you, and hopefully to dispel such concerns that he is under the sway of anyone, witch or otherwise." With that the hulking robot took the opportunity to walk through the door and leave the room. He marched down the hallway toward the voices he heard ahead.
"Primus, the lord of light, order and creation, has chosen you." A feminine voice flowed out of the doorway at the end of the hall. "I have sensed the greatness within you. A greatness that I have never felt before. It is you that is destined to be the Prime of Salvation, the Devourer of the Devourer, the Eroder of Chaos. Why are you so resistant to accept this fact?"
"There is already a Prime, and I am honor-bound to serve him loyally." The familiar voice of Delta Magnus emerged, his contradictory tone a welcome sound to Ultra who was just reaching the room.
"A Prime chosen by a corrupt senate." The voice replied as Ultra Magnus turned into the room, the sweet, musical voice belonging to an exceptionally tall femme garbed in flowing pliable metal capes molded to her shoulders. "Sentinel Honorum lacks the honor, integrity, and most importantly, he lacks a spark that burns with the very fires of Primus himself, a spark that I can feel pulsing deep within you. The Matrix would never choose one such as him, but you, you are the one that it was created to bond with."
"I do not recall the Prime's of old requiring an ignis superius in order to be chosen by the matrix." Ultra Magnus offered with unconcealed skepticism from the doorway. "Though I suppose discussing any required prerequisites for bonding with it is moot, as it was unfortunately lost long before the one it was apparently created to bond with was born."
Delta Magnus looked past the priestess, a priestess that was two feet taller than he and his equally massive kinsman, and smiled. "Hello Ultra. Is there something I can help you with?"
"There are nine individuals representing the interests of our manufacturing sector in the front solarium, and they have been waiting there several hours to meet with the newly chosen Emir." Ultra Magnus replied. "I underst… I respect your desire to find religion, my liege, but your new position comes with responsibilities that greatly limit your free time."
"I really wish you would not call me your liege." Delta Magnus responded. "Had I known you would start doing that I never would have accepted the nomination last month."
"You are the Emir of the Tagan Heights now." Ultra Magnus countered. "It is the proper way to address you. I also have a matter of my own to discuss with you…when you're done with the Mistress of Flame."
"It is the Lord Primus that has business with your Emir," the tall femme replied with a not entirely warm smile, "I am merely his mouthpiece."
"Well if Lord Primus and his mouthpiece would not mind, I would like to discuss an official matter with the Emir." Ultra Magnus replied keeping his gaze on Delta Magnus.
"By all means, speak your mind brother, but the Mistress of Flame stays." Delta Magnus replied, smiling graciously at Ultra. "She has become a trusted advisor, and provides perspectives unknown to others."
Ultra Magnus turned and looked the tall priestess over warily, but after a long pause nodded and decided to continue. "I wish for the Tagan Heights to formally protest the planned execution of the Autobots that attacked Sentinel Prime."
Delta Magnus's optics widened in surprise. "Planned execution? I was unaware that they had even gotten around to the trial yet."
"Exactly." Ultra Magnus replied. "While held in the presence of senators, it was virtually a secret until after the verdict and sentence had been handed down."
"That's not due process." Delta Magnus muttered quietly, looking down deep in thought as he did so.
"Exactly." Ultra Magnus punctuated, growing excited as his kinsman seemed to be readopting his passion and respect for the law.
"A matter to be addressed informally with the Prime," the Mistress of Flame chimed in, "but there is nothing to be gained from a formal protest. Ultimately they are but commoners; commoners that strive to remove your rightful authority over them."
"I do not wish to champion their cause, Mistress." Ultra Magnus chimed in. "But capital trials have criteria that needs to be met, and in this case that criteria was ignored."
"They attacked the Prime," Delta snapped, "it's difficult to feel sorry for them, much less initiate a protest on their behalf."
"They attacked with glue canons." Ultra growled. "Punishment is due, execution most definitely is not."
"I disagree." The Mistress of Flames calmly replied. "An attack on the Prime, even an unworthy Prime, is more than just an assault on an individual, it's an assault on the symbol of all we hold sacred. The Prime is a representation of our ties to Primus himself."
"I guess we'll agree to disagree about the justice of it;" Ultra Magnus replied tersely, "justice is more a passion of the Pax's anyway. But House Magnus has always been a champion of law, and in this case the law has been circumvented!" Ultra then turned to his Emir. "And this is not the first time Sentinel Prime has attempted to bypass due process to serve his own agenda. Were it not for the illegal distribution of footage by the comrades of the condemned, a noble and law abiding commoner would be languishing in prison right now for doing nothing more than his job." The younger powerhouse took a step toward Delta before continuing in a quieter voice. "Tell me you weren't enraged by what he tried to do to Orion. And when thwarted, what they did manage to do to him."
"The Emir must choose his battles." The Mistress of Flame spoke out. "There will be a time to challenge the pretender, but this is not the time."
"Sentinel Prime is bypassing the laws to serve his personal needs and desires with increasing frequency." Ultra Magnus countered, still staring at his kinsman. "This is a battle that House Magnus must engage in."
Delta Magnus met Ultra's stare and held it for several moments before turning to the Mistress of Flames and locking optics with her. He finally turned back to Ultra. "What Sentinel Prime is doing is wrong, I agree brother, but we must not lose sight of the big picture." Delta turned and walked away from his kinsman toward the Mistress of Flame. "If sacrifices must be made to ensure the true destiny of our planet, then so be it." Delta was quiet for a few seconds before finishing. "The Tagan Heights will take no official stance on these proceedings at this time."
Ultra Magnus stared in disbelief at the back of his kinsman's head for several moments before noting the grin on the face of the Mistress of Flame. "An official protest has already been issued by House Pax. I will add my name to theirs. I will make it clear that I stand on my own, and do not represent House Magnus."
"You will not." Delta replied without turning around. "I forbid you from doing so."
"You forbid me?" Ultra replied, shock evident in his voice, but he bit his metal lip and nodded. "As you command, my liege."
"Send in the representatives of the industrial sector."
Nightbeat
The blue and yellow robot waited patiently in the pilot seat of his small, but exceptionally well-equipped spacecraft as it hovered in orbit over a dense jungle world, the green and blue only interrupted by the cloud cover. After several moments a voice came through the speaker. "What do you have for me?"
"Greetings Prime, I apologize for the delay in my reporting, it's just that the Galactic Council seems very interested in what I may have to say to you, so I've had to go a bit out of my way to be sure I can send this without it getting intercepted or overheard." Nightbeat explained.
"Fine, just tell me what you've learned." Sentinel Prime's voice impatiently replied.
"Just two things of note. First, I've uncovered a brief note regarding the Manifest archived deep within the Galactic Council's files, something that they tried to hide from me. Secondly, I made contact with a pirate who accused Guardian Prime, apparently quite accurately, of setting about in an attempt to colonize other worlds, and with the exception of the Junk planet, have in part or in whole displaced the native life forms of those worlds." The detective reported. "I'm currently over a world called Eukaris, perhaps the least intrusive occupation on Cybertron's part, aside from the previously uninhabited planet of Junk where we set up a colony. Our Eukarian cousins seem to have developed their society without too much impact to the native flora and fauna…though that may be in part due to the lack of higher level life forms on this world."
"Am I supposed to give a shit about the native life forms?" Sentinel's voice snapped back. "Are they even mechanical?"
"Not on Eukaris, but we've colonized mechanical worlds." Nightbeat replied. "As to why you should care, Guardian Prime doing a lot more than just exploration and diplomacy caught the attention of other species, and knowing that his ventures out into space started far earlier and utilized far more in the way of manpower and resources than we believed could raise questions that we would be well served having answers for. There are armies out there on our unknown colonies, armies consisting of what appears to be pre-existing Cybertronians and protoforms birthed on these worlds. All of which lends credence to the archived text I found within the Galactic Council databases. The only truly solid piece of evidence pertaining to the Manifest's fate."
"And…?"
"Forwarding to you now, my Prime." Nightbeat pressed a button to send the message. "Basically someone claiming to be Primon sent a warning not to seek out the Manifest in the Benzuli Expanse. Of course, Primon had been dead for some time by that point…"
"Primon?" Sentinel gasped, and Nightbeat noticed that his reaction wasn't how he had anticipated. He had expected Sentinel's voice to convey a large degree of skepticism, but this reaction was as though the Prime genuinely believed this to be a legitimate possibility. "You're certain?"
"You're in possession of the message, that's all I have to go on. It provides a location, granted, an extremely vast location, as well as a motive, provided there's any veracity to the author's claims." Nightbeat replied before pressing. "Is there something regarding Primon's fate that the common people lack awareness of?"
There was a pause before Prime's swift, dismissive reply. "No, of course not. Primon was long dead. Tell me what you know of the Benzuli Expanse!"
"Almost impossible to quantify, it's basically an enormous pocket in space where all but the tiniest few attempts to scan have come back fruitless." Nightbeat answered. "But a race called the Lithone have managed to conduct a few deep scans into the expanse, and one of these scans came back indicating an object of roughly the dimensions and mass of the Manifest was deep within."
"Primus, you've found it!" Sentinel Prime gasped.
"Well, Your Grace, I'm not so sure." Nightbeat replied. "I've taken the data and brought it before over two dozen experts on the subject matter, and all of them came back with the same conclusion that my own estimates led me to; it's not physically possible for the ship to be there. At least, not without being obliterated."
"Well obviously Primon was smarter than these experts of yours!" Prime snapped back. "Alpha Trion was regarded as the greatest scientist of his age, of perhaps any age!"
Nightbeat was a little taken aback by Prime's apparent acceptance of the message-sender's claimed identity, but withheld a reaction to it. "That very well may be true, but I get the feeling that this may be a red herring."
"A red herring?" Prime replied. "OK, maybe you're right, maybe you're not. Follow the Benzuli Expanse possibility all the way through to the end before looking into other places that it could have been leading you away from should it not pan out."
"Your Grace, there's really no way for me to follow this through." Nightbeat replied. "And even if there were some way to confirm it being there, there's no way for me to gain entry to obtain the Matrix."
"If it's there, then somebody figured out a way to get it there!" Prime snapped. "Find their footsteps and then follow them!"
"Alright, my Prime, but should it prove to be a false lead, know that I'm pretty much back to square one with finding the Manifest." Nightbeat responded.
"I was informed that you were the best detective we had!" Prime snarled. "Obviously that's not the case if you have nothing to show for the investment of time, resources and faith I've devoted to you. Accomplish your mission, or don't bother coming back!"
Nightbeat quietly sighed. "Understood, your Grace. Nightbeat out." He reached forward and flipped off the channel.
Soundwave
Scrapper's construction team had been reluctant to accept this assignment initially, but that apprehension had clearly passed as Soundwave watched them enact their carefully crafted plan of utilizing local materials to construct the modules that would be used to form the arena that the evening's contests would be held in. The designs were brilliant, simple shapes that connected in specific ways to create the larger, fairly complex structure; and then, once the event was over and the structure deserted, it was easily destroyed, looking like nothing more than large piles of rubbish, a common site in these minor Polyhexian cities. This particular occasion was the first true test of the disposable structures, so there was no shortage of apprehension about whether they would be strong enough to hold the crowds, yet light and pliable enough to be dismantled without leaving a trace as to its true purpose or designers. But the primary designer, Hook of House Narkissos, was beyond confident his designs would work flawlessly.
Members of House Narkissos were typically arrogant, and Hook was no exception. But unlike most of the members of that ancient House, one that according to legend was perhaps the most powerful and influential House on Cybertron prior to the rise of the Knights and the Houses they sired, Hook's arrogance had merit. He truly was brilliant, perhaps the most skilled designer on the planet, and a prodigy at the healing arts as well. His attitude of entitlement and superiority, sometimes even displayed against members of the royal House of Torrent, would have likely gotten him killed, or at least punished until a large degree of humility had been driven into him, were his skills not such as to make him invaluable to the descendants of Knight Fluctus. The greatest recent structures in Harmonex were due in some part to him, so his arrogance was tolerated…thus far. And his associate Scrapper, another noble of the less ancient and impressive House Masonus, knew his place and provided his betters with their due respect, asking only for their patience when dealing with Hook. His humility had purchased Hook many a pardon.
"My lord?" Scrapper called out as he approached Soundwave. Despite genuinely enjoying his talks with the low noble, Soundwave was annoyed at the approach; he wished to speak with Megatron as soon as was possible, but he had no valid reason not to speak with Scrapper.
"Yes Scrapper?"
"My lord, I would like to once again thank you for this opportunity. The payment is, well, it's exceptional." Scrapper addressed him gratefully before taking a more hesitant tone. "But there is another matter that I feel I need to discuss with you."
"Yes, what is it?" The impatient Soundwave replied.
"As you know, your kinsman Shockwave has been conducting research on the sparks of my crew and I, what he has referred to as an affinity of sorts for each other that enables us to be more productive or something." Scrapper explained. "So far it's just been spark scans, us doing stuff on our own, then doing stuff with each other nearby, and that sort of thing; and based on what I've seen, I'm convinced he may be on to something. But he's suggesting, almost insistently, that the only way to progress his hypothesis is to conduct alterations to our frames to see if physical integration between us can push the output of our sparks to even higher levels, and frankly, that's not something any of us are comfortable with."
Though he truly did not wish to get in the way of Shockwave or his experiments, Soundwave also did not wish to compromise the asset that Scrapper's team represented. "I will speak with Shockwave. For now, focus on the task at hand."
"Thank you, my lord." Scrapper gratefully replied before turning back to the fabrication of the temporary arena.
Soundwave continued on toward Megatron just up ahead past several other gladiators, handlers and other individuals linked to the fight circuit. Megatron turned and smiled at the noble approaching him. "Greetings Lord Soundwave, it is good to see you again."
Soundwave nodded, a feeling of discomfort coming over him at hearing the magnificent gladiator refer to him as lord. Despite the circumstances of their respective births and subsequent societal standings, it seemed more appropriate for Soundwave to be submissively addressing Megatron as such. "Megatron, I request a word, if you please."
"Of course my friend." Megatron replied, gently placing his hand on Soundwave's shoulder and directing him away from the bustle of preparing for the fighting tournament. Once far enough away from anyone to avoid being overheard, Megatron continued. "What's on your mind Soundwave?"
"My Lord…" Soundwave began unconsciously, but realizing what he said he looked up to an also surprised Megatron. After a moment Soundwave continued with an explanation. "We play our roles in public, but I fully recognize which of us is greater, and not only do I accept that, I embrace it. I do have a high opinion of myself, my worth derived from my abilities and potential contributions, but I acknowledge that you might very well be the greatest of us. In public we must play our roles, but in the absence of others, I pledge myself to you."
Though a ground shaking admission for their society, Megatron was not altogether stunned to hear it, and aside from his initial optic-stretch at hearing himself referred to as lord, he made no show of surprise. "You recognize that such a statement could lead to your ostracism, and likely much worse for me."
"It is merely the stating of a fact, but yes, I realize that in this very flawed world of ours, actions to squash such a sentiment would come quickly and harshly were it to get out." Soundwave replied. "Prior to meeting you, I would likely have championed the squashing, but having encountered a commoner who is greater than…anyone I have ever known, I find my worldview shifted significantly. Only one other has come close to you in my estimation, and he attained his impressiveness in large part to the resources his high birth granted him. You…your greatness is attributable solely to you. I only wish to know how you plan to direct your greatness, and what role I can play in serving that goal."
Megatron peered deeply into Soundwave's joined optic quietly for several seconds before responding. "I wish to destroy this society of ours. The idea of a pecking order based on the location of birth is…" Megatron shook his head in disgust, "absurd. But I am no Autobot either. They fight for equality for all, but all are not equal and therefore should not be treated as such. The exceptional are of far greater value than the mean, and those sub-average individuals are a detriment and should be removed. A multitude of traits can contribute to one's overall value; strength, intelligence, speed, endurance, courage and so on. I am not so myopic as to elevate only the strong, or only the smart; but I will look at the overall contribution one can make when determining their place in our new society, and the mediocre, no matter what pit they emerged from, will likely not have a place in it." Megatron gave a small smile and a chuckle. "Or perhaps cannon fodder as we fight to create this society. As to what role you will play, I'm not entirely sure yet, but being a high noble that I trust completely will be immensely valuable to our cause early on, and that trust as well as your intellect and astounding abilities will keep you at my side going forward after that." Megatron then shrugged. "But we are still just planning our initial steps, there is a long way to go before we tear this world asunder."
Soundwave paused for a moment. "I've heard similar philosophies."
Megatron nodded as they both looked out over the bustle of the quickly forming arena. "Oh, from where?"
"From the only other Cybertronian that has come close to you in my estimation." Soundwave replied. "My kinsman Shockwave."
Megatron nodded. "Perhaps he and I should meet."
Sentinel Prime
"Your Grace, I have Prowl waiting on the line for you."
Sentinel Prime raised his optics from the prototype fusion rifle schematics on the data pad in his hand to look upon the sleek long orange legs of his personal assistant. His optics traveled up, over her shapely white torso, admiring her orange arms, upper chest and neck, the golden protrusions coming off her orange head, and her beautiful face, with large blue optics peering adoringly back at him. "Thank you Bayonet, I'll take it in my office." Prime gazed upon her a bit more, she was stunning to look at, but completely devoid of any real substance. Being the Prime meant that he could hire whoever for whatever he pleased, and he was taking full advantage of that perk. He finally pulled his optics from her, entering his office and signaling for the door to shut behind him. He marched over, sat at his desk and paused a moment before opening the communication channel. "What is it Prowl?"
"Excuse my subterfuge, but I'm afraid that if I told your assistant who I really was, she wouldn't put me through." The familiar voice emerged through the desk-top speaker.
Prime glared at the small communications array for a moment before replying. "I suppose I should be thankful you opted for a call rather than to surprise me in person like you did last time, Primon."
"I gather from the sarcasm in your voice, as well as your subtle yet obvious attempts to get Orion Pax killed, that you still doubt my claims." A-Three's voice responded.
"I have doubts, though I haven't dismissed your claims." Sentinel Prime relaxed, and even adopted a genuine smile. "While I've been seriously entertaining the possibility that you're telling the truth, I'm still not convinced that you're the real Primon the Abdicator. Oh, I know that you are old, well older than I am, that you are exceptionally resourceful, and that you've adopted the identity of Primon long before meeting me. But whatever the case may be, A-Three, Polyhistor of Tyger Pax, I'm glad that you contacted me."
"Oh, why is that?" The annoyed voice replied.
"We have much to discuss." Prime replied. "In our last meeting I was at a bit of a loss, having been caught totally off guard, having no knowledge of you or anything about you, and having been physically immobilized. To say you had me at a disadvantage would be an understatement."
"Aside from lacking any need to immobilize you this time, I don't see what's changed." A-Three replied.
Prime chuckled as he responded. "Oh, I've learned a bit about who you are and what your agenda was and likely still is. And most importantly, whatever leverage that you think you may have had has been completely offset by a certain communiqué that you sent to the Galactic Council one million years ago, one all but admitting your responsibility in sabotaging the Manifest, and murdering Gal…Guardian Prime." Sentinel Prime smiled as his accusation was met with nearly twenty seconds of silence.
"I've murdered no one." Came the reply.
"Sabotaging equipment, forced confinement and starvation equate to murder!" Sentinel Prime snarled at the speaker.
The voice came back more confidently. "I am guilty of the first two accusations you just made, but not the third. In time, Cybertron will advance to the point where the actions of Guardian Prime, Galvatron and their ilk can be brought to light, looked at dispassionately, and they will be judged for the atrocities they've committed; but our world still has a long way to go before we get to that point, and until then the crew of the Manifest will be kept safe, as the universe will be kept safe from them."
It was time for Sentinel Prime to sit in stunned silence for nearly half a minute. "You…you mean that they may still be alive?"
"I have no reason to believe that they aren't." A-Three came back. "To be honest, I have not been keeping tabs. But barring outside interference, they should theoretically be fine; though completely subdued and out of the picture, so do not fear, Sentinel, your status should remain unchanged for the time being. Should Gallus Honorum returns to reclaim his title, it won't be my doing."
"You assume I value my role as Prime more than my duty to my kinsman and last Matrix-bearer? I assure you, that is an incorrect assumption." Sentinel Prime bluffed.
"It seems we've both made claims that the other is not entirely convinced of then." A-Three responded. "But know that even if I do believe you, should you continue to endanger Orion Pax I will come forward, identify myself, lay claim to the title of Prime, and reveal to the world the dishonesty, dishonor and brutality of both you and your ancestor Guardian Prime. If that means that I must answer for my crimes, then so be it. My legacy will be irreparably damaged, as will yours, and once I've laid out the evidence, Guardian Prime's will as well. But the reputation of Orion Pax is unblemished, and is growing throughout the planet for the work he's done in Rodion. So far your attempt to get him killed has only increased his standing in the optics of all."
"His success in Rodion works in my favor." Sentinel grumbled. "Had he gone there and languished, or been maimed or killed, your claims of it being an attempt on my part to dispose of him might have held some weight. But the impact he's had in that shithole only confirms that I saw untapped potential and made good use of it, nothing more. Whereas you coming forward will either lead to confirmation that you're a fraud, or that you are who you say, but who you say is the murderer of our planet's greatest and most beloved leader and hero! Beyond that, what do you have? Evidence that I can be harsh, arrogant, and primarily interested in the noble and ruling classes? That's expected of a good Prime!"
"Spin it how you wish, but either you see to Orion's safety, or your time as Prime will be very short." A-Three replied, showing sincerity, but lacking the authority he once had.
"You have been defanged, old man, take your threats and shove them up your ass!" Sentinel Prime snapped before severing the connection. The Prime leaned back in his chair, swiveled around to peer out over downtown Iacon, and peered deeply at the buildings around him. "So much for the little shield that island born shit used to have."
Shockwave
The shuttle touched down and Shockwave rose to his feet, making no comment to the pilot as he stepped out of the cockpit and marched to the opening door, striding through it onto the still lowering gangplank. He stepped onto cyber-firma seconds later and approached the small party there waiting for him. "Greetings Soundwave, I hope you've summoned me here for more than just some fighting tournament."
Soundwave stepped forward from the group of two others. Of the others, Shockwave recognized Starscream of House Nexus, the powerful looking chrome robot was unknown to him. "Greetings Shockwave, yes, I have not brought you here to watch gladiators fight, but to listen to one speak."
Shockwave peered at Soundwave silently for several moments before responding. "Soundwave, I respect you, more so than any other member of House Torrent. I hope that I'm not on the cusp of changing that assessment."
"From what I've heard, Shockwave, you are supposedly devoid of hope…or joy, fear or anything else that makes life interesting." Lord Starscream interjected.
Shockwave turned his lone optic toward Starscream for only a moment before directing it toward the unknown individual. "I have no interest in hearing any further from Starscream Nexus, so I hope it is you that Soundwave summoned me here to listen to."
The unknown robot smiled. "It is, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Shockwave."
"Lord Shockwave to you." Starscream hissed. "We all think highly of you Megatron, but you are a commoner addressing your better."
Megatron turned his head and glared at Starscream. "I have yet to see evidence that anyone is my better." The gladiator hissed at the winged noble before turning back to Shockwave and took a far more amicable demeanor. "That said, there is no doubt that Shockwave is worthy of titles and great respect, but it is not due to being born into a particular house. His greatness is derived from his ability, his efforts, and his ambition."
Shockwave studied this Megatron for a moment before turning to look at Soundwave. "You have shared with him the philosophies I have espoused?"
"Negative." Soundwave replied. "Your philosophies and those of Megatron are similar, but were derived independently of one another. I heard similar things from the two most impressive individuals I have ever met, and felt it necessary to bring the two of you together."
"And Starscream's presence?" The dismissive question earned Shockwave a glare from the winged Altihexian.
"As a lowborn who ascended to a position of nobility through…whatever means," Megatron began answering, "Soundwave and I felt that Starscream would be like-minded with us in this philosophy that station should be derived from one's abilities and contributions, and not birthplace. He has also developed an extensive network of contacts throughout the nobility, with the more influential common folk, and with the power-wielders in both legitimate and criminal businesses." The chrome gladiator displayed a sly grin as he continued. "And he holds a tremendous amount of sway over the Emir of Altihex."
"The rumors of Pathos Nexus's infatuation with Starscream have reached even my disinterested audio receptors." Shockwave replied. "The question of his trustworthiness remains."
Starscream displayed a look of feigned indignation at the suggestion that he wasn't trustworthy, but Megatron replied before he could say anything. "Starscream has many secrets, things he would never want to be revealed, and I am in possession of several of them."
"Bah." Starscream belted out a chuckle. "You have nothing on me, Tarnian."
Megatron smiled as he looked over at Starscream. "At seeing me in action and feeling that I may be the one to defeat the Simfurian dragon, thus giving him something to ridicule Ogrus Onyx over, Branus Modus invited me to a private meal with him. And as you may or may not know, Branus enjoys his engex almost as much as he enjoys shit-talking other nobles. He may have let a thing or two slip regarding a conversation you may have had with Zeta Prime." Starscream's optics stretched wide in shock and horror, but he remained silent as Megatron turned back to Shockwave. "And if blackmail doesn't work, well, I can always have him killed."
"That doesn't explain why you summoned me here." Shockwave interrupted the less than subtle power-play between the two. "I am not an aficionado of conversation, as Soundwave should know quite well, so what is it that you hope to advance to from discussing our shared feelings on determining one's worth?"
Megatron peered deeply into Shockwave's lone optic. "I seek to advance our feelings from taboo philosophy to the formal law of a new and better Cybertronian society. But this is something that will never be voted in, there will be no groundswell of peaceful support that will change the system. The existing system cannot be adapted to accommodate our new world order, no, it will need to be obliterated, torn down and its remains scorched to non-existence. Only from its ashes can we build our utopia, a world that will celebrate, reward, and bend to the exceptional while the mediocre facilitate the continuous improvements that the exceptional will spearhead. And those that are sub-par, well, if we truly aspire to greatness, we cannot allow them to encumber us with their consumption."
Shockwave studied Megatron for several moments before responding. "While there's little physical evidence to support it, it has been suggested that our society started, and has restarted in much the same way. House Macht has frequently used this idea as a justification for their place in society; that greatest of us arose and forged our society, and took their rightful places in power, and those forged of the same material must be the Ubermech as well, and therefore fit to rule."
Megatron nodded. "The first part of that sentiment is accurate; those that through their exceptionalness improve or create the society, are likely the most fit to oversee what they've created. But while I do believe that there are Ubermech, they emerge from those with potential far greater than what the average individual is born with, and who are able and willing to channel these innate abilities, this 'force' that they've been born with, into actual 'power'. There are many on our world, a tiny fraction of our population have such potential, and only a tiny fraction of those gifted few that have the 'will to power' to hone that potential into greatness. Those that fall into this tiny fraction of a tiny fraction are the Ubermech, and their power is not derived from the pool they emerged from or a clan name. I've seen too many mediocre or sub-mediocre elite and too many exceptional commoners to ever entertain such a suggestion."
Shockwave studied Megatron some more. "Agreed. Perhaps discussing things with you might prove fruitful after all."
Megatron smiled and waved Shockwave over to a building where they could sit and talk. "Perhaps together we can come up with a plan to make our desires a reality."
Militus Macht
Allowing the fighting circuit to have an event within the borders of Polyhex put him at great risk, but the financial reward was substantial, and the increased influence he would wield once he demonstrated how capable he was at putting on an extravaganza superior to the other southern emirates. The event that would be taking place the next day was just outside of Rodion, and he had left Megatron, who had become perhaps his most trusted and competent underling, to see to the details. In moments of boredom Militus sometimes wondered how Megatron had proven to be so competent at nearly everything, yet had only achieved mediocre scores on his intelligence tests. The Emir of Polyhex had even considered the possibility that his star gladiator may have played dumb during the testing, but quickly dismissed that ridiculous possibility.
He marched out of his office to sit in his private garden. He was deep within Castle Macht, only other members of House Macht and their most trusted and essential assistants were permitted here in this section, and nobody other than Militus ever entered this particular open-air garden. He turned off all transmission receivers to his personal frame and prepared for a few moments of quiet meditation. Life as the Emir of Polyhex was hectic, he loathed those that meditated on a regular basis, ridiculed them mercilessly, but truth be told, he found the practice to be helpful in calming his nerves, putting things into perspective, and recharging his dedication to his job. He just hoped nobody would ever see him doing it.
"Emir Macht?" The feminine voice belonged to Militus's personal assistant and data depository, File. Militus activated his optics and turned to glare at the commoner who had dared to enter the garden. She winced at his expression, but stood her ground. "I know I shouldn't be here, my lord, but you had cut all reception and I had no other way of contacting you."
"Then you wait." Militus grumbled as he ominously strode toward her. "Whatever it is could have waited."
"It's Sentinel Prime, my lord," File spat out, bracing herself for a strike but hoping the statement would prevent one, "and he insisted that it couldn't."
As hoped, the statement stopped Militus's strike. "I'll take it in my office." He grumbled as he marched past her. "I had better never see you in this garden again."
Moments later Militus entered his office and sat behind his desk, activating the communications array in the center of his desk. "Good afternoon, Sentinel Prime, I apologize for keeping you waiting. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"
"I would like to follow up on a favor I asked of you." Sentinel Prime's no-nonsense voice came back immediately.
"I live to serve, my Prime." Militus replied with a look of disgust on his face. "To which favor are you referring?"
"I think you're aware of the favor in question." Prime stated.
"Yes, my Prime, but you stated it needed to convincingly appear as though it occurred in the line of duty, or was an accident." Militus replied defensively. "He has proven to be far more resilient than expected. And because he has been repeatedly thrown into impossible situations and come out successful, he's made quite a name for himself. The people of Rodion consider him a hero, and his reputation is spreading quickly. I'm afraid that all…subtle…attempts have come up short. He's even won the grudging respect of the Overlord, who I've learned has put his attempts to kill him on hold as he tries to recruit him."
"Then it's time to get less subtle." Prime growled. "Eradicate him, I want him dead. Nothing as obvious as Macht security forces gunning him down, but feel free to use any means necessary short of that to kill him. But given your failure to this point, make sure that whoever you get to do it is beyond competent. This cannot be botched again!"
Militus nodded. "Of course Prime. I'll make the arrangements, by this time next week he will be a corpse."
"He'd better be." Prime grumbled before severing the connection.
Militus stared down at his desk for a moment before pressing a button. A moment later File's voice came through the speaker. "Yes, Emir Macht?"
"Get me Megatron."
Polar Claw
The canoe glided quietly over the water, the only object other than ice and snow to be visible on the sea, and the large bear watched it as it slid by in the distance, both he and the two Inuit paddling it regarding each other with a curious but respectful glance. They knew there was something different about him, their ancestors had referred to him as Nanuk; some of their ancestors had even seen his true form, leading to legends that polar bears were actually men in disguise. Granted, they'd have had to be men far more enormous than they were used to…and metal…and predominantly bright red. Of course, he was a lot more careful than his companion who'd taken the form of a brown bear. His indiscreet transformations in both the Himalayas and southwestern Canada/northwestern United States had led to more 'monster' sightings than he could count, and Barbearian…Grizzly-1, or whatever the hell he wanted to call himself these days, seemed to keep getting caught in bot mode well into recent decades.
The larger than normal polar bear continued trudging through the ice, wearily maintaining his vigil of the Polar Regions for a threat he hoped would not return. It had been over one hundred fourteen centuries since the last of the Beast Wars had ended, but there was no telling if or when another colonial warlord would come looking for what they knew to be hidden on this planet. As it stood, he still had to determine how best to categorize and deal with the structure he had recently found buried deep within the ice. Based on its shape, size and what few readings he could get from it, it could possibly be another Cybertronian, granted, one a good deal larger than the average Cybertronian, vastly larger than he or most other Maximals, and given its position in the ice, he, she or it likely arrived here long before he and his team did.
It was only a few dozen miles from his current position, and he considered traveling out to examine the sensors he'd set up to monitor and evaluate the structure; after all, it wasn't like there was much else for him to do. But just as he started to head out toward the anomaly a beep went off in his head, one alerting him to an incoming message waiting for him back at the headquarters. "Ugh." The grunt wasn't intended to sound bear-like, but it did none the less. Perhaps it was related to the long established fact that instincts and behaviors of the life forms of scanned DNA incorporated into Cybertronian frames seeped into the personalities of those Cybertronians. Or perhaps Polar Claw was just a grumpy old soldier.
A half hour later he trudged through the cavern that led down to where the ship that had brought them to this planet over a million years before. A series of scanning lasers darted out and strafed the outside of the bear, determining his identity and allowing him to proceed to the opening door of the craft. "Greetings Polar Claw, an incoming hail is awaiting you in your chambers." The ship's feminine voice announced.
"Thanks." Polar Claw replied as he transformed into a large red robot with white furry bits of polar bear hanging off of him. A minute later he was entering his chambers, sitting down in front of a console and switching open the communications channel. "Look Rattrap, I don't care how much the humans hate you and try to kill you, Manhattan is your assignment and you're not relocating until I determine a better place for you to be."
"Uhm, excuse me?" And unknown voice replied through the speaker.
The stunned Polar Claw's optics widened in shock. "Identify yourself!" He roared as he regained his bearings.
"I'm the one that built this craft and am the one that is in command of this mission!" The voice angrily replied. "To whom am I speaking?"
Stunned once again, Polar Claw remained silent for nearly a minute before replying. "You mean to tell me that this…this is Atrium of Crystal City?"
"That is correct. Where is Lord Convoy?"
"Which one?" Polar Claw growled into the speaker, a surge of animosity overwhelming him.
"Either." The voice replied.
"Spose' it doesn't matter, the answer is the same." Polar Claw snarled. "Interned in the Axalon's morgue."
"What? No." The voice gasped.
"First was Lio Convoy, at the hands of a maniac from Beest nearly two hundred thousand years ago!" Polar Claw snarled. "Then Big Convoy fell in a battle to the death with a warlord from Eukaris around a hundred twenty five thousand years ago. It was as he was dying that he placed me in command, ordering me to bring the last protoform of House Convoy online, to train and educate him to lead us one day. Oh, and it was then that he also confided in me as to who you truly were, Abdicator!"
"And who are you?" A-Three demanded, clearly despondent at learning of the fates of two friends. "Where is the Convoy protoform?"
"This is Polar Claw, Maximal Commander now, and you're too late to save him too!" He roared. "His name was Primal of House Convoy, and like his kinsmen and dozens of our fellow Maximals, he fell defending us from something you failed to warn us was kept on this world. Something far worse than the Primus-damned Manifest!"
"What?" A-Three questioned. "What are you talking about? There is nothing else on that planet."
"You stupid bastard, you mean to tell me that you genuinely don't know what's here?" The Maximal snapped disbelievingly. "How could you not know what was here? How could you not realize why Guardian Prime was interested in this organic mudball?"
"It was slated to be another colony, just like Eukaris." A-Three replied, more question than statement.
"No, it was slated to be a test run, one that if successful, would be duplicated on Eukaris and every other organic mudball Prime came across." Polar Claw growled. "You left us stranded here, unaware of what we were sitting on, or that Prime had shared this secret to a few select colonial mad dogs. No contact, no adequate system of defense, no real information, all while guarding not just Prime and his cronies, but his most potent weapon."
"What weapon?" A-Three asked frantically. "I examined the Manifest myself, stem to stern; there was nothing non-standard on board the vessel…"
"It wasn't on the vessel, it was already here!" Polar Claw roared the interruption. "We fought three wars keeping it from invading warlords, we sank our island utopia to keep it from destroying this world and everything on it, thus revealing its existence to every higher life form with the ability to see past their own system, and in the process we lost the last sparks to be born out of House Convoy. No disrespect to the Knights, but the royal high houses aren't shit compared to House Convoy."
"I…I do not disagree." A-Three mournfully replied. "I knew many members of House Convoy, enough to know that the ancient tales of the House's honor, valor, integrity and sense of justice were not exaggerated. I know that Trionic, Paxus, Honorus, Magnus, Maximus, Ambus and Solus all derived many of their noble philosophies from those of House Convoy."
"And yet the houses they spawned sat back and merely watched as the Convoys were set upon and ground to nothing!" Polar Claw snarled accusingly.
"It was too late before we knew House Convoy was being acted against!" A-Three tried to defend himself. "The destruction of their birthing pool was the first act of Saurus Onyx outside of his own borders."
"You're going to tell me that you were ignorant to the ambitions of Deathsaurus until that point?" Polar Claw growled.
"We knew he craved expansion, but couldn't act while he was within the borders of Nyon. And we were unaware that he would target House Convoy so specifically." A-Three responded.
"Then you were all fools!" Polar Claw growled coolly. "Every Nyonian commoner was more than aware of his hatred of House Convoy. Their efforts on the behalf of the common people, and specifically those within Nyon's borders, led Saurus Onyx to fits of rage. Of course he would target them."
"I have borne this guilt for twelve million years, Polar Claw." A-Three replied with quiet sadness.
"Then it is time for you to bear new guilt." The angry Maximal replied. "Big Convoy, Lio Convoy, Primal Convoy; all that was left of House Convoy, all killed because you left them unprepared, ill-equipped, ignorant of the true threat, and abandoned on this distant planet with no means to contact you or anyone else! In the million years since you left us here, did it ever occur to you to contact us?"
"No." A-Three whispered. "Cybertron was not ready, and I failed to conceive of any threat that you would face. At least, not one from outside that world. The primates of the second largest continent showed the promise to evolve into higher life forms that could pose a problem in time, but…but I doubted…" he trailed off.
"Well, I guess you're able to predict some things." Polar Claw replied. "They did evolve, and they have proven to be a pain in our ass. For a time we revealed ourselves to them, even allowing them to join us on our island and develop a civilization there. But after the fall of the island…well, we felt it best to leave them to exist and develop on their own. We've observed from afar, watched them make the same mistakes we made, and become as despicable as we are."
"What befell the island? What is the threat that drew conflict to that world?" A-Three pressed desperately.
"A nightmare made real." Polar Claw spat. "According to Big Convoy, it was something that Jhiaxus proposed long ago, but that was immediately decried as barbaric and Guardian Prime demanded that the idea be discarded…publicly at least. But Prime apparently gave his blessing outside public eyes, and Jhiaxus made his nightmare here on this planet. When we first arrived here we wondered why the island we initially settled felt so much more welcoming than the rest of the planet. It was because it was designed by one of our kind. Jhiaxus fabricated the island over a facility he built on the bottom of the ocean to hide it from prying eyes. It is there that he built and housed it, and where once completed, he would activate it. The Manifest didn't arrive here to drop off colonists to adapt to the ecology of this world; it arrived to change the ecology to that of our world."
"Primus, no." A-Three gasped unbelievingly, "Not the Ferr…" A buzzing sound interrupted A-Three.
"Hold on, Abdicator, got a report coming in." Polar Claw announced. "Polar Claw here."
"Hey Claw, it's Cybershark." The voice came through. "Got a detonation in Japan."
"Yeah, they're at war, and the Americans have already been making bombing runs into their country for months." Polar Claw replied impatiently.
"Not like this." Cybershark answered. "I'm in Hiroshima Bay, and, well…the humans have split the atom."
"Shit." Polar Claw grumbled. "Yup, the primates of the second largest continent have definitely become a pain in our ass."
