Soundwave
The large blue royal peered out the window of the well-appointed room, a fortress that House Torrent had acquired a few million years back to enhance their House's authority in the southern half of Praxus. The emirate straddled the equator, which despite being an imaginary line, really did seem to create a schism in terms of cultures, behaviors, philosophies, and virtually everything else. A few hundred miles north loyalty to the Torrents was absolute, the faith of Primus was held devoutly, and belief in the beneficence of the Prime and Senate was unquestioned. Here in Kalis, near the southern border of Praxus, they followed the faith of The Guiding Hand, all but scoffed at the authority of House Torrent, and bore cynical, distrusting attitudes and resentments toward the 'northern' government. And beyond these broad strokes was the vast myriad of other cultural values and behaviors that separated the northern portion of the planet from the southern, and they all were glaringly present in the emirate of Praxus.
The southern flavor of Kalis did not sit well with Soundwave's guest, the darkly colored Rabattus Decimus, who was standing in front of the window glaring out at the denizens milling about in the streets below. "How does it not drive you insane, lording over subjects who are polytheistic southern anarchists?" Soundwave merely continued peering out the window from his seat on the long couch in the center of the room. "Still, I suppose for what we wish to accomplish we need a little southern gumption."
Soundwave turned his visor toward his guest. "What is it we wish to accomplish? I thought we were already accomplishing the expansion of the gladiatorial circuit into new markets."
"Bah," Rabattus grumbled as he turned away from the window and marched back to the center of the room, taking a seat on a couch across from Soundwave, "merely the start. A very profitable endeavor, but I have come to see this as a staging point to so much more." Rabattus leaned forward and smiled at the other Royal. "I'd like to discuss it with you, but only after our guests have come and gone." The arrogant robot leaned back and looked at the door opposite the window. "Speaking of our guests, where are those commoners."
"Starscream is of House Nexus now." Soundwave corrected, noting the dismissive look washing over Rabattus's face.
"He is, and always will be, a common-born whelp." Rabattus grumbled. "Being pretty enough to impress an emir to the point of adding a name to the House rolls doesn't change that."
"They have arrived." Soundwave replied, ending Rabattus's rant, earning him a look of confusion. "The crew at the landing pad radioed ahead. They'll be here in moments." True to the prediction, less than a minute later there was a sharp knock at the door. "Enter."
Starscream walked through the opening door, followed a moment later by a battered looking and limping Megatron. "Greetings my lords." Starscream jovially addressed them.
"Greetings to you, my lord." Rabattus replied with a forced smile, then nodding to Megatron. "And hello, Megatron of Tarn. You look…rather weathered. I was not aware that you were on the card last night."
"I was not." Megatron replied with a courteous smile, that while forced, appeared more genuine than the one displayed by Rabattus. "My injuries were due to a matter not related to the pits."
"I knew you Tarnians were feisty, but Primus, who, what and how many did you pick a fight with?" Rabattus asked, looking down as the scorch marks and lacerations on the armor of his legs. "Whoever they were, they clearly didn't play fair."
Megatron held his smile as he noted that there were two couches and a chair, the couches occupied by Soundwave and Rabattus, and he watched as Starscream slipped down into the chair. The commoner shrugged as he continued standing. "I'm not at liberty to discuss the specifics."
"Don't bother pressing him for further details, his trap remained shut the entire trip here." Starscream added mirthfully.
"As long as he's in fighting shape for tomorrow night's tournament, we shouldn't care what he does in his free time." Rabattus Decimus replied, and watched the door slide shut. "On to business."
"Yes, about business," Megatron stated uneasily, "I would like to point out that my loyalties lie with Emir Macht, and as such, I don't think it appropriate that we discuss plans involving the fight circuit without his, Emir Modus, Emir Onyx or any of the other impacted high lords' knowledge."
Rabattus smiled and nodded. "Of course. Your devotion to your liege lord is admirable, but we are not here to make any changes to the fighting circuit. Merely ways to protect it; ways that may involve tactics that some of these high lords would rather not have knowledge of."
"What are we talking about here?" Starscream questioned.
Rabattus gave each of them a look before continuing. "The fact is that due to the drastic increase in the circuit's size, popularity and influence in recent months, there is no longer any way to maintain its secrecy. Even prior to the surge in popularity, law enforcement was aware of its existence, but now it's gotten so big that the possibility of infiltration is undeniably real."
"It may have already happened." The commoner said nonchalantly.
"What?" Rabattus turned to him shocked. "Explain."
"Just a guess, but I came into contact with two gladiators, two brawlers from Iacon who had formerly been Autobots, and who I found out later had been suspects in the murder of Zeta Prime." Megatron explained, Soundwave noting a slight flare in Rabattus's optics. "I didn't have a chance to go over this with them as they showed their true colors and…disappeared with a target I was trying to…well, let's just say they interrupted what I was planning on doing. That's beside the point. The point is that when I later asked their former employer what he knew about them, he said that one had been arrested, was nearly charged, but was cut loose right before they sought him out to join the circuit. He swears he interrogated them and that they passed muster, but us fighters, we're of a different breed. When something matters, our ability to ignore pain…, well, a crime lord surrounded by bodyguards and ill-gotten comforts wouldn't understand. It's just a theory, but the possibility exists that the police had these guys over a barrel despite knowing they weren't guilty of Zeta Prime's murder, and made a deal involving them infiltrating the pits."
"I know those guys," Starscream chuckled, then turned to Rabattus, "your kinsman Mirage nearly burnt a circuit when they weren't killed in the pits a couple months back."
"All the more reason we need to give the establishment something else to focus on." Rabattus grumbled, ignoring Starscream's observation. "I had hoped that the Autobots would provide more of a distraction than they have, especially with the public execution of several of them taking place tomorrow, but so far they've been a major disappointment. Just an uptick in their regular innocuous civil disobedience, nothing to get and hold the attention of the higher authorities. I need them to be more…compelling."
"What do you have in mind?" Soundwave asked.
"It's time for the Autobots to graduate from annoying anarchists to villainous terrorists." Rabattus replied, looking up to Megatron. "Since joining the circuit, you've come into contact with all types, haven't you?"
Megatron nodded. "I have."
"Good, evaluate your contacts, if they can be trusted, enlist their aid and resources, but inform them of only what they need to know, nothing more, and certainly nothing that can link them to anyone above you." Rabattus ordered. "I want horror, death, destruction; things that will command the government's full attention. And I want Autobot guilt to be beyond question. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Clearly my lord." Megatron replied. "And should I need resources?"
Rabattus nodded. "Let Soundwave know what you want, he can come to me, and I'll see to it that you have everything you need." The dark royal leaned forward. "Do this, and you will be all but running the gladiatorial circuit. If Macht doesn't give you lands and a title, I will."
"Understood my lord, a most gracious offer. I will not disappoint." Megatron replied.
"Good." Rabattus leaned back into the couch. "Now leave us, both of you." He dismissively commanded, indicating both Megatron and Starscream. Megatron nodded and turned to leave, but Starscream displayed a look of shock and indignation. "Please, my lord." Rabattus requested more graciously of the adopted royal. "We will be out to discuss the progress of the circuit and enjoy some entertainment shortly."
Starscream was still clearly agitated at being asked to leave, but at the more proper dismissal he rose and headed toward the door with Megatron. "So be it. You don't mind if we help ourselves to some engex, do you Lord Soundwave?"
"By no means, enjoy. Please let the servants know that Megatron is to be treated as though here were a highborn guest." Soundwave replied.
"You are most gracious my lord." Megatron replied with a knowing grin as he left.
Once the door sealed shut Rabattus groaned. "That WAS very gracious of you, Soundwave."
"He is a vital component to our gladiatorial endeavor, and will be more so in the near future." Soundwave explained. "Plus he has traveled a long way to be here. Seems only appropriate that I extend the complete hospitality of my House to him."
"He has proven useful, I'll give him that." Rabattus admitted. "But he's a filthy commoner, as is Starscream, no matter what that smitten fool Pathos Nexus declares. They're nothing but vermin, the both of them. Megatron is just a big…rat, and Starscream, he's nothing more than a rat capable of flight."
"A bat." Soundwave explained, suppressing any outward sign of the inexplicable rage he felt toward Rabattus. He wanted to leap up and throttle the conniving high born snob for insulting Megatron.
"Yes," Rabattus continued, "a rat and a bat. Filthy creatures."
Soundwave's glare was heated, he was unable to completely hide his rage. A rat and a bat. The greatest Cybertronian he had ever known, a being he was completely loyal to, referred to as a rat. He was only the slightest bit cognizant of his fortune at having a face that was nearly impossible to read. He calmed enough so that his voice betrayed nothing of his true feelings. "So what was it you wished to discuss once they left?"
Rabattus peered deeply into Soundwave's linked optics for a long moment before answering. "I wish to undermine Sentinel Prime, to the point where he is removed and replaced with someone more…sympathetic to our needs and desires."
Soundwave silently stared at the other royal before finally responding. "A living Prime has never been removed from power by anyone other than himself. Is that even possible?"
"Yes." Rabattus smiled. "The Senate has the power to impeach and remove the Prime. There's entire chapters of the constitution dedicated to treatment of the Matrix; basically if the Prime shows affinity to it and no one else does then he gets to keep it, which is moot as the Matrix no longer exists, but the important part is that the authority wielded by a Prime can be removed, and another 'interim' Prime can be elected until the Matrix selects another. It was something that the southern emirates insisted upon when Guardian Prime was putting together the new Senate and constitution; which is odd given that two previous Primes had originated from the south. But anyway, yes, Sentinel can be legally removed. And if that doesn't work, there are other ways to remove him from power. I just want to create an environment where when that happens, however it happens, his removal won't cause an uproar."
"That is very ambitious." Soundwave commented. "He is very popular, many see him as far more fit to be Prime than Zeta ever was."
"Popularity is fleeting." Rabattus replied with a smile. "Especially when you repeatedly make questionable decisions, and the world you're in charge of is spiraling into chaos."
"His handling of the Polarun police cadet, the one affiliated with House Pax, was poorly handled, and the secret trial and rushed death sentence of the Autobots has raised many an optic-brow and caused official objections from many nobles and even Arlon Pax himself, but beyond those minor issues, none of his decisions has raised any questions." Soundwave remarked.
"His questionable decisions have just begun." Rabattus explained. "He's a hothead, a slave to his temper and his feelings of superiority and entitlement. And I now have his ear, and I know just how to play him."
"Why are you telling me this?" Soundwave asked. "You're taking a great risk. Participation in this gladiatorial circuit does not mean I'm on board with overthrowing the Prime."
"You have no love for Sentinel Prime," the dark royal answered, "and you have too much to lose by stepping forward to make non-specific accusations against me that you couldn't hope to substantiate. Besides, for some reason I trust you; and I need the help of someone I trust to see this through." Rabattus leaned forward and intensified his gaze. "I can trust you, can't I Soundwave of House Torrent?"
Soundwave met the gaze silently for a dozen seconds before replying. "Yes Lord Decimus, you can trust me."
Orion Pax
Blurred light would intrude from time to time, but for the most part it was just the blissful, disorienting blackness. The thoughts he had were jumbled, fragmented; at least that's how they seemed as he couldn't seem to lock on to any of them, and any recollection of them was futile, at least until now. Awareness was just now coming back, as were his other senses. The light was becoming more intrusive and insistent, and the seemingly distant words; dull blobs of noise bouncing off of his audio processors, slowly seemed to be taking shape.
"Eeees umming nline."
"ott sssible"
"Eee is. Brain waves normal…progressing toward exceptional."
"How can that be?" The other voice, one almost young sounding, asked. "When the brothers brought him here he was nearly dead."
There was slight bumping, as if they were in a moving vehicle, but that observation was put aside as the intrusive bright light became less blurred and more focused. This made it more uncomfortable, but he was starting to make out details. A large portion of that light, the center section coming from directly above him, was suddenly darkened. He squinted through the shadow to make out the shape that had blocked the light. A head, the details slowly coming into focus. Helmet; that eliminated only protoforms. Two eyes; blue. No face…no, a faceplate, one segmented and covering everything below the optics. And most distinctive, two crests, one on either side of the head…that were suddenly glowing.
"This common-born royal is one resilient specimen." The voice emerged from the head above him, but didn't seem to be emanating through the faceplate. "Sideswipe was right," Sideswipe! Megatron's lackey. He had been taken prisoner. "this is one tough bast…" Orion's hand shot up and gripped this robot's throat. Why wasn't he shackled?
"Whoah, Wheeljack!" The other, youthful voice cried out. "Stop! Let him go!"
Orion lurched up to a sitting position, lifting the robot in his grasp off his feet. He spotted one other robot in the small room, a mobile medical bay from what he could tell, one poorly equipped. The other robot, a small yellow robot with tiny horns on his helmet; nubs really, was fearfully pressed against the wall, as if trying to pull away as far as he could in this confined space. This was the guard Megatron had assigned to keep him from trying to break free? A fearful, ten-foot youngster? The youngster appeared to overcome his fear, at least enough to take action, and lunged at Orion. He latched onto the arm that Orion was clutching the other robot with, the one likely designated Wheeljack. He was far more interested in freeing this Wheeljack than he was in subduing his prisoner. Orion pondered his situation as both robots hung from his right arm; one clasping onto to it, the other clasped by it. No shackles, inadequate guard, in a med-bay that seemed ill-equipped in terms of not just medical supplies and equipment, but in security or apparent surveillance measures as well.
Orion released the larger, predominantly white robot and watched as the yellow one let go and immediately went to check on his comrade. "Wheeljack, you OK buddy?"
Wheeljack ignored the inquiry into his wellbeing and quickly looked up at Orion, his hands raised submissively in an attempt to calm him. "Hey, easy big guy, we're not trying to hurt you. In fact, we're repairing you…at least what little your own systems are letting us help with."
Orion studied them and nodded. "I apologize for the assault, my last memories involved a fight with Megatron, who seemed to be on the fence about whether he wanted to kill me or recruit me. As I came to you mentioned the name Sideswipe, who was with him during the fight. I made the assumption that I had been taken prisoner."
"Perfectly understandable." Wheeljack muttered as he got to his feet. "I'm Wheeljack, this is Bumblebee, and you're not a prisoner."
Orion looked them over, and noted that they bore brands depicting the Face of the Common Man, the image adopted by the Autobots to symbolize their movement. "You're Autobots."
"I hope that isn't a problem, Lord Pax." Bumblebee grumbled as he stepped away from Wheeljack, giving Orion a glare.
"I…I don't understand." Orion muttered. "Megatron made it clear that he was not in league with the Autobots."
"He's not." Wheeljack explained. "Swipe had a crisis of conscience and decided he couldn't let Megatron murder you."
"Oh, and the other one, Sunstreaker?" Orion began trying to envision what had happened to him.
"He has no conscience." Bumblebee grumbled.
"But he did help Sideswipe." Wheeljack added. "They even recovered your ion rifle." The white robot walked over to several lockers behind the slab that Orion was still sitting on and opened one, pulling out the rifle and handing it to Orion.
"Are you nuts?" Bumblebee protested loud and indignantly. "He's the reason Blaster, Jazz and the rest are going to be executed tomorrow!"
Orion's optics darted up from his rifle to Bumblebee's. "What?"
"Don't play dumb with us, Lord Pax, we know full well that you're the one that captured them!" Bumblebee shot back.
"They're to be executed? Tomorrow?" Orion demanded clarification.
"Sentinel Prime held a rushed, unannounced trial in that kangaroo court he calls a senate." Wheeljack explained as he walked back to the rear portion of the trailer they were being transported in, the section in front of the slab with Bumblebee. "Your House raised a formal protest, and managed to even get a few nobles and organizations to voice their disagreement, but for the most part the powers that be are just happy to make some Autobots go away."
"Where and when is the execution taking place?" Orion asked.
"Tomorrow night, in the Senate Forum." Bumblebee growled. "We've passed Kaon, so we should be entering the Tagan Heights within a couple hours. You can catch a rapid transport from there and be in Cybertropolis with plenty of time to spare to watch this travesty of justice."
"If the brothers are right, Cybertropolis, or anywhere in Nova Cronum, will be as dangerous for him as Polyhex." Wheeljack explained to Bumblebee before turning to Orion. "We're smuggling you out of Polyhex, in case you were wondering where you are. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are taking a different way out of the emirate, but we'll be meeting them at the Rapid Transport Terminal in Glibax. We'll make a few aesthetic alterations to your face and frame on the way, and when we get there you can get transport back to the Torus Heights."
Orion looked intently at Wheeljack. "Please provide me every detail regarding the trial and the plans for the executions. Every detail you have."
A-Three
"Primon!"
Not again. Not that voice. Not this place. Not again. A-Three recognized what was happening. It had been a long time since this particular vision; memory relived in spark-screaming vividness, had haunted his recharge hours.
"Primon, tell me you still function! Tell me your spark still pulses!" The massive voice of the massive monster carried through the hills of corpses. The dead of both sides covered the ground so heavily that the metal, stone or dirt of Cybertron's surface was no longer visible. The voice was calling out from the other side of a downed aerial troop transport three hundred yards away. Primon pushed himself off of the three-headed canine he had finally succeeded in killing; a victory that had been hard-fought and that came with a high price. The Prime limped carefully toward the craft, hoping to see and evaluate the situation on the other side. "Tell me your spark still pulses so that I can feel it throbbing in my hand! It's final pulses tickling my palm as I squeeze it into oblivion as I did with Prima!"
Poor Justicia. His fluid still ran cold when he remembered what this beast had done to her. She had been brilliant, courageous, amazing on every front. Justicia Ambus had been born to be Prime. And she had died because of it. Because of him! Because of Saurus Onyx, or Deathsaurus as he had taken to calling himself before starting his first rebellion two and a half million years before. He had torn the planet in half then, but through the grace of Primus and the wisdom granted by his Matrix, Alpha Trion had become Primon, and he had been able to lead his armies to victory over the Nyonian beasts. The peace had lasted nearly two million years, half of it under the rule of Primon, and upon discovering Justicia Ambus's affinity to the Matrix, he had stepped aside so that the other half would be under the rule of Prima.
Then, five hundred thousand years ago, Deathsaurus rose back again with his armies and tore into the planet in ways that made his previous rebellion look like a minor skirmish. He eventually drew Prima out into battle, and slaughtered her in front of her captive troops. Deathsaurus held the Matrix captive, declaring victory and dominion over the planet. Alpha of House Trion could no longer sit back and let others do his job; Alpha Trion could no longer exist. Primon was needed, and even without the Matrix, Primon still held the loyalty of all those willing to oppose Deathsaurus.
Hundreds of thousands of years of warfare had led to this battle. It had lasted months, and from what he could tell, it would end today. One way or another, the war ended today. Primon reached the downed and still smoldering craft and peered around it. The great winged dragon stomped down on the corpses of friend and foe alike. In the distance other portions of the battle raged, but were winding down. He could fly out and ensure victory for his side in each of these outlying skirmishes, but he knew Primon was there. He knew Primon still lived, and Deathsaurus valued nothing more than the pleasure of killing a Prime with his own claws. "Face me Primon!"
Primon looked around at the dead and their final possessions. There was no shortage of weapons in the debris, but finding one that could damage or destroy this beast, that was the trick. Physically Primon was nowhere near a match for this creature. He was huge, thirty feet tall in robot mode, even larger in beast mode, and according to his boasts, boasts Primon had no doubt possessed merit, he was one of the tiny few to possess an anomalous green spark that enhanced the frame it occupied to virtually super-Cybertronian levels. Alpha Trion's frame had been enhanced by the Matrix, but even Primon had nowhere near Deathsaurus's power, and though not all, much of the enhancement provided by the Matrix left him as Justicia Ambus became Prima. If he had any chance of defeating Deathsaurus, he would need a weapon of extreme potency.
Finding nothing on the ground around him that would do more than scratch the beasts skin, Primon looked up to see a gun turret on the downed craft. "Primon! Face me coward!" The dragon turned away and called out for him on the other direction, allowing Primon a few moments to quietly crawl into the ship and work his way toward the turret, silently praying that the canon was still functional and that the ammunition hadn't been depleted or scavenged. He climbed his way to the gunner's seat and performed a quick examination. "There are a few of your soldiers still clinging to life, Primon! I will start torturing them if you don't come out and face me!" It appeared to work, and had four rounds designed to puncture the armored walls of Fort Trypticon, the fortress Deathsaurus called home three miles in the distance. With this he could kill Deathsaurus. "Primon!"
The gun turret rotated up toward the winged dragon, who heard the whirring and turned its bestial head to see Primon staring back at him through the cracked transparent metal bubble over the canon. Primon displayed a smile as he pulled the trigger, sending a round hurtling toward the startled dragon. Unfortunately the canon had been damaged, and instead of blasting through the beast's chest, it obliterated one of his wings. "Aaarrgghhh!" It was a painful shot, and the pain provided a distraction that Primon hoped would be long enough for him to adjust his aim and take a second shot. He fired a second time, but Deathsaurus leapt, avoiding a killing shot but getting his left leg blasted off. He fell to the ground, where a third round tore through his upper bestial torso. He survived, as his spark was based lower than where the round had struck, but the damage was catastrophic.
A final round blasted through his lower torso, missing his spark chamber, but causing enough damage to make it clear he would not be recovering. The dying beast watched as his long-time adversary dropped out of the bubble-like turret and collapse to the ground. The battle had taken its toll on Primon, that was for certain, but these were injuries he would recover from. He would claim victory, he would reclaim Cybertron. This was a fate Deathsaurus could not allow the first Prime.
Primon limped forward, plucking up a rifle off of a fallen Nyonian warrior and continued on to finish off Deathsaurus. "Nova Onyx, come in."
"Primon, this is Nova Onyx. Where are you?" The voice came through a speaker on Primon's wrist.
"Three miles to the south of Trypticon." Primon replied. "Both armies are virtually wiped out here, but I have Deathsaurus. He's mortally wounded, and I'm seconds away from finishing the job. What's your status?"
"We're on the cusp of breaching the fortress, sir!" Nova answered. "This is a glorious day! Prima would be so proud of you!"
"She would be proud of us all, Lord Onyx." Primon smiled. "Finish with the taking of Trypticon, find and recover the Matrix, and we'll meet later. Primon out." Primon stopped thirty feet from Deathsaurus, glaring down at him.
"Tha…that wa…that was my treacherous kinsman, wasn't it?" Deathsaurus growled.
"Nova is a great soldier, a great leader, a great friend, and a credit to your House." Primon snarled. "Pray, for the sake of House Onyx, that it is his deeds that are remembered, not yours." Primon raised the rifle and pointed it at the beast's smiling maw. A moment later he was awash with waves of intense flames that caused his face and upper torso to explode in a torrent of agony and everything to go black, only the sound of the flames and laughter surrounding it could be heard as he lost consciousness, only to suddenly snap upright on his dormancy slab in Tyger Pax. The Polyhistor tried to relax, feeling the pulsing of his spark and willing it to slow, but was interrupted by a slight buzz on his personal communicator. He looked down to see that the incoming call was from a scrambled line. "Who is this?" He quietly demanded.
"A-Three, it's Orion."
"Orion my lad, we've been so worried for you." A-Three said anxiously as he slid off his slab and started walking toward the door. "Torenia and Roller were contacted by a frantic Elita Solus yesterday evening hoping that either of them had received word from you. Needless to say, the House is frantic, Roller has been inundating Captain Momus…"
"A-Three, please listen, I don't have much time." Orion interrupted. "Don't let anyone know you've spoken to me."
"Are you mad?" A-Three asked defiantly but stopped himself from leaving his suite. "Your family, as well as Lady Elita…"
"I understand, but for their own sake they need to be as ignorant of my whereabouts and situation as possible." Orion interrupted again. "Frankly I feel terrible for involving you, but I need a favor."
"Anything Orion." A-Three replied.
"Hold off on agreeing until you hear what I'm about to ask of you." Orion warned.
"No." A-Three snapped back. "For anyone else, I might require evaluation, but anything you need of me, regardless of consequence, I will do. Now tell me what it is I can help you with."
Metalhawk
The call with the cell commanders had taken place in an abandoned tenement on the outskirts of Glibax, and though expected, the final course of action decided upon in the call left Metalhawk, and all other cell leaders, feeling empty and disgusted with themselves. To be fair, they had analyzed every scenario in painstaking detail, considered every possibility, regardless of how outlandish and unlikely, but every possible outcome was of varying shades of disaster. Even Getaway had no viable suggestion on how to get them out. It was an impossible task, one they needed a miracle to perform, but the gods, whether Primus, or the members of The Guiding Hand, or some other deity, had refused to aid them in this endeavor.
Metalhawk smiled at the irony of thinking of the gods as he walked by a church; one of the Houses of the Hand, the faith that he held. His destination was one of the small storage buildings lined up just beyond the church, and as he walked by he admired the intricate designs carved into the metal, particularly the one depicting the five members of the Hand, Amunus, Solomus, Epistimus, Mortilus and Adaptus, standing over the throngs of their initial generation of created Cybertronians, the first mechanical beings in a world of organics. According to his faith, the members of the Hand were all different aspects of the great creator Mazdas, who separated himself for reasons unknowable to his created. Several of his monotheistic friends, typically other Autobots from the north, have suggested that there is no hand, that Mazdas and Primus are one in the same. Like other polys, the term used by many monotheistic followers of Primus to describe the followers of The Hand, Metalhawk merely laughed and dismissed the possibility. At least he used to laugh. The new Emir of the Tagan Heights seemed to have recently developed a streak of Primal zealotry that many polytheists in the emirate feared would pose a threat to their faith.
Metalhawk shelved this line of thinking as unlikely as he walked by the giant carving that covered the vast majority of the temple's wall, paying special attention not to the gods, but to the created. There were hundreds of individuals, all possessing unique bodies, but all of their faces were one of the five faces that represented the different roles in Cybertronian society; the Nurturer, the Smith, the Warrior, the Stranger, and the Common Man. There were slight variations to represent gender, but otherwise the faces were identical to other faces within their group. Metalhawk's optics rested on one of the characters with a common man face, the emblem chosen by the Autobots to represent their cause, one identical to the one on his chest that was currently hidden by a panel.
He finally reached the storage facility where the other Autobots were supposed to be waiting for him. He opened the door, was greeted by a stern face, but at seeing it was him the Autobot at the door stepped back, allowing him to enter. Metalhawk walked through the crowd to the front, turned and faced them all. They were all looking up at him expectantly, eagerly waiting for him to say what they were hoping for him to say; expecting him to say. The two-dozen commoners that represented cells from all over the western portions of The Tagan Heights were champing at the bit to hear the plan to rescue their comrades that were slated to be executed just hours from now in Cybertropolis. Unfortunately he couldn't tell them what they wanted to hear, as no such plan existed.
They'd spent weeks trying to come up with some way to get Blaster's crew out of the prison, especially when word of their pseudo-secret convictions and death sentences had reached them, but the prison was too well guarded, the Senate Forum was just as much, and the one opportunity they had, when the prisoners were transported from Iacon to Cybertropolis prior to their trial, occurred without their notice. They were outgunned, outnumbered, had little knowledge of the facilities, and despite an abundance of will, they lacked even a fraction of the means needed to have a prayer of pulling this off. It was Metalhawk's job to make this clear to them, the rank and file Autobots who fought every day for a cause they had little chance of ever gaining any ground on.
"Thank you all for coming." He addressed them with a smile. The few collections of whispers that had been present immediately ceased, and all Autobots stared up at him ready to hear what Metalhawk had to say. "Tonight our brothers are set to be murdered, and Sentinel Pr…", no, he was unworthy, "Sentinel Honorum, in is unmitigated gall, has chosen to broadcast the executions to send a message. A message to us, and those who would dare to feel sympathetic to our cause."
There were grumbles throughout the small crowd, but all was interrupted as a door was thrown open and two brightly colored forms entered the expanse. "Prowl can eat a pipe." The red robot, who Metalhawk recognized from inter-Autobot dossiers as the Iaconian deserter Sideswipe, blurted out to his comrade, a yellow robot that intel identified as his spark-spliced sibling and fellow deserter Sunstreaker. Of course, according to the message transmitted from one of the Polyhexian cells, the deserter label might be less cut and dried than previously thought.
"He's going to shove pipes up our exhaust ports when he finds us." Sunstreaker growled, the two of them still oblivious to the meeting that they had interrupted. "Months of undercover bullshit for nothing; they're going to pin Zeta on us after all."
"Screw 'em, let 'em, I'm done kowtowing to self-important bit…"
"Enough!" Metalhawk roared. "Even were you in good standing, which the two of you most definitely are not, you do not barge in here blathering away while a meeting is going on."
The brothers looked up and both shrugged and replied in unison. "Sorry."
"Sir," a comment from Electro, a yellow Autobot in the front of the cluster of robots called out hesitantly, "how are we getting them out?"
Metalhawk looked at Electro sadly, then raised his gaze to take in the entire group. "We're not."
"What?" Electro's gasped question was echoed by virtually everyone else in the room.
"It would be suicide." Metalhawk replied, making sure the level of authority in his voice was adequate. "We would hit, we would be stopped, we would be either killed or imprisoned, and Blaster, Jazz, Perceptor, Trailbreaker, Pyro, Steeljaw, Hoist, Bluestreak, Cliffjumper, Smokescreen, Huffer, Rewind and Guzzle would all be publicly executed despite our best efforts."
"Tarpanicus shit!" Sideswipe roared. "So what are we planning on doing, paint protest graffiti?"
Metalhawk glared at the red Autobot in questionable standing before replying. "Hubcap has figured out a way to hijack a communications signal temporarily, and we've put together a loop of propaganda footage that will air instead of the execution for several channels."
"That'd be great to preempt the Ibex Cup with, but these are our friends!" Sunstreaker snarled, but then smiled and continued. "Well, some are his friends," he thumbed at Sideswipe, "I personally can't stand to be around Blaster, but they're our comrades, so sorry, your plan sucks bearings."
"That's enough out of the both of you!" Metalhawk roared. "Much smarter beings than you have analyzed every possible attack, every possible infiltration, every possible everything! And they came up with nothing viable, so shut the hell up or get out! There's no way we can get in there, extract the prisoners, and get out of there!"
The door was pushed open again, prompting everyone to turn nervously toward it. "I believe you're wrong." The stranger walking in stated authoritatively. The Autobots all postured to engage him, but Wheeljack and Bumblebee walking behind him gave them all pause.
"Whoah, why aren't you on a transport to Polarus with a fake beard?" Sideswipe shot.
"And what are you doing walking around?" Sunstreaker added. "You should be sipping energon through a straw for the next month, not busting in here and arresting those who saved your ass!"
"Wait, Polarus?" Metalhawk questioned. "You mean to tell me this is the Rodion royal cop?" He glared at Wheeljack and Bumblebee. "You brought a slagging royal here? Have you completely glitched?"
"I'm not here to arrest you." The newcomer, Orion Pax, stated loudly, the statement failing to convince the Autobots present. "I'm here to help save your friends. But we must leave for Cybertropolis immediately."
"You're the one that pinched them!" Sideswipe snapped.
"Yes, something I plan to undo." Orion replied. "But as I said, we need to hurry."
"Enough!" Metalhawk yelled out. "You're either here to lead us into a trap, or you're on the level but deluded and plan on a course of action that will lead to failure." He locked optics with Orion. "It appears that my two comrades, who normally display a more than adequate amount of good sense, led you here of their own volition, and I am aware of Prime turning on you and your subsequent fall from grace. And I read Wheeljack's report stating that an attempt on your life had been made by levels at least as high as Emir Macht, and possibly Sentinel Prime himself. So I'm not entirely closed to the possibility that you may genuinely wish to aid us. And if you pass scrutiny, we'd be happy to have you. But for you to barge in here and insist that an objective our best and brightest deemed impossible is something we must fight to achieve is absurd. I know you have potential, Lord Pax," the Autobot let the title hang in the air to add to his status as an outsider among these commoners, "but as of now you wield no authority with us. In fact, given your status as a member of a royal house and member of law enforcement, we'd be crazy not to kill you or at least beat you into a coma and abandon you in the tenements a couple miles away."
Orion nodded as he held Metalhawk's gaze. "I recognize what I am, and how unlikely it seems that one with a royal name would not only wish to assist, but to join the Autobots. But I have not been admitted into any House, and in fourteen years when I'm legally able to, I will refrain from doing so. I have long held with the ideals of the Autobots, I dare say I know them better than many of you," the comment garnered more than a few angry groans, "Blaster was happy to teach me, and I am ready to renounce my affiliation with the government's police force, and…" Orion paused hesitantly, but continued, "and my name as well."
"Naw man, keep it." Sideswipe blurted out, and noted everyone turning to look at him, which caused him to shrug and gave a goofy look. "An Autobot named Pax is propaganda gold!"
"Actually, he's right." Metalhawk muttered. "Keep the name."
Orion looked up. "When it comes to the name, I will respect the wishes of Arlon and House Pax. I wish to do them no harm beyond the removal of the caste system they're a part of. I may wish to become an Autobot, but I will always respect House Pax."
"Had you said that about any other House, I'd tell you to get the hell out," Metalhawk replied, "but you wouldn't be the first Autobot to have a soft spot for the Pax's. But I've already told you we'd be open to looking into you joining us, that I may consider you to be on the level. It's that you plan to get us compromised and killed with a suicidal plan that's caused the friction. If our best and brightest couldn't figure out how to pull it off, you can't figure out how to pull it off."
"With all due respect to your best and brightest," Orion replied, a slight smile on his face, "they don't know how to gain access to Cybertropolis PD's crowd control weaponry, nor are they privy to ancient access and escape routes that only one…now two people on Cybertron are aware of."
Metalhawk stared incredulously at Orion before turning to Wheeljack, who shrugged back at him. "We let him make a call."
"Hand, hold us." Metalhawk prayed in annoyed frustration.
"Sir," Electro turned to Metalhawk, "the aerial transport to Cybertropolis has already been arranged. We've got to at least hear the plan."
Prowl
"Good evening to you, Security Commander." The darkly colored royal announced loudly as he entered the Senate Forum. Prowl was more than a bit annoyed that Rabattus Decimus had been permitted access to the area where executions would be carried out. Frankly, he was sickened that Prime had insisted that the executions not only be broadcast, but that they be done in the Senate. Seeing that sharp-toothed smile over optics shining with glee in this revered forum on this solemn and serious occasion just added to Prowl's fury.
"Lord Decimus, only security personal should be here. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Prowl replied, keeping his anger in check.
"I asked him to come." Sentinel Prime called out from the doorway behind him as he entered the Forum from behind the consul seats. "Lord Decimus has become one of my most trusted friends. He is to be granted unfettered access to pretty much anywhere."
Prowl truly disliked the decision, he felt Rabattus to be an untrustworthy sort always out for his own advancement. Even his kinsman Zeta seemed to be wary of trusting him completely, but Sentinel seemed completely at ease with the royal. But the Security Commander could do nothing more than nod and smile. "Of course sir." He then smiled at Rabattus before continuing on with his inspection. It was at least the twentieth time he had gone through here for this purpose, but it would be his final one prior to the execution.
They were minutes away from allowing the senators and other dignitaries in, followed by the various media representatives and their crews, and then finally, the prisoners. It would all be over in less than an hour. The facility was beyond secure, the perimeter was inundated with checkpoints; the checkpoints had checkpoints. No one could get in or out, and yet, something didn't seem right to Prowl. The Autobots probably realized that any attempt to break their comrades free would be futile, but there should have been protests, acts of backlash, graffiti, chaos in the streets…something. But in the days leading up to the execution the Autobots had little more than they typically did; today had be completely devoid of Autobot activity. Prowl knew that could only mean that they were waiting for the ideal time to pull something off, he just needed to be ready and able to prevent it.
Soon the senators were filing in. Then any royalty that chose to attend, including Arlon Pax. The Emir of the Torus Heights had cast aside his reclusiveness and been beyond vocal in his condemnation of the planned executions, even going so far as to refer to the act as murder. Prowl had to admit, the punishment did not fit the crime; he had been there for the crime, he had been in the thick of it, he had been a victim of the attack. But they had used tar bombs. Frankly, were the Autobots planning on killing them, well, they'd have had trouble finding ordinance that could tear through Sentinel Prime's armor perhaps, but Prowl and most of the Primal Security Force would have been killed. Punishment was deserved for this act of insurrection, but not execution. But Prime insisted he was just and right, that it was his mandate from the Senate to do as he saw fit, and to do it without being hampered by dissent. He looked over to Prime, who still had Rabattus next to him whispering in his aural cavity, the two of them glaring up at Arlon Pax, as the non-humanoid shaped emir struggled to contort his frame into the area assigned to him. To his credit, Lord Pax succeeded in looking dignified in his attempts to sit comfortably, eliciting disappointed looks from Sentinel and Rabattus. 'Petty', Prowl thought to himself, perhaps appropriate for a Decimus devoid of power, but beneath the Prime. But again, it was not Prowl's place to make such judgments.
He then watched as Red Alert and his team ushered in the media contingent and informed them of where they could set up. Nearly half an hour later they were set, it was time to begin. Prowl watched as Sentinel Prime whispered something to Rabattus which caused them to share a light chuckle, before turning toward Prowl and walking across the Forum floor to speak to him. "Is everything ready, Prowl?"
Prowl nodded. "Yes your grace, though it's not too late to change your mind if you've had second thoughts." The statement only gained him a disgusted glare from his leader, who then turned away and smiled up at the Senators, royalty and nobility.
"Greetings everyone. Thank you all for coming." Sentinel addressed them regally, but was careful to address the cameras on him with as much respect. "Tonight we have a serious matter to attend to. Justice is always a serious matter. The better part of a year ago my party and myself were attacked. A terrorist group lied in wait for us in the middle of a populated town, and attacked without cause or hesitation, causing grievous injury. Their attack was thwarted, they were captured, but their intent was clear; they wished to kill me and those devoted champions assigned to protect me. I bypassed the Magistratus and held their trial before this very Senate, and this esteemed governing body recognized the evil in their sparks, and wisely chose to find them guilty of the charges against them, and to assign the appropriate punishment." Sentinel lowered his head solemnly and paced slowly across the forum floor. "The execution of a prisoner is never easy, nor should it be. It is the silencing of a spark, the ending of a life, the cancelation of something divinely given. But there are offenses that demand nothing less. While I see myself as one of you, I'm forced to acknowledge the power and symbolism my title holds. This wasn't an attack on Sentinel Honorum, this was an attack on the Prime. The punishment is clear," Sentinel turned and nodded to Prowl, "send in the guilty."
Prowl tapped a button that sent a signal to his guards, and a moment later the thirteen captive Autobots were marched into the Forum in shackles. Sentinel Prime marched over to Blaster and whispered something, causing the captive Autobot to glared into his optics. Sentinel turned and remained in character; the respectful and appropriate Commander of all, administering justice. The Autobots were lined up in front of the device constructed for this purpose. It was a construct that was being adjusted to lie directly in front of the prisoners, possessing a puncture spike to destroy each of their sparks that acted in unison with a blade designed to decapitate them. The device held twelve of these combined killing mechanisms, each set to the size and shape of their humanoid-shaped targets. For Steeljaw, a large axe was brought out. Sentinel felt it would be a good show of his prowess if he were to execute one of the prisoners himself.
"Prowl?" The voice of Eject came through the inter-Security communications channel.
Prowl turned and headed toward a doorway where he could talk quietly without being noticed by anyone. On his way he noticed several members of the media seeming to panic over something. Upon reaching the doorway he replied. "What is it Eject?"
"Sir, several of the channels broadcasting have been interrupted by a pirated signal." He replied. "It's pumping pre-recorded Autobot propaganda."
"How many channels?" Prowl asked.
"Four of the ten broadcasting." Eject answered.
"Less than half." Prowl muttered to himself. "The events are getting out there, so I'm not going to bother Prime with this now, but do what you can to block them out and reclaim the signals."
"Yes sir." Eject replied before Prowl cut the connection. He smiled. Finally, the Autobots had made their move. It would be an annoyance at worst. For the first time in weeks Prowl allowed himself to relax.
"You have been found guilty of attempted Primalcide!" Sentinel's voice called out loudly, and Prowl turned and reentered the Forum, looking at his leader, the massive Prime's right hand resting on a podium while his left waved out over the thirteen soon to be dead Autobots. "Do you have any last words before you are strapped to the impalation gibbet?" Prowl knew that Prime had been kicking around the idea of sabotaging the vocal functions of the prisoners, and it seemed that he had actually followed through with his plans as they only glared at him silently. "No? Alright then, guards, strap…" Prime was interrupted as a dark glob slammed into and enveloped his hand, leaving it stuck to the podium. "What?" A smaller round struck the Prime in the mouth, silencing him.
The guards were immediately swarming on the Forum floor, as was Prowl, but no sooner were they out there than they were being pelted right and left by tar bombs as well. "Autobots!" Prowl yelled out as his legs were swept out from under him by a glob fired from fairly close range, forcing him to fall over at an awkward angle as his feet were immediately glued to the floor.
"This travesty of justice is over!" Prowl turned to the voice, one originating from the upper seating levels, and was amazed to see Orion Pax running down, a tar canon in his hand. Various other robots were funneling in, overwhelming his guards with ease and keeping the senators, royals and nobles intimidated. Prowl immediately looked up toward Arlon Pax to see if the emir would provide some indication as to whether he was expecting the attack or even if he seemed to support it. The look on the non-humanoid emir's face would be difficult to read for most, but Prowl was able to analyze it as if it were a standard, humanoid face, and his analysis was telling him that Arlon was as stunned by this development as he was.
Orion reached the floor as those he was with immediately went to free the prisoners. The common-born Pax turned and addressed everyone in the audience as well as the cameras. "I bid you greeting, members of the Cybertronian Senate. I would apologize for this disruption, were these proceedings not is such dire need of disruption." He noted the looks and sounds of surprise and fear, raising his hands as he spoke. "I mean no harm to any of you." He turned and watched as his comrades freed the Autobots, two of which were the siblings that had infiltrated the gladiatorial circuit for Prowl, before continuing his address.
"Prowl, the signal was inexplicably cleared…ohhhh, oh shit!" Prowl rolled his optics at Eject's comments through the communication channel and his sudden realization of what was going on. The Security Commander struggled to free himself as he continued listening to Orion Pax addressing the audience, both present and around the planet.
"A question has dominated my thoughts, my very soul, since the moment of my birth roughly one year ago, and it is one that I now put before this esteemed Senate, a question that has been asked far too infrequently of you senators. It is a matter that, in my opinion, is nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery. Our society, and the societies that its foundations were built upon the ruins of, was founded on the basic, unshakable core belief that there are those of us who are inherently of greater value than others. This value that is allotted to us based on no merit beyond location of birth. It is a philosophy devoid of any degree of reason or rational support, yet one whose entrenchment in our culture is absolute and unshakable.
There is no mystery as to why this is. Those who attained power through whatever means, sought, as you continue to seek, to maintain their power; to ensure that their power and wealth was unthreatened, and to keep those that could pose a threat down and powerless. To aid them to this end they created, and you maintain, a mythology of enhancement and enlightenment through a divinely ordained system of birthrights. It's a story that would be laughable were it not such a tragic one that's lasted for over a dozen million years. We Autobots are devoted to putting an end to this tragedy. When the course of events leads to an environment where it becomes necessary for one people to divorce themselves from the binds that connect them to another, a deference to the opinions of cyberkind requires that they should declare the causes which drive them to the separation.
Though long ignored, it is an intrinsic axiom that all sentient beings are created equal, gifted by their Creator with certain irrefutable entitlements, that among those are existence, freedom, and the right to seek contentment. Governments are created by sentient beings to secure these entitlements, and justly operate through the sanction of the governed. When such government becomes a threat to these ideals, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it!
There is so much more, but I fear that due to circumstances, I must cut this short. Know that we Autobots prefer alteration to abolition; though drastic alteration is required. Should the actions of this Senate prove to be insufficient or non-existent on this front, we will have no hesitation in tearing it down and starting over from scratch. I know that I do not speak for all, but I am certain that I am not alone in demanding that I be given liberty, or that I be given death. I will be a slave to the whims of petty despots no longer, nor will I tolerate that fate for others."
The last of the shackles were removed from the prisoners as two dozen guards armed with small caliber weapons surged into the Forum. One of the guards was armed with a chemical dispenser, and began immediately firing on the globs of tar covering Prime. Prowl continued struggling, but looked back up onto the crowd to see if it was pride or disgust on the face of Arlon Pax. He was stunned to see the seating area vacated by the emir, but he couldn't dwell on it as another guard with a chemical dispenser began covering the tar holding his legs with a gel that ate away at it. Halfway to freedom Prowl turned to see Prime yank free of the podium, tear what remained of his chemically-soaked tar from his mouth and charge Orion Pax. "You'll die for this, commoner!" The punch was thunderous, but Pax sidestepped it and used Prime's momentum to push him into the large execution device.
The impact damaged part of it, but activated the puncturing mechanism for the section directly in front of Sentinel Prime. The spike shot toward his back, but it was pulverized by a blue blur of a fist slamming into it a moment before it could connect with the Prime. "Nobody dies today!" Orion announced as he stepped back away from Prime and the mechanism.
"Wrong!" Prime roared as he backhanded Orion and charged after him. Orion recovered from the backhand immediately and once again side-stepped Prime, and as Sentinel turned toward him, Orion delivered a right cross that floored the leader.
"Pax, move your ass!" Prowl pulled both his legs free and leapt to his feet to see Sunstreaker calling out to Orion from a hallway entrance that the rest of the Autobots were already departing through. Orion didn't hesitate and was immediately leaping over unconscious or tar-subdued guards toward the others, and a second later they had vanished into the hallway. Prowl couldn't understand what they were doing, that hallway would only lead them deeper into the Senate building; they would be trapped in minutes.
"Prime!" Prowl knelt down next to his leader, and looked into the just now focusing optics. "Are you alright?"
Prime's metal teeth ground in fury. "Get them! Don't let them escape!"
Shokaract
He hated the The Torus Heights. He hated the north in general, but he especially hated this cold, sparsely populated, endless expanse of shit emirate. Why Reptilion refused to move from here was beyond him. Granted, he needed privacy, and there was plenty of that in this wasteland, but security measures could be put in place in facilities in the south if he wanted. And if he were caught, the Onyx's, Modus's, Macht's and others could be bribed to look away; there was no chance of a Pax overlooking whatever Repilion was doing.
But he was insistent, and brilliant, so they indulged him. And it was impossible to dismiss his point that as the target of his experiments was the Tartarun Gates, a staging point in The Torus Heights made a lot of sense. So as much as he and his fellow Nyonian companions, Ransack and Striker, may have hated this frigid expanse, they made the trip. They all played their roles, Mindwipe's being critical, but ultimately any chance of success rested with Reptilion.
The three robots with bestial pieces indicating animalistic shell modes came upon a lone facility wedged into a narrow valley, surrounded by no other signs of civilization, the sun quickly disappearing under the mountains. "I honor Saurus Onyx, I possess nothing but pride in my beast mode, but damn if treks like these don't make me long for wheels and motors."
Striker laughed and nodded in agreement at Shokaract's statement as he reached forward and knocked at the door. Ransack however snarled a reply. "I could have traversed this distance faster than any wheeled form had I not been anchored with you two slow lumps."
"We appreciate your company, Ransack." Striker replied through his mild laughter.
"Your fleet form will be most useful when the time to spread death arrives." Shokaract mused, quickly abandoning his uncharacteristic mirth and getting serious once again.
Nearly a minute later the door was pulled open to reveal a monstrous green and purple robot. "What do you want?"
Though not invited, the three pushed their way in, the occupant, though seemingly annoyed, permitted it. "Mindwipe has received another vision, message, whatever you want to call it, Reptilion." Shockaract replied as the host shut the door. "Our masters grow impatient, they expect faster results of us."
"Faster res…" Reptilion grumbled. "Do they have any idea of the complexity of what I'm doing here?"
"No, they know only of our existence and our pledge to free them and submit to them." Ransack replied without any compassion in his voice. "Even if Mindwipe understood what you're trying to do here, I doubt whatever link he has to the undead would be robust enough for such level of detail to flow."
"Bah, alive, dead, or undead, management always consists of demanding, short-sighted blowhards that always fail to recognize or appreciate the complexities involved with achieving their goals." Reptilion replied with a growl. "Well, you came to see where we're at, I might as well show you."
Reptilion led his visitors out of the large expanse that could have been considered a reception area if he were interested enough in receiving guests to design it to be one, and on through several hallways before stopping midway in one. Shokaract and the others were confused, as there were no doors anywhere near them, but things became clear as their host turned to the wall, stepped toward it and positioned his face to within a few inches of it, and a panel slit open. A series of lights emanated from it to scan his optics, and a moment later a large, door-sized panel, slid open.
The four robots entered a dark expanse, but as they entered the lights high overhead began activating and illuminating the sections ahead of them, until an entire 10,000 foot deep and 8,000 foot wide expanse came into view. "I'm really only using this front third for now." Reptilion said as he reached the end of a line of lab tables filled with equipment and monitors and turned to the right. There were rows of tables equipped in much the same way, and he passed several row on his way toward the wall, which was lined with cages; scores of cages, nearly three hundred by Shokaract's estimate, enough that even stacked three high extended nearly the entire length of the vast room. Of the two-hundred seventy-four specimens you provided me, only three survived the testing and proved to possess the traits needed." He turned right as they got to the row with the cages and started heading back toward the front of the room, the robots looking at column after column of cages filled with corpses to their left, until they finally reached the first three columns of cages, where on the floor level cage of each column laid a living but unconscious black and purple robot. "You three will be proud to know that the only viable candidates hailed from Nyon." Reptilion announced as they looked upon the three average-sized darkly colored forms. "Not sure if there's something in the metallico, or if it's related to the higher prevalence for bestial shaped robotic modes, or what, but you Nyonians seem more open to physical adaptation."
"So who are these guys?" Ransack asked, peering intently at the three.
Reptilion turned around toward the lab table behind him and lifted off a tablet, taking a few seconds to scroll through. "Their designations are…Kickback, Bombshell and Shrapnel." He looked up from the tablet and smiled at his guests. "Don't get too attached though. They've made it through the testing, so physically they should recover from what we have planned for them, but mentally, well, let's just say that what's already happened combined with what's in store is going to take a pretty hefty toll."
Shokaract nodded. "We don't care about their wellbeing, just that they are adequate for the procedure."
Reptilion nodded and displayed a monstrous smile. "Oh, they're beyond adequate, they're perfect."
Arlon Pax
"Sir, what are we doing here?" Roadbuster, the head of his guards here in Cybertropolis, asked as he nervously scanned the area. "We're fifty feet from a sewer run-off, we've seen several empties and other undesirables loitering around here, and there was an attack in the Senate Forum. We need to get you to a more secure location."
"Relax Roadbuster, we're perfectly safe." Arlon replied. "Though do not be alarmed when a secret panel in that wall opens and the attackers come out."
"Sir?" The startled Roadbuster asked, but then raised his rifle toward the wall in front of them. "Be ready boys."
"Put your weapons down!" Arlon demanded. "You must of heard who was leading the attack."
"We overheard some comments, Lord Pax, but they were absurd." Roadbuster replied. "There couldn't be any truth to…"
"It was Orion," Alron interrupted, "I witnessed what he did with my own optics. So cease pointing your weapons at…" a shaking of the wall silenced Arlon, and after a great deal of shuffling, the wall started pushing out and then sliding to the side, displacing millions of years' worth of sediment from the structure.
A moment later a yellow helmet surrounding a silver face poked its head out, caught sight of them and ducked back in. Arlon and the security force that he had brought from the Torus Heights heard the barely muffled conversation going on within the newly exposed dark tunnel. "There's close to two-dozen armed soldiers out there, all behind what's either Arlon Pax or a tarpanicus."
"Move Metalhawk." A familiar voice said, and a moment later Orion Pax emerged through the entrance and marched straight toward Arlon, wrapping his arms around the bestial emir, who in turn raised onto his hind legs to hug Orion with his forelimbs. "It's wonderful to see you again, my lord."
"It's a glorious relief to see you, my son." Arlon replied as they broke the hug and each took a step back. Orion nodded and looked down, the other Autobots filing out of the tunnel and standing in the lower-level street. Arlon chuckled lightly. "You didn't really think that you were the only one that A-Three shared his secrets with, did you?"
Orion chuckled. "Clearly I was incorrect in making that assumption." He finally looked back up and peered deeply into Arlon Pax's optics. "Sir, I have betrayed your House and put you and every other Pax in jeopardy. I am so so…"
"Stop!" Arlon interrupted. "I have betrayed House Pax by not taking the stance that you are taking now millions of years ago. You, with your actions today, have brought honor and integrity back to House Pax. What you said in there, what was heard by the entire planet, will make us despised by the royal and noble Houses, but it was right, it was just, it was truly noble. You have brought honor, true honor to House Pax today. I have never been prouder of anyone than I am of you right now. Do not apologize for doing what is right! Never apologize for doing what is right!"
"Uhm, sir," the robot that had first peered through the opening interrupted, "I apologize, I do not mean to interrupt or to disrespect you. House Pax has always been a beacon of light in the darkness of our world, but I'm afraid we need to wrap this up. We're still in dangerous territory here."
"Of course." Arlon said, nodding at the Autobot that Orion had referred to earlier as Metalhawk, before looking back at his wayward adopted kinsman. "You have brought me pride, Orion Pax."
"Sir, I no longer have the right, it's just Orion."
"It's Orion Pax." Arlon corrected firmly. "No one has earned the right more than you. It would do our House honor for you to retain the name. Please, keep it."
"Of course my lord." Orion replied as he bowed.
"Primus keep you Orion Pax." Arlon then turned to his security forces. "You are all commoners, and you are all loyal to Orion Pax. Those of you who have an inclination to join these Autobots may do so with my blessing. The rest of you are to return to Tyger Pax. I will be safe on my own here."
"Sir…" Roadbuster protested.
"That is an order, Roadbuster." Arlon insisted. "Make your choices and go. I will be fine."
"My lord," Orion stepped forward, "Arlon, please keep them at your side. If I escape, Sentinel Prime will try to take this out on you."
"Let him try." Arlon stated. "Now, I realize that you Autobots do not submit to ranks of royalty or nobility, but as one of the individuals to have helped raise you I am entitled to give you one final order."
"Of course, my lord." Orion bowed his head.
"Run, and do not look back until you are safely away." Arlon stated. "Never regret your actions here tonight, no matter what consequences emerge. You were just, you sought freedom and equality for all sentient beings of this planet, you lived our ideals. So I order you to escape, and continue your fight another day."
"Sir, please, let Roadbuster escort you back to Tyger Pax, or come with us." Orion pleaded.
"I have made my decision, I expect you all to respect it." Arlon insisted. The bestial emir than smiled. "Do not fear, I can handle Sentinel Honorum."
Sentinel Prime
"You cannot allow this to pass." Rabattus's words were right, but served no purpose. Sentinel had no intention of letting any of this pass. He continued staring angrily at the doorway that his Security Commander had disappeared through half an hour before to conduct the search for the Autobot bastards who had shamed him. Finally the black and white form of Prowl reappeared.
"Finally!" Prime snarled as he marched toward the much smaller Prowl. "Tell me you've found them!"
"I'm sorry sir, but they're still unaccounted for." Prowl replied.
"How?" Prime roared. "They fled INTO the center of the building! They should have been easily cornered and either captured, or cut to pieces by our weapons!"
Prowl braced himself before delivering this next bit. "Sir, it appears that they gained access to secret passages that we were unaware of. We've found a couple of access points, but it's been slow going trying to figure out where these passages lead and which branches the intruders used. Frankly, none of us had the slightest clue that these passages existed."
Prime turned away and growled to himself. "Primon!"
"What was that your grace?" Prowl asked.
"Nothing." Prime growled as he turned back toward Prowl. "Is there nothing you can do? Nothing you can leverage against that bastard of a Pax?" Suddenly Prime's optics grew wide. "Arlon!" He turned to look up into the crowd of spectators, who had been ordered to stay where they were until the initial investigation determined whether any of them had somehow aided the Autobots. Prime's optics darted directly to where Arlon had been sitting, widening as he saw the section vacated. "Where is he? Where is Arlon Pax?"
"I noticed him missing before the Autobots left the Forum." Prowl replied, raising his wrist to his face. "Though he was there as they initially charged in, and he appeared as surprised as any of us." He opened a signal to the heads of each of his security squads. "I want Arlon Pax found and brought to the Senate Forum."
"You can save your subordinates some time and effort." A voice announced from the doorway behind them, and both Prowl and Prime turned to see the quadruped Alron Pax standing there. "I am found, and I am in the Senate Forum."
"Stand before me!" Prime demanded loudly, and the Emir of The Torus Heights nodded and complied. Prime leaned forward a little and snarled. "Don't even try to tell me that you had nothing to do with this."
Arlon met his glare without any sign of intimidation. "I had no part in the planning, the storming of the Forum, the freeing of the prisoners, or the initial part of the escape. But I knew of the tunnels built into this building, and I was able to guess their most likely point of exit, so I left during the commotion and waited there to meet them. They emerged, I wished them well, and I returned here."
Prime was stunned at the total disregard this…this…this animal, an animal from a pointless waste of a region, was showing him, the Prime of Cybertron. "You…wished them well? You knew where they were heading? You did nothing to stop them."
"Yes." Arlon replied disinterestedly.
Prime was flustered, but felt as presence sidle up to him. He shifted his head just enough to see that it was Rabattus Decimus standing to his right. "You are guilty of treason, Emir Pax. Were I you, I would publicly denounce Orion, strip him of the name Pax and anything else you've given him, vow to use every resource at your disposal to find him and bring him to justice, and then throw yourself upon the mercy of your Prime."
Arlon casually shifted his gaze toward Rabattus. "Lord Decimus, I thank you for your wisdom, and were I a simpering coward who put his wellbeing over his honor and integrity, I might take your words to spark." He turned his gaze back to Sentinel Prime. "But I am not. I will strive to live up to the example provided by my young kinsman and sacrifice that wellbeing to do what is right. You are less than the shadow of Orion Pax; I will never denounce him to appease one such as you."
Unbridled fury raged in Prime's optics and forced his face to contort into an ugly mask, but he slowly regained control, took on an appearance of civility and turned back to the crowd. He then looked to the media contingent. "Turn your cameras back on." They all nodded and complied, and a few moments later were broadcasting again. Sentinel smiled and addressed those in the Forum. "Hello again everyone, as you saw earlier, we were attacked by Autobot terrorists, who brought weapons into this sacred forum, assaulted us, and freed their murderous comrades. They have thus far eluded us, thanks in no small part to Arlon Pax, Emir of The Torus Heights!" Sentinel allowed the gasps of shock and disbelief wash over him. He turned to Prowl, who gave him a look of concern and a slight negative head shake. His gaze shifted over to Rabattus, who gave the opposite opinion with his nod and a clenched fist. Rabattus was right, it really did take a royal to appreciate a situation like this. Prowl definitely had his uses, but commoners were too low on the totem pole to recognize the stakes; to see the big picture.
Sentinel Prime then twisted his head forcefully and glared at the emir in question. "Do you deny these charges, Emir Pax?"
Arlon Pax raised his long head and directed his sweeping gaze over the senators. "I do not. I took no action, verbal or physical, to stop the assault led by a member of my House. I was aware of their likely point of escape, but I took no action to stop them, nor did I make this location known to Sentinel Prime's security forces. I did wait for Orion Pax and his comrades at that location, met them as they emerged, and informed Orion Pax that not only was I proud of him, but that I supported him in every way. He is right, the words he said were undeniable. Those who question them do so not out of logic and reason, but out of preservation of their way of life. I wished him good fortune, told him to continue his just fight, and then I came back here." Sentinel Prime stared at him with a stunned look on his face, one that matched everyone else in the Forum. "You are a tyrant, Sentinel Honorum. You have abused your position and authority, and made what had been a murky injustice under your predecessors crystal clear with your transgressions." Arlon turned toward the media contingent and addressed their cameras directly. "I am Arlon Pax, head of House Pax, and I am beyond proud to count Orion Pax as a member. Orion, continue the fight for justice, and always remember our words, freedom is the right of all sentient beings."
"That's enough!" Sentinel Prime roared. "You are clearly guilty! You are clearly a traitor!" He marched toward the implements that had been intended for the execution of the Autobot prisoners, past the large device for the dual impaling/decapitating executions and hoisted up the large axe that had been intended to decapitate the yellow feralitron. The crowd gasped at seeing him grab the axe, turn, and march back toward the four-legged emir. "You are clearly a greater danger to the government and to planetary peace and security than a typical terrorist, and therefore, you are clearly deserving of the most final punishment I can deliver!"
Arlon still refused to display any sign of fear or intimidation as he looked up at the Prime. "Then do what you must, Sentinel."
"Your grace!" Prowl called out, but the savage glare from Prime silenced him. Prime shifted his gaze toward Rabattus, who gave him a supportive nod. Only a fellow royal could understand.
Prime stomped to the side of Arlon Pax and raised the axe high over his head. "Make peace with your Creator, Pax!" The cries of protest from the crowd washed over him, leaving no imprint on his mind or impact on his course of action. He focused solely on Arlon's face, which twisted ever so slightly to display a hint of a grin on his bestial mouth. The axe came down.
