Sparkplug
It was easier when he was just a Marine. Or just in the Secret Service. Or in the Extra-Terrestrial Defense Force prior to getting to know the extra-terrestrials. Back then they were just an abstract threat, well, perhaps not that abstract, he had been friends with Alpha Trion for years even before meeting Nightbeat the day Jack was assassinated. But it wasn't until the Americans and a few advisors from other countries had started working directly with the Autobots that things had gotten really complicated. And based on Wheeljack's reaction to the transmission that had come in, it was about to get even more complicated. The conversation had been in their native language, one where most sounds would be almost impossible for a human mouth to replicate, but even Wheeljack's nearly featureless face made it clear that whatever the development, it wasn't good news. "I've given you a full minute to absorb whatever you need to absorb, Wheeljack," Sparkplug called up to the fifteen-foot-tall alien, "time to let us in on what that call was about."
Wheeljack's shoulders slumped as he took a few steps across the long stretch of beach with the trees and mountains of Flores positioned behind him. "We're about to have company."
"Decepticons?" The human asked, causing a bit of alarm with the other humans.
"No, but if Pax is right, they're the next worst thing for your planet." Wheeljack replied. "I hope you planted the devices and hid them exactly as I instructed you to hide them."
Sparkplug gulped. "I did, along with a few of our own."
"Even that won't be enough, but maybe we'll get lucky." Wheeljack answered as he gazed up at the sky. "And who knows, maybe they won't think to look for whatever you planted. Frankly, given who seems to be in command of this group," Wheeljack nodded for Sparkplug to follow his stare into the sky, where an alien craft was descending through the clouds toward their position, "you could probably hide Unicron under this dirt and his dumbass wouldn't notice."
"Uni-what?" Sparkplug asked absently as he watched the ship lower to the ground and come to a landing, no indication given that he cared that his question wasn't answered. "Who are these guys?"
"Representatives of Guardian Prime. The guy in charge of this group would be considered in the outer ring of Prime's inner circle. Less competent than others in the circle, but as loyal as any of them." Wheeljack replied. "Not Autobots, I'm guessing they've been instructed to play nice with Orion Pax on a superficial level, but word's out that Prime and Pax are no longer best buddies."
The ramp to the ship started to lower and a large, bulbous robot that seemed to blur the lines between machine and human came barreling out over the not fully lowered slat of metal, hopping to the ground. Sparkplug was mystified as to how a robot could look to be both bearded and fat, but there was no question that this was a Cybertronian. The newcomer looked down at Sparkplug, then up at Wheeljack with a nod back in Sparkplug's direction. Wheeljack somehow seemed to know what he was asking. "American." The fat green robot nodded, but then a puzzled look came over his face. "English, they speak English. Which is why I'm speaking English to you now."
"Right!" The green robot belted out in a deep, gravelly voice as he looked back to Sparkplug. "Name's Hound!"
"Nope." Wheeljack shook his head. "We've got a Hound, pick another one."
"What? Who?" This not-Hound bellowed. Wheeljack replied something in their native tongue, causing the newcomer to get even more agitated. "Who the hell is that guy? Why does he get to pick the name?"
"I'm sure you were given a roster of Autobots on Earth, I'm sure you're familiar with the name." Wheeljack answered. "And he got here first, so he got first dibs on name translations."
"Names are shared on Cybertron!" He snapped.
"True, but when there's less than a hundred of us on this planet, each of us getting a unique designation is feasible and practical." Wheeljack explained. "Might I suggest…Mutt. Seems to be a better fit for you anyway."
"Fine, whatever, Mutt's fine!" Mutt grumbled. "I got over two-dozen troops on that ship here to guard the entrance to the sunken island with me. You are relieved Autobot." Mutt looked down. "You too human, take your forces and vacate the area."
"Sorry to be the one to tell you this, Mutt, but first, I don't have the authority to pull our forces back." Sparkplug defiantly replied. "Secondly, once those that do hear your request, I'm pretty sure that they'll tell you that they cannot comply. This is our world, and the means to destroy it is sitting through that cave back there." Sparkplug thumbed behind him. "So, since we are going to be spending some time together, let's say we get to know one another. My name is Captain William Witwicky, but you Cybertronians call me Sparkplug."
"I don't care." Mutt grumbled as he marched forward, past Wheeljack and Sparkplug toward the unseen entrance to the cave hidden in the treeline behind them as the other Cybertronian soldiers filed out of the ship. "Just stay out of our way. Our feet are coming down, whether you are under them or not."
000000
Delta Magnus
The hail, some unknown function built into the fabric of this armor, had summoned him here, to the seat of Nyonian power, or at least what had been the seat of Nyonian power years ago. Having landed and hidden the shuttle he had recently stolen from some Decepticons he had eliminated several miles from the rendezvous point, Delta Magnus drove up to the gate, the lone entrance to the three-hundred-foot-tall wall stemming from the westernmost portion of Wyvern Peak, completely encasing the grounds of the Draconyx Lair, and linking back to the largest mountain of the Nagaxas Range at southeastern point on the Wyvern. The vast gate had originally been called the Mouth of Onyx, but after Saurus Onyx had marched his officers and elite warriors out of the compound to lead their awaiting legions to eradicate House Convoy, it had taken on the unofficial moniker of Doom's Maw, a name that had been so widely adopted that after twelve million years precious few were even aware of the original name.
The large transport transformed directly into the Magnus armor that made up the transport trailer and Delta Magnus marched his hulking twenty-eight-foot-tall frame to the doors of the Maw, pushing it open. While the Onyx's were alive and in power, the impressive locks on these gates would have been activated and dozens of well-armed guards would have been positioned to stop or kill any unexpected visitors, but the Decepticons had taken care of those guards. Anyone else to have visited the Lair in the ensuing years had no inclination or desire to re-engage the locks. The courtyard was empty, as were the outer buildings; every cart, machine, pot, tray, pickaxe; anything of value had long since been scooped up by the townsfolk in the wake of the Decepticon raid. Delta Magnus didn't need to inspect the interiors of the various buildings around the grounds to know they were every bit as ransacked as the courtyards were, so he ignored them and continued on.
The hulking emir marched across the front courtyard toward the towering entrance to the core structure of the Draconyx Lair, commonly referred to as the Dragon Skull, the entrance to the Lair proper built into the base of Wyvern Peak. The massive double doors were pushed open with ease by Delta Magnus, he strode in expecting to see a ransacked and desolate expanse but was confronted by the glow of an activated ambiance wall giving off its soft illumination and mild heat, the shadow of a chair in front of it stretching to the center of the vast entrance chamber, and in that chair was tall, lean figure facing the ambiance wall away from Magnus. His plasma rifle was immediately raised toward the figure. "Who are you?"
The figure stood, the dim lighting obscuring the features, but the frame was an extremely imposing thirty feet in height, though slenderly built. Despite the dim lighting and flickering pink glow coming from behind the form, Delta Magnus recognized the individual as soon as she turned to face him and relaxed his grip on the rifle. The Mistress of Flame took a few steps forward before snarling back at him. "This answers your question, now tell me who you are!"
Shit. The truth was a terrible option, but the charade wouldn't work with certain individuals, and the Mistress of Flame was one of those individuals. That left killing or intimidating her, and while she was at least in part responsible for what had happened to Delta Magnus, the real Delta Magnus as well as himself, he knew he could not bring himself to kill her. And intimidating religious zealots frequently proved to be problematic, if not impossible. The least horrible option was simply to be evasive and leave. "Who do you think I am?" He blurted out before turning back to the door but raised his rifle as he heard footsteps approaching from the outside. The Mistress marched forward, about to snarl something, but he turned his head halfway toward her and hissed. "Silence!" Rage came over her face, but only for a moment as she too heard the approach.
A moment later a form very much like his entered the vast receiving area, almost identical apart from the coloration, and who was the one person he had hoped to avoid even more than the enraged priestess behind him. Ultra Magnus sauntered in, weapons mounted all over his frame though none in his hands or aligned against Delta Magnus. "Nice armor." Ultra Magnus growled ominously.
Delta Magnus looked to the floor and shook his head. "Let me guess, you mentioned that Delta Magnus was taking out Decepticon troops to the Mistress of Flame, assuming that she would have some method of contacting me via the armor."
"It was a longshot." Ultra confirmed. "Honestly, I thought you'd be too smart to actually show up."
"You used me?" The Mistress snarled. Ultra sent her a glare, almost challenging her to press her perceived grievance against him, and too her credit, she seemed to realize that any rage she could bear him paled to the justified rage he held against her.
Ultra Magnus's glare softened to one of annoyance as he addressed her. "You've served your purpose; you can go now."
The Mistress of Flame readopted her aggressive demeanor and stepped toward Ultra Magnus ready to shout him down, but once again she was interrupted. "No, she can't." More heavy footsteps could be heard mixed in with the words, many of them, and within seconds the five gladiators turned Autobot known collectively as the Dracobots entered and were standing around Ultra Magnus. The speaker, the one Delta Magnus knew to be designated Snarl, continued speaking. "Seems you were right on both counts, Magnus. She led us to him, and he's led the Predacons to us."
"It's about time that highborn education paid off." The hulking Grimlock grumbled, the comment graciously ignored by Ultra Magnus.
"You really have no business wearing that armor, Ambus!" Ultra Magnus growled at the bearer of the other set of Magnus Armor.
"Ambus?" The Mistress gasped, but realization came over her. "Of course, your body was never recovered, just like Delta's."
"Aren't you five wanted?" Delta Magnus spat at the Dracobots to deflect attention from himself and noting the apparent surprise coming from them continued. "I still have methods of keeping my audio processors to the ground."
Grimlock chuckled. "We are. Swiping Trepan forced us to go underground but like with the fire witch and her dead boyfriend that you're impersonating, Magnus, the real Magnus, had a way of contacting us." The massive former gladiator shrugged. "Don't worry about Trepan, we left some vittles in his bowl."
Delta Magnus looked to Ultra. "Guardian Prime will court martial you when he finds out who you've employed to help you here."
"The plan was to keep our apprehension of you beneath his notice." Ultra Magnus replied to his faux kinsman. "I claim Delta's armor and inner frame from you, and I remand you to Minimus. But word that the Predacons had been sent to eliminate you got to me, so I felt it would be prudent to have some added muscle."
Delta turned to Grimlock. "And you're helping him out of some absurd Autobot loyalty?"
Grimlock nodded. "Yes. And, because we wanted something Snarl swears is still hidden at the Draconyx Lair, and the real Magnus provided us some intel to find it as well as a ride here." He looked to the Mistress of Flame. "Ultra Magnus telling you that the ghost of your ex had last been reported in Simfur was my idea. I knew you'd insist on meeting at the Lair, or at least near here. The only thing worse than a royal is a royal sycophant who feels entitled to royal trappings."
Ultra Magnus looked to Grimlock. "They know he's here; they probably wouldn't be surprised she and I are here meeting with him, but unless they saw you…" Magnus let that hang, hoping Grimlock would take the cue.
"There used to be no shortage of furniture, and statues, and other pieces of ornate, self-glorifying Onyx shit strewn about in here for us to hide behind." Grimlock muttered, followed by his hand waving over the empty expanse. "But as you can see, anything we can take cover behind has long since been looted. You don't need a highborn education to appreciate the element of surprise, but we don't get to have it here and now."
"Especially against the Preds." Swoop added. "They'd sense us the moment they walked in."
"You're right about that, Wings." Two massive horned robots growled from behind Swoop, prompting the Dracobots to move further into the receiving hall and make room. Behind and between the two hulking frames walked their leader, Razorclaw, his twenty-four-foot-tall frame powerful and jagged looking, but if anything, it wasn't intimidating enough given his deadliness in combat. The visored and mouth-plated head of the Predacon leader turned to Grimlock and gave him a respectful nod. "Your team being here certainly does complicate things."
"It's surprising how often that's said to us." Swoop replied mirthfully.
"No, it's not." Razorclaw replied, his gravelly voice devoid of mirth. "You've been an annoying nuisance to everyone you've ever come into contact with your entire lives."
"Look to the eastern and western windows." Grimlock grumbled, ignoring the insult but finally returning the respectful nod to Razorclaw. "Two shit stains unaccounted for, their quickest members."
The moment the words were uttered two windows on either side of the hall exploded and a winged, predominantly black form burst in on the eastern side, while a sleek but powerful red form burst into the west. The Autobots, Delta Magnus and even the Mistress of Flame immediately took defensive postures, and the battle commenced. The intense savagery overtook the entire antechamber, sword slashes, weapon's fire, and limb strikes exploded everywhere, but within moments it was clear that the Predacons were being overwhelmed and pushed back toward the entranceway.
"What the fuck were you thinking, Claw?" Slag belted out with laugh as he swung his blade at Tantrum, backing the horned Predacon back toward the rest of the Decepticon team. "We consistently whipped your ass in the pits, and now we have a pair of jackasses in Magnus armor with us!"
"Predacons, retreat!" Razorclaw snarled dejectedly as he turned and led his team to and through the door leading to the courtyard.
"Great opportunity to be rid of one of Megatron's most effective squads." Ultra Magnus yelled out.
"Something's not right." Grimlock muttered. Delta Magnus and the Autobots ignored Grimlock's hesitation and barreled toward the doors, giving chase to the retreating Decepticons. "Razorclaw doesn't fuck up this badly." Despite his misgivings, Grimlock followed his comrades, with the Mistress of Flame following cautiously behind him.
The warriors piled out into courtyard, and the Autobots and Delta Magnus were quick to surround the Predacons. The Decepticons balled in back-to-back with each other, appearing tense at first, but then seemed the exude an air of mirth, the three with unhidden facial features displayed broad smiles. Razorclaw looked to Grimlock and nodded before addressing his troops. "Predacons…merge."
"FUCK!" Grimlock roared and opened fire, but the reconfiguring Predacons maintained their cohesion until the uniting was completed, and an eighty-five-foot tall behemoth was towering over them.
"Shit, they're a Devastator." Swoop groaned.
"The term is gestalt." The giant corrected with a voice that boomed like thunder, a massive broadsword made up of the Predacons' five individual swords in his spiked right hand, and a canon with a telescoping barrel mounted on his left forearm. "The name is Predaking! You should know it, as it will be in the historical data tracks as the one that killed you all."
"A lot more eloquent than Devastator." Snarl pointed out.
"So, a Defens…"
"Silence!" Magnus interrupted Sludge's comment, then pointed at the towering Predaking, then to Delta Magnus and the Mistress of Flame. "Classified! How do you guys even know about that yet?"
"DIE!" The giant roared before stomping down toward Delta Magnus, who lunged to the left, barely missing the crushing strike. Predaking growled in frustration, but immediately planted his kicking foot, pivoted, and delivered a second quick kick that impacted solidly against the Mistress of Flame's torso, sending her frame flying back six dozen yards into the perimeter wall of the lair.
The Mistress of Flame impacted heavily against the wall, bodily fluids shot out from her mouth as well as various lacerations caused by the kick. Her mouth was open to call out as she fell from the wall to the metal ground below, but no sound escaped her metal lips.
"Fuck he's fast!" Snarl called out worriedly. "He ain't no Defensor, that's for…"
"Hey!" Ultra Magnus objected again while launching a pair of shoulder-mounted rockets at the giant with many bestial heads mounted on his frame.
"Oh, fuck off!" Grimlock snapped as he too fired ineffectively at the giant. "Whatever secret gestalt shit we have is obsolete in light of this Hand-damned thing!" The leader of the Dracobots turned to his team and barked out his instructions. "Swoop, scoop up the witch and put some distance between her and this thing!" Grimlock transformed into his bipedal beast mode and charged the giant. "Slag, Sludge, Snarl, transform, melee strike and fade tactics, Magnii, pot-shot this fucking thing!"
"Will do, but…" Ultra Magnus unloaded his rifle into Predaking's head, "one, you don't give me orders, two, House Magnus hates the term Magnii, and three, this shitbag isn't a Magnus!"
"Duly fucking noted!" Grimlock snarled as his powerful legs launched him upward toward Predaking, his massive jaws clamping onto the sword-wielding forearm of the giant, who was distracted by Slag and Sludge ramming his legs from the sides and Snarl slamming his razor-sharp tail blades into his lower legs from behind. Though distracting, Predaking weathered all the attacks without damage, and flung Grimlock off his arm, tossing the metal dracosaur into the wall of the Draconyx Lair with a crashing thud. He then planted his left foot and kicked at Slag with his right, catching the evading quadruped with a glancing blow that sent him skipping across the metal ground of the courtyard almost all the way to the outer wall. Sludge and Snarl repositioned themselves, knowing that they'd be dodging strikes soon themselves, but maintained their assault on the gestalt. The winged Swoop, in bestial mode, swung in and started striking Predaking from above when openings presented themselves to him.
From an angle behind and to the side of the giant, Delta Magnus unloaded on the massive creature's upper back, wings, and predominantly orange head, but the assault was causing minimal damage. His focus was suddenly diverted to Ultra Magnus pulling at his shoulder. "Hey, this thing is here for you!" Ultra Magnus then nodded to the Mistress, gently laid out on the ground near the outer wall. "Grab her, get to your transport, and get the hell out of here! We will keep him busy until you are gone."
"No, I can't just abandon you to that thing!" Delta Magnus objected.
"Relax, the plan isn't to go down fighting." Ultra replied, squeezing off a few rounds at the quickly moving Predaking as he did so. "Once you're clear, we're going to head into the Draconyx Lair. He's too big to chase us through there, so either they separate, and we kill them, or they stay out here and we're safe inside. So just grab the witch and get the hell out of here!" Delta nodded, then sprinted over to the Mistress, and peeled her out of the metal ground. "And Ambus!" He turned to Ultra Magnus. "House Magnus will be getting what's rightfully theirs! Count on that!" Delta nodded, then turned, leaned the Mistress against his back, and transformed so that she fell onto the top of his trailer section. A moment later they were rounding through the gates, out of the courtyard, into and through the small, abandoned village outside the gate, and speeding away from the fray, toward the shuttle he had arrived in. His rearview cameras caught some of the action visible through the open gates, the Autobots taking pot-shots at this Predaking in the rare moments they were narrowly evading his strikes.
Minutes later he pulled to a stop next to the hastily camouflaged shuttle, transformed, laid the Mistress gingerly across the now mostly dirt-covered ground, and started tossing the trees and bushes he had laid over the craft when he arrived. "Hang tight Mistress, I'll get you some help shortly."
"No, Dominus Ambus," she sputtered, "no, it will be too late. It'll be hours to get me medical help, I have seconds, minutes at most. Come here, bear witness to my final words."
Delta Magnus ran over and knelt next to her, intent on proving her wrong, but at seeing the damage to her frame up close, the thick mixture of fluids flowing out of multiple cuts in her thin, delicate frame, he realized that she was right. "I will do my best to save you, Mistress."
"Don't bother." She whispered. "Hear me, my life is inconsequential, but my mission is of the utmost importance. The Qui Rodit Devorantem is real, he walks among us. He was not Delta Magnus."
"Yes, let me guess," the faux Delta grumbled, "it is Orion Pax."
"No." The dying Mistress whispered. "No, Orion Pax is something else, perhaps even greater, but he is not the One Who Gnaws the Devourer. That is an Autobot named Hot…" she sputtered out a fluid-filled cough, but pressed on, "Hot Rod." She reached up and grabbed Delta Magnus by the shoulder. "Protect him, see that he is ready for his destiny."
"Who in the pit is Hot Rod?" Delta Magnus met her stare as he asked, but then seemed to dismiss the question and shook his head. "No. This prophecy of yours directly led to Delta Magnus's death. And even if you're right this time, a prophecy known to those intended to live it out is undoubtedly spoiled or forced into being by that knowledge. All of which means nothing to me anyway, as I worship at the altar of science. Your insipid, simple-minded need for a god will not guide my actions. Nay, I will do this Autobot, whoever he may be, a favor and not burden him with this nonsensical gibberish."
The Mistress of Flame opened her mouth to object, but the sounds of trees smashing in the distance pulled Delta Magnus's attention away from her. He knew it was Predaking coming for him. Ultra Magnus and the Dracobots must either have escaped or fallen, and now the giant was coming for him. He lifted her dying frame to bring her into the craft but realized that the monster would be upon them well before he would be able to pilot the craft off the ground. He turned, Mistress of Flame still cradled in his massive arms, and peered up over the tree line at the red, black, and orange head, shoulders, and wings of the advancing gestalt. Magnus and Grimlock had bought him some time, just not enough. He had no chance against this thing alone, and was starting to accept his fate, smiling as what he had long known would happen was about to happen; death at Decepticon hands. But as he looked up at Predaking, he saw Swoop flapping at him from behind the giant, hauling Grimlock in beast mode in his talons. Swoop flung Grimlock at the giant, the Dracobot leader landing heavily on the giant's left shoulder and chomping down on his helmet, flames erupting from his mouth and engulfing the gestalt's cranium, but while the bite and flames served as an effective distraction, they didn't seem to cause any real damage.
Swoop flung down and flapped his wings to hover over the Delta Magnus impersonator. "Get on board and get the slag out of here!" Delta nodded but heard timber snapping and looked up at Predaking, having swatted Grimlock off and continued marching toward him. A huge crashing noise thundered through the clearing as Ultra Magnus in truck mode and Slag in beast mode rammed the back of Predaking's legs, causing him to stumble and then turn to deal with them. "NOW!"
Delta sent one last glance toward the fray and saw a stampeding Sludge charging to aid his comrades. Delta turned and carried the Mistress into the ship, placed her on the ground wondering whether she was even still alive, and then realizing he hadn't seen Snarl out there and started wondering the same about him. He leapt into the cockpit and slid into the pilot's chair, powering up the craft with a few flips of switches and gripped the yoke. An array of viewscreens sparkled to life, one displaying the battle and revealing that Predaking was just about upon him, easily close enough to swat down any attempt to lift off. Suddenly the Autobots broke off their attack, prompting Predaking to pause in confusion, and a moment later a series of very high-powered explosions erupted against his upper body, staggering him and sending him stumbling into the trees again. Another viewscreen showed the source of the attack, an advanced and clearly deep-space worthy ship swung in, circled to a hovering patten above them, and continued to unload on the Predacon gestalt. "Delta Ambus, or whatever the hell your name is," Snarl's voice came through the speaker, "get the hell out of here!"
"Aye." Delta nodded, and lifted the craft off the ground, rising a few hundred feet, marveling at the quality of the craft that Snarl had somehow managed to find. "I take it that thing is what you boys were hoping to find here."
"Yeah, I'd heard tell of Ogrus's space cruiser." Snarl's voice came through the speaker as Delta watched the black craft in his viewscreen lift higher and farther from Predaking without breaking off the assault on the bestial gestalt. "Always rumors about shit the royals own, most nonsense, but I always was good at sifting through the bullshit and finding the nuggets of truth. The 'Cons only cared about the dragon, the peasants only knew about the shiny baubles in plain sight, the servants knew enough to clean out the armory, energon and hidden baubles, but it took a few deep penetration scans from a government satellite for me to know where to look, which was our fee to help Magnus, the real Magnus. Some boom-boom to open the door, a list of codewords Swoop and I came up with drawing upon memories of Ogrus's ego, and here we are. So yeah, turns out I know what the fuck I'm talking about, you'd think that ol' Grimlock would have learned to stop doubting me by now."
"Enough of that." Ultra Magnus's voice cut through. "How's the Mistress of Flame?"
Delta Magnus muted the comms channel and switched on the internal scanning function. "Scan for life functions in the passenger section."
A moment later the lifeless voice replied. "None present. Residual readings from Alura of Oncrax Minor, the most recent Mistress of Flame, confirm that her spark has faded, she no longer lives."
Delta Magnus unmuted the channel. "She didn't make it; I'll see that her frame gets to a Primal Cathedral. I…I'm sorry."
"My fault, not yours." Ultra Magnus replied through the speaker. Delta gave one last glance at the Autobots carefully withdrawing from Decepticon giant below and shot out through the sky. "Dominus Ambus," Ultra Magnus's voice came through the speaker one more time, "I will find you again."
"I know."
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Prowl
"The Acting Commander of the Galactic Council will see you now." The nine-foot-tall orange and white-skinned organic addressed the Autobots in the waiting room equipped with dozens of chairs of widely varying sizes, all empty around the Cybertronians, but the chairs lined against the walls, the ones farthest from the Autobots had many aliens seated in them, the occupants of those chairs all staring at the Cybertronians with terror in their organic eyes.
Prowl looked to his companions, Orion Pax and Ironhide, and nodded. "Time to find out if taking this meeting was just a ploy to get revenge on Cybertronians or not."
"Ahm thinkin' you'd be OK with that just so you could tell Pax that yah told him so." Ironhide spat out as they all stood up slowly, sending looks to the other species spread throughout the room that seemed to convey an almost apologetic sense of understanding. The three giant mechanoids then followed the smaller orange and white organic out of the waiting chamber and through a long hallway, a hallway lined with heavily armed twenty-five-foot-tall organic but thickly armored guards. "Ya may hafta blurt that 'tol ya so' out quick, Prowl, these boys are lookin' ready ta' fire once this trap is sprung."
"I genuinely believe that the prospect of a Cybertronian with an army expressing an interest in opposing Guardian Prime is alluring enough for them to at least hear us out." Orion replied. "That said," he peered up and down the hall at the lines of guards, "there sure are a lot of guns."
"Did I not tell you that there'd be a lot of guns?" Prowl grumbled.
"Yeah, but ya' always say there'll be a lotta guns." Ironhide replied.
"Because there are always going to be a lot of guns!" Prowl snapped just as they got to the end of the hallway and stopped before a set of large double-doors.
The smaller organic turned and waved his hand toward the doors. "Captain K'Gard awaits."
"Captain?" Ironhide mumbled. "Seems a bit low-rung for overall command of tha' Council's military."
"Should Captain K'Gard wish to discuss that with you, he will." The alien replied before walking back down the hallway that they'd just come through.
The three looked at the doors. "I have another prediction." Prowl muttered. "There's going to be a shitload of guns on the other side of these doors too." They then moved forward, pushing the doors apart and entering a vast receiving chamber where, per Prowl's prediction, dozens of guards similarly armed and armored as those in the hallway stood in a semi-circular pattern protecting a massive judge's bench with an olive-colored, slender, four-armed organic with gunmetal gray armor over his shoulders and a similarly colored hat that seemed to imply some sort of military significance.
The organic 'judge' smiled down at them from behind his vast bench. "How right you were in your prediction…" he looked down, presumably at a screen in front of him, "Prowl. But considering my predecessor's fate, I think you understand the necessity of these guns." He then looked to Ironhide. "And…" he once again looked down, "Ironhide, you are correct, it's unheard of for a Captain to take up the role of Acting Commander, but much of our leadership was assassinated in an act of Cybertronian treachery."
"Tha' whole galaxy saw the unedited recordings," Ironhide shot back, "seems to me an' everyone else that the Council brought the treac…" Orion Pax placing his hand on Ironhide's shoulder prompted the red Autobot to stop talking.
Orion stepped forward, palms out in a display of submission. "What happened between the government of Cybertron and the Galactic Council is most regrettable, and could have easily been avoided. It is my fervent desire that going forward my planet and your organization have a more productive and mutually beneficial relationship with one another."
"Why are you here?" K'Gard snapped.
Pax nodded. "I believe that the goals of the Autobots, the Cybertronian organization that I serve, and the Galactic Council are aligned regarding an organic world on the edge of the galaxy. Goals that run contrary to those of Guardian Prime."
K'Gard stared silently for several moments before nodding and replying. "And what are these shared goals of ours regarding this organic world?"
"That it is not purged of organic life and be made into a wholly cybernetic world." Orion answered. He noted the shock in the eyes of the alien and continued. "Guardian Prime has the technology available to make that happen on this world, and the means and ambition to expand that to other organic worlds." Orion took a step forward and steeled his gaze upon the slender, green-skinned alien. "That is the purpose of the Galactic Council, isn't it?"
"Mechanoids do not dictate the purpose of the Galactic Council!" K'Gard snapped. "Nor will they ever determine our course of action!"
Orion nodded, keeping his cool. "I am not here to dictate or determine, merely to relay a situation that I felt you would be interested in. The planet in question is called Earth by the sole higher-level native species, a species that numbers more than three and a quarter billion in number. While possessing a life span that is counted in decades, the intellectual potential of individuals of this species is on par with Cybertronians and most Council member species. There are also millions of lower-level species that would be wiped out of existence by Guardian Prime's intentions. This planet has trillions of living entities. I mean to keep it that way, which means conflict with my planet's leader and his armies." The Autobot Commander cocked his head. "So, is this a situation that interests you?"
K'Gard leaned back and looked over Orion Pax, considering both him and what he said before finally responding, a poorly hidden gleam in his opaque eyes. "I appreciate your situation and admire your stance. And I wish you the greatest of fortune." He leaned forward. "And were the situation different, specifically regarding our military resources, I would be inclined to help you. We certainly have every reason to stand against Guardian Prime and his machinations, but we're not in a position to do that at this time." K'Gard stood. "Go safely and with our blessing, but you will be facing Guardian Prime on your own. Dismissed."
Orion stared at him for a few moments before turning but called out as he and the other two Cybertronians made their way to the door. "I appreciate your time, Acting Commander K'Gard, just know that I intend to defend Earth from all threats, not just Guardian Prime." With that they walked through the doors, down the long, guard-lined corridor and re-entered the waiting chamber, where the throngs of organic aliens milled about throughout the room, having felt more comfortable with the Cybertronians having left. Many seemed to be focused on a pair of a particular species, one appearing to be a twelve-foot-tall adult, the other a juvenile roughly half the adult's stature, both humanoid in shape, brownish green skin, and roughly a couple dozen long protuberances on their heads.
All eyes turned to the returning Cybertronians, and nearly every creature in the chamber became noticeably nervous. But the reactions of the brown-green aliens were quite different at locking eyes on Orion Pax. The adult's reaction was one of jubilant surprise but was almost immediately quelled and replaced by a feigned look of disinterest. The child was awestruck and made no attempt to hide it. Prowl assumed that it was because this was likely the first time the child had seen a mechanoid but noticed that the juvenile's optics were locked on Orion and Orion alone. Not surprising, Orion was the most physically imposing of the three of them, but a glance at either he or Ironhide seemed appropriate at some point.
"Ah, esteemed guests!" The greeter that had escorted the Autobots to the receiving chamber appeared in the waiting area with great excitement. "It is always a treat to receive visitors from Lenocinium Velnero 117. May I know your names?"
"Many thanks for the kind greetings." The adult brown-green alien replied. "I am Lezout, and this is my offspring Varta."
"How may we be of assistance to you, oh great clairvoyant?" The greeter asked graciously.
The alien from Lenocinium Velnero laughed lightly. "As I'm sure you are aware, we have long since maintained the policy of sharing none of our advanced knowledge with others, but we would like to avail ourselves of some of your services. It has been explained to me that every Galctic Council vessel and station is equipped with an immersion chamber designed to provide members of my species a way of acclimating themselves to the current time and environment. Varta and I have recently come out of temporal displacement and are unaware of when we landed."
"Of course." The greeter nodded his understanding, indicating that this was not the first time he had encountered this species or this problem. "Right this way." He directed them down a small hallway off to the side, the Autobots barely taking notice as they too started toward another exit from the waiting chamber.
The two aliens followed the greeter, but just as they got to the entrance to the hallway the younger alien turned and looked directly at Orion Pax, calling out. "I really like your mouth, sir."
"Varta!" The father growled, scolding his offspring before looking up at Orion Pax, who was gazing back at them with a look of utter confusion. "I apologize stranger, the trip we have been on has left my offspring discombobulated. Please do not take any offense."
Orion shrugged. "None taken."
The greeter and two odd aliens turned back and disappeared down the hallway, and the Autobots continued toward the far end of the waiting chamber in the direction of their docking bay. "Weird," Ironhide muttered to the two of them, "never really gave it much thought, but Ah' guess yah really do have a purdy mouth, Pax."
Prowl let the words wash over him, giving them no attention. Instead, he considered all that he'd heard from and about the aliens, as well as taking notice of how every other being in the waiting area seemed to be making some sort of note regarding the interaction that had just happened, as though anything these Lenocinium Velnerions said and did hold tremendous value and came to an unlikely conclusion. The Autobots may or may not succeed in their current endeavor, but based on what had transpired, it seemed that Orion Pax would live long enough into the future to make an impact on these Lenocinium Velnero 117 denizens…possibly without a mouth. Of course, Prowl had no intention of sharing his interpretation; the last thing Orion Pax needed was further reason to treat his life recklessly.
000000
Soundwave
"It has been said that the fault of our failures on this Earth lies with Obsidian." Megatron shook his head as he stood upon a vast boulder, Soundwave standing on the ground beside it. "It's been said that the fault belongs to Strika. Again, wrong." A cold, terrifying stare washed over the faces of almost all the Earth-stationed Decepticons arrayed upon the Death Valley sands before Megatron and his most trusted lieutenant. "And there are those, many in fact, that place the blame at the feet of Starscream." All optics turned to the light gray, red and blue Air Commander standing at the front of the assembled warriors. Megatron remained silent for a long time, a very long time, quietly staring at Starscream before finally continuing just as Starscream's defensive scowl started to become comical. "But the fault is not Starscream's." He shifted his gaze back across his troops. "The blame lies with me. The Ore-13 was an asset worth assigning the acquisition of to underlings, but from the moment I learned of the Ferrotaxis being on this world, I should have made this planet my priority. I should have attended to this matter personally. I am rectifying that error now."
Megatron leapt down from the boulder and marched forward toward and then through his assembled Decepticons, all of them parting to clear a path for their leader. Soundwave took his place behind Megatron, following him through their soldiers when a silent notification came in, a message from Laserbeak half a world away. "Decepticons, we are going to cross this continent, we will cross the eastern ocean, we will find the entrance to Jhiaxus's underwater world housing the Ferrotaxis and whatever other of his wonders are down there, and we will slaughter every Autobot and human that attempts to get in our way." Soundwave took in Laserbeak's message as Megatron galvanized his troops. "No trickery on the part of Orion Pax will delay us from taking what is ours! I will slaughter him myself, any impulse to indulge him has long since passed, he's an adult now, he's chosen to be my enemy, I will treat him as such, with no mercy whatsoever! Decepticons, scram…"
"Lord Megatron!" Soundwave called out, knowing that interrupting Megatron during such a rousing call to action could carry painful consequences, but it was necessary that Megatron be made aware of Laserbeak's report. "I have gotten word from Laserbeak. It is imperative that you read his report prior to launching any attack."
"Forward it." Megatron ordered, anger beneath the surface, but subdued as he knew Soundwave would always have a valid reason to interrupt. Soundwave did as commanded and watched as Megatron's optics dimmed as he read the message, lit back up as he finished, and a look of mild anger came over his face. "It seems our assault will have to be delayed. Guardian Prime smartened up and chose to reinforce the entrance to Jhiaxus's sunken island. According to Laserbeak, there are twenty-seven Cybertronians guarding the entrance, none of whom seem to be Autobots, so Orion Pax's forces coming to their aid could present us with foes numbering in the mid-forties." Megatron gritted his teeth. "That number coupled with them having a dug-in and fortified position, it may be more than we can over-run." The gritted teeth gave way to a mild grin. "At least for now." Megatron took a few steps toward Soundwave and stopped before him. "Open a channel to Shockwave."
"A message to Cybertron will force me to use more than my daily energon rations." Soundwave replied.
"I authorize the excess, open the channel." Megatron instructed, getting a nod from Soundwave, a few moments as the Communications Commander made the necessary adjustments, and getting another nod as Shockwave answered the hail on the other end. "Shockwave, do you read me?"
"Aye Megatron, what would you have of me?" The voice of the ranking Decepticon on Cybertron came through.
"Where are we with Trypticon's…enhancements?" Megatron asked.
"Fortuitous timing, Lord Megatron." Shockwave's emotionless voice replied. "I have been told that the finishing touches are being put on now. I anticipate that all but the aesthetics will be completed within three to four hours."
"Excellent news, Shockwave, keep me apprised of any updates or changes, and when he is officially ready." Megatron smiled. "Megatron out." The Decepticon Commander nodded for Soundwave to close the channel and turned to look over his soldiers. "I suppose that for now, we wait."
000000
Jazz
"Alright, esteemed Cybertronian guests, we are all assembled." The standing, horseshoe bald American addressed the two Autobots in the secret subterranean chamber with many other humans seated around him. "Representatives from all fifteen member nations of the United Nations Security Council are present and ready to hear what you have to report."
Jazz looked to Ratchet, who just shrugged and nodded, prompting Jazz to step forward as the American ambassador to the UN took his seat. "Thank you, Ambassador Stevenson, and greetings to all ambassadors and support personnel for Security Council nations. We appreciate you all coming here on short notice and providing this space for us to meet. Unfortunately, what we have to report cannot wait to go through the typical channels."
"You are aliens," the Soviet Ambassador replied, "there are no typical channels. This is unprecedented."
"Yes, Ambassador Fedorenko, I suppose that's true." Jazz responded with a smile. "I do not mean to alarm you all, but we are obligated to inform you of the likelihood that the Decepticons may not be the only threat you face. We are now all but certain that the government of Cybertron intends to activate the Ferrotaxis on your world."
As expected, the humans were alarmed, even outraged. "The Cybertronian government that you Autobots surrendered the entrance to?" The American Ambassador yelled accusingly at Jazz and Ratchet. "What recourse do we have?"
"Adlai," the Soviet Ambassador reached over to his American counterpart, "perhaps a nuclear option should be explored."
"And target what, Nikolai?" Ambassador Stevenson asked agitatedly. "A planet countless lightyear from here?"
"No, the Azores." The Soviet replied.
"No!" Ratchet snapped.
"Actually," the American shot back, "not a bad idea! What do we have to lose? If it works, sacrifice well worth it. If it doesn't, we're all metal filings anyway."
"No, there are still other options!" Ratchet insisted.
"Commander Pax is currently meeting with other entities," Jazz spoke up, prompting everyone to quiet down and turn to him, "other members of the Cybertronian government, non-government affiliated Cybertronians, and other galactic entities. Specifically, one galactic peacekeeping organization that rivals, if not surpasses Guardian Prime's military might."
"You could have led with that." Ambassador Stevenson grumbled.
"You're right, I apologize." Jazz nodded. "But we haven't secured any of their cooperation just yet. Commander Pax should be back on Earth within a few hours, hopefully he'll have good news for us at that point."
"If they're galactic peacekeepers, why would they not help us?" Ambassador Fedorenko asked in Russian-accented English despite the robots being fully fluent in all contemporary Earth languages.
"I'm of the same opinion, but we cannot assume their involvement." Ratchet clarified.
Ambassador Stevenson nodded, glaring at the two Autobots. "So, you're suggesting that all we can do is sit tight and pray."
Jazz nodded. "Yes sir, I'm afraid that's what we're suggesting."
000000
Emir Xaaron
"Elita One," the guard called into the room through the door he had opened slightly, "the new Emir of Ultrix wishes for an audience with you."
Xaaron looked into the large office to see Elita turn her gaze from the monitor on her desk toward the doorway, a grin growing across her face as she saw them. "Of course, Tidepool, please send him in." Elita rose from her seated position and rounded her desk as the guard, Tidepool, nodded for Xaaron to enter and disappeared back into the waiting area outside her office. Xaaron closed the door behind him and turned to find Elita One had stopped fifteen feet from him, staring at him with a wide smile. "The first common-born citizen to become an Emir in Cybertronian history." She walked forward and they embraced. "No one is more deserving, my friend."
"House Modus, what remains of it, feels otherwise." Xaaron chuckled. "They claim that the election was fixed and have sent formal challenges to the Senate and to Prime himself. Though the claims they've made have been debunked quite easily, and the little evidence that they've provided has proven to be fraudulent. Despite that, they're still insisting that the election was stolen from Exceedus Modus."
Elita laughed as well. "Those with all the resources at their disposal claiming those with less not only pulled off what is damn near impossible, but did so without leaving any fingerprints?" She shrugged and waved her hand to offer him a seat on the couch. "I'd say welcome to politics, but you've been fighting in this swamp for much longer than I've been alive; longer than most who still live have been alive." Xaaron took a seat on the couch and watched as Elita settled back into her chair. "I've missed you, my friend. It seems like yesterday that I was six months old and Exponum was giving me a very amateur tour of the Senate chambers, and we ran into you."
Xaaron laughed at the memory. "He really knew nothing about that facility outside of the main Senate chamber." He shook his head sadly at remembering his friend was long gone. "But he still knew more about the senate than most emirs."
"You certainly rescued him that day. You provided us both an excellent tour." Elita chuckled. "He was quick to tell me that everyone, even the One, was fallible, but he hated providing proof of it."
"Fallible, yes." Xaaron nodded sadly. "But Exponum One was far less than most." He smiled at Elita. "He was right to be grooming you the way he did. By the way, I wasn't the only one to win an election. Congratulations."
Elita shrugged. "Well, I didn't have to run against a legendary senator. Things may not have gone my way if I had."
"You'd still have won." Xaaron smiled. "House Solus, and you in particular, have always been beloved by all of Axiom, and with good reason."
Elita displayed a bright grin. "What brings you to Axiom today? Not that you ever needed a reason to visit Exponum, and that certainly carries over for me, but I know how little free time an emir has, especially in this age of rebuilding."
A cloud fell over Xaaron's face, his optics darted downward, and he once again went over how he wanted to phrase what he needed to convey. "You're right, who has time for social visits these days?" He looked back up and locked onto Elita One's optics. "I am here on official business. Guardian Prime summoned me to Cybertropolis yesterday, ostensibly to discuss the protestations House Modus had to my ascension to Emir, and while that did come up, it was…well, the situation was used as leverage for another task he required of me."
Elita stared intently at the yellow-bodied and silver-helmeted fellow emir for a moment, initially confusion in her optics, but quickly replaced by what appeared to be sad realization, almost as though she had been expecting this message, but not from this messenger. She looked away before speaking. "Go on."
"He suggested that while the Modus claims are baseless, they have enough support to be a true impediment to my emirship, possibly even overturn it in certain circumstances." The exasperated Xaaron explained. "As Prime, Guardian could squash the situation, clear my path to leadership of Ultrix, but he was currently overwhelmed with other matters that left him no time to aid in my situation. It then seemingly occurred to him at that moment that perhaps there was something I could do that would lighten his load, thereby making his intervention in my election issues possible."
"And what did he require of you to lighten his load?" Elita asked, apparently fully aware of what Xaaron was about to say.
"As someone who has shown support for Orion Pax and the Autobots in the past, he needed me to clarify that my loyalties are to Cybertron." Xaaron paused for several tense moments before adding on to his statement. "And then to meet with other planetary leaders who have been supportive of Orion and/or the Autobots and assess where they stand, and if they're undecided, convince them to stand with Cybertron."
Elita One nodded, then looked down at the Autobrand on her chest. "I see."
"Support of the Autobots, or even being an Autobot, that's not a major issue to Prime." Xaaron stated nervously. "He has no animosity toward them, he feels they've been a critical force for the preservation of our planet and will continue to serve as a mainstay for the protection and service of our citizens. But he is currently at an impasse with Orion Pax, one he's concluded cannot be resolved peacefully."
"I'm aware of this impasse." Elita cut in. "Something about Prime needlessly wanting to murder a planet, and Orion standing opposed to the act. Is that the impasse we're discussing?"
"I don't think Prime would use the word needlessly, but yes, that's the matter that they're at loggerheads over." Xaaron clarified. "I will be meeting with several high-ranking officials, all who have supported the Autobots in one way or another, but it's you and House Pax that I anticipate the most friction with."
"He views the Autobots, most of them anyway, of being able to fall into line." Elita muttered accusingly. "But there's no salvation for Orion Pax, and he wants you to smooth things over with those that love him most."
Xaaron lowered his gaze to the floor and whispered to himself. "Those that love him most." Unbidden images of Arlon and Torenia flowed through his head. He pushed the thoughts and memories aside and steeled himself. "Guardian Prime loves him. This conflict is tearing him apart. What he fears will happen will take and exceptional price on him, but as Prime it's one he feels he needs to pay."
"He doesn't." Elita stared holes through his optics. "Orion's right. Undeniably right." She seethed at her former friend. "And you're here to turn me against him."
Xaaron met her gaze, his look fearful and sad, but slowly a look of contentment and relief. "He knows not to ask for your support, he wants you to keep out of it entirely. As he does for House Pax." Xaaron leaned forward and tapped his chest, prompting a panel in the middle to slide open and reveal an Autobrand. "My job was to convey Prime's message, deliver your reply to him, which I'll do." Xaaron leaned even closer. "So, Elita One, what would you like me to inform Guardian Prime is your reply?"
Elita was stunned, she just stared at the Autobrand for several moments before raising her optics to Xaaron's face. "What are you playing at?"
"I'm conflicted." Xaaron answered honestly. "Gallus Honorum was chosen by the Matrix, he's our rightful Prime, history's greatest hero." The Emir of Ultrix shook his head and looked off to the side. "But you're correct, Orion's right. He's…he's always been right. And he's always faced impossible odds to defend what's right."
His gaze slowly made its way back to Elita One to see a slow, subtle smile coming over her face. "So, being favored by the Matrix is the main stumbling block for you?" She chuckled. "Let me relay a theory I was told recently. Mind you, it's just a theory, but the one who shared it with me, he's probably the only individual that can be considered an expert on the Matrix, other than Guardian Prime."
"Who are we talking about?" Xaaron asked.
Elita One leaned back in her chair and leveled her gaze at him. "Alpha Trion."
"Wha…what?" Xaaron couldn't grasp what she had just told him.
"Long story." She smiled. "Which I guess I can share with you now. Just let House Pax know that I already filled you in; should save some time. Like you, they were his next stop after me too. Others after them, I'm guessing some are on that list Prime gave you."
"Tell me." Xaaron asked. "Please."
000000
K'Gard
"Captain K'Gard," the small, purple helmsman called out to the four-armed, olive-skinned alien staring through the massive viewport that made the forward wall of the bridge, "the Benign Intervention will be ready to break out of super-luminous travel momentarily."
"Excellent, begin deceleration." He ordered.
"Exiting super-luminous factor seven." The helmsman called out. "Exiting factor six…exiting factor five…exiting factor four…exiting factor three…exiting factor two…exiting super-luminous speed, phasing into maximum impulse." He announced. "Super-luminous travel has taken us beyond the fourth planet of the Sol System, coordinating navigation to continue deceleration until we've reached full stop behind the moon of the third planet."
"Earth." K'Gard muttered to himself.
"The Agrégation and the Ultimatum are enroute, the warships…"
"Peace keeping vessels!" K'Gard interrupted with the correction.
"Of course, sir." The helmsman corrected. "The peace keeping vessels will be arriving shortly. Shall we send stealth probes down for data pull?"
"Only focus on the indigenous military and Cybertronian presence." K'Gard instructed. "Beyond that, none of it matters."
"Sir, if we're making first contact with the intent of membership consideration…"
"We're not." K'Gard interrupted once again, turned and strode to the helmsman's station, towering over him. "This Earth, it, well, it's nothing to us. It can offer nothing for us, at least as it is now. But as a source of energon, potentially enhanced energon, and a cautionary tale regarding the dangers of Cybertronians, it is of tremendous value."
"Captain, what is our objective here?" The helmsman asked hesitantly.
"We're to hold here, allow the Cybertronians to fight it out, Guardian Prime will undoubtedly squash all resistance and activate the Ferrotaxis. Once it's progressed to a satisfactory point, we'll swoop in and eradicate all Cybertronians on and near the planet. Then we'll claim this lifeless, energy-rich world in the name of the Galactic Council."
"Captain…is that legal?" The terrified helmsman asked.
"Who's to stop us." K'Gard chuckled. "And should there be any issue, I'm merely a captain that overstepped his authority as temporary acting Commander."
"I…I see, Captain."
000000
Megatron
"Alright, I'm ready." Megatron stated to Soundwave in his missile truck mode. "Send the hail."
"As you command, Mighty Megatron." Soundwave replied as a series of buttons and lit up and a speaker and receiver flipped out from the side of the truck to face Megatron. "Hailing."
Several moments passed before a young-sounding voice came through in English. "Identify yourself."
"Speak to me in Cybertronian." Megatron grumbled in his native tongue. "Tell Orion Pax that Megatron wishes to have a word with him."
"Me…Megatron?" The voice came back.
"Get Orion Pax, now!" Megatron ordered calmly but firmly.
Several moments passed before a deeper voice came through the speaker. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Megatron?"
"I'll try to keep this brief, Orion Pax, I know that you have a tremendous amount on your plate right now." Megatron grinned. "I'm assuming you're planning on how to reclaim the entrance to Jhiaxus's island from Prime's loyal imbeciles."
"You'll forgive me if I refrain from letting you in on what we have in the works." Pax replied with annoyance clearly in his voice but seemed to become more interested by something. "I know these things can be masked, but either you're on this planet or trying to make me think you are."
"And here I thought you were too young to be suspicious." Megatron chuckled. "I guess me confirming that I'm on this world will not be believed."
"Actually, I do believe you're here." Orion replied. "I'm just hoping this call isn't an attempt to intimidate me with that development."
"Of course not." Megatron answered. "We're enemies Orion Pax, and there are many things I do not like about you, that I do not respect about you, but your bravery is beyond doubt. I know me being here will not cause you alarm. In fact, revealing my presence on this planet removed a significant strategic advantage of mine. But I sense an opportunity here for both of us and am willing to reveal my galactic whereabouts to you in hopes that we can make the most of a mutually advantageous situation."
"And what is this mutually advantageous situation is that?" Pax asked, his voice making it clear that he had an idea of what Megatron had in mind.
"We share a common enemy, of course." Megatron answered.
"I see." Pax replied. "I think I've heard this ploy before. Are you planning on repurposing your leftover Grand Convocation invitations?"
"You'd be a fool not to suspect treachery from me, Pax." Megatron replied calmly. "But you would also be a fool not to at least consider my suggestion of a temporary alliance. My view of Trypticon as unique and invincible has softened quite a bit since the Grand Convocation. Now, against Guardian Prime, who wields his own Titan, I have no such confidence of victory."
"Prior to the Grand Convocation, we had no knowledge of Trypticon, so now, like then, it appears as though we're on similar footing facing a staggering common enemy." Pax replied.
"Ah, so you fear we have a new secret weapon that has made me consider Prime and his force a non or insignificant threat?" Megatron offered. "I assure you, that's not the case. I have every intention of eradicating Guardian Prime before eliminating you and will honor any agreement we make in a mutual effort to eliminate him."
There was a pause before Pax responded. "Assuming I choose to believe that what are your intentions with the Ferrotaxis?"
Megatron smiled. "I'll be honest, I want it. I want it badly. My mind is dancing on what could be done with such a device. But I know that you're wildly opposed to its existence, and most definitely to its usage, and I know that this is the basis for your conflict with Guardian Prime. So, in the spirit of compromise, if we make an alliance, I will vow to destroy it should I come across it before you."
"We've been to the site, what makes you certain we aren't in a position to destroy it any time we want?" Pax asked.
"If you were confident that you could destroy the Ferrotaxis, it'd have been destroyed by now. You were at the site for a very short period." Megatron replied with a grin Pax couldn't see but knew was likely there. "And my understanding is that it was a very large sunken island. It would be a miracle if you knew where the Ferrotaxis was precisely located. I'm sure you may have taken measures to sabotage what you could, but Jhiaxus wouldn't make it easy to find and certainly wouldn't make it easy to destroy. You could detonate whatever you have down there, and it'd be pure luck if you managed to damage the Ferrotaxis to any degree."
"Maybe, or maybe we have some idea of what we're doing." Pax replied. "Either way, you're making a promise that either I don't need, or that I can't trust."
"You don't have a choice, Pax." Megatron said in a low, serious tone. "You can't beat Guardian Prime without me. He's too powerful, his army is supplemented by a Titan as well as a warship that can scorch your forces and the continent they're standing on. And he has every Cybertronian that's not an Autobot or a Decepticon supporting him, if for no other reason than because he's Guardian Fucking Prime." Megatron allowed that to sink in for a moment before pushing on. "I used to respect your unalterable idealism, but you're an adult now. You're a leader now. You have to know that your ideals must be compromised for you to succeed in any way. If you want to save this and countless other organic worlds from your hero, then you must make an alliance with your villain."
There was a long pause, long enough so that Megatron became confident the young Autobot Commander would take him up on his offer. "Megatron?"
"Yes, Orion Pax?"
"There is no way that you won't betray me." Orion replied. "You're so focused on pointing out how I need you, and you may have made some valid points, but I don't see how you need me. I will never be ruthless enough to order the few troops at my disposal to strike targets with the intent of an unignorable civilian body count, which is exactly what you'd require from us. You know this, which makes me realize that you would betray us. Perhaps not right away, but you would select a time that benefits you, and you would betray us and do whatever you could to secure the Ferrotaxis."
A disappointed look came over Megatron's face, but he remained calm. "Fine Orion Pax, undertake this task on your own. I'll patiently watch it unfold and mop up what's left of whoever isn't killed."
"I'd expect nothing less of you, Megatron." Orion replied. "Orion Pax out."
