Trials, Tribulations, and Transformations
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XXXIII - Day of Independence
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Denver, CO - Autobot Base Omega Two - July 4th, 2011
Sunstreaker looked quizzically at his charge, Katie with utmost curiosity. "So your country has this…thing, this day of remembrance called Independence Day?"
Kaitlyn Steinfeld beamed. She always liked talking about the things she knows. "Yup, it's kind of like America's birthday."
Sideswipe cocked an eyebrow. "Do you…bake a cake or something?"
Katie choked with laughter. "No Swipes, you just celebrate and remember the day that a group of men got together and decided that America would be a free nation, a nation independent from the rule of a tyrant."
The Twins looked marveled.
"Whoa," Sideswipe said. "And so there was a war and they won?"
Katie nodded. "And America has been a free and prosperous nation ever since."
"Is there more?" Sideswipe asked.
"Ha ha! You better believe it there is!" Jazz chimed as he looked through a datapad. "These guys, these Founding Fathers essentially committed treason when they signed this paper declaring their independence. And this one, Ben Frank or somethin', he said that it would be better if they…hang together than later on separately." The Spec Ops Commander looked down at his own charge, Jonathan Fowler. "What does that mean, lil britches? Hang together?"
Jon rubbed his arm awkwardly. "It's a form of execution, getting put to death by hanging by the neck until you are dead. It's a nasty slow way to go."
Jazz looked grave. "Sheesh. All that cuz they want to be free?"
"More than free Jazz," Jon said confidently. "The Fathers wanted a nation of their own where they could live the way they want, do whatever job they want, without some king telling them what they can't and cannot do."
Jazz craned his head with a frown. "Free huh? But didn't they keep slaves."
"Some of them did yeah," Jon said, prepared for this question. "But most of them wanted to abolish slavery."
"Why didn't they?"
"I think because it would've been a losing battle at that time." Jon cleared his throat. "Most of the south wanted to keep their slaves and if the Founding Fathers tried to abolish it then, most of the people would've rebelled, joined with the British, who were a big problem at the time, and there would probably be no America and no Emanicipation Proclamation today."
Jazz raised his head and paused in thought. "Makes sense. But it took almost a hundred years to do it. And a hundred more to give them civil rights."
"Big change takes time, Jazz man."
Jazz chuckled. "That's for sure. But by Cybertronian standards, you 'Mericans did alright."
Abashed, Jon rubbed the back of his head. "Haha, thanks."
Katie looked around the Rec Room of the base. "Has anyone seen Sierra?"
"Oh yeah," Sunstreaker said. "I think she's talking with Vince."
Sideswipe frowned. "What?"
"What?"
"What did you say, Sunny?" Sideswipe's voice sounded menacing.
Sunstreaker knew what that meant. "Now hold on Swipes, I know Sierra's your charge and all, but that doesn't mean you run her life. Besides, you've met Vince, known him for some time now. You must know he'd never be inappropriate with her."
Sideswipe paused and after a beat, looked embarrassed. "Ah, I guess it's been a long time since I've been in big brother mode. Ever since we grew up from being kids."
Jazz smirked. "The way I hear it, you haven't seen Glyph as a sister since you hit puberty."
"Uh…what's that supposed to mean?" Sideswipe asked, trying to hide the fluster in his voice.
Jazz chuckled. "Hmm?" he said, feigning ignorance.
"You heard me!" Sideswipe snapped.
"Aw c'mon Swipes, it ain't no secret ya got it bad for lil Glyphy."
Sideswipe harrumphed but said no more.
"Now…" Jazz said, switching his attention back to his charge. "Jon, I'd like to hear more about these Founding Fathers."
Jonathan smiled happily. He always loved going into 'history teacher' mode.
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Nemesis Warship
Soundwave's spindly finger twitched on the medical slab.
Knockout removed the cortical psychic patch from Megatron's skull and he was roused from induced stasis.
He lumbered off the medical slab with the help of Breakdown's strength.
"There you go, master," Breakdown said as Megatron leaned on him.
Megatron pushed him away.
He never liked accepting help from anyone and Breakdown would be offended if he didn't always know that.
"Good news my liege!" Knockout said, trying to sound cheerful. "Soundwave has stirred. A little more than a twitch of a finger," he said, brandishing his own finger as if to illustrate a point.
Megatron was not the least bit satisfied. "But he still remains in a coma."
Knockout gulped. "Well technically…"
"I will only consider your efforts a success when my Communications Officer is no longer horizontal and is fit for duty once more."
With that, the Supreme Leader of the Decepticons walked out of the lab without another word.
Dispirited, Knockout slumped into his lab seat.
He folded his hands and bowed his head.
Breakdown knelt beside him.
"You alright, buddy?"
Knockout didn't answer.
"It's nothing personal you know. Megatron has always been…well…tough. And saying thank you has never been his thing."
Knockout grumbled. "I haven't noticed."
The automatic doors opened.
Knockout gasped, fearing it was Megatron who had come back after hearing the good doctor's last words, which were less than polite.
"That wasn't very polite, doctor."
It was a woman's voice.
It was Airachnid.
A nasty smile on her face, Airachnid entered the medical lab.
Knockout shuddered. She's so quiet. "Something I can help you with?"
Airachnid shrugged her shoulders, and she tried not to wince, still recovering from her injuries. "Can't I drop by and say hello to my favorite pair of misfits?"
Breakdown narrowed his one good optic.
Knockout scoffed. "When scraplets fly out of my assets."
Airachnid chuckled darkly. "I need a refill."
"Of what? Cyberpaint? You could use a new finish."
Airachnid frowned. "Excuse me?" She growled dangerously.
Breakdown thumped Knockout upside the head with a forefinger.
"Ow!"
"Knockout, you gotta death wish?!"
Before Knockout could recover and retaliate, he found himself face to face with a furious Airachnid.
Knockout gasped, not knowing how she managed to get so close so quickly and quietly.
Airachnid reached up and grabbed Knockout by the shoulders. She was barely standing above his waist but she was arguably stronger than him.
She pushed him hard and pinned him to a slab table.
Right before she bound him to it with her webs.
Knockout's face fell with sudden terror.
Breakdown was equally startled. "Uh…commander?"
"Quiet, Breakdown!" Airachnid snapped as she transformed into her spider form.
Her spindly spider legs gouged into the cybersteel floor as she approached the bound Knockout.
"No! No!" Knockout sputtered, struggling against the webs. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
One of Airachnid's legs rose above Knockout's head and it slammed right into the slab behind him. She twisted it, crunching grinding metal deafened the room, and she wrenched it free, shrapnel stuck to the clawed foot at the end.
"You will never speak to me in that manner again, understand?" Airachnid said a low, lethal voice.
Knockout nodded curtly. "Y-yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes c-commander."
Airachnid still didn't smile. "You may not like me. You may even hate me. But as long I'm here, as long as I hold the rank that I do, you will respect that! Starscream got the position he did through cunning and that is all. I've earned the rank of commander through my strength and skill as a warrior, my ability to command respect, as well as my cunning. That is why I am here and Starscream is not."
Breakdown, being the thoughtless lummox that he is, put his two cents in. "And because he deserted us after he helped the Autobots find the Immobilizer."
Airachnid turned to glare at the Stunticon.
Breakdown shrank back.
Airachnid turned back to the captive doctor. "I need a refill for my pain medication. Now."
Knockout nodded and pointed a finger, a hand still free under the webbing. "Top drawer, the far end."
Airachnid nodded with entitled satisfaction.
With that, she reverted back to her bipedal form, approached the set of medical drawers, collected what she came for and motioned to leave the room.
Not before taking a momentary glance at a comatose Soundwave.
It's so strange seeing him like this, someone known to being so silent and still. This is a new silent and still.
And then she exited through the automatic doors and she was gone.
Breakdown proceeded to freeing his friend from his bindings.
"She's been different after almost getting her head shot off," Breakdown said.
"Different how?" Knockout said, looking almost bored as he examined his finish.
"Well…she's…" Breakdown paused, trying to find the words. "Distant. Distracted. Downtrodden." He said the last word while illustrating the air quote gesture with his index and middle digits.
Knockout cocked an eyebrow. "Downtrodden?"
Breakdown shrugged. "I heard Megatron use that word a couple times. I just now got what it meant."
Knockout groaned in annoyance. "Right."
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Airachnid walked down the hall, ignoring any and all of the Vehicon troops who stopped to salute her.
Some even practically groveled before her.
Airachnid scoffed in disgust.
Sycophants. All of them.
There was not a one of these soldiers who didn't join the Decepticon cause for some selfish gain or some fleeting hope for the promise of power or simply a better life than what they have now.
Most of them joined the Decepticon cause out of fear or greed, most of all because it was the easy road, the most seductive.
Their loyalty was about as good as long as there was something in it for them.
It would've sickened Airachnid if she wasn't guilty of it herself.
But she didn't join the Decepticon cause for power, not for the promise of a better tomorrow, not even for the thrill of the hunt, which was a juicy bonus in her opinion.
It was for revenge.
Revenge on the Primes and all who stood with them.
Revenge for their compliance, for their compromise, for their corruption.
Revenge for how they failed Cybertron and allowed her home to corrode and fall apart beyond repair.
For the Rust Plague and all it took from her.
Of course she'd never tell anyone this.
She didn't want anyone to think that she ever had any intentions that were noble.
Let them think that all this was so she could satiate her taste for blood.
For the thrill of the hunt.
That she is no more than a bloodthirsty sadist and psychopath.
That much is true.
Bots would keep their distance that way.
I work better alone. One thing I learned from this war: look out for yourself. Anything else is weakness.
Her thoughts then drifted to that day where she had experienced her brush with death.
It infuriated her.
That sniper could've killed me. He missed me on purpose. Did he spare me out of pity?
Airachnid clenched her fists.
If there was one thing she hated more than appearing weak, it was an enemy who took pity on her.
I will find that wretched sniper and pay him back in kind if it's the last thing I do. And he will get no pity from me.
Then something else crossed her mind.
The day she lost everything.
When the Rust Plague destroyed her home and family.
And Zeta Prime didn't lift a finger to help.
Airachnid forced away the memory.
The past is dead. To relive it is useless.
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Explosion after explosion of colors in the night sky of Denver.
Orchids of colors, flowering one after another.
Color schemes of the American flag.
Even entire methodical designs of fireworks forming several images in the night sky.
The Flag.
The Minuteman.
The Statue of Liberty.
And other patriotic images.
The Autobots, along with their human friends either stood or sat on top of the landing platform of their mountain base, allowing them a million in a lifetime view of the fireworks of the year's Independence Day.
They all watched in awe.
"Man, that is something else," Jazz said.
"You said it," Blaster agreed. "Now that is outta sight."
"So is that supposed to mean something?" Sideswipe asked, pointing at the wondrous light show.
"It's to commemorate what this country stands for," Jon said. "You know how our national anthem was made?"
The Autobots listened intently.
Even Wheeljack showed some interest.
"It was during the War of 1812. There was this island fort called McHenry. It was being bombarded by British naval ships. And they wouldn't stop until they took down the American flag they had been flying. The Brits kept firing but no matter how much cannon fire they delivered, the Americans would not stop flying that flag. They've decided that it was better to die on their feet as free men than live their lives on their knees as slaves."
Optimus Prime smiled.
The Autobots' reaction to the story ranged from wonder to awe to puzzlement on how similar the foundation of the U.S. was to the Autobot cause.
The fight for freedom and the fight to keep it.
Ratchet turned his head away, arms crossed.
He would not admit it but he was deeply impressed on how formidable humans were in the face of adversity.
At the same time, he was so embittered by the incredible nuisance of them that he would keep his new found faith in and respect for them to himself.
I can see why Optimus was so insistent on having our base in the United States of all places.
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Megatron sat in his seat, hands folded, hunched over as he brooded, plans forming in his mind.
And other things.
Such as the future of the Decepticons.
And his part in it.
As well as the clear signs that the Autobots' numbers have increased.
He knew not who, but the Autobots' activity and resources increased.
More Energon raids, more ground covered, greater coordination of operations, whether military or otherwise.
Megatron bared his teeth.
He gripped the armrests of his chair with such force he nearly crushed them.
He would never say it but he could see all control slipping out from under him.
Ever so little.
Ravage has abandoned the Decepticon cause.
Soundwave, my Communications Officer, is in a coma.
Starscream, my Second-in-Command, has fled and his whereabouts unknown. And now Airachnid has his office. Airachnid!
Megatron stood and took his private lift to the topmost landing platform of the Nemesis.
He stood on the edge and stared at the thousands of glowing pinpricks in the night sky.
And then his optics rested on an almost imperceptible pattern in distant space.
The alignment of the 47 spheres is drawing near. And we are not even close to being prepared for a fight with the Autobots. How…how…how have we come to this?
NEXT CHAPTER: One Shall Rise