Chapter Two: Robots in the Skies

"Hello, and welcome to Fryman's. May I take your order?" The automated voice came from the mouth of a quite creepy-looking mascot, though its movements were thankfully limited. Its lifeless eyes stared in two different directions as it waited for the customers to order.

The black car in the drive-thru studied the menu–not the driver, the car himself. "Uh, yeah, could we get a number five large, with a large cola, and large–you know what, just make everything large. Steven, you want a drink?"

"No thanks, just the bits for me!" said the passenger.

"Yeah, and the bits."

"'The bits' is not on our menu," the animatronic speaker informed them.

"I know it's not–look, we just want some of those little fry-bits that are left over when you cook 'em," said Sideswipe. "Could we have some of those? Please?"

After a brief silence, the mascot replied with "Number five, large everything. Will there be anything else?"

"The bits!" both Steven and Sideswipe shouted in unison. "See, this is why I hate dealing with machines," the machine added under his breath.

But it looked like orders such as these were still beyond such a robot's basic algorithms. "'The bits' is not on our menu," it repeated.

Thankfully, one of the restaurateurs came to their rescue. The voice of a boy a bit younger than Steven usurped the mascot's command, asking "So, Steven, the usual?"

"The bits!" both chanted again.

"We'll get that ready for you. Ten-ninety-five at the window, please."

"You got it! Thanks, Peedee!" The issue of the bits solved, Sideswipe drove around to wait for their food to be ready.

"That living fry thing really creeps me out," he said. "I know it's supposed to be cute and all, but it looks like it's gonna come to life and try to murder us in our sleep. The way things go for us sometimes, I wouldn't be surprised if it did at some point."

While Steven had nothing against Frybo, he could see Sideswipe's point. "Yeah, it does look kinda…malicious," he admitted. "I'm just glad they retired the old suit version of him. Now that thing was a monster!" He and Sideswipe shared a laugh at these memories.

At the window, Peedee's father handed Steven their order, his sons working diligently behind him in the kitchen. Well, one of them was, the other more distracted by trying to get a picture of Sideswipe. "Here you go: a number five for Sideswipe, and an order of the bits for Steven!"

"Sweet! Thanks, Mr. Fryman!" said Steven, taking the bag and handing him the money. "How's business been faring lately?"

"Oh, we're hanging in there," he replied. "Small family business and all that. I probably could get some more robots to do the cooking, but I prefer the human touch. Er, no offense to your friend."

"Trust me, none taken," said Sideswipe. "I've seen the alternative back there, and it's not pretty."

The owner chuckled. "Yeah, we've had a few comments about that thing. A lot of people say it looks pretty malicious, but it's been our mascot since day one. Anyway, enjoy your day!"

"You too! Keep on hangin' in there!" Steven said, as the two of them drove away. It was late afternoon in Beach City, not quite evening yet, but the sun was drifting low in the sky. The town was quiet, but unknown to the pair, things were about to get much louder.

Steven had already opened up the bag, ready to chow down on the fry bits. "Easy there, cowboy, at least wait 'til we get home!" Sideswipe said. "Either that, or pass me some fries!"

He was about to do so, only to realize the obvious problem. "Uh…how exactly are you supposed to eat in car mode?" Steven asked.

"...You know, I've never actually thought about that. Yeah, where does my mouth go? Maybe in the glove compartment?" Steven checked, but found nothing out of the ordinary. "Huh. Maybe you'd have to look under the hood to–"

The pavement behind him was suddenly blasted apart as an explosion erupted from the road. Startled, Sideswipe began driving even faster. "What was that?" asked a similarly-startled Steven.

"Beats me! Maybe a gas vein burst or something?" Just then, there was another explosion to the side, taking out a streetlight by the sidewalk. "Not a gas vein! Not a gas vein!" He swerved down a side road, trying to shake off whatever it was that was causing the explosions.

Sideswipe's radio crackled to life. "Steven! Sideswipe!" said Elita. "Get back to base, now! It's locked on to your position!"

"What is!?" shouted Sideswipe.

Another explosion rocked the road just in front of them. Sideswipe did a quick u-turn, racing towards the Ark. Steven glimpsed the blast, and in the split second before it occurred, something seemed to have fallen from the sky.

"We aren't sure," came the voice of Ultra Magnus, "but it seems that whatever it is, it's targeting us specifically. Once you are inside, you should be safe."

"Not that I don't trust you, Magnus, but I don't really like your use of 'should,'" Sideswipe said. As more of the strange explosions erupted around them, Steven caught more glances of their origin. Something streaked down from above, just barely slow enough for the naked eye to catch, before blowing its target to pieces.

Sideswipe made his way to the beach in no time at all; unfortunately, their invisible assailant had followed him, as the sand was exploding around them. As he rounded the path towards the Ark, Elita peered out of the garage, hurrying him towards it. "Quickly! It can't hit us in here!"

Both Steven and Sideswipe hoped she was right as the latter pulled into the building. Thankfully, the explosions stopped once they reached shelter. Sideswipe transformed, exhausted from the chase, setting Steven down beside him.

"Are you two alright?" asked Elita, checking them for wounds.

"I think we're okay," Steven replied. "I didn't feel any hit us. What was shooting at us, anyway? It almost looked like it was coming from the sky, but I didn't see anything above us…"

Sideswipe stood back up. "Okay, so we're being shot at by some unseen force. But on the upside: the fries survived." Elita shot him an annoyed look as he held up the bag, and led them further into the ship. "What? What?"

The three of them arrived at the main control console, where Ultra Magnus was hard at work. "Did you get all that?" Elita asked.

"Indeed." He typed away, seemingly narrowing in on their assailant. "We had picked up some odd readings a while back, which preceded these strange attacks. Given Steven's observations, as well as our safety indoors, that leaves only one place to look: up."

The screen zoomed higher and higher up in the sky, narrowing in on something hovering above the city. Far, far above. "It seems to be in a fixed orbit in the planet's upper atmosphere," Elita observed. "Magnus, you don't think…"

"No, it's more likely a Predacon." A further zoom revealed the object in full: a satellite, red and orange in color, with a large cannon extending towards the ground where a receiver would be. "Bingo. There's our guy."

"Hang on, I can't see!" Sideswipe lifted Steven up to the screen. "That's a Predacon? I thought they all looked like animals and monsters and stuff?"

"For the most part, they do," Magnus explained. "But every so often, you find one that's learned to mimic human machinery, such as our orbital friend here. At least we know it needs visuals to fire…"

"That may be so," said Elita, "but we can't risk it getting impatient. If it gets bored, it might try firing on the Ark, or worse, anything that moves. We can't go outside without risk of being fired at, but we can't leave it alone without risk of it firing at humans…"

"I've got it!" said Sideswipe with a snap. "Me and Magnus can go out there and get its attention, while you fly up there and shoot it down! Piece of cake, right?"

Elita shot him another look, disappointed. "Do you not know how helicopters work? Even if I could avoid getting shot at long enough, the atmosphere would be too thin. My rotors would barely work."

"Not to mention, I can't say I'm keen on the idea of getting shot at on purpose," said Ultra Magnus.

"Yeah, and don't we need a way to collect its spark when we beat it?" asked Steven.

Sideswipe was quiet for a moment. "Alright, so there goes that plan. Anyone else got a better one?"

An idea came to Ultra Magnus. "I think…there may be a way to safely remove its spark without having to leave the safety of the ship. All we would have to do is deploy a diagnostic drone from here. With any luck, the Predacon won't react to its presence, as it lacks a spark. The only question is, do we have any left?"

He approached a cabinet on the far side of the room, opening the door with a button. The shutters rose to reveal numerous shelves with absolutely nothing on them. He looked deeper in, as though making sure he didn't miss one hidden in the back. "So, that's a no, then?" asked Sideswipe.

"How is it possible that we're completely out of diagnostic drones?" Elita asked incredulously. "It's been centuries since we've used one!"

"Maybe that's why it's been so long," Magnus said. "Teletraan, are there any spare drones hidden anywhere?"

"Negative," answered the computer. "A single drone remains, but it is not here. As per the order of Optimus Prime, any remaining diagnostic drones were placed in the custody of Gregory Universe."

"Wait, so we've got one drone left, and Greg's the one who has it?" said Sideswipe, also incredulous. "Welp, guess we'll never see that thing again."

Steven seemed to take offense to this. "Why's that?" he asked accusingly. "My dad wouldn't just hock some important Autobot tech!"

"We're not saying he would, Steven," said Elita, "but Greg is…a bit of a packrat. Even if he hasn't lost it by now, it would likely be hard to find amongst all of his other…toys."

"Greg is an excellent person," Ultra Magnus chimed in. "He just isn't the person I would trust in a situation like this."

"C'mon, guys, don't write him off like that! Dad has the drone you need, I just know it! And to prove it, I'll go and get it right now!" Steven headed for the door. "I'll be back in just a few minutes, tops!"

None of the 'bots were exactly keen on letting him go outside, Elita especially. She pulled him back in. "Steven, wait! It's not safe with that thing looming over us!"

Ultra Magnus checked on it via the screen. "Perhaps that's not entirely the case," he said. "Predacons without their other senses often rely on detecting our sparks to find us. With his spark masked by his organic body, Steven should be safe."

"I'm not risking his life over a 'should,'" Elita made clear.

Sideswipe approached the door, peering towards the sky. "Alright then, let's try an experiment. First, a Cybertronian." He cautiously stepped out onto the sand, anticipating one of the satellite's orbital shots to rain down from above. Sure enough, one raced towards him, the Autobot making it back inside just in time. "...Okay, now you try."

Much to Elita's chagrin, Steven stepped outside. All three robots held their metaphorical breath, ready to scoop him up if anything were to happen. But nothing came. "The Predacon has not moved," reported Magnus. "As I predicted, its senses are based around sparks."

"Great!" said Steven. "Then there's no time to waste; I'll be back before you know it!" He ran off towards town. "Don't go anywhere!"

"Somehow, I have a feeling we'll still be here…" observed Sideswipe.

The lad's destination was not far from the temple, also overlooking the beach. A small auto shop just down the road, its unlit neon sign reading 'Universal Repair.' The sound of whirring machinery came from within, as well as what sounded like a person's voice.

Steven walked past a white van, adorned on the side with the name 'Mr. Universe.' Inside the mechanic's, there was another white van, with the giant head of Beach City's mayor sitting on top. Someone's legs poked out from underneath the vehicle as they worked on it. "Hey Dad! Uh…is this a bad time?"

The reason for his question was the vehicle's constant, tinny repetition of 'Ma-yor De-wey! Ma-yor De-wey!' "Juuust one moment, Schtu-ball…" With the sound of a turning screw, the recorded voice slowed to a halt. 'Maaaaa-yooooor Deeewoorrrrrr…' His work done, rolled himself out from under it. "Now, what can I help you with?"

"How's work going?" Steven asked, sitting down on a nearby bench. "I see you're fixing up the Deweymobile. I imagine Mayor Dewey pays pretty well!"

Greg wiped his brow as he put away his tools. "He does when I do a good job," he said. "At least, when he thinks I did a good job. But I'm not hurtin' for cash, if that's what you were wondering. Anyway, how are things going with the Autobots? I heard some explosions earlier, I hope there's not too much trouble."

Steven glanced skyward out the window. "That's…actually why I'm here. You wouldn't happen to still have that old drone Dad gave you a few years ago, would you?"

"Hmm…the diagnostic drone? I think so, but I'd have to look through my stockpile. Why? Do the 'bots need it for a mission?"

"Yeah, some kind of evil satellite creature," Steven said. "The drone's the only way to stop it. And apparently, you have the only one left."

"Oh. Wow, that's a lot of pressure on me, then," Greg said, surprised. He walked over to the door to peer outside, trying to spot the creature Steven mentioned. "And, you said it was the one causing those explosions?"

He nodded. "It was only shooting at the Autobots, so we should be safe. Magnus says it can only detect things with sparks, but Elita said it might start shooting at humans too if it gets bored."

"Sounds like all the more reason to find this drone." Greg joined up with his son, and the two of them made their way over to a shed beside the workshop. "So, I, uh, heard from Sideswipe that you summoned your axe. That's pretty cool."

"Huh? Yeah, it is," said Steven. "But, it's not really my axe." He was silent as Greg opened the shed door. "Hey, Dad? You knew Prime, right?"

"Well, yeah, we're both your dad, so we met."

"And what was he like?"

Greg seemed like he had prepared for this conversation, but still appeared unsure of what to say. "Oh, he was a great guy. All the other Autobots really respected him, and it wasn't hard to see why. Really respectful, mellow too. Why he chose me to help him, I don't know if I'll ever understand."

"I know why!" Steven said. "It's because you're the best dad ever! You're a great guy too, and respectful and mellow. And you're the best mechanic in the whole city!"

He chuckled. "Well, I guess I can't really argue with that. Still, it's hard to compare with a giant robot who's protected the world for thousands of years… Anyway, c'mon, let's get that drone."

The two of them stepped inside the shed, which was filled to the brim with all sorts of technological gadgets and gizmos. Most of it was of earthly origin, but a few were recognizable as modified or scavenged Transformer tech. Just about everything in there showed signs of being tinkered with, no doubt by the shed's owner.

"Now this is a walk down memory lane," Greg said, examining the scattered machinery. "I haven't seen some of this stuff in years! Ooh, hopefully this thing won't be too hard to find… Mind giving your old man a hand?"

"That's why I'm here!" Steven said. He and his father began sorting through the assorted clutter, finding numerous interesting devices, but none of them the drone. One of them, oddly enough, was a tiny figurine in Optimus' likeness, which he picked up. A little lever on its back made its arm move up and down, and pressing on its head made it say, in a tinny voice, 'Autobots, roll out!' which made Steven giggle. "Did Dad ever say anything about…well, me?"

"Of course he did," said Greg, rooting through some boxes. "You're his son, after all. He wanted someone to carry on his legacy, someone to do good for the people of Earth in a way he felt he couldn't. And like I said, for some reason I'll never understand, I'm the one he chose to help him with that." He put the box away after looking fondly at its contents.

"Huh, no pressure," Steven said with a laugh, one that Greg shared. "Um…Dad? You wouldn't have sold it or lost it or something, would you?"

"No, of course not!" insisted Greg. "Sideswipe said something, didn't he?" Steven nodded, hesitant to add that, technically, all the bots said something. "Yeah, I thought so. I know I keep a lot of my stuff around, and some might think that makes me a 'packrat'...and maybe it does. But a lot of this stuff has sentimental value–and it's not like what I sell doesn't, it's just that running an auto shop when there's machines that can probably do most of that stuff for a lot cheaper isn't exactly the highest-paying job. But Optimus gave me that drone for a reason. I wouldn't dare lose it, and definitely wouldn't sell it!"

Somehow, hearing it straight from the man himself reassured Steven that much more. "I know you wouldn't," he said. "So let's find it, save the day, and prove everyone wrong!"

"There we go!" said Greg. "Now, it's probably–Wait, prove them wrong about what?"

"Nothing."

After a bit more searching, Steven came across a shelf lined with various flying machines of about the same size. One was about the size of a human torso, slightly spherical in shape, with a glass screen on the front and two little arms. "Hey, I think I found it!" he said.

Greg came over to examine the find. "That's it alright!" He looked it over for a bit, before fiddling with some switches on its back. The drone whirred to life, hovering above the floor. "Aha! Still works, after all this time!"

"So, how are we gonna get it back to the Ark?" asked Steven.

"Simple…" Behind the drone had been a battered old remote, the kind that would have been used for controlling RC vehicles. Greg picked it up, and began directing the drone outside. "I may have made some alterations back when I first got it! We should probably leave the actual mission to the pros, though."

"Probably a good idea." Steven and Greg left the shed, led by the drone that the latter controlled. Showing off a bit, he had it open the door for them, giving a little bow when they stepped through. "Hey, you're pretty good with that thing!"

Greg chuckled. "Oh, I just made it do a few tricks. Nothing that impressive, really."

"Sure it is!" said Steven, as they continued down the beach. "I'll bet Sideswipe can't do that!" Once more, the pair shared a laugh.

They soon arrived back at the base, thankfully with no interference from the satellite. "Steven! Greg! Thank Primus you weren't vaporized!" said Elita. "We've been watching the satellite, and we think it's getting closer." Over on the screen, there seemed to be a bit more blue sky below it than there was before.

"We can't be sure what this means for Beach City," Magnus said, "but it definitely isn't anything good."

"Then it's a good thing Dad came through!" said Steven, presenting the diagnostic drone to the Autobots. Greg made it wave at them. "See? I told you not to doubt him!"

"Yeah, alright, there's step one," said Sideswipe, "now we just need to get this thing airborne. Magnus?"

Ultra Magnus took hold of the drone, loading it into its slot beside the terminal. "Now, to launch it into orbit. Teletraan, begin the process."

"Affirmative," said the computer. The screen changed to display the view from the drone loaded into its tube. "Preparing to launch in five…four…three…" A hatch atop the Ark opened up, showing the blue sky. "...two…one. Launching drone."

With a sound like both a bang and a hiss, the drone was thrown skyward, rocketing into the upper atmosphere. "Woah…" Steven was transfixed by the monitor as the diagnostic drone flew up at near-impossible speeds. "It's going so fast!"

"Almost there…" said Elita. The blue sky slowly began to shift to the star-filled black of outer space. Once the air had thinned to the proper lightness, it slowed down, eventually coming to a stop at the very edge of the atmosphere. Its arms reappeared, ready to begin its mission.

"Good. I was worried for a moment that something would go wrong," said Ultra Magnus. "Teletraan, activate manual controls for the drone." A control scheme emerged from the computer…but none of the levers caused any movement. "Eh? What's going on?"

"Cannot connect to drone," reported Teletraan. "Modified for unrecognizable control scheme."

Everyone's eyes then turned to Greg, who still held his remote control. Except for Steven, their gazes were varying degrees of accusatory. "...Okay, so I may have tinkered with it a bit. I didn't think it would render it inoperable!"

"Maybe it isn't," said Steven, but the Autobots were too upset to listen.

"So, this plan is a bust," Magnus said. "If anyone else has a way to destroy or disable this Predacon, I'm listening."

"Hmm… What if we just shot up in the air a lot?" suggested Sideswipe. "With enough shots, we're bound to hit it eventually if we keep at it for long enough!"

"Uh, hey guys–"

"I wish I didn't have to explain everything wrong with that idea," Elita said. "The sciences of gravity, rotational force, and energy dissolution aside, how do you expect to get a shot without it firing back?"

"Maybe we could–"

"Oh, this from the bot too scared to fly after it herself?" Sideswipe retorted. "Maybe we should just hole up in here for the rest of our lives, and let Steven take care of all our missions for us!"

"Why don't we–"

"Fighting isn't going to solve anything," said Magnus. "Besides, Steven isn't ready to–"

"Teletraan!" Steven shouted suddenly. "Could we connect Greg's controller into your main computer thing? So he can pilot the drone from here?"

After a second of determining, another panel opened up below the terminal, out of which slid a small cord. "Affirmative," Teletraan said. "Secondary control system recognized. Preparing to connect to diagnostic drone."

The Autobots were quiet for a moment as Steven brought Greg over to the panel. Greg plugged the controller in, and tested it by pushing one of the sticks. The view shifted as the drone rotated slightly. He moved it a bit more; "I don't believe it," said Elita. "It's actually working!"

"I'm as shocked as you are!" said Greg. "Uh, Magnus, could I get a boost? I can't see the screen too well from down here. Don't wanna get a nosebleed, you know how it is."

Ultra Magnus didn't, but he complied, lifting Greg up in front of the monitor. Luckily, the cord was lengthy. "Are you sure you can manage?" he asked. "Not that I don't trust you, but this is not a simple operation. It will take skill, and finesse, and above all, dexterity. All of which I'm sure you have, of course."

"Go on, Dad!" Steven cheered. "You got this!"

"He's right–I got this!" Greg said, steeling himself as he gripped the controller. "Also, none of your hands are small enough to use this."

It only took a small moment of searching to find the satellite: hovering far above Beach City, its cannon still facing down. Luckily, it hadn't noticed the drone, something they all hoped would stay that way. Carefully, cautiously, Greg eased it forwards.

All five of them watched anxiously as the tiny drone drifted through space, knowing that the living satellite could see it at any moment, and would likely blow their only means of stopping it out of the sky. "Now, Greg, you'll want to slow it down a bit here," Magnus instructed.

Greg pulled back on the throttle, slowing the drone to a stop. "Okay, now what? I'm not exactly a…person who, eh, works on Transformers. What exactly am I doing again?"

"Manual spark removal," said Ultra Magnus. "Usually a very complex procedure, but this Predacon's simplistic build will hopefully extend to its spark chamber as well. Don't worry–I will walk you through the process."

"Uh, hey, Mags? Not to be a downer, but since when are you an expert on spark surgery?" asked Sideswipe.

"I have viewed numerous holovids on the subject," he replied. "Namely, all three seasons of Beating Sparks of Iacon. But I am confident I am knowledgeable enough to see this matter through."

"You'll forgive me if that doesn't exactly instill me with confidence…" Elita admitted.

Magnus pointed at the screen, directing Greg towards the satellite's middle, where a small panel could be seen. "First, you must remove that panel. Use the diagnostic drone's manipulator arms to undo the four latches, but be careful not to–"

As Greg had gone about following Magnus' instructions, the drone's arm accidentally nudged the inner section of the panel, which triggered a sudden shudder in the Predacon. Pieces of it began to shift and retract, seeming to partially transform. "Ooh, that's probably not good," he said. "What's happening, what's happening!?"

"N-no need to worry, you've just triggered its defensive measures," Elita said, sounding a bit worried herself. "Magnus, this is no reason to be worried, right? Right?"

Ultra Magnus stared at the screen like a deer in the headlights for a moment before regaining his composure. "No, no it isn't. This just means that our timetables have, ah, accelerated."

He shifted the screen's view to show the satellite from below. In addition to its solar cells folding against its sides, its cannon had been replaced with a spiked nosecone. Sideswipe was undeterred by this image; "So, it's just goin' into sleep mode or something?"

"Nnnnnot exactly," said Elita. "Presumably, it is intending to drop itself from orbit. A process that, assuming its size and speed, will result in the destruction of a large chunk of Beach City, if not its entirety."

A brief silence. "I believe in you, Dad!" shouted Steven.

"Right," Greg said, firmly gripping the controller. "I can't give up now! Come on, Magnus, show me what to do!"

Alternating between looking intently at the screen and looking worriedly at the sky, Magnus attempted to resume talking Greg through the procedure. "Now, same as before, but be very careful to not touch anything but the clamps! The Predacon's already on the defensive, there's no telling what it could do next…"

Moving agonizingly slowly, Greg moved the drone's claws to undo the four clamps at the panel's corners. Steven held his breath, Ultra Magnus stood stock still, and Elita gripped the railing so tightly it started to bend. Meanwhile, Sideswipe had curled up in the corner with his hands over his ears, though he still snuck the occasional peek.

After a few more agonizing moments, the final clamp was undone. Everyone present let out a palpable sigh of relief as the panel slid open, revealing the shimmering shape of the machine's spark. In that moment, it was the most beautiful thing any of them had seen. "I-I did it! I actually did it!" said Greg, unable to believe it.

"Just a moment, we aren't finished yet," Ultra Magnus said. "There's still the matter of removing it. See those two clasps on the sides? You'll have to retract those if you want to–why are you moving up?"

"Huh? I'm not doing…anything…" said Greg, as it dawned on him what that meant. If the drone wasn't moving up, it could only mean the satellite was moving down. "Uh, Guys? I think it's starting to drop!"

All the Autobots rushed over to the screen: Elita changed the view to show that it was, indeed, falling out of the sky. "We have to do something!" she said. "There's no chance of shooting it down once it reaches terminal velocity–we need to evacuate as many people as we can!"

Sideswipe was already on his way to the door when Magnus stopped them. "Wait!" he said. "Greg…can do this. I have faith in him."

"You do?" asked Sideswipe.

"You do?" asked Greg.

"I do," said Magnus. "Quickly, grab onto it before it gets too far!" Greg did so, latching onto the satellite's side with the drone's claws. The small drone was then pulled along for the ride as the satellite-turned-missile picked up speed, entering the atmosphere.

The tension returned as Greg stared at the screen, sweating profusely. "Okay, now what!?" he asked nervously.

"You'll need to retract the clasps," said Ultra Magnus, clearly having difficulty staying composed. A simple press into the pressure zones here and here should do." He pointed out the positions on screen.

And so, with one claw firmly gripping the only thing keeping it in place, the drone reached out to do just that. One false move, and it would be left behind as the Predacon turned a chunk of Beach City into a crater. Steven hadn't taken his eyes off the action since it started: "C'mon, Dad. Show 'em what you can do."

A blanket of fire now surrounded the falling satellite, making it that much harder to see. But, after a few more tense moments, both clasps had been retracted. "The spark chamber's open!" gasped Elita, sounding just as overjoyed as she was surprised.

"Now comes the hard part," Magnus said gravely. "Removing the spark should be simple in concept. However, it will likely take both of the drone's hands to lift it." Everyone knew what that meant for the procedure, but Greg was undeterred.

"I've come this far," he said confidently. "I won't let you down now!" He reached forward with the drone's free hand, which grabbed hold of the open spark. They had fallen far enough to see the surface now, able to just make out the peninsula where Beach City was. Greg knew what he had to do, and once he started, he only had a split second to do it.

"So, uh, not to sound like a downer, but just in case, I've really enjoyed our time together," said Sideswipe. "I'm…gonna go face my end with dignity now." He then stepped outside, looking up at the sky with his arms outstretched.

Carefully maneuvering the controller, Greg made the drone lean to the left, tilting its arms just right. "Steven? Count me down from three!" he said.

"Okay. Three…two…one…NOW!" shouted Steven.

On his mark, Greg let go of the satellite, allowing the momentum to swing the arm around and grab the spark. He pulled back, sliding it out of its chamber as the Predacon's body continued to fall, already dissipating to rust. There was a brief silence, as everyone tried to comprehend what just happened.

"YES!" shouted Ultra Magnus, his fist in the air. "He's done it!" Everyone gathered around Greg, cheering. The day had been saved, all thanks to him.

"He did? Hot dog!" said Sideswipe, stepping back inside. "I'm not becoming one with Primus today!" He joined the others in lifting Greg into the air.

"Aw, it wasn't that big a deal," Greg said bashfully. "I just know my way around machines, is all…"

"'Not a big deal?' Dad, you just saved everyone!" cried Steven, hugging his father. "I knew you could do it!"

"You certainly did," said Elita. "Seems like we underestimated you, Greg. We won't make that mistake again, that's for sure!"

With the Predacon dealt with, all that remained was to bring the spark down to Earth. The drone's view was stunning, showing the curve of the planet from high up in the sky. "I don't think I say this enough: this planet truly is beautiful," said Ultra Magnus. "No wonder Prime wanted to protect it."

"Yeah, it really is," said Greg. "And I'm glad I could help, in whatever way I can."

As they admired the view, the dissolving satellite crashed into the temple, harmlessly scattering into a cloud of dust that covered the area. "So…who's gonna clean that all up?" asked Sideswipe.

AN: I thought for a really long time how I'd bring Greg into this story, considering his and Rose's canon relationship. I ran through several possibilities, from replacing him with an original character, to someone else from Transformers, to having Steven just be a protoform like Sari (or even replacing him with Sari!). Ultimately, I decided to leave him in, but to just have him and Optimus be platonic. This was all done on the understanding that Optimus Prime x Greg Universe would be a strange and ridiculous pairing, one that would make the story a bit hard to swallow. I ain't into crack ships like that!