Question Authority - 36A of 52

Question Authority
A Transformers: Armada Story
By William Rendfeld



“Well, if this doesn’t make it official, nothing else will.” A holographic readout of Velocitron flashed into existence beside Override’s holo-avatar, a small flashing point indicated in brilliant orange. “A second reaction, same as the first and in the same place.”

“We experienced much the same here,” Scourge’s avatar sourly admitted, a similar readout of Animatros popping in beside him. “The reaction’s location isn’t quite as narrow as that on Velocitron, but it exists nonetheless.”

“And combined with the estimated course data from Atlantis, there’s only one conclusion.” Evac turned from the avatars to his two leaders. “Two of the Keys are on Velocitron and Animatros.”

It took everything Optimus Prime had to keep himself restrained. After months of research, analysis and speculation, they finally had firm evidence to go on with the quest for the remaining Artifacts. Retrieving them was another matter, but one that would quickly be dealt with. “Any signs with the current search efforts?”

Both colonial governors shook their heads. “Even with the territory narrowed down, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover,” the femme racer explained.

“Not to mention lack of specifics about what we seek.” The Decepticon dragon’s optics narrowed. “If you want us to find these Artifacts, we will need more information.”

“You shall have it.” Vector Prime was the image of calm but was every bit as eager as the younger Prime, just barely smiling. “We are transmitting specifications for Mu and Lemuria to each of you on encrypted sub-channels. The Keys should remain within those craft.”

“And if Accellas and Draco were anything like Methius, they’ll want ‘em hidden out of sight, underwater or underground.” The Earthen Autobot apologetically nodded to his two counterparts. “It’s not much though.”

“Some info is better than none, but we’ll need more than intel, Optimus. We need people on the ground to search, especially given past experience,” Override pressed.

“Agreed. We’ll dispatch teams shortly. Until then, good luck and keep us posted.”
The two holo-avatars blinked out of existence, leaving the three leaders to themselves, and Evac side-glanced the Autobot leader. “So, who are you sending?”

An uneasy pause. “We’re still working on that.”

-

The skies over London were surprisingly clear and pleasant, somewhat unusual for the capital given its penchant of having light rain throughout much of the year. The midsummer sunshine gave the city a beautiful glow, casting light over one of the oldest cities in Europe. Down in the busy streets, Londoners went about their business, shopping and eating and enjoying their daily lives. Many didn’t even notice as a silver-white shuttlecraft descended from the skies above, making a beeline towards Canary Wharf.

“Director Hartman, we have the shuttle on radar.”

“Allow landing clearance and roll out the red carpet.” A confident smile grew upon the face of Yvonne Hartman as she peeked under her sunglasses and watched the shuttle’s descent. “Company’s coming, and I don’t want this spoiled.”

As she watched from atop the main roof of One Canada Square, the shuttle slowly descended into the opened pyramid of the building, its downwash sending what wasn’t pinned down flying alongside the updrafts. A small landing ramp extended from the ship as a hatch slid open, five passengers disembarking.

“Dr. Masters, a pleasure seeing you again.”

“Ms. Hartman,” Diana curtly greeted her counterpart, shaking hands while hanging onto her hair from the wind. “I hope you’re ready for the inspection tour.”

“Certainly.” Hartman looked over the four Mini-Cons accompanying the doctor. “Astroscope, Sky Blast, Payload, and...Caliburn, I believe?”

The fourth Mini-Con crossed obsidian arms as he regarded her. “Thoughtful of you to get our names right.”

“There’s no future in not being polite.” She gestured towards a waiting freight elevator. “If you’ll kindly accompany me, we can begin.”

The five followed, Caliburn watching the woman with suspicious optics. -“Have I mentioned how much I disagree with all this?”-

-“You have, at length, and no one blames you.”- Astroscope was glad that his team’s ‘bodyguard’ had switched over to standard Iaconian instead of using English. -“However, I doubt they’ll do anything. There is an agreement, after all.”-

-“Yeah, well, agreements were made to be broken.”-

“Is everything alright?” Hartman asked as they stepped into the elevator, trying and failing to comprehend the digital-sounding language.

“Yes, fine, just talking about the weather.” The Mini-Con composed himself to keep a sense of neutrality. “Keep on expecting fog, that’s all.”

If Hartman had any suspicions of her own, she kept silent as the elevator doors closed, tucking away her eyewear. “Well, no fog today. Especially here at Canary Wharf at this time of the year.” The elevator began to descend, and she began her presentation. “Now, any questions before we begin?”

“Just one – how much did the BBC get right?” A surprised look from the director, and Diana sheepishly admitted, “I’ve seen the new series on the Sci-Fi Channel, and more or less spoiled myself with Wikipedia.”

Hartman gave an appreciative smirk. “A fair question. True, Torchwood was found in 1879 by Her Majesty Queen Victoria following an encounter with an extraterrestrial entity resembling a werewolf, but no Time Lords were involved. Almost a shame – the Captain and I would get along famously. Much to her credit, Her Majesty saved herself that night, but was quite convinced afterwards that Britain needed to defend itself against all threats, terrestrial or not. We couldn’t be lucky all the time.” The elevator doors slid open, indicating their stop. “And after more than a century, we don’t need to be.”

The six exited the elevator and walked through a massive storage hangar, stacks of crates piled about and various workmen and soldiers stationed throughout the room. Above them, held in place by numerous support pylons, was an extraterrestrial craft, in various stages of being dismantled.

“I’m guessing that’s where you got that cannon of yours,” Diana queried.

“A Jathar Sunglider,” Yvonne clarified. “Violated our airspace back in the mid-nineties. We shot it down, salvaged it, and now we can keep Britain’s skies clear.”
The archaeologist diplomatically kept her mouth shut about their recent attempt at “keeping Britain’s skies clear”.

“Rather impressive that you were able to do all of that here.”

“Who says we did?” Hartman countered Astroscope, her Manchester accent slipping in for a moment. “Torchwood One is merely primary operations and research. We’ve other facilities throughout the Isles and the Commonwealth – Torchwood Two’s archives in Glasgow, field operations and storage at Cardiff’s Torchwood Three, as well as numerous smaller research facilities... Why else do you think Britain bothered over the Falklands?”

“And Glasgow’s probably where you moved that pod you found, isn’t it?” Caliburn earned another look from the Torchwood director. “Where do you think they found me?”

“Pity we didn’t get a chance to open it up and talk before hand – you would have liked it there.” The group exited the hangar from the opposite end and proceeded down a staircase. “In fact, you may well have been able to assist us with something of a conundrum. Torchwood One is based above ground rather than below because we detected an unusual energy disturbance in the skies above London some time ago.”

“Where exactly above London?” Diana’s natural curiosity got the better of her.

“Three floors below us. We don’t know much about the disturbance – it’s putting out noticeable traces of some type of radiation, nothing harmful to us humans but roughly equivalent to Hawking radiation.”

“The stuff a black hole emits,” Sky Blast realized out loud. “You’ve got this thing behind a couple dozen barriers, right?”

“No need – what it’s releasing is quite harmless, actually decreasing over time, but nothing’s going into it. You can’t even see it without specialized goggles.” As they left the stairwell and entered a hallway, Hartman pulled out her ID pass. “We’ve several extra goggles inside the chamber.”

Swiping the ID at the security scanner, the standard red LED switched over to green and the door slid open. Entering, the group found a trio of scientists hard at work with various instruments and displays. On the opposite end of the room, numerous sensors arrayed around it, was what appeared to be an empty wall. The lead scientist, a tall Indian man, noticed their arrival and approached with a pair of goggles in hand whereas one sat on his head. “Director, welcome. I didn’t realize we were on the tour.”

“Sorry Raj.” Hartman introduced the scientist as she received one pair of the eyewear, Diana gaining one herself. “This is Dr. Ragesh Singh, head of our research division. He’s been heading up our analysis personally. Ragesh, this is Dr. Diana Masters and her party.”

“Interesting little... Whoa...” Diana slipped the viewing piece over her eyes, their coated lenses reminding her of a pair of 3D glasses, and immediately caught sight of the phenomenon: a lightly pulsating batch of color that rippled gently as if caught in the wind. “I can see why you’re all so interested in it now. Any ideas guys?”

Astroscope quickly scanned over the eyepiece Diana wore, resetting his optics to match before looking at the odd disturbance. “By Primus... This is marvelous...!”
Singh stared at the Mini-Con in surprise. “Then...you know what this is?”

“Oh yes... This supports a lot of theories we have back on Cybertron.” The other techs now giving him their full attention, the Mini-Con scientist decided to elaborate, “This is an interdimensional reaction front, a space-time echo effect. You see –”

“Boss, let me,” Payload gently interrupted, forestalling a very long-winded explanation. His leader relented with some disgruntlement, and the black and blue Mini-Con took stage. “Basically, back on Cybertron we’ve theorized that our universe is one of a potentially infinite number of parallel universes, all a little bit different from each other.”

“Like that TV show ‘Sliders’, or DC Comics before the first Crisis,” Diana posed. And some people considered entertainment lacking foundation in the various series’ numerous, not to mention fantastic, ideas. “People have talked about that here on Earth, quantum mechanics and all. But what does that have to do with this?”

“Well, it takes energy to move from one place to another – you burn calories walking, a car burns petroleum, a rocket burns fuel to get into space.” Payload gestured towards the wall. “Traveling between universes, assuming it’s even possible, would take a slagload of energy, and it’d have a noticeable effect.”

“Then this is a sign of someone traveling between universes...perhaps coming here?” Singh asked, cupping his elbow in a thinking gesture.

“No – if it was, we’d see something and have no energy readings.” Astroscope’s optics adjusted on the effect, switching through various spectrums. “As I said, an echo effect. Someone’s traveling from one universe to another, or merely swinging temporarily into the barrier between dimensions before coming out, and in a parallel world, this is where they’d be emerging. All we’re seeing is an echo of their exit point.”

“And the really annoying thing is, we can’t even figure out where they’re coming from or going to beyond what we have here.” Payload gave Singh a polite nod. “All you really can do is monitor until the echo fades.”

“Which will be in a little over one Earth year based on the readings you’ve gotten so far,” Sky Blast added, glancing through the series of printouts and data. “Whatever storm is going on though, it isn’t passing through here.”

“Interdimensional travel... Fascinating.” An anticipatory gleam entered the British’s eyes at that notion.

“Don’t get too interested – it’s more trouble than its worth, and Earth doesn’t even have the materials necessary to make an interdimensional transport, let alone fuel it.” Payload reset his optics back to their normal settings, letting the image fade. “Besides, it’s not worth it. We’ve got enough demons in this universe to deal with.”

A quick chime sounded off, prompting Diana to move a hand to her pocket. “Sorry, that’s me.”

“We’ve got it too.” Astroscope turned away from the object of his interest with a wistful sigh. “Ah... If only more time and equipment…”

“We’re going to need to cut the tour short.” Diana slipped off her goggles and handed them back to Singh. “We’ve just gotten contacted by Autobase Earth – something’s come up.”

An eyebrow arched on the Torchwood director’s face. “Anything we need to know?”

“Only that it’s not on Earth and can’t hurt any of you.” Caliburn gave a curt wave as he followed his comrades out.

-

“That message couldn’t have come at a better time.” Nightcruz leaned back in his seat, giving his fellow Mini-Con a relieved glance. “I don’t know what’s worse, Nightscream – being here with the guns ready to fire on us, or being out on the field with real dangers waiting.”

“I know what our partner would say,” his copilot answered. “Better to know where the fire’s coming so you can get out of the way. Though the sooner we get away from this place the better. With friends like Torchwood, who needs Unicron?”

“I hear that.” The embarkation ramp descended, allowing Diana and her fellow visitors to reenter the shuttle. The purple and charcoal grey Mini-Con looked back as they strapped into their seats. “How was the tour?”

“‘Interesting’ about sums it up,” Diana answered, strapping in. “Thanks for getting us over here so fast, by the way.”

“Better this than an orbital bounce any cycle, I say.” The shuttle hatch closed and Nightscream began keying in commands. “Hang tight, beginning ascent. ETA to Autobase Earth one hour ten minutes.”

Payload leaned forward with a critical look. “Any idea what that thing we saw in there was all about?”

“Well, let’s assume for a moment that the fictional Torchwood from this aforementioned television program exists in a parallel world mirroring said program.” Astroscope turned to Diana as he added, “Whatever happens on that program...will most likely happen there.”

With several expectant optics leveled on her, the young woman couldn’t help but grin. “What, you want me to spoil you? Look it up yourselves.”

Caliburn gave an annoyed grunt. “Well, whatever it is, they’ll probably have it coming to ‘em. Between Sector Seven and Torchwood wanting their hands on our tech and all the other trouble we’ve had on this planet, small wonder that anyone likes us.”

-

“...it’s been announced that the Transformer-backed Solar Tower project in New Mexico is moving forward, despite opposition from not only political circles, but also within assorted religious groups. Several evangelical ministries have protested the presence of the Transformers, claiming that they are an ‘affront towards God’ and an ‘attack on religion’–”

The radio cut off abruptly as a sharp turn was made towards the base entrance. “‘Affront towards God’ my shiny silver skidplate.”

Kicker gave his fellow passenger an exasperated look, one the young woman shared. Misha shook her head and tried to put on a comforting smile. “It’ll take time for them to get used to all of you, Camshaft. You need to be patient.”

“Awful hard to be patient when you see something so predictable.” The display that would normally show the radio station or music’s track number flashed in sync with the mech’s voice. “I’ve seen it a hundred times on a hundred worlds, and Earth’s no different from any of them. No offense, but you’ve got way too many people caught up in way too many religious beliefs.”

“You think religion is a bad thing then?” asked the young woman.

“No, but blind faith and devotion to it is. Here on Earth, various religious sects have caused more pain and suffering in the name of righteous ideals than anything else. Wars have been fought over belief systems, people needlessly persecuted. And now these evangelicals are convinced they have to press their system on us, because we worship the ‘wrong’ God.”

“Are you saying Primus is the ‘right’ God?” Kicker couldn’t help but quip.

“No, just that there’s more supporting evidence. You can’t see a soul, but you can see a Spark. Legendary artifacts are well and good, but where the Ark of the Covenant is a myth at best, the Matrix of Leadership is a reality. We don’t even worship Primus – we just acknowledge that he exists and go about our business. Should we force you to believe our God breathed life into your people just because he did so with us? No, but people still want us to do that with Christianity or Islam. It’s like they forgot Vector Prime’s appearance at the Vatican right after Christmas and what he said.”

“‘Primus gave life to myself and my brothers, but someone else gave life to Primus,’” the eldest Jones child quoted. “I don’t think they forgot it so much as they twisted it around.”

“Going right back to my earlier point – you can’t get them to compromise. According to Judaism, a Messiah will be born unto man. According to Christianity, that Messiah was Jesus of Nazareth. According to Islam, Jesus wasn’t the Messiah, just another Prophet. Don’t get me wrong, he said a lot of good and nice things, but a lot of terrible and nasty things were done in his name. But even if Christ turned out to be the Messiah, came back to set the record straight, you’d still have people misinterpreting his words or complaining one way or another.”

As they approached a rock wall on Longs Peak, the mountainside split open, sliding into the rest of the mountain and allowing them entrance. Camshaft slowed to a halt as the gates closed behind them, his own doors opening to allow the two teens to exit his cabin before he transformed and looked at Misha with a single unchanging lens-like face.

“I’m not saying that people shouldn’t believe in something, just that they should be willing to grasp others’ beliefs, accept them and move on, and not be afraid to adapt their beliefs to fit new facts.”

“And what about all those groups we’ve been hearing about that believes the Transformers are the saviors of humanity? I can’t help but keep thinking that they’re starting to be as bad as the originals.” As if to support her statement, she pulled out a slightly crumpled brochure that one of said Transformers-worshipping group members had shoved into her hands, the cover’s image juxtaposing the Autobot and Mini-Con symbols next to each other.

“Now that’s crazy.” Kicker punctuated his point with a raised finger as the three walked along the entrance hall, the Autobot at a deliberately slower pace. “We’re the only ones who can save ourselves, Misha. All the Transformers can do, especially the Autobots and Mini-Cons, is give us a little help now and then.”

“And it’s better that way. Ancient humans used to think of Evac, Minerva and Hightail as gods, and we don’t want that happening again.” Familiar footfalls heralded Scavenger’s approach, the green and purple mech purposefully marching towards the trio. “Glad you three could make it.”

“And miss the news from Cybertron? No chance.” The young man gave a quick look about, scratching his head in puzzlement. “Where’s the rest of the command staff?”

“Thundercracker’s in Operations with Sideswipe waiting to hear back, and Smokescreen’s helping with a presentation outside. Everyone else is running security detail – we don’t want anyone sneaking up on us.”

-

Franklin politely saluted his superior. “I appreciate your presence, Mr. Secretary.”

“Michael, whenever you mention something related to these friends of yours, it’s all but a given that I sit up and take notice.” Keller took in the surroundings of the forest around him, paying careful mind of the clearing around the rock face in front of them before turning to the mech beside him. “Now, Smokescreen, what have the Autobots cooked up for me to see?”

“It’s not our show, sir. We just helped out a little.” The blue and red Veyron activated his comm.-line. “We’re ready Coby. Roll out.”

A portion of the cliff face slid away, exposing a small maintenance hangar to the light. Keller slipped off his sunglasses to get a better look at the presentation as several light, steady footfalls issued from within, inching closer to him and the others. Despite the lack of reaction from their larger host, his security detail fidgeted minutely, as if wanting to drag him back into the waiting Lincoln. As it entered the light, Keller started in surprise. “Is that thing what I think it is?”

“Yes and no, Mr. Secretary.” Franklin gave a proud and amused smile. “You’ll remember during the Battle of Longs Peak, a number of Scrapmetal drones were mobilized against the Autobots, albeit all destroyed with no casualties on our side. Someone got the brilliant idea to try salvaging them, maybe doing something with them. With Autobot assistance, we now have ourselves a prototype.”

The device was a Scrapmetal drone, predominantly red and black but with clear accents of bright blue around its cockpit-like front and custom markings along its legs and on its back, an Autobot emblem over a pair of wrenches on prominent display. It walked forward, fully emerging from the service hangar and into the sunlight before coming to a short stop after it approached the group.

“You rebuilt one. What’s keeping it from attacking?”

“We took out the control systems it had and replaced them with a cockpit made for a human pilot,” Smokescreen explained to the older man.

Keller raised an eyebrow. “And who’s piloting it?”

“That’d be me, sir,” a voice answered from the Scrapmetal’s speakers. The spider tank seemed to kneel to the ground until its main body touched it, a portion of its front flipping up like a cockpit’s canopy.

As the young pilot jumped out and removed his helmet, the colonel gave another smile. “Mr. Secretary, this is Coby Hansen. He suggested the idea of building a piloted mech and did quite a bit of the work himself.”

“Not all of it, sir,” Coby protested modestly, ducking his head. “I had help with the construction and programming.”

Keller looked in amazement from the teenager to the Scrapmetal and then back while shaking the middle Hansen’s hand. “How old are you son?”

“Just turned fifteen.”

The Secretary of Defense laughed in astonishment. “Fifteen years old and cooking up this. I’d never see my grandchildren with this much initiative.” He turned back to Franklin, reigning in his amusement. “It’s an impressive science project colonel, but I don’t see much use for a walking tank when the rolling ones work just fine.”

“It’s not just a walking tank sir.” Franklin nodded to Coby, who quickly re-donned his helmet and climbed back into the cockpit. “These things were made by the same race that built many of the Transformers. It can pull off some of the same things the Autobots can.”

The Scrapmetal rose to its feet and stepped back a few short steps, then shifted in place. Its forelegs remained legs, but now straightened out to a more bipedal form. Its rear legs shifted to form arms ending in five-fingered hands, while the large cannon atop its back shifted to its right shoulder. The cockpit moved to its chest while a bright blue human-like head with green optics topped its shoulders. The Air Force colonel could barely hear the sharp intake from the agents at the demonstration.

“We modified a flight simulator to work as an operating system,” Coby’s voice explained from the robot’s mouth as it flexed its arms. “Everything works fine except for the cannon – we disabled it, but we’ve got specs if you want to mass-produce.”

“And how exactly are you talking through that thing?” Keller asked. “Some clever part with the helmet?”

“Like what’s being used on Air Force craft with built-in cameras,” the teen confirmed. “I move my head, the robot’s head moves with it. And with the built-in headset, I can talk through it pretty easily.”

“And even if the military decides it’s impractical, you can still find civilian uses for it,” Smokescreen suggested. “Swap out the cannon for a construction crane, for one.”

Keller rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “A compelling argument. Now, why use the red? I thought these things came in different colors.”

“We used a red one as a prototype because it’s a more basic version – the blue and yellow ones are specialized for stealth and hazardous environments, respectively.”

“Make sure the idea works before trying it with the custom jobs.” The elder man nodded with understanding towards the colonel’s explanation. “What’s the cost of manufacturing?”

“We’ve already retrieved the wreckage from here on Earth, and the Autobots are willing to put together several of these for our use. About the only cost is in the power system, a type of Energon battery.”

“Basic little thing, easily swapped out and replaced, we make about as many of them as you do regular batteries.” The operations officer turned to the secretary. “Your opinion so far?”

Keller studied the prototype, impressed with what he saw but considering other various scenarios. “It seems even a science project can be remarkable. But I’ll need a field test before I can show this to the Joint Chiefs or the President for approval, much less the military contractors.”

“I thought as much.” Franklin turned to his superior. “Mr. Secretary, there’s a small issue that’s come to our attention...”

-

When you think you’ve heard all sides, listen for another. That was the creed that Headline lived by, both as an Autobot and as a journalist. In order to solve a problem, you needed to understand all sides of it, get as much information as you could get and look at it from every available perspective. A full grasp of the facts could solve the greatest disputes, or at least reduce them in severity. It was her job to get those facts, present them to her fellow Cybertronians in an objective perspective, and keep them informed.

Said facts, however, were not always in the open. More often than not, she had to seek them out, find them, get information from those involved, even if it was like hammering out deep dents. It took time, but it was worth it. And she enjoyed every nanoklik of it...save when she reached a dead end.

Which is precisely where she was now as she sat in the Crystal Gardens of Nova Cronum, trying her best to wrap her processor around what she knew and had gathered so far. Big things were going on, she could feel it in her Spark – rumors had been flying for some time about efforts towards off-world missions, the lack of word from Nebulos, and the unusual energy surges, the most recent being less than a mega-cycle ago. Something was up... but she didn’t know what, and she wasn’t sure who she should go to about it.

She leaned back on the bench, resting on her hands and looking up into the early evening sky, Cybertron’s moons visible on the horizon. There wasn’t many she could talk to about this – most of them were dead or missing, and the only one left who didn’t fit into either category wasn’t being talkative at the moment... Which was a surprise, given it was Bumblebee. And if he was keeping quiet, that could only mean...

Her proximity sensors quickly flared – one advantage of being connected to a satellite network, she always knew when someone was approaching. Normally this wasn’t a problem, as Cybertron was a big planet with many inhabitants...but in this case, the approaching signal wasn’t exactly a friendly.

She jumped to her feet and withdrew the only weapon she had, a small pistol, and on automatic checked its energy charge.

“You aren’t going to need that. I’m not stupid enough to try anything.”

The femme turned cautiously towards the source of the voice, her optics landing on a tall mech with a Decepticon emblem on his chest, purple and black and bright yellow. She recognized him easily, having seen him long ago. “Astrotrain.”

“Headline,” the bounty hunter returned. “You remember me. Good – we can skip introductions.”

“Why are you here?”

Astrotrain pulled his ionic blaster from behind his back and placed it upon the ground, lightly pushing it away with one broad foot. “To talk.”

An optic ridge rose slightly on the femme’s face. “Suppose I don’t believe you.”

“Suppose I point out that I served my time, avoided as many of my old cohorts as possible, and that were I still supporting Megatron, I would have heeded his more recent calls to arms. The odds are against me sticking with him.” He gestured towards his gun. “Plus I’m unarmed and you are. What Autobot, particularly a pacifist, would shoot first?”

The mech raised a good point. She relaxed marginally, but kept her pistol ready just in case. “Okay. Why are you talking to me?”

“You’ve been making inquiries lately about some rather interesting things. Those two energy pulses that hit Cybertron recently, the lack of information about Nebulos, and a few bits of activity in Autobot Command. I’m curious about all that myself.”

“And why would a Decepticon bounty hunter be interested in all that?”

“Because I somehow got involved, and I’ve got some information you might find useful for your investigation.”

Headline kept her optics upon him for a few short seconds before storing her sidearm away. “Alright. What is it?”

“Not with me – I don’t keep anything valuable with me unless I need it.” He took a slow step and retrieved his gun. “However, I’ll tell you this right now. While I was on a job, I had a team sent by Autobot Command come after me for information about someone I met a while back. You come with me to my safe house, and I’ll fill you in on the details.”

The reporter studied him for a few short kliks, thinking over her options before deciding that this was probably worth the risks. “Alright. Lead the way.”

-

“And thanks to Nebulos suddenly going missing and all the recent carnage on Cybertron, we don’t have many mechs to spare.” Scavenger’s holo-avatar grimaced thoughtfully. “I’m starting to see the problem here. You need the Wreckers, the Dinobots and Checkpoint’s unit guarding the ports and Vector Sigma until we can get them patched up.”

“That’s about it, yeah,” Jetfire admitted. “Not to mention potential overkill, considering who we’re talking about.”

“It’s all but a given Megatron knows about the Keys, and probably picked up on their signal just as we did, and that’s ignoring our other dance partners. And if Grimlock encountered the Terrorcons... Well, you see the problem.”

The bulldozer nodded at his commander’s words. “So, just like chasing after the Mini-Cons then. How big do you need the teams to be?”

“We’re thinking three Autobots, any partners they have, and a team of Mini-Cons for the first team, a mixed group as backup.” Starscream seemed to shift uncomfortably. “No offense meant to anyone, but we can’t spare as many mechs as you can.”

Scavenger nodded. “You’ll be there when we need the help. I suppose you need recommendations?”

“Either that or someone to compare notes with,” the Autobot 2IC offered. “Velocitron’s not a big problem – we just need a few good ‘Bots who can keep up with the crowds, preferably with a scientist or two in tow.”

“Agreed. See if Magnus can spare Swerve and Roadhandler. But what about Animatros? That place is unstable on a good day, and Scourge isn’t the most cooperative.”

“No argument. I’m afraid we’re going to need a few tough ones there.” Optimus leaned back slightly in his seat. “You think Overhaul’s up for a command run?”

“Probably, but he’s an unorthodox choice.” A smirk crossed Scavenger’s face. “Though if Magnus has taught us anything, sometimes unorthodox works. I’ll make a suggestion of my own to go with him.”

“Knowing you, it’ll be a good one. Send word when you’re ready to send them over – we’ll be ready by then.”

“Understood. Autobase Earth out.”

The transmission cut off, and the three commanders turned about to exit the communications chamber. Jetfire tilted his head. “I’m assuming you’ve considered who else might’ve picked that up.”

“Vector Prime was kind enough to remind me before he and Evac left.” The Autobot leader turned grim. “Which is why I have someone specific in mind to go to Animatros, someone neither of you will be happy with.”

“You aren’t thinking of sending who I think you’re thinking of sending, are you?” The Decepticon leader looked at Optimus in shock. “He’s dangerous at best, unstable at worst.”

The carmine semi’s optics dimmed. “I know, which is why we’ll need him. If anything can trash a servant of Unicron, it’ll be him.”

Jetfire shook his head. “For the record, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“All three of us do, Jetfire,” Optimus admitted as they left the communications chamber. “Doesn’t make it any easier.”

Rushed footfalls sounded off down the corridor, followed by a shout. “Jetfire, sir!” The trio turned to find a familiar hacker rushing towards them before skidding to a halt. “Optimus Prime, Starscream, sirs, there’s a problem.”

“What is it, Wirejack?” the Autobot commander questioned gently.

“You remember I’ve been building on and improving some of the internal security on the computer systems?” the young Autobot explained. Unfolding the screen on his gauntlet, the F-14 projected a small snippet of computer code running real-time. “I found something while I was installing a new one – this was nestled in the communications network. The code doesn’t fit in anywhere, and I’ve analyzed it every way I can think of.”

“Any ideas what it is?” Starscream asked, scanning the data.

“Only a few possibilities. I’m still checking and double-checking...but something tells me this isn’t some bit of junk data on our servers.” Wirejack looked at them nervously, fighting to keep his wings still. “Based on its behavior when I found it however, I’m betting it’s some kind of virus.”

All three instantly looked at the hacker with alarm, Optimus immediately asking, “Can you wipe it?”

“It’s adapted to everything I’ve tried so far, but I’m still working on it.”

“Keep us informed,” the Autobot leader ordered.

Just as the trio turned to depart, Wirejack timidly added, “There’s one more thing.” They turned to face him again. “I do know how it got into the system – it  piggy-backed on a communications signal, to use a human term. Part of the code matched up with an IDC from an Explorer vessel, probably picked up by the virus as part of the transmission. And the ship was the Ark.”

The three once more shared a worried glance before Jetfire turned back to his young protégé. “Has it done anything?”

“It’s only semi-active – all it’s done for the time being is copy itself. Considering the number of transmissions sent out by the Decagon on a regular basis, it could be in every communications system in the Cybertron Alliance by now. I’m still analyzing it to see just what it’ll do when it goes active.”

“And we can’t isolate it without cutting communications off for the rest of the planet or the colonies,” Starscream snarled slightly. “We need to deal with this, now.”

“Agreed.” Optimus turned to the hacker. “Excellent work finding this, Wirejack. Keep your analysis going and see if you can isolate this thing.” He looked to his brothers. “Anyone good with...?”

“Scattorshot’s our number two when it comes to programming on Cybertron,” Jetfire immediately sounded off.

“And Flamewar knows a thing or two about codes,” added the Seeker.

“Get them, but keep this quiet.” He nodded at Wirejack. “As I said, keep us posted.”

“Yessir.” The hacker saluted as the three quickly departed. He turned about, replacing his gauntlet and continued with his analysis, hoping that he could figure this thing out...

-

As the transmission closed on his end, Scavenger turned towards the smaller Autobot he’d spoken of. “So, you in?”

“Poking around on Animatros?” Overhaul crossed his arms, a hint of apprehension on his face. “Yeah, I can manage that just fine. In command of a team poking around on Animatros though... That’s something else.”

“Then you’re saying you won’t do it?”

“Never said I won’t, just that you’d be better off having someone else in command. I’m a brawler, not a leader.”

A smirk from the bulldozer. “They said the same thing about me a lot of the time. Besides, I think Optimus has something else in mind. If we picked up those signals, then Megatron probably did as well. So who else do you think is on that list?”

The smaller mech grimly narrowed his optics. “Starting to see his logic. Who’s your recommendation?”

“Talon. She can use the experience, as Rodimus can spare her for the time being, and there’s someone there I want her to meet. Beyond her and Optimus’s pick, go with whoever you want.”

The grim expression turned confident with a grin. “I think I know just the mechs.”

-

“Mirage? Hey, bro, you with me?”

The black and yellow Mini-Con’s optics flashed to life. “Sorry Downshift. Lost in my thoughts.”

His teammate gave him a sympathetic look. “Let me guess – thinking about the Speed Chasers, huh?” Met with a quirked optic ridge from the other race car, he patted him on the shoulder. “We all are.”

“Speak for yourself,” came their third from his workstation. “I’m trying not to. Bad enough we have rogue Decepticons to worry about, now we’ve got Mini-Con... What’s that word humans use for walking corpses?”

“Zombies,” Downshift supplied.

“Thank you, zombies.” Dirt Boss shuddered, as if a chill ran through his body. “Don’t even want to know what happened to them. When a Transformer loses their Spark, they should stop moving, period. No walking around, no transforming, no fighting, no combining...”

“Dirt Boss,” came his commander’s rebuke, “we’re all fully aware of how unnatural that was. No need to explain it in depth.”

Downshift slumped against the wall next to his commander. “I’m stuck on that too... They can’t really be dead, because otherwise we’d be less effective combined and stuff. Their Sparks are still online, just obviously not in their bodies.”

“Then where are they?” Mirage grimly asked. His tone softened as he added, “And what can we do to bring them back?”

Their resident scientist turned away from his work towards his teammates, not wanting to admit it but knowing that there was no denying reality. “I don’t think we can.”

The three remained silent for a few moments before their communicators beeped. Mirage answered, “Race Team here.”

“Overhaul – need you guys for a mission to Animatros. You up for it?”

A single glance went between the trio before their leader answered. “We’re in. What’s the mission?”

-

Of all the things that John Keller ever expected to do while in office, this was the one thing that had been furthest from his mind, even after the existence of the Transformers became common knowledge. “Let me see if I understand all of this correctly, Michael. You want me to ask the President to authorize the dispatch of American citizens and soldiers to not just one, but two alien worlds?”

Disbelief was almost clear in Franklin’s voice as well. “That’s exactly what we’re asking for, Mr. Secretary.”

Keller shook his head as he sank into his seat, glad for some small comfort in the human areas of Autobase Earth. He glanced to the third among them. “Well doctor, you’re our resident expert and liaison. What can you tell me about these places?”

The flat screen monitor upon the wall flashed to life and began displaying images as the archaeologist cleared her throat. “Velocitron and Animatros are Cybertronian colony worlds, settled a little over 11,000 to 15,000 years ago. We have strong evidence to believe that they are where two of Atlantis’s sister ships, Mu and Lemuria, landed after they left Earth but before the planets became fully inhabited. The Autobots are sending search teams to both planets, and we think it’s in our best interests to take part and assist.”

The secretary gave her an incredulous look. “You honestly assume that we can do more towards finding two spaceships than a space-faring race can?”

“Dr. Masters provided a great deal of assistance towards the Autobots in locating Atlantis in the first place, and gave them some leads regarding the other ships. There may be some other insight that she can provide.”

“Which is why you want to go to both planets?”

“No, I don’t need to go to both.” The screen shifted with Diana’s words, displays of Velocitron and recent sensor data overlaying several maps. Keller was immediately reminded of the desert in the southwestern states, especially the Valley of Fire in Nevada. “The authorities there have been very good at keeping an eye on what goes on in their skies. They’ve got the location of the ship down to a small area; thus, I wouldn’t be able to provide much there.”

“Velocitron is where we’d like to conduct field tests on the Scrapmetal prototype. It’s well-populated, and the colonial government there is more than willing to provide supervision and field assistance for the tests.” The monitor shifted again to show ground images of the planet at Franklin’s words, the colonel momentarily taking over the presentation. “Velocitron itself is mostly a desert world, covered in a number of motorways and racetracks. There’s plenty of space for a field test, plus an extensive monitor network to keep an eye on it.”

“Then I assume you want to go to this...Animatros place?”

She nodded, images changing once more, this time to something out of the Amazon or one of the Hawaiian Islands. “Unfortunately, it’s not nearly as safe as Velocitron. It’s mainly dense jungle, heavy seismic and volcanic activity that makes our Ring of Fire look like Kilauea on a calm day, recorded vicious plant-based life forms, and other things I believe biologists and geologists would seriously debate the merits of long-term studying. In addition to that, the government there isn’t quite as welcoming, nor quite as on the ball about finding their ship.” Diana gave a rueful smile. “Which is why I need to go there unfortunately – the survey team will need all the help it can get, as well in the liaison area.”

“And we can’t send one person to one planet and a lone archaeologist to another.” The Air Force colonel produced two files and handed them over to his superior. “Dr. Masters is going to need at least two assistants for the search on Animatros, as well as a security detail. As for the people we’re sending to Velocitron, Coby is one of the only few who can operate it effectively, and we’ll need more mechanics or engineers than soldiers out there.”

“Not to mention a custodian, parental consent, and at least one man on the ground to oversee everything.” Keller glanced over the two files, and stopped for a moment when he caught sight of one of Franklin’s recommendations. “Colonel, are you sure about this?”

“I helped get the program this far, I want to see it through. And as for the rest of our recommendations...”

The older man held up a hand, stalling the younger man’s explanation. “Them I’m not protesting.” He sighed and continued to study over both before looking up. “I’ll talk to the President. If he signs off on it and there aren’t any major complaints from anyone else, you two have your field trips. In any case, you may as well start packing.”

The two nodded their consent (Franklin saluting) and exited, a door sliding shut behind them. As they got out of earshot, Diana let loose with a small snicker. “Beller’s going to hate this.”

Her military counterpart barely kept himself restrained. “Her and most of our friends at Sector Seven. Do you think they’ll be ready for it?”

“The kids? They’ll go nuts.” Considering the remaining hurdles, she sobered up. “Though that leaves the parents to deal with for Coby and Lori. That won’t be easy.”

“We’ll figure something out. As long as we don’t have any unexpected surprises, we should be just fine.”

-

“Thrust, I assume we have properly analyzed that signal.”

The tactician quickly brought up the requested information on one of the Nemesis’s display screens. “We have, Lord Galvatron. The signal came from Cybertron and had two responding signals, to which we’ve traced to the colony worlds, Velocitron and Animatros.”

“Just as Terrorsaur suggested.” Galvatron leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers. “Remind me, what are our numbers?”

“Twenty-four, with the addition of the Constructicons.” Thrust looked at his leader carefully. “Shall we be dispatching teams then?”

“We shall.” The warlord thumbed a few buttons on his command chair, calling up several of his subordinates. “Blastcharge, have repairs been completed upon your vessel?”

“We should be finished pretty soon, so yeah.” The black and silver tank gave a confident chuckle. “These new guys know a thing or two about repair work, let me tell you.”

“Excellent. The Sea Slug will set course to Animatros. Command Ravage, are your subordinates fully healed?”

“We are ready to be dispatched sir.”

“Good. Your unit and Terrorsaur shall head to Animatros and locate whatever the Autobots are seeking.”

“What, why me? I–”

“You have done almost nothing to contribute to the cause, Terrorsaur. You shall serve as support on Animatros, or you shall be left on this ship, with me.” A simple tilt of his head, light gleaming off his optics in a dangerous glint. “Is that clear?”

The green and orange Decepticon gulped a small squawk. “Yes boss.”

The screens flashed off and Galvatron turned his attention back to his second. “The rest of us shall go to Velocitron. Have the ship ready for deployment, and woe be to the Autobots who cross our path.”

“Yessir.”


...to be concluded...