Valor and Venom - 34A of 52

Valor and Venom
A Transformers: Armada Story
By William Rendfeld



All around him were the soft sounds of bubbles popping, of mixtures being prepared, heated, cooled, readied for his use. Plant extracts from a dozen worlds were arrayed around him, sorted by phylum and species and thoroughly cataloged. Living specimens, his pride and joy, were placed about him as he pruned them at odd points, trimming them in order to prevent overgrowth.

This was more than he could have dreamed but a short time ago. A lab all to himself, on a planet rich in exotic plant life, each with their own unique and interesting traits. Had he remained with that shortsighted fool after that disastrous battle, he’d be unable to take proper advantage of his talents...even less the opportunity presented by this marvelous little globe. There were so many botanical materials to work with, possibly more so than any previous planet he had visited in the past before being locked up in the Acheron.

He remembered full well the reports given by the Mini-Cons that had chosen to strike against Megatron; how Dualor had come in contact with an individual on Earth with impressive resources...one in need of a good scientist. In return for his services and assistance, the scientist would be left in peace to further his own ends and supplied regularly. He didn’t know how the man had acquired so much high-yield Energon, but at the same time, he didn’t care. He was left to his work...and this time, nothing would stop his efforts.

As he added more food to the soil surrounding his latest opus, the blue and grey Decepticon cooed softly. “Now dear, let’s try this again. I want you to say...‘Feed me, Brushguard...feed me...’”

-

She looked up and around herself in awe, the massive steely-grey walls rising up around her with blank communications screens arrayed upon them, bright lights shining down from above. “They did all this.”

“They didn’t have a choice. The ship they arrived on was becoming way too small for them.” Diana looked upon her redheaded guest with a small grin on her face. “You going to stand around being awestruck all day Stella?”

The redhead shook her head. “Sorry. I’ve only met just Mini-Cons. It’s hard for me to think of Transformers bigger than them, even after all I’ve seen.”

Diana’s grin turned into a proper smile. “You’ll get used to them soon enough, don’t worry.” She gave the younger woman a gentle nudge, moving her towards a nearby door.

The large door slid to their right, and the two women entered a large lounge area, clearly built for human comfort. Their feet rested upon hardwood floors that led to carpeted areas. To their left was a well-stocked kitchenette -- cabinets filled with various eating and cooking utensils accompanied by a large refrigerator and freezer, an oven, a microwave, and a working sink mounted into a long counter. Beyond that was an open area containing a long blue couch and a coffee table resting in front of a plasma flat screen that could put the ones currently on the market to shame. And waiting for the human pair were two sets of Mini-Cons, each of them casting their optics at the door as the two entered.

“Stella!” two voices cried in delight, one from Twirl, the other Servo.

Stella smiled and laughed, receiving the two with a warm hug as they responded in kind, three of their comrades approaching happily. “Hey! I missed you guys!”

“We missed you too!” came Twirl’s response, her faceplate etched with joy. “You look great. Want a drink? We can...”

The lone Mini-Con that hadn’t rushed to see Stella shook her head. “Let Red breathe already Twirl. Girl canna answer if she canna talk.”

The small pink and white stealth bomber let go of the girl with a giggle, Stella smiling in return. “You’re okay Twirl. Coffee’s fine.” As Twirl rushed to prepare the requested drink, the woman turned to the taller Mini-Con femme. “No hug for you, Falcia?”

Falcia gave a flippant wave. “Eh. Never been a touchy-feely type. Donna need ta hug yah ta say ah’m glad ta see yah though.” While her faceplate showed no signs of a smile, a twinkle in her optics did otherwise, and the redhead simply grinned.

“Well, if all of you are done standing around,” said the last of the Sonic Assault Team, gesturing to the couch. “Have a seat.”

Both women sat down, the Mini-Cons taking up positions around them as Twirl continued with her coffee-making.

“You have to tell me what all’s been going on since last time,” Stella asked eagerly. “What have you all been up to?”

“Odd things here and there mostly,” Flat-Out answered as he sat down. “Helping all the reawakening Mini-Cons to get acclimated and caught up has been the big thing.”

“Not ta mention kicking some Decepti-can.”

“I heard about that on the news back in December,” Stella said, looking towards Falcia as the Mini-Con relished her memories of the battle. “Sounds like you got out of it okay.”

“Well, it wasn’t easy,” Servo noted. “We probably could’ve used your secret weapon.”

Diana gave the redhead a sideways glance, getting an uneasy chuckle and a mouthed “Later” in reply. Taking that as a signal to change the subject, the professor added, “We’ve also been going over what happened with the crash.”

“Oh yeah...you guys were thinking someone sabotaged the ship that brought you here, I remember.” Stella cast her eyes towards the leader of the Super Stunt Team. “Any better idea how, or who?”

Redline shrugged, studying a datapad with half-interest. “It was definitely sabotage, no argument about that. Whether it was done before we left Cybertron or afterwards we don’t know for certain. All we do know is that the Decepticons probably weren’t the cause.”

Stella blinked in confusion. “I thought they all wanted you guys as slaves.”

“Not that simple,” Combusta corrected as Twirl arrived with two mugs of coffee and a steaming pot. “All the ‘Cons under Megatron wanted us for that, but the rest could care less. A bunch of them even ended up leaving him.”

“Some were spies in his group, others simply grew tired of following his orders,” Diana elaborated, taking up a mug and breathing in its aroma. “Most of them would have the ability to do something like sabotage the Mini-Con ship, but none of them actually did it. They were all in hiding at the time.”

“And none of the Autobots would do it either,” Flat-Out continued. “That just leaves the Mini-Cons, but none of the Decepticon-aligned ones were online when the ship was launched.” Stella gave him a quizzical look. “Preventative measure - they were put in stasis before the ship took off. The rest of us only went into stasis after the ship’s engines were destroyed and we started making planet fall.”

Stella considered that fact, and began to reason, “Then...the only way sabotage could’ve happened, would’ve been if someone who wasn’t in stasis sabotaged it. But who?”

“That’s the million dollar question.” Redline leaned back against a wall as he sat down upon the carpeted floor, tossing the datapad onto the coffee table with practiced ease and watching it skitter next to its stacked look-alikes. “We’ve brought the matter up with Optimus Prime and the others; they’re just as concerned as we are.”

A nod from the redhead. “Speaking of, I didn’t see many larger Transformers on the way in. Where are they?”

“Most of them are probably in New Mexico,” the older woman explained. “The Autobot Corps of Engineers has been at work on a solar power array over there for the last few weeks as part of the treaty. Today’s the grand opening, so they’re in Gallup for diplomatic reasons, final checks, security and so on.” She quickly retrieved a remote from the coffee table and said, “In fact, it’s probably on CNN right now.”

-

The sun shined down upon the facility, its rays reflecting off the glistening metal structure before him. The massive tower stood as tall as a skyscraper, shaped vaguely like an hourglass, supported by a wide base and three long pylons running down from midway up the structure towards control centers built for the human staff. Upon its top were six massive groups of photovoltaic arrays, designed to catch and absorb oncoming sunlight from every possible angle and convert it directly into sunlight, a massive golden globe in the center further magnifying the power-giving rays of the sun.

Franklin smiled appreciatively as he took off his sunglasses. “Not bad for a few weeks work Ironhide.”

“Thank you Colonel,” came the slightly nervous reply of the tower’s architect, a massive blue and red Autobot. “Glad to see someone appreciates this thing. The way the press has been reacting, I almost thought everyone hated it.”

“You can’t make everyone like your work Ironhide.” A second Autobot, colored in the traditional yellow and brown of a construction vehicle, looked in satisfaction upon the structure alongside them. “I know that better than anyone. They’ll come around though, given enough time.”

Sentinel chuckled. “Funny you mention time. I’m just glad for all our sakes that we had a chance to do this, given what could have been.”

“‘What could have been’ became ‘wasn’t’ thanks to you and Kicker.” As the large mech allowed himself a small bow, a chirrup sounded from the Autobot architect’s comm.-link. “Yeah Longrack?”

“It’s show time Roadblock; the press are getting antsy, and Wirejack reports systems are ready for activation.”

“Understood. We’re on our way.”

Ironhide cast one more nervous glimpse at the tower before him, then followed his mentor and their allies towards the nearby gathering of reporters. He silently hoped that things would go without a hitch, not eager for this project to go wrong. They worked so hard on this, even with questions from wary people and a certain belligerent senator.

As he left, he caught a small glimpse of something moving in the distance. His optics narrowed in upon the vehicles - a trio of eighteen-wheelers with trailers - bearing the legend “ARBCO” in deep red letters. The architect simply shrugged, then hurried to catch up.

-

“Ladies and gentlemen, members of the press, honored guests,” came Franklin’s familiar voice over the speakers in the command deck of Autobase Earth. “We thank you all for attending this historic occasion.”

“Nice to see Ironhide’s finally got something cool he can show off in public.” Sideswipe leaned back in his seat, looking up at the screen before him with clear enjoyment. “Still don’t get why we can’t just build them some Energon refineries.”

“Same reason we aren’t building them more oil rigs,” Scavenger spoke, also watching the proceedings. “Energon might be a lot more powerful, but it’ll run out eventually. The sun, meanwhile, will be here a lot longer than the human race. Maybe longer than us. Besides, this seemed like the wiser course; Energon’s a new thing for them, and solar energy isn’t.”

The communications officer righted his seat, steadying himself with his console. “Makes sense I guess. Just hope they like it.”

The current Earth commander grimaced and crossed his arms, something niggling at his circuits. Predacon rested a hand on the bulldozer’s shoulder treads upon noticing the apprehension. “Relax old friend. This is an important day; it would do little good to be so glum.”

“But why do I get the feeling we aren’t the only ones that are going to treat it with any importance?” the former academy instructor murmured, warrior’s instincts flaring up.

-

“I still have serious issue with this project Mr. President.” Beller attempted to remain calm as she spoke, although the loathing in her voice for the subject matter was all but evident. “If this is successful, we’ll be relying on the Transformers even further.”

“If this is successful, I’ll be giving the world one less bit of reliance on oil,” the Commander-in-Chief’s accented voice responded on the other end. “You’ve been supporting energy initiatives ever since you entered office Senator. This is exactly what you’ve campaigned for.”

“I campaigned for electric cars and lowered emissions from factories,” she shot back. “This is totally different, and I for one will be protesting it at every available opportunity.”

She could barely hear the aggravated sigh at the other end. “Senator, I don’t have to remind you of the game we play. This passed, however barely. You win some, you lose some. Wait until next time.”

The dial tone played across her ear following the click of a cut line. Reluctantly, Beller set the phone back upon its receiver and sank sullenly into her chair. Blue eyes focused upon the muted television before her as officials from several government organizations and a few Transformers stood before the hated solar tower. It took all her willpower to keep from snarling at the sight, much less throwing her remote at the screen.

-

“...and now at long last, if everyone will allow me a moment to remember my verses, I say, let there be light.”

Ironhide couldn’t help but snicker as Franklin, alongside the Secretaries of Energy, State and Defense, flipped a massive golden switch mounted upon a wall. The device was purely ceremonial - it didn’t directly activate the solar tower, it merely signaled the staff to bring systems online. The same effect, but slightly less dramatic when one knew how it worked.

As he watched, the massive panels atop the tower swiveled in place, sweeping up upon their multi-jointed arms to face the sun. Sensors built into the arrays allowed the systems that maintained the power plant to track the Class G star’s progress through the sky, although much of the panels had been built to allow optimal solar collecting without too much movement on the PV modules themselves. The globe ascended into position upon its pole, reflecting further light upon the panels.

“Ironhide, this is Wirejack,” the programming specialist spoke. “It’s online and working; estimated power levels at over nine thousand megawatts. Shame this isn’t hooked up to a grid yet, but we’re definitely charging a lot of batteries in there.”

“Any news is good news,” Ironhide said over the inter-Autobot frequency as the gathered press and politicians at his feet milled about in excitement. He cast quick glances in the distance at the various Transformers standing guard, as well as the few who were near the stage themselves as part of the ceremonies. He allowed himself a triumphant smile.

-

“Nice that the kid’s toy works,” Cliffjumper noted from his perch at the weapons console aboard the Axalon. “Shame it isn’t hooked up to anything.”

Bulkhead flicked the back of the younger Autobot’s head with one finger, prompting an indignant squawk. “They’ve established that it’ll generate power safely lad. Now, seeing as that little detail’s dealt with, they can deactivate it, then hook it up to a grid.”

“And if it works like Ironhide says it does, it’ll be enough power to keep the lights going in Gallup indefinitely.” Rodimus leaned back in his seat, a smile on his youthful face. For once, things were running smoothly, despite trying to ignore that feeling of something imminently coming. “After everything that’s happened lately, this’ll be a nice sign to Earth and it’s people that we’re on their side.”

Sirens sounded off as Tow-Line’s voice quickly filled the command deck. “Don’t count your protoforms before they come online - we’ve got something on sensors! High-altitude aircraft moving hot towards the facility!”

The Autobot cavalier sprang to his feet. “Get a signal down to Ironhide and Autobase, and get that thing onscreen! I want an origin point, now!”

-

“I’ll have to hand it to you Mike, when I heard about these robots of yours, I was scared out of my wits.” The Secretary of Defense gave an easy chuckle as he took the colonel’s hand and admitted, “I’m still scared, but now it’s more awe than fear. You did good putting us on a fair basis with them.”

“Thank you Mr. Secretary,” Franklin replied as he shook hands with his superior. “With any luck, this is just the first benefit of the Cybertron Accord.”

“Excuse me.” Ironhide had leaned down beside them. “Colonel, Mr. Secretary, there’s a problem.”

Keller’s own cell phone went off shortly afterwards. As he retrieved it and listened closely, the howl of engine fire rang in the distance, causing several people to look up curiously while Franklin’s soldier instincts were already running. The secretary quickly hung up and moved to the podium, calm face belying some of the negative emotions he was feeling. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve received word of an approaching aircraft! It refuses to identify itself! We’ve assumed it hostile, and the area is to be evacuated immediately!”

The gathered press and staff members quickly made for their vehicles within a barely controlled frenzy as Roadblock disconnected his gun from his right arm and took hold of it. “Build Team, Talon, Mudflap, Landmine, flanking positions around the tower! Longrack, Overhaul, make sure the civilians get out safely! Treadbolt, Race Team, Exploration Team, with me and Ironhide!”

Thundercracker’s familiar voice filtered in through their comm.-links, all of them now switched over to the combat frequency. “Aircraft spotted, coming in from west-southwest; it’s heading right for the solar tower. I’m heading in. Wirejack, back me up; that thing’s got to have an onboard computer system, see if you can hack it.”

“Roger.”

As the cabinet heads and governor were escorted to three armored vehicles nearby, Ironhide trained his optics on the distance, watching as the two Seekers took off towards their target. He saw it just within his visual range as it closed in; its exterior was black, and he could barely see it for the heat trail it was putting out. “That thing looks familiar...”

Franklin was given a pair of binoculars by a soldier on station, and was also studying the airborne intruder. “I know that silhouette; it’s an SR-71 Blackbird, our design. We all but retired those planes almost a decade ago.”

“Someone must be an aviation fan.” Roadblock readied his gun. “Thundercracker, the sooner you get to that thing, the better!”

-

The deep grey Flanker streaked towards the oncoming plane, his backup flying close behind. “I’ve got him in my sights, but sensors are having trouble locking on and I’m betting it’s because of whatever ECM it’s using!”

“Linking up with the onboard computers!” came Wirejack’s report, his hacking processors interfacing with the bogey’s systems. As much as he preferred a direct link, wireless was his only option at the moment, and the young flier hoped he wouldn’t be cut off. “This is impressive stuff for human tech...almost too impressive! But I’m not getting any life support systems; a plane like this would have to have them...unless no one’s onboard!”

“Drone plane huh? That makes things easier!” The Decepticon’s Cyber Key flashed as his long-range cannon came online, barrel extending. As much as he disliked sight-targeting, almost any form of ECMs, be they Cybertronian-based or the recently tested Earth-based, usually rendered heat-seeking, homing, laser, and/or radar guided missiles pretty moot. “See if you can figure out who has the remote control; I’ll make certain their toy doesn’t cause more trouble!”

Suddenly, the drone Blackbird put on an additional burst of speed, forcing the two Cybertronians to weave past and out of its way to avoid a head-on collision. Before they could regain their bearings and follow, it was far distant.

“Okay, no way could an Earth aircraft do that.” Wirejack quickly redoubled his efforts to interface with the jet just as twin missiles descended from its technically nonexistent bomb bay.

Thundercracker was barely able to send a warning through the band before the ordinance fired off.

-

His deep blue optics peered out upon the incoming warheads, calculating the trajectory even if it wasn’t exactly a skill he employed often. Treadbolt flexed his massive brown fingers grimly. “Looks like these guys didn’t get the memo; we didn’t need a wrecking crew!”

“For once big guy, I think you’re onto something.” Roadblock simply took aim with his rifle. “Open fire!”

The three members of the Exploration Team quickly linked up with the massive dull yellow bulldozer, allowing him to fire off a single missile as his associates unleashed their salvo.

One of the warheads exploded, leaving a fiery cloud in its wake. The other shot past and collided with one of the support struts, just as the control center at its foot became empty. The slightly damaged structure was clouded in a fine greenish mist.

“No boom?” Downshift quipped as he looked at the aftermath. “That’s strange.”

“Obviously that thing wasn’t carrying an explosive payload.” Dirt Boss stepped forward but remained close to his allies, his optics trained on the damaged point. “Looks like some variety of spore; they’re latching onto the metal. Can’t determine anything else from this distance.”

“We’ll deal with that once that plane’s down.” Roadblock immediately reactivated his comm.-link. “Wirejack, please tell me you can deactivate that thing!”

“No such luck, but I’ve been able to figure out where the Blackbird is receiving its signal! Not much power, so it’s nearby...there! It’s coming from one of the big-rigs! About a mile from the tower!”

“Overhaul, Longrack, after that semi! TC, shoot that thing down!”

-

“Working on it,” came the Decepticon’s calm response as he zeroed in on the enemy aircraft. Ignoring the auto-targeting system tied to his missiles, he reactivated his Cyber Key and let loose the powerful burst of plasma, hitting the left engine dead center. The Blackbird itself exploded within seconds, wreckage raining down upon the ground. “That’s one less problem.”

The explosion, however, sent the cloud that had been drifting from the destruction of the first warhead flying into the tower. As it touched, the tower’s surface began to distort in color and break down, the spores within eating away slowly at the structure. Nauseous looks graced several of the mechs’ faces - some of them had read accounts of cosmic rust that ate through any sort of metal like nobody’s business and found the resemblance disturbing.

“You were saying?!” Talon flew as close as she dared and examined the damage, her optics narrowed in concentration. “Looks like these spores eat away at metals and plastics, a little faster with the latter.”

“Do what you can to contain it there, then move to the support strut,” Roadblock ordered over the frequency.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” the femme noted with a grin as she pulled out a small grenade and moved back a distance. She threw the explosive at the damaged section of the tower. It popped open on impact, coating the spores with liquid nitrogen and stopping their attack against the structure. A nod and a satisfied smile before she zipped over to the nearby support strut. “A frost bomb stops them easily enough.”

A loud rush of exhaust caught the Harrier’s attention and as she turned to look, caught sight of a set of missiles rocketing towards the building and the gathered Autobots.

The mechs on the ground opened fire, blasting apart two of the warheads as the rest broke apart into smaller missiles. Several blasted into Sentinel Maximus, the rest tearing into the base of the tower violently, blowing back Talon in the process before she could correct herself. The support strut buckled further, snapping at the point of damage and leaving the damaged tower to lurch.

-

“The tower’s collapsing!” cried out a small yellow and black Autobot, twin shovel blades jutting out from his shoulders. “Build Team!”

Suddenly, three of the Autobot’s fellows jumped into the air, locking mechanisms emerging from their bodies as they combined and formed arms and legs, the fourth linking up and locking into the central portion.

With long, thin black arms formed from the legs of one of his components, the combined Autobot grabbed hold of the structure, casting a glance back as the humans within the control center behind him continued to evacuate. A third arm quickly supported him, backed by massive gusts of wind heralded by a silver and blue flash of light.

The combined Autobot grunted. “Thanks guys, appreciate it.”

“Don’t sweat it kid,” Landmine called back, the winds bursting forth from his back-mounted turbines. He called to his partner and asked, “You okay Mudflap?”

The Decepticon crane had fully extended his crane arm, the end helping to support the structure and prevent its fall. He himself was braced on the ground, his legs spread apart to provide further support, but the strain was evident on his face. “I’ve dealt with worse!”

The last of the military personnel departed, some of the officers throwing worried looks as they glanced back when an ominous creak sounded off the sign of stressed metal.

“Landmine, you first!” the combined Autobot grunted. “Then you Mudflap! We’ll go last!”

“Landfill, you can’t support that forever!” the Autobot veteran declared.

“Don’t have to do it forever, just long enough for you guys to make tracks!” Another loud groan from the tower, warning of its impending fall. “GO!”

Landmine halted his Cyber Key and immediately transformed and drove away. Mudflap followed a second later, heading in the opposite direction. Finally, the Build Team separated, its members transforming to vehicle mode and driving away just in time as the structure collapsed at last.

Ironhide watched in shock from the distance as he and the Race Team saw to Sentinel Maximus, while Roadblock scowled. “Overhaul, I want some good news!”

-

“Working on it!” the Autobot warrior grunted as he and Longrack charged towards the semi rigs. Just as they approached, the third semi’s trailer split open down the sides, a set of missiles firing off.

The two Autobots transformed, twin flashes of silver and white light signaling their Cyber Key abilities coming online. Longrack lashed out with his massive right arm as Overhaul fired off an anchor-shaped blast of energy. Both strikes hit the missiles at once, destroying them without much difficulty.

While the small green Humvee let out a whoop of celebration, his orange and brown partner caught a glimpse of three small forms transforming and combining into a larger form, blasting away with three more forms holding tight atop. Overhaul noticed just as it blasted into the distance and faded from view.

Longrack gritted his dental plates. “Slag.”

-

“...while no life was lost, ABC News has learned that one of the Autobots, Sentinel Maximus, was damaged in the attack. He is currently in stable condition according to the Liaison Council. The project, according to the council, will be re-evaluated...”

The monitor froze on the destroyed tower as Optimus Prime turned to the gathered members of Autobot Intelligence. “Thoughts anyone?”

“Well, that was an impressive bit of demolitions.” Flareup’s optics glittered eagerly. “I mean, they hit it at just the right places to knock the tower down. That was a work of...” The femme took note of the uneasy stares pointing her way and grinned sheepishly, shrinking back into her seat a little. “Well, they knew what they were doing.”

Chromia shook her head in slight irritation and mild amusement of her youthful charge’s fascination with explosives. “Any word yet on how the support structures were damaged?”

“Only that some sort of spore was used, one that eats metal and plastics. It’s being given a thorough examination now.”

“Just one question then.” Mirage looked over the damage with a careful optic, choosing his words delicately. “No debating this was targeting us; we constructed that tower with human approval, and one of our own was blasted in the process. Are we going to be the ones to handle this, or are we leaving it to the humans?”

The door to the conference room opened. “Course we’re gonna handle this, Mirage. We’re just gonna have to be careful ‘bout it. And who better than the expert to handle ta careful stuff?”

The gathered Autobots looked upon the new arrival with pleasant surprise. He was slightly taller than Mirage, and much bulkier than the spy, with silver and black armor and four-pointed claws for hands. A deep blue visor rested upon his face, with an easy smile underneath.

“Jazz!” Bumblebee rushed forward and met his old commander with a friendly high-five. As the other members of his unit gathered around him, the yellow Autobot asked, “What are you doing back on Cybertron?”

“I asked him back.” Optimus stepped forward, Ricochet stepping aside. “No offense to everyone here, but if this goes as badly as I fear, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“’Preciate the vote of confidence Prime.” The intelligence agent shook hands with his commander and gestured to the screen. “Now, mind fillin’ me in on the details? I picked up a little from the news feeds, but the more info the better.”

“Very well. Here’s what we know so far...”

-

Smokescreen gave a low whistle as he surveyed the readings before him. “Speaking as someone who’s been where you are Sentinel, I don’t envy you. This has got to hurt.”

“Not as badly as you’d think.” Sentinel titled his head to look at the rest of Autobase’s unofficial repair crew. “What’s the estimate for repair?”

Along one of the damaged points on his arms, Coby examined the damage with the aid of a mini Maglite. “The good news is your armor took the brunt of the blast. What little got busted up on the inside can be repaired easily enough.”

“Yeah, this is light; you barely got grazed.” As the orange Mini-Con quickly retrieved a massive tub of parts, the doors to the repair bay slid open. “Look who’s here; hey kid. Who’s your lady friend?”

“Refute, this is Misha.” Kicker gestured to the thin, dark-haired girl at his side. “Misha, Refute.”

“A pleasure.”

“Likewise. I’d shake, but...” Refute raised an arm, his claw-like hand opening and closing with a snap. “Well, not really built for that.”

Misha gave a small laugh. “It’s fine, I don’t mind.” She turned towards the prone form of Sentinel Maximus, Coby and Liftor examining the damage close-up, and asked, “Is he going to be alright?”

“Compared to some of the damage I’ve gotten?” The blue and red Bugatti gave a chuckle. “Don’t worry. Patching up Sentinel should be easy enough. All he has to do is shut down that Overload unit of his, and we can get started.”

Just as Misha was about to ask just what Smokescreen meant, Sentinel Maximus’s head slid out of place. His chest, and a good portion of the internal part of his torso, disconnected from his body and landed upon the silver floor with a loud thud. The component, now resembling a heavy transport truck, transformed into a Mini-Con-sized robot bearing a small Autobot emblem, and walked towards the two.

Comprehension dawned on Misha’s face. “I get it! Sentinel Maximus is like Rollout; the larger body’s really just a Mini-Con combined with a combat frame.”

“Yes and no,” answered the small robot. “The technology is the same, no argument, but I’m not a Mini-Con. My proper name is Hyperlinq; I’m an Autobot, the same as Smokescreen but much smaller.”

“Remember that alternate future I came from?” Kicker gestured to the Overload unit as the repair crew went to work, absently listening to the techno-babble soon flying. “Energon was scarce; in order to conserve what they could, the Transformers started operating out of smaller and smaller bodies. Just as well considering how we managed to undo it.”

“Time travel would take a lot of energy.” The young woman glanced over the body curiously. “Is the device part of the frame?”

“The device practically is the frame. What space wasn’t devoted to transformation systems and the weapons was left mostly for Energon storage. I provided the power, and Kicker completed the circuit.” Hyperlinq shook his head. “No chance of it working now however; some of the components used in the device were fried in the process. We can’t put it back together even if we wanted to. Fortunately, the frame itself can still be used. Not much of a loss, all things considered.”

“Almost makes you think something wanted them to stay here.” Smokescreen gave the two humans a conspiratorial glance. “Spooky, huh?”

Kicker gave the operations officer a sad smile as he brushed aside memories of his timeline before moving over to help Coby. “We’re probably better off.”

-

“I’ve had people examining the wreckage of that fake Blackbird. Human design, no doubt, but with Cybertronian technology built in; the engines were too powerful, that remote control system is far too advanced for us, and we found traces of Energon as fuel.” Franklin rubbed the bridge of his nose while going through the report. Just when things were going so well between the politicians and the Transformers, this had to happen. “We might have a leak.”

“Some chance of that.” Scavenger rumbled darkly as he faced the monitor before him, looking over his own reports. “Anything on that ‘ARBCO’ company?”

Rustling of paper. “My contacts haven’t given me anything yet, but I expect something before too long. Any luck examining the wreckage, or the footage from the attack?”

“Astroscope’s looking at those spore things now, and Overhaul and Longrack are looking at the satellite footage of our escapees. Wirejack’s looking over the computer codes he gleaned from his hookup, just in case that grants us anything.” The large green bulldozer crossed his arms. “I’m surprised no one’s come forward to take credit.”

The Air Force colonel scowled. “They’ll come forward soon enough. No one can keep quiet forever.”

-

“Fascinating.”

“Fascinating? I give you spores that eat through metal and plastics, and you call them ‘fascinating’?”

Astroscope looked up from his scanner and gave Dirt Boss a pinned look. “What would you prefer I call them, dangerous?”

“Among other things, yes.” The yellow and grey Mini-Con glanced at the readout. “So, you’re better with plants than I am. Anything you want to chip in?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” The blue and red scientist carefully picked up the Petri dish containing the sample of spores. “I’ve examined the genetic structure of these spores; it’s been altered slightly. They’re definitely plant-based, but in addition to pumping out oxygen, these also excrete a powerful acidic compound. Said compound, as you said yourself, eats through most inorganic materials, including metals and plastics – similar to cosmic rust, albeit with some differences. Now that we know how it damages us however, we can figure out a method of countering it.” His optics turned to a large chuck of frozen materials. “Aside from coating it with liquid nitrogen at least. I’ll let everyone know when my team and I have found an effective countermeasure.”

The Race Team’s scientist marched off, muttering to himself. “The sooner the better.”

-

“Replay footage, time frame zero-nine-zero-one-four-eight to zero-nine-zero-two-zero-six.”

As Longrack furrowed his optics and reviewed the recalled footage, Overhaul huffed angrily. “Spores. Don’t need to review satellite footage to know what that means. This is Brushguard’s work.”

“It’s doubtful that he’s working alone however.” The small Autobot glanced down at Redline as he continued, “You saw six beings leave, three of them having transformed and combined into some sort of jet. They delivered the payload; clearly, they’re working with him.”

“And when we find ‘em, we’ll kick their skidplates but good,” Falcia promised, prompting a supportive cheer from Twirl.

Stella looked up at the monitor uneasily. “I don’t get it. Who’s ‘Brushguard’, and what does he have to do with these spores?”

“Brushguard’s a Decepticon. He worked with Megatron for a while before disappearing back during the battle here a few months ago. He’s a xenobotanist; thus, he’s probably the one who bred those spores,” Combusta chipped in, pulling up said Decepticon’s profile on a portion of another screen.

“An alien plant doctor?” The young woman shuddered. “That’s a little too creepy. But how’d he get the missiles?”

Diana shrugged. “A lot can happen in six months I guess.”

“Doesn’t matter how he got ‘em.” Overhaul pounded his fist into an open palm. “What matters is he’s out there. No way is he gonna do this again.”

Diana gave the green Humvee a hard stare. “Sounds like you two have history.”

“They’re family.” She cast a glance towards Mirage. “Something like it anyway. We Transformers don’t have families in the same manner as humans; no real fathers or mothers, creators are the closest, same as mentors. We have siblings and cousins, but that’s about it.”

Stella looked upon the yellow and black Mini-Con curiously. “How does that work? No offense, but you guys aren’t really ‘born’ in the same way humans are.”

“No, you guys are a little bit messier about it,” Downshift agreed. “With us, you just build a working body frame and plant a Spark in it. Lots of ways to do that too; there’s high-energy bombardment...”

“Blasting the body frame with a high amount of energy and hoping that a spark forms.” Flat-Out shook his head. “Wasteful, doesn’t work nearly often enough to justify it.”

“...spark bonding...”

“Sparks from two Transformers are mingled, creating a third spark mixing traits from both.” Servo shuddered. “Closest thing to what your people call ‘sex’. Just as dangerous and kinda creepy if you ask me.”

“...or the use of something like the Matrix or Vector Sigma.”

“The safe way.” Combusta’s voice indicated a smile. “You just turn the thing on, and boom, new little Transformers. Best of all, it can do the job in bulk.”

“And when more than one Transformer is given a spark at the same time, they’re considered siblings.” Downshift spread his arms and declared, “Simple!”

“And cousins?”

“Two ways.” Mirage raised one hand, two fingers extended. “One’s where the creators of different mechs or femmes have some familial connection, or have a common creator in the past. The other is...”

“...Similar body types.” Stella looked up as Overhaul explained bitterly, “There are a lot of common Transformer designs, some more common than others like the Seekers. Look hard enough though, and you’ll find plenty of Transformers that look exactly the same except for their paint job or something. That’s the only thing that links me to that garden-crazed psychopath, nothing else.”

“If it makes you feel any better, not all of us are happy with our ‘relatives’.” The brawler shot a glare as Wirejack looked up from his arm-mounted computer, data being transferred between it and the base as he typed. The hacker’s wings twitched once as he muttered, “Well, you try being called an ‘Autobot Seeker’ all the time.”

“But...putting it all like that, wouldn’t most of the Transformers have some relation to one another?” The redhead looked at Redline and asked, “I mean, there are other Transformers that look like you guys.”

“There are, and you’re right.” The crimson Mini-Con’s optics suggested a smirk. “That’s one big thing that’s helped against Galvatron; there’s more that unites us than divides us.”

“If I can distract everyone from their genealogical studies for a minute, I’ve got something.” Longrack quickly brought up a single frame from the surveillance footage. “This is the best angle I’ve got on the attackers. Any way you can clean up the image a little Wire?”

The young Autobot shrugged and continued typing.

The image brightened and became slightly more defined. Those gathered swiftly began to make out what resembled a trio of Mini-Cons, two with construction vehicle bits and one resembling a tank, riding atop an oddly-designed jet.

Kicker’s aunt blinked. “That thing...it looks like the Skyboom Shield.”

“Except it isn’t.” Mirage’s optics widened as Diana turned to him. “That’s the Magnawing Shield, the fifth Core Weapon. Not as powerful as Skyboom, but slightly more versatile; it also serves as a jet when combined, capable of ferrying another team of Mini-Cons or a smaller Transformer about on the battlefield. It’s the Speed Chaser Team.”

“And look who they’re carrying.” Longrack’s optics narrowed. “The Demolition Team. They sided outright with Megatron back in the Second War; had a fondness for blasting apart any building they saw.”

“One Decepticon scientist and a pair of Mini-Con teams.” Diana crossed her arms, a finger tapping the crook of her elbow. “What brought them together?”

-

The small jet and its three passengers streaked low through the air, cloaked from view and barely visible to the naked eye. It silently flew through the lower atmosphere, barely casting a shadow upon the surface of the deep blue sea beneath it. The passengers remained quiet as their transport approached a large island, jutting out from the sea like a partially-destroyed cone.

The aircraft slowed and deactivated its camouflage as a portion of the rocky island moved aside, allowing it entrance to a massive hangar, bustling with activity from numerous men and women clad in uniforms of either blue, purple or red. The jet halted, and the three Mini-Cons onboard jumped off.

“Another job well done.” Wideload stretched his arms unconsciously. “Seems these people actually know a thing or two about proper demolition.”

“I’ll say; that stealth plane was a great distraction.” Broadside eyed the guns mounted upon his right arm with a sad note. “Just wish I’d had a good shot at one of those support struts. Those spores of Brushguard’s didn’t work nearly fast enough.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Sledge gave an easy wave with one of his blade-like arms. “We’ll get another chance soon enough.”

“I take it from your banter that the mission was successful.” The trio turned as a group of soldiers approached them, at their head a fit, curvy woman in a black suit with long black hair and wire-rimmed glasses. Her voice, laden with a thick Slavic accent, commanded as much attention as her physique, if not more so.

The jet that the Demolition Team had arrived upon separated and transformed into three more Mini-Cons, their leader an angular purple and neon green one with ruby optics. “Indeed it was Baroness, though the news reports should have made that more than clear.”

“You cannot trust everything you hear on television,” the raven-haired woman countered. “Come. Your presence is requested by our...leader.”

The six followed the woman and her flanking troops. All about them, purple-suited workmen did final preparations on numerous deep blue aircraft, black ground vehicles, and ashen grey submersibles, aided in the latter case by a trio of murky brown Mini-Cons. Adorning each vehicle was a unique symbol, one that the six Mini-Cons either ignored or secretly derided; a deep red cobra, its fangs bared as if to strike at the viewer. It was a symbol of fear, one all but forgotten by the world...and about to be remembered.

-

“No denying it Jazz, it’s good to have you back.”

The silver Autobot laughed appreciatively as he and his friend walked down one of the Citadel’s many corridors. “Glad to be back Bumbles. I heard out on the Rim you guys have had some interestin’ stuff goin’ down; Megatron attacking the Council, finding the Mini-Cons, that whole treaty with Earth. Startin’ to think I shouldn’t have left.” He gave his smaller friend a gentle nudge. “I also heard you’ve done pretty good pickin’ up my torch.”

Bumblebee ducked his head, though he couldn’t quite hide the pride in his voice. “I’m not you. I just did what I could.”

“S’all I ever did kid, and I got by just fine, same as you.” His tone became slightly more serious. “Speakin’ of, how’s everyone holdin’ up?”

“Chromia, Flareup, Mirage and Ricochet are their usual selves thankfully.” The smile faded from the yellow Autobot’s face. “The same goes for Repugnus though, for what it’s worth. Still don’t know how to deal with him.”

“Quart of Maccadam’s best helps. And Fallback?”

Bumblebee grew downcast. “MIA. He was on leave on Nebulos when...well, you know. Only one ship got out, and he wasn’t on it.”

Jazz’s shoulders drooped. “He was a good mech. I’ll miss him. Always needed to lighten up though, poor guy.” He then shrugged. “That’s the way the oil drips though, y’know? Nothin’ we can do ‘cept hope he’s happy in the Allspark.” A firm look at the Espionage Director. “Not your fault though.”

“Easy thing to say.” As they approached one last door, marked by a golden Autobot emblem, he sighed. “Wish I could keep it to spark.”

The door cracked open. Gathered around a circular conference table were the various leaders of the Transformer factions, bright and welcoming light shining down upon them. Sitting alongside Optimus Prime in his simple bronze-colored chair were his closest advisors - Ultra Magnus, Grimlock and Checkpoint sat to his immediate right, with Jetfire, Vector Prime and Red Alert to his left. Near them, almost opposite were a few odd Decepticons, Starscream at their center and flanked by Shockblast, Barricade, Wreckage, Skywarp, Flamewar and Brawl. Atop the table were seated various leaders among the Mini-Cons, placed close to their partners - Sparkplug and Over-Run, Leader-1 and Swindle, Comettor and Thunderclash, Rollout, Longarm and Knock Out all had places at the smaller table atop a table. Jazz and Bumblebee took the two remaining seats, directly between Red Alert and Skywarp.

“There’s a sight for sore optics.” The purple Seeker gave the two arrivals a friendly smile as they settled into their seats. “Didn’t know you were back home Jazz.”

“Sounds like ya missed me.”

The Decepticon warrior returned the Autobot operative’s grin. “Maybe I just missed a member of the old guard is all.”

Those gathered swiftly turned as holographic avatars took form above the table before them. Chatter died down as the familiar faces of Scavenger, Rodimus, Thundercracker, Predacon, Astroscope, Anti-Blaze, Roadblock and Ironhide took form, alongside a hologram of their human ally, Colonel Franklin.

“I’m glad everyone could make it to this meeting,” Optimus Prime began. “A lot’s happened in the last few cycles, and it’s time we began getting it sorted out. Scavenger?”

The Earth commander nodded. “As everyone’s aware by now, the solar tower under construction here on Earth was toppled shortly after coming online. No human lives were lost thankfully, and the only Transformer casualty was Sentinel Maximus. He’s being repaired as we speak.”

“One advantage of a combat frame,” Rollout joked, sparking a smile from Knock Out.

“The cause of the damage was a combination of high-yield ordinance and modified plant-based spores,” Astroscope explained, ignoring his fellow Mini-Con’s comment. “The spores affected several portions of the tower and one of its support struts, eating away at the materials used. Heavy assault by missiles were enough to demolish it afterwards.”

“We’re lucky it seems.” Starscream leaned back. “Has anyone come forward to claim responsibility for the attack?”

“No one yet, but this has all the earmarks of a well-prepared terrorist strike.” Franklin gave an uneasy grimace. The armed forces and various departments, especially Defense and Homeland, were already going on with meetings nobody really wanted to attend but had to. He could almost hear the jokes about “military intelligence” starting up again. “I wouldn’t rule out al Qaeda; anyone associated with the West is an enemy to them, no matter what planet they came from.”

Checkpoint shook his head. “The payload was delivered with a remote-operated SR-71 modified with Cybertronian tech. I doubt they’d be able to get their hands on both, or use it that easily.”

“Whoever did it, we’ve increased our levels of military preparedness.” The Air Force colonel gave a determined expression. “This happened once. It won’t happen again.”

“Agreed. Our first order of business is figuring out who’s responsible. Once that’s done, we deal with them.” Grimlock gave a satisfied grunt as he heard Optimus speak. “Second order of business is to rebuild that tower, and make certain we can counter those spores.”

“Whoever did it definitely had Transformer help.” A small bit of footage came up on monitors as they rose up before the gathered Transformers. Rodimus elaborated, “We got a shot of six Transformers in control of the jet and a trio of semis. Positive IDs on all of them; the Speed Chaser and Demolition Teams.”

“I’d bet a canister of Energon crystals they were working with Dualor.” Sparkplug’s optics narrowed. “Armorhide mentioned him having support on Earth.”

“And I’d bet ten canisters of Energon crystals that Brushguard had a hand in those spores.” Flamewar frowned disapprovingly. “It was always his style.”

“We weren’t able to track them far though; they disappeared from the sensors right after they left New Mexico. We got a brief glimpse of them somewhere between the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean before we lost them again.” Rodimus vented a sigh. “We’ve already got word of where they disappeared to NORAD and the USN, but don’t count on a miracle.”

“Any good news?” Jetfire spoke up.

“Fortunately, we were lucky enough to obtain a sample of the spores.” More data appeared on the monitors as Astroscope took center stage again. “They don’t harm organics thankfully, and a simple silicon spray is enough to protect us from them. I’ve already begun treating everyone here with it.”

“And once we can gather up and scavenge enough materials from the wreckage, we can rebuild the tower.” Roadblock gave his student a proud look as Ironhide promised, “But I’m definitely modifying the design some.”

“Rebuilt tower or no, our priority lies with...” Those based on Earth gave small glimpses out of sight. Scavenger’s optics narrowed. “Looks like we’ve got our terrorists. Patching this in.”

The monitors upon the table once more shifted.

-

Upon a monitor screen on the Axalon sat a man behind a desk, clad in a deep blue uniform with a long red cape trailing down behind his back. The man’s face was obscured by a mask of similar color to the uniform, a pair of malevolent, fiery eyes underneath. Behind the man rested a set of long black flags, a red emblem emblazoned both upon them and the man’s uniform.

“Citizens of the world, mark this day well. Those of you who remember me know the power and might that I commanded against you long ago. That is but a shade of the power my organization now commands!”

-

“Thanks to the technology now granted to the world by our visitors from the stars, the Transformers, we have been revived, stronger and more powerful than before!”

Within her office, Beller narrowed her eyes; she knew there was something she didn’t trust about those machines.

-

“The damage done at the solar tower is merely a taste of what will befall you, should you not bow to our demands.”

General Abernathy reached out to a telecomm and pressed a single button, only crisply ordering, “Get me Franklin and Faireborn.”

-

“Sounds like we have exactly what we’ve been hoping for,” said a smooth, crisp voice with a British accent. “We’ll prepare ourselves immediately, Agent Simmons. Good day.”

-

“Don’t bother looking to your governments or militaries to protect you, you simpering fools.” Optimus’s optics started to go from their usual azure to a furious light blue as the man continued to hiss, “Nothing can protect you from the crushing jaws of COBRA!”

The message cut out. Those gathered looked to the Autobot leader as he simply raised his head and looked upon the gathered mass around him. One could almost, just barely, pick up a twinge of fury in his voice. “We have a job to do.”