Valor and Venom - 34D of 52

“You’re taking this pretty well.”

An uneasy smile. “Well, it could be worse right?” The false bravado faded away quickly. “What am I saying? I’m scared Kicker.”

An arm found itself around her slim shoulders. “I’m scared too Misha. No telling what they’ll do out there.” He hugged her close. “Did Aunt Diana ever tell you about my great-grandfather?”

“She didn’t need to, I looked it up.” Misha looked out one of the few windows of Autobase Earth, catching sight of a circling Apache in the distance. “Jonathan Masters was a diplomat; he spent some time in the Soviet Union during the early thirties, and wrote about the government there. He didn’t say anything positive about how it came to power or how it was being run, but he did give their system a thorough look. And that was enough for the House Un-American Activities Committee.” She looked Kicker in the eye. “Did you know him?”

The teen shook his head. “He died a little after I was born. Even after McCarthy lost influence, it was a long time before he was treated with respect. She was close to him, took a lot of it to heart. That’s probably why she isn’t that happy about all of this.” Kicker gave a small smile. “Knowing her, she’s probably having an easy time equating McCarthy and Beller.”

“Can’t blame her I guess.” The two teenagers turned as their onlooker gave a nervous laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

The young man shook his head as his lady friend blushed slightly. “It’s alright Miss Holley. We weren’t really that private.”

Stella shrugged. “I’ve noticed that with your family.” Misha looked at her in surprise before she explained, “I live next door to the other Chad Jones...the younger one, I mean.”

The younger woman looked at her boyfriend and grinned. “And here I was almost jealous.”

Kicker looked at her in alarm, but before he could protest, footsteps rang out. The three turned as Diana arrived. “We got through!”

-

Beller frowned as she idly tapped a finger against the frame of the buggy. No sign of their metallic friends in their mountain fortress...typical enough. They could last a lifetime in there - them and their traitorous allies.

The nerve of that woman, comparing her to that drunken fool. He was combating a clear and present threat, the same as her; he was vindicated years later, just as she would be. Nothing would change that.

“What do you mean there’s another ship in orbit?”

Her attention was turned back to Simmons as his associate, a woman with a British accent, answered back via a video link. “I mean there’s another ship up there, the third one if you include the one we hit. And it’s bigger than both of them.”

“Well, can’t you blast it? If something that big goes boom, it’d definitely take out the other two ships.”

“Two problems with that Simmons; one, our gun hasn’t recharged yet. Two, that second ship is beginning to make planet fall. Our estimates have it heading for somewhere in the Atlantic.”

Probably saying hello to their snake friends, Beller thought to herself.

“Well lob a Tomahawk at it or something! You have a Navy, use it!”

“We don’t have that authority. When our gun recharges in six minutes, we’ll shoot them down, but that’s all we can do.”

The line cut off, and Simmons muttered several choice words under his breath. He then turned to the driver and ordered, “We’ve still got that launch site in Canada; get word to them, they can...” A loud beep from his radio interrupted him. “What now?”

“Sir, we have incoming. It’s Marine One.”

“The President’s helicopter?” Beller turned to her associate, panic seeping through for the first time in the day. “Delay him!”

The loud sounds of airplane engines caught their attention as a group of F-22s flew overhead, circling the mountain and the helicopters arrayed around it.

“Don’t think that’s an option anymore,” the S7 agent muttered.

The two caught sight of the famous bi-colored Sikorsky SH-3 Sea King descending down a small distance behind them right away. Simmons and Beller climbed out of their vehicle as it landed and its hatch opened, the President stepping out and marching towards them with righteous fury, Keller and Banachek flanking him easily despite the wind generated by the chopper’s blades.

“Mister President, I -!”

“One minute Senator!” He turned to the younger agent. “You Simmons?!” The agent barely nodded before a hand was held out. “Radio, now!”

“I’d listen to him Reg!” Banachek advised over the downwash.

Simmons stammered, but handed over his radio. Without another word, the President cranked the volume to the max. “Attention! This is the President of the United States, Commander-in-Chief of all armed forces! This operation is cancelled effective immediately; the four Raptors are to escort all Sector Seven operatives to Petersen Air Force Base! Comply, or they will shoot you down! Authorization code seven-one-four-epsilon-six-oh-delta-four-nine-beta!” A pointed glare at Simmons as he handed back the radio. “That means you too!”

The agent looked from his radio, to the President, to his fellow S7 operative. “You can’t-!”

“Mister President, these robots are a clear and present-!”

“Senator Beller, Congress has accused my administration of overstepping its boundaries! Do you want to give me an excuse to say likewise?!”

She gestured angrily at the hidden base. “They’re helping the terrorists! How are we supposed to react to that?!”

“Some of them are helping the terrorists; the rest are helping us against them! They’re being honest; they used footage we gave them to determine this information, which we verified independently! They’re being civil, while someone in Britain decided to shoot at them. We’re lucky we haven’t sparked an interplanetary war!” He shot another glare at Simmons. “You deaf boy?!”

Simmons immediately rushed back to the ASLV he had ridden into the mountains on and climbed in. As it started up, Beller could only give the President a furious glare before following him back into the presidential helicopter. Today, it was over.

-

“Autobase Earth to dispatch team; sorry for technical difficulties, we had interference. We got the update from Hyperion; best of luck.”

“Thanks Scavenger, ‘preciate it.” Jazz quickly turned off the line, and then turned to the resident hacker. “Anything good kid?”

“Five nano-kliks.” Trying his best to hide his nervous tone, Wirejack cycled through the last of the coding on the retrieved palm computer. While hacking Earth networks was mere sparkling’s play compared to what he had to handle back on Cybertron – really, they put T3 to shame – it didn’t help that they might be on a tight schedule. It was already tricky enough on improvising a port of sorts with the appropriated equipment so he could directly connect the relatively tiny device. Wire could’ve done it wirelessly, but the downside to that was the possibility of the signal being blocked, which would lead to a broken connection and that was never good when you were hacking. As a chime sounded off, he couldn’t help but grin. While he could have just bypass the firewalls, the computer tech decided to trip the alarms on a delayed timer as a sort of payback. “I’m in! Beginning mainframe sweep.”

The gathered Autobots, Mini-Cons and humans looked upon the hacker with increased attentiveness, although leaving enough space. There was always the unspoken rule of not crowding any flying-type Transformer too much.

“We were right; COBRA found Brushguard right after the Battle of Longs Peak. But they restarted full operations right after they met with Dualor, started bringing in all sorts of equipment and munitions here. The Energon reservoir, an Autobot held in stasis, all of it was right here though, they just didn’t know what they had until now...oh slag...” He looked upon the others and explained, “The spores they used earlier; they have a lot more of them, weaponized and placed in ICBMs. They’re already prepped. They could launch at any time, strike any number of cities. These things won’t take down stone or concrete or glass, but steel or plastics...it’d be a disaster!”

“Then we need ta throw a monkey wrench in their works.” Jazz tapped his gun against his shoulder, processors running through various scenarios at high speeds. “Entry points?”

A holographic 3D blueprint projected over his gauntlet, highlighting a section. “Seven entrances we can use - the closest one is about a half-mile south.”

“It’s a loading dock, near the one we use all the time.” Swoop pointed in the direction the hacker provided. “We’ll need a distraction though.”

“Ask and ye shall receive.” The special operative once more activated his communicator. “Jazz to Hyperion; mind givin’ a little help?”

-

He seethed beneath his hood. “What was that, again?”

The trooper gulped audibly. “We’ve lost contact with the Predator Attack Team. They aren’t even showing up.”

The Commander growled. “Blasted technology, always failing! No surface-to-air missiles, no transforming robots lending their assistance, nothing! What more bad news is there?”

Another trooper timidly sat up when an alarm went off from his console. “Sir...our network’s been accessed.”

“Ask and one will receive,” Destro whispered in dark amusement to the Baroness before their leader erupted into another furious fit of rage.

“Our computers hacked?! Our mainframe analyzed?!! WHAT ELSE DO YOU PLAN TO REPORT?!!!”

A massive explosion sounded off, causing the room to tremble. Warning alarms sounded off as screens all around the control room shifted to show one single green helicopter flying around, transforming, and opening fire upon the island. Another screen gave the clear image of a massive spacecraft descending from above, appearing as if out of thin air.

COBRA Commander’s orders were swift. “Start the missile countdown! Launch aircraft, now!”

-

An underwater dock slid upwards and revealed itself, allowing several deep blue aircraft to launch. They rocketed into the air, turning and rounding on their target.

Bulkhead allowed himself a chuckle, then transformed to robot mode, his combat pack connected and ready. He then opened fire, blasting wings and engines and forcing all the pilots that came his way to eject as their planes exploded.

“The diversion’s being handled Jazz; time for all of you to make your entrance.”

-

Within the base, a group of COBRA operatives stood at the ready within a massive steel-grey loading dock, guns loaded and aimed. One looked up worriedly as a loud locking sound went off outside, but kept his gun ready.

Suddenly, the door was blasted away, its fragments raining down in front of them and shooting up sparks as they landed. Gunfire went off as the fragments reached the ground, a massive blue blast of energy and light tearing into the wall behind them. The COBRA troopers ducked to the ground, and looked up as their new arrivals charged in.

It was a chaotic scene. Two small aircraft, flanked by a metal Pteranodon and a crimson and orange dragon, swooped about the room, blasting the walls and tearing apart electrical equipment with little fanfare. Two dinosaurs stomped their way through, flanked by the remaining US servicemen. Some of the COBRA soldiers apparently seemed to think twice about attacking and chose to flee, escaping through the loading bay’s four exits.

“Little odd that none of ‘em got killed in that little mess, huh?”

Faireborn gave a small laugh at Mirage’s comment. “You should meet my parents sometime; the stories they could tell.” Mentally thankful for packing C4, she pressed the malleable plastic explosive onto the locks and along the hinges before initiating detonation when everyone was clear, weakening the steel door and allowing Knockdown to perform his namesake move. “Everyone with me. Let’s move!”

-

The Commander seethed beneath his mask, but allowed himself a small smile. “An invasion. Fine. Let’s see them deal with this.” Without another word, he slammed a fist down upon a console, signaling the ICBMs to launch. “A pity. I always liked Edinburgh.”

-

Tremors shot through the base as a massive blast rocked the chamber with the Energon pit.

“I knew these giant robots would be trouble!” shouted one COBRA officer, starting to have a breakdown. “I just knew it! We’re all gonna-!”

“Percy, shut UP!”

Just as Percy’s friend shouted for him to be silent, a massive blast tore apart the roof, forcing the two to scramble. Two massive robotic forms with similar coloring landed hard, then immediately cast their optics upon their brother.

Skyfall stepped forward towards Breakaway’s frozen form, and gazed upon it both cautiously and in horror. “What have they done to him?”

“Most likely very little, aside from keep him on ice.” Landquake surveyed the Energon pit and the various tubes leading into it. “The good news is that not much has been removed. Based on the residue, it looks like they’ve used less than one percent of it. As for the Energon itself...4.75 purity rating.” He lifted the various tubes out of the pit, the devices still sucking Energon from the pool as he did so, then opened fire upon the nearby equipment. “We need every able body Skyfall; the sooner he is thawed, the better.”

The deep blue jet stepped away, and then activated a comm.-line. “Wirejack, this is Skyfall. The one we’re looking for is stuck in cryogenic suspension; can you cut power to it?”

-

“Done,” the hacker replied, furiously going away at his keypad. “Power is being cut to cryo systems as we speak. Give him a minute, and he’ll be thawed.”

“Thanks,” came the archivist’s curt reply.

Wirejack quickly switched back to monitoring the battle’s progress and looked over to those with him. “They’re alright.”

Franklin gave a thankful nod, and then gave a glance towards Figueroa and the two soldiers who remained with him. “Any word on evac?”

“They’re on...” A loud siren rang off on his gauntlet computer, and the F-14’s optics widened. “Oh no...bad day, bad day, bad day...Jazz, bad news; COBRA’s making a launch, and we have incoming!”

-

“What kind of -?” came the special operative’s reply as he rolled along, the Race Team, Overhaul and Talon accompanying him. A blast shot across his spoiler, forcing him to swerve to a screeching halt along the ground cursing loudly in both English and Cybertronian.

From the surrounding forest emerged a familiar trio of deep brown Mini-Cons, guns discharging at a rapid pace. Before they could respond, the three members of the Race Team were themselves knocked aside, their counterparts in the Speed Chaser Team forcing them off the road.

One of the Aqua Raiders chuckled mirthlessly in a feminine voice. “Prepare yourselves for the void, Autobots!”

Overhaul simply spun his wheels, turning to one side and kicking up a layer of mud and grime. It blanketed their optics, giving him a moment to transform and kick them to the ground. “That all you got?”

A powerful laser blast tore into the ground near him, prompting the brawler to jump to one side. He looked up, and his optics widened.

Floating down ominously from above were the familiar visages of Sideways, Soundwave, and Nemesis Prime, their optics and faceplates glinting maliciously. The first of the heralds, purplish charges building between the twin prongs upon his head, sneered. “Not even remotely.”

-

Mirage flipped onto his back and transformed, landing beside his teammates as their opponents advanced upon them. “Top Gear...WHAT are you doing? Why attack us and the Autobots?”

His opposite deployed two twin-pronged blades, one from each arm that glinted darkly in the Caribbean sun while his answer was just as cold and full of contempt. “Serving our true master. Unlike you, he will no longer be hiding in the shadows. It is thanks to him that we are here on this marvelous, chaotic world...and we intend to make certain it is utilized properly. For unlike you brother, and the people of this world...” The familiar spoiler on his chest slid down and apart, droplets of liquid metal forming as it went - within the revealed Spark Chamber was nothing. “...we do not lack clarity of vision.”

Mirage’s disbelief was quickly replaced with focused anger as his sibling closed his empty chest. Inside his own Spark, the yellow F1 began to mourn...but that was for later. “Race Team...take them down.”

He reassumed his vehicular mode, then disappeared from view as the other two sped away, dust kicked up in the process. As it settled, Tailslide gave a mirthless laugh. “They ran. Just like always.”

The rev of an engine and the starting of motors flooded their audio receptors. The three looked in surprise as Mirage sped towards them, flashing back into view as he did so, and transformed just as his front collided with his opposite, his hands smashing into the faces of the remaining Speed Chasers. Mirage landed hard, and deployed blades of his own as his teammates returned and rammed their own opposites into nearby trees.

“You aren’t the only one who’s changed brother.” As Top Gear got to his feet, his expression still neutral, his opposite beckoned. “Let’s dance.”

-

“It can never be easy, can it?” Wirejack feverishly typed away at his keyboard, trying his best to halt the missile launches. As simple as it was for him to break through human-created firewalls as if they were nothing, stopping a launch sequence should’ve been accomplished easily. Unfortunately, he had little time to get deeper into COBRA’s network and had to improvise quickly when the warning broke through. A chime soon sounded off, and he stopped.

Franklin and the other soldiers looked upon him. “Well?”

The hacker heaved, not out of a need to breathe but more to cycle in fresh air to cool his systems. “I stopped all of them from launching...except one.”

-

As blasts issued through the COBRA base, Skyfall and Landquake waited diligently. As the latter took a quick check of the Energon pool beside them, a light cracking sound immediately had their optics trained on the frozen Transformer before them.

Sheets of ice collapsed to the ground, dropping from his frame like rain. Fingers curled and flexed, joints long at rest now active once more, before the ancient Transformer finally cast off his icy bonds. He wobbled a bit before Skyfall rushed forward and steadied him. “Easy Breakaway. You’re alright.”

He looked up upon him in surprise. When he spoke, the words came out softly and uneasily, as if he hadn’t spoken for a long time. “You...you know my name?”

The Warthog nodded as his fellow Transformer stepped forward. “We came to bring you home.”

Breakaway looked from one to the other, amazement and joy in his optics until he saw the pool. The optics narrowed. “No!” His voice rose as he regained his footing, a steel grey Energon star forming from the liquid energy and latching onto his back. Twin Energon weapons formed in his hands as he turned back to them, surprising the pair in how fast the newly-awakened mech recovered from his frozen sleep. “I failed to protect this reserve...but those who violated it will make up for what they have wasted.” The loud sound of rocket exhaust flooding his senses, the ancient Autobot amended, “Nor shall they use it for destruction.” He then transformed into his vehicular form and blasted skyward.

The others looked upon him, but did not argue. They instead followed his lead, summoning Energon stars of their own. Skyfall transformed to his vehicle mode and followed, Landquake activating jets and following behind.

-

Overhaul found himself flying to one side and crashing into the ground in an ungraceful roll as Talon wove and dodged through the air. All the while, Sideways attempted to blast them both, cackling maniacally while tossing out taunts that mixed in with the brawler’s returning curses. Some of the more colorful vocabulary had the Harrier wincing upon hearing them, getting clipped on the wing for her inattention before retaliating with several grenades. The black herald cursed in turn as the explosives hit his armor, even as it regenerated.

Nemesis Prime looked upon the scene, Soundwave at his side. “It’s good to be back on Earth again.”

“Save your appreciation of this mudball for another time.” Soundwave scooped up the Aqua Raiders. “Our task is done here. We must vacate.”

“Vacate our small friends then.” The dark reflection of the Autobot leader coldly watched Sideways work. “I’ve other things to attend to.”

The silent stealth craft made a sound not unlike a snort before fading away. The herald then returned his attention to the dogfight briefly before swiftly turning on his heel and stopping a strike from Jazz’s blade. He looked upon the long instrument curled in his hand, a hook at its end. “Pathetic. Are you Autobots nothing without Prime?”

The blade suddenly glowed red hot, and the special operative ripped it from the herald’s grip with a swift movement, tearing off his fingers as he went. Jazz followed it up with his gun, blue flames erupting from its end and enveloping the herald in a brilliant inferno. Nemesis Prime tore away from the Autobot, his arms flailing he went.

Jazz’s visor slipped upwards into his helm, a smirk crossing his lips. “Not so pathetic now, huh little guy?”

The herald stopped, then turned his cold optics upon the operative. His hands curled into fists, his feet were set apart, and he roared a bestial, animalistic cry of rage. A burst of darkened energy flashed from his body, taking the flame with it and prompting Jazz to turn away. When he looked back, his optics widened in surprise.

Where once stood a blocky, ebony and light brown form now stood something else entirely, massive and terrifying. Black and tan armor, with bits of red, silver, and shiny blue, now bedecked the massive form. From its shoulders, topped by missile banks, were massive blood-tipped tusks like those of an elephant, twin mace-like weapons emerging from just beneath its hands. Upon its chest was a symbol, like that of the Autobots but shifted around to resemble a fanged fox. Its helm was different, twin tan prongs emerging from its sides, but the face within it was the same.

“You mock my default form, small one.” Nemesis Prime’s optics narrowed as he summoned a massive cannon into existence. The device landed in his left hand, a trunk-like extension jutting out down his back. “Now witness my true power.”

Little fear, if any, flashed through the Autobot’s optics before his visor came down. Just another day of being a Special Ops agent. “Bring it, glitch.”

-

Seemingly unnoticed in the battle, the lone intercontinental ballistic missile took flight from COBRA Island, lancing skyward into the atmosphere in a shallow arc as it moved north. Following behind it were a trio of red, blue and grey Transformers, their flight systems taxed to the maximum.

“I hate to be the one to say it, but we don’t stand a chance of getting to that missile!” Landquake’s guns took aim. “Even if we do, how are we supposed to stop it?! Detonate it this high in the atmosphere, and the spores will be carried all over the globe!”

“We must do something!” Breakaway persisted, ignoring the influx of error messages that piled on top of one another in his vision.

A green flash just ahead of them caught their attention, enveloping the missile and causing it to slow. The trio halted and looked upon it in shock.

Skyfall was the first to realize what had happened. “It’s done?”

Vector Prime nodded, his sword pointed at the projectile. After a few short seconds, the rocket’s fuel ran out, and he sent it hurtling towards space, rocketing towards the sun. “It is done.”

-

A resounding crash tore through the air, prompting Brushguard to look up as Overhaul ungracefully collapsed onto the floor of his lab. He rolled his optics. “I’m a bit busy at the moment cousin. Would you mind coming back at a later time?”

The Humvee shook his head, then got to his feet. “Sorry, I’ve got a job to...!” Vines shot from the walls and held him fast, pinning him to one side. “What the...?”

“Another of my successful breeding experiments, thanks in a small part to my current host’s last stand in Tibet.” The botanist turned to his cousin. “Why did you come Overhaul? Can’t stand to be compared to me, to see me whenever you look at your own schematics?” No answer but a growl, and the botanist tutted. “You should be proud; I’ve taken science to untold levels cousin, all thanks to my research. One day, it will be an honor to be compared to me.”

The Autobot narrowed his optics. “Just like Megatron?”

The Decepticon barely glanced at his double. “Megatron allowed for my research to happen, encouraged it. He understood my vision, even if he didn’t always allow me to realize it. One of the troubles of living on a planet without indigenous plant life, no one understands what they’re missing. Now however, I don’t need his approval...though I’d prefer not to have your interference.” A silver and blue light began to build around his body. “I discovered something interesting shortly after I awoke; I’ve a Cyber Key ability, one which allows me to expel acid upon a close target. It is quite powerful; melts through metal in seconds. It may even be quite painless. Farewell Overhaul...”

“...Feeeeeed Meeeeee...Feeeeeed Meeeeee...”

The light faded away as Brushguard sharply turned away from his prisoner, his optics honing in on a large flower nearby and rushing to it quite giddily. He faced it and asked, “Yes? Speak up, come on!”

From the massive bud of the plant, ruby-colored and encrusted with teeth, came a high, tinny voice. “Feeeeeed Meeeeee...Feeeeeed Meeeeee...”

The botanist’s optics widened in joy. As his cousin grew repulsed, Brushguard leaned forward and coaxed it like a mentor would to its sparkling. “You almost have it dear, just one more word. ‘Feed me Brushguard, feed me.’”

“Feeeeeed Meeeeee...Feeeeeed Meeeeee...”

The same vines that held Overhaul now ensnared their master. The botanist watched in shock as his plant’s bud opened wide and enveloped his head. Whatever cries he made, be they in joy or terror, were drowned out as acid seeped into his skull, breaking it down.

Overhaul wanted to shut down his optics and look away. As much as he hated Brushguard, he deserved justice, not irony. However, his options were limited and he didn’t want to become the plant’s next meal. A flash of silver and white light later, and he fired off a burst of energy, damaging the stalk of the plant and tearing an arm loose. He then jabbed his obsidian claws into the wall and tore his remaining limbs free, then transformed and pealed for the door, switching back to his natural mode in order to use his claws. “Talon!”

“Kinda busy Overhaul!” the Harrier snapped as she darted through the air, trying her best to contain her panic and keep her other self from getting loose.

“I got a situation here. I need a cryo-grenade, now!” More vines were slashed as he hastily backed away from the voracious plant still consuming its creator.

“I’ve got a situation here! I need air support, before now!”

The ebon stealth flyer darted and weaved through the air and laughed as he went. “Poor little jet, all scared and alone. Don’t you just wish you had someone who could come out and save you?” His cannon popped up, an orange and silver flash heralding its activation. “Oh well. I heard she’s nice.”

Before the cannon could fire off, Sideways had a large object crash into him head-first, grey and red and blue and black smashing into black and silver and orange and lime and falling into the ground hard. As Talon gave a sigh of relief from above, the herald recovered himself and transformed.

Standing before him was an amalgam of two massive forms, wings on its back supporting twin shoulder pads, arms ending in claws tensed and ready. “Mega-Dinobot,” it said, before it separated into two more familiar components. As his comrades landed and gathered around him, Grimlock drew his Energon sword. “You not only one with fancy tricks. Dinobots, maul him!”

The dinosaur-based Autobots attacked, flames and missiles and laser bolts tearing into their enemy with terrible ferocity. Meanwhile from far above, Talon sighted the hole that her comrade had created, readying twin explosives. “I’ve got something a little different for you Overhaul, just keep clear! It’s gonna be messy!”

“It’s already messy!” The Humvee was now tearing at the vines and ripping them apart as they approached, trying his best to discourage their advance upon him. The COBRA agents who caught sight of him as he did so also noticed the out of control flora and instead ran, giving him at least a little safety. “Just hurry already!”

As he continued his work, the six remaining Mini-Cons aligned with COBRA looked upon him from behind. “What do you know, the little fleshbags were right.” Dirt Rocket turned to his comrades. “What now?”

Broadside transformed, and aimed his turret at the Autobot warrior. “We slag him.”

The familiar sound of a missile being fired from above quickly caught their attention, and the familiar sight of their quarry turning away, transforming and driving right at them prompted them to dive aside as he wheeled around, turned a corner and drove a fair distance. They turned back, wondering what could scare an Autobot warrior.

Talon was many things; young, troubled, a wiz with munitions and weapons...such a combination led to many things, among them creativity. And thinking that she would be facing a lot of plants, she stocked up on the one thing she figured would be most useful against them in an explosive...weed killer.

The bomb exploded as soon as it hit the floor, coating every single thing in the lab with a thin layer of its contents. All plant-based materials within the room began to dissolve and fall apart. Brushguard’s pride and joy, still ingesting its creator even as it begged to be fed, screamed out as the chemical made contact, eating through its body, dissolving its leaves and wearing away at its stem and bulb...until each and every plant exploded.

The violence of the act triggered the lab’s sprinkler system, raining water down upon everything and reducing the exploded remnants of plant to sludge. It slid down the hall, surprising the six Mini-Cons as they watched. What remained of Brushguard washed up with them, partly coated in the gooey remains of his work.

Grindor shook his head disgustedly. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Then let me fix that.”

The six looked in surprise as Overhaul, forgotten in the attack, rear-ended them, crashing them into a wall and knocking each of them unconscious. He transformed, then looked over the remnants of his cousin’s work. He said nothing as the goop began to flow into small drains in the floor, staining the floor green as it went.

-

Nemesis Prime growled as he grabbed at Jazz’s chest, then tossed him away like a rag doll. The Pontiac transformed mid-fall, swerved around, then charged back towards his opponent, transforming and deploying his sword as he counter-attacked.

The herald retaliated, weaving back and striking with his maces. His smaller opponent dodged and fired, prompting him to blast him with his massive cannon, all the while tossing out taunts the Special Ops agent no doubt picked up from the Internet. Twin bursts of energy plowed into the smaller Autobot, washing off on his shield but doing little damage otherwise. Where Nemesis Prime dealt out brute force and left large craters via energy and physical weapons, Jazz’s nimbleness prompted him for hit-and-run tactics with the occasional pot shots.

Nemesis Prime narrowed his optics as the Solstice gave a cheeky and smug grin. “If you truly wish to die, insect, then I will oblige. And once I’ve ripped your body in two, I shall do as I did on Nebulos and on Cybertron, and sap the spark out of you.”

Massive bursts of energy tore into his back, prompting him to turn about. Flying above him, jets firing off from reddened boots and massive blue armor lined with guns on his shoulders and arms, floated Optimus Prime.

“That explains a great deal.” Sand whirled in a miniature storm as the Autobot leader landed. “Stand down Jazz. This monster is mine.”

Nemesis Prime laughed, his of chilliness and darkness that would never see light. “My apologies...but my work here is done.”

Fingers snapped. Even with The Race Team still violently attacking them, the Speed Chasers surged towards him, their armor regenerating as they recombined as the Magnawing Shield, and came to a rest in his free hand.

“To our next meeting Optimus Prime.” The beast faded from view, his greedy black optics the last to disappear. “That one shall be our last.”

The Autobot leader didn’t reply as he disconnected from Wing Saber, catching sight of Sideways throwing off the Dinobots and disappearing. He turned to Jazz. “Still standing old friend?”

“You expect anything else?” He glanced to where his foe had vanished, visor hiding his optics but no less giving the sense of a side glance. “You and ugly have history, huh?”

“It’s a long story.”

Wing Saber quickly stepped up, concern on his face. “Optimus, don’t we still have a job to do?”

-

COBRA Commander practically threw open the door to the aircraft as the secondary hangar opened. As visible as it was, it was pointless to worry about such things now; escape was the main priority. He would recoup later.

A Glock 17 quickly found itself pointed at his face. “And where do you think you are going?”

“Put that gun away Baroness and let me onto that plane!”

“And why should she, Commander?” Destro stepped forward, a FAMAS pointed at his commander. “So that we may flee, and you may lead us once more into folly? We are done; the war is over, and we have lost.”

Beneath his blue hood, his eyes grew red and bloodied upon realizing what was happening. This was unacceptable. “Now is not the time to argue! Let me in, now!”

The hangar roof slid open, exposing them to the sky, just as several large guns found themselves pointed straight at them. The trio looked up just as a commanding voice ordered, “The three of you are going nowhere. Jazz?”

Destro’s rifle, the Baroness’s pistol, and the Commander’s own Walther P99 magnetically shot into the air, landing in the waiting claw of the Autobot special operative, who promptly crushed them into dust. Exactly one second later, the door to the hangar was blown open, the human team and their new Mini-Con allies blocking off another exit.

Optimus Prime looked down upon the three people before him. The Baroness and Destro both remained silent, raising their arms in surrender. The Commander, however, was another matter.

“What are you doing?” He looked at them, then back at the robots, a manic expression in his eyes. “We are COBRA! We cannot be...!”

The familiar sounds of shifting and arranging parts, and Grimlock was once more a Tyrannosaurus Rex, the king of the dinosaurs, massive metal teeth glinting in the sun. He opened his maw wide and let out a bellowing roar, prompting the humans to cover their ears and the Transformers present to turn down their audio receptors with nary a flinch. It wasn’t often the Dinobot leader had the opportunity to pull this sort of stunt on any fleshling and not be reprimanded for it later, and as such, he relished it.

The commander’s mask rippled, his eyes wide in terror. After enjoying the tactic while it lasted, Grimlock rumbled threateningly, “Coward in mask had better shut mouth.”

Much to her credit, Faireborn was not as easily cowed as her targets. She and her troops readied their M4s. “Baroness Anastasia DeCobray, James McCullen XXIV, and whoever the hell you are under that mask...you three are officially under arrest on charges of terrorism and crimes against humanity.”

The commander shook his head, still unable to accept the reality that had finally come crashing down onto him. “It...it can’t end like this...it just...”

Both Destro and the Baroness whirled onto their “leader”. “SHUT IT!”

-

High above, Navy CH-53E Super Stallions flew away from Cobra Island, heading back to their carriers and holding numerous prisoners.

“Destro and the Baroness will be left for others to try, the same as those COBRA operatives from other nations. The Commander may be tried at the Hague, but that isn’t my decision. We have free claim to the rest however...except for the Mini-Cons. They’re all yours.”

Optimus Prime nodded. “We all have clean-up to do from this it seems.”

“It’s not as bad as it could have been however.” Franklin quickly checked things over in his mind. “One American soldier with a broken leg, but otherwise fine. We captured roughly all of COBRA’s soldiers; the few that remain should be rounded up easily enough. And the only missile they fired didn’t even hit its target. You’ve got a little more Energon to use, recaptured three enemy Mini-Con teams and regained the assistance of two more, not to mention finding Breakaway. And if Vector Prime’s to be believed, that missile is on its way to the Sun now. No one will be hurt by it there.”

“A few were still killed Michael.” The Autobot leader cast his optics towards the headless body of Brushguard. The body had turned varying shades of grey, signaling his permanent demise and the human soldiers around the deceased mech certainly looked uncomfortable despite hiding it behind training. “No matter the loss, the rest of us are diminished by it. And there are occasionally worse things than death.”

The colonel nodded. “Mirage told me. Can they be helped?”

“If we were ever to discover how their sparks were taken? Perhaps.” He cast his optics skyward. “But that may be even worse. Still, despite that...I call today a victory.”

-

“I am sorry, Vector Prime. I have failed you.”

The ancient Transformer shook his head at the younger mech while placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “No Breakaway. You were unable to stop them; you have no blame for these acts. And aside from this, you did as instructed and guarded this stockpile. You did well...given the circumstances.” He looked upon the pit, blue light emanating from it softly. “And now, perhaps sooner than expected, your task is done, and this stockpile may return from whence it came.”

“To Cybertron...home.” Breakaway smiled wistfully, despite himself. “It will be good to go home at last.”

“And if you don’t mind us saying...” Overcast stepped forward with Skyfall and Landquake in tow and finished, “...you’ll be more than welcome there.”

-

The doors slid open with a soft hiss, allowing the woman entrance to the spacious hangar provided by MacDill. Hazel eyes were focused solely upon a palm computer as she walked, light brown hair swaying lightly with each footstep. “Simmons, I’ve a busy schedule ahead of me, so kindly...” At last she looked up from her computer, a surprised smile crossing her lips. “Ah.”

“Yvonne Hartman, I presume.” Casually leaning against a table was Diana, the towering forms of the Transformer leaders standing behind her. At one end of the table sat Simmons and Beller, the latter scowling at the archaeologist and the former looking as if he’d rather be somewhere else. At the other sat Franklin and Keller, both silent but clearly displeased. Diana gestured to an empty seat alongside the S7 agent. “Please.”

She pocketed the palm computer. “I hardly see why I’m...”

“You’re the current head of the Torchwood Institute, based in Great Britain and the agency responsible for the strike against the Axalon.” Optimus’s voice was eerily calm. “An unprovoked strike.”

“I’d sit if I were you,” Starscream advised none too gently.

The smile faded from her face, but Hartman took the Decepticon’s advice and hastily took a seat next to Beller. Diana sat in the remaining chair alongside the colonel and secretary and across from the senator as both mechs settled onto the hangar’s floor, then cleared her throat. “As the three of you are well aware, Sector Seven and the Torchwood Institute, agencies of the United States and the United Kingdom, cooperated in a strike against Earth-based Cybertronian forces, the former surrounding Autobase Earth and the latter attacking a Cybertronian ship. These acts are a violation of the Cybertron Accord, something which both countries signed. Care to explain yourselves?”

While the implicated Americans maintained their stony silence, Hartman spoke up. “Well, clearly we overreacted in light of evidence from COBRA’s resurgence. While it’s clear that some Transformers were aiding the organization, not all of them were. For my organization’s actions, I apologize.”

“Why apologize?” Beller’s glare was turned on the Autobot commander. “We have nothing to apologize for.”

The red, white and blue semi ignored the senator’s comment. “Thank you Ms. Hartman. Unfortunately, an apology isn’t going to fix all of our problems.”

“Both S7 and Torchwood acted against orders from their immediate superiors. While no lives were lost on either side, a military operation was almost jeopardized.” Franklin leveled his eyes on the three. “And that cannon of yours is making the rest of us nervous.”

“That cannon is for the defense of Britain against extraterrestrial attack.”

“And what’s stopping it from being used against something terrestrial?” Keller leaned forward, a skeptical eye on the British official with laced hands in front of him. “That thing tore through the shields on a spacecraft whose technology is far superior to our own. I’d hate to see it be used on any satellite, particularly one tied to communications.”

Hartman regained her easy smile. “We wouldn’t use it unprovoked.”

The two Transformers gave one another the briefest of glances. “The cannon aside, we’ve seen your mission statement.” Starscream crossed his arms. “‘If it’s alien, it’s ours,’ if memory serves. Losing that Mini-Con pod you found in Scotland thanks to us probably didn’t sit too well with you.”

Torchwood’s director was taken aback, but only for a moment. “Well, we did have that treaty after all.”

Beller growled at last, and violently stood up. “Enough of this. You know we can hurt you – leave the planet, NOW.”

“Senator, with what little respect is due you at this point...stuff it.” The F-22 leaned forward, his optics narrowed at the senator. “You have issue with us, fine. You blame us for your brother’s death. I know how it feels to lose a sibling, as does Optimus, but that is no excuse for your recent actions. You jeopardized a military operation, and between the three of you, YOU almost sparked an interplanetary incident with your decision. If anything, this demonstrates why we’re so hesitant to share technology with humanity; you could use it against us, or one another.”

“Well, how you supposed to stop that?” Simmons finally spoke up, giving the Decepticon a wary look. “Not like we’re going to go away, and you probably aren’t either.”

“You’re right.” Optimus’s voice indicated a grim smile. “Which is why we’d like to propose a compromise. Sector Seven was established long before any human knew of Cybertronians, and Torchwood before them; both organizations have experience with nonhuman races other than us. And however your organizations have acquired your hardware, you’ve done so.” He leant forward, more so to be on their level to drive in his point.. “Now you need to stop thinking of the defense of your particular corners of the planet, and start thinking of the defense of your world. We can help. ‘By any means necessary’ doesn’t have to mean shooting down spacecraft.”

“The US military has already assisted in the construction of weapons systems to aid the Transformers, and has been working for months to reverse-engineer and utilize wreckage from technologies retrieved thanks to the Transformers. With S7 and Torchwood providing assistance, we could both get what we want.” Franklin side-glanced Beller as he added, “Something like that would require oversight however. They aren’t going anywhere Senator, but you can at least keep an eye upon the ones that are here.”

The senator leaned back in her seat, looking upon the colonel suspiciously. “And I should go with this why?”

Diana cocked an eyebrow. “We could always let the press know about your involvement in the blockade at Longs Peak.”

Beller narrowed her eyes. “Fine. But I’ll only agree to this if you reduce the number of ships you have hanging around on Earth.”

“Easily done. Unknown to us until a few months ago, an ancient Cybertronian vessel has been on Earth since before recorded human history, called Atlantis. It inspired myths about the continent of the same name, and the Transformers who lived upon it may well have inspired others. The few still left have joined the Autobot ranks, and have recently finished repairs. Once the Energon deposit on COBRA Island has been siphoned, Atlantis will return to Cybertron alongside the Hyperion and Flash Frenzy. The Axalon, meanwhile, has been repaired, and will remain in Earth orbit.” Optimus’s optics were affixed upon Hartman and Beller. “However, this is entirely dependant upon you. I’ve no issue with salvaging technology from wreckage or an abandoned craft, but if any attack is made against a Cybertronian ship or any non-aggressive vessel, this agreement will be null and void. The Axalon will leave, Autobase Earth will be decommissioned and stripped, and all non-human technology on Earth will be disabled.” He raised a finger before Hartman could protest. “If humanity wants to go to the stars, fine, but it won’t be as a conqueror. If you want our technology and our assistance, it will be on our terms. Take it or leave it.”

Hartman sighed. “Seems we don’t have much choice. Rather generous of you to not disable the cannon now.”

“Based on what we know, Earth might just need it.” Alarmed eyes looked upon the Autobot leader. “There may be reason in the future for the Axalon to be away from Earth, and as your organizations know, not all aliens are as benevolent as the average Transformer. That cannon, and any other such weapons, is more than capable of defending this planet. And if you accept our agreement, we might even be able to enhance it.”

The S7 agent shook his head, and gave his British counterpart a sideways glance. “You believe this?”

Hartman shrugged. “I don’t think we have much choice.” She turned back to the Transformers and their allies. “I’ll need to speak with my superiors, but I think we can accept that offer.”

Simmons didn’t speak one way or another; one way of getting tech was as good as any. Beller, meanwhile, gave an uneasy nod. She’d play by their rules...for now.

-

Out over the Atlantic waters known as the Bermuda Triangle, the water was disturbed, waves rising and falling rapidly. Within a few short seconds, the golden tip of a tower ascended over the ocean’s surface, further golden surfaces following. Soon, more of the object became visible over the sea, and at last, water streaming from its surfaces and dripping down back into the ocean, it emerged.

Atlantis had arisen again, after tens of thousands of years beneath the waves.

“Engine’s charged and ready, but we can’t make it to Cybertron in one jump.” Hightail looked over the console before him as he made some calculations. “We’ll have to do it in small hops instead; a brief warp, then back to normal space. Should take us about four Earth days.”

Evac gazed upon the various displays, taking one last look upon the planet of his birth. “We’ve waited a lifetime to see Cybertron; we can handle four days easy. Go for it.”

Were there any witnesses, they would not have believed their eyes. Had they blinked, however, they would have missed the ship wink out of existence, space and time warping and twisting around it as it faded away, then simply going back to the way it was.


The End