Cybertronian Civil War part 6: Earth

[7Knight-Wolf]

Part 6: Earth

“What’s the matter?” asked Megatron, his hands folded under his chin in a leisurely manner. “Oh, I suppose I am somewhat of a famous entity. Are you surprised to see me?”

“Megatron!!!” exclaimed Topazor. “Are you one of the terrorists?!”

Megatron laughed. It was his usual short, deep, and extremely mocking laugh. “I may be,” he said shortly. “Right now, I am merely a bot in charge of a small fleet. I am going to meet up with my leaders, who are just outside of earth.”

“Well how convenient; that’s where we’re going too,” Springer said. “Well, Topazor, what should we do? Let this nutcase give us a ride, or fight to the death? I do have a duty as a soldier to bring this kook in, but seein’ as there’s nowhere to bring him to—”

“And seeing as I have you captured in my efficient little flotilla,” added Megatron.

“—Seein’ all that, I say we sit in for the pleasure cruise,” finished Springer.

Chris didn’t talk, but only drew his energon gun. He wanted a fight. Two laser beams shot out from Megatron’s eyes and hit Chris’s gun, sending it flying across the room. “I have made some improvements,” Megatron said coolly.

“I liked the dragon better,” Springer put in.

Megatron signaled for some of the flotilla guards. “Take the wisecracking green hardhead and the—uh, fleshy thing to the cells,” he ordered. “Leave this beastie with me.”

The guards wordlessly obeyed and left Topazor alone with the scheming rebel.

“You’re the only one of this flimflamming crew who seems capable of proper negotiation,” Megatron said.

Topazor stood still, awkward and very suspicious. “You won’t take me off my guard. Just tell me what you want.”

“Very smooth. First of all, the idea of letting your friends decide what to do with themselves is an intolerable one. I shall decide for them. All three of you are to accompany me to earth. You will help my commander and I with our plans, which involves your sense and your friends’ piloting skills.”

“We won’t do it.”

Megatron said nothing to that adamant remark, but continued casually, “your friends are being interrogated as we speak. I want to find out who they are, particularly the human. I saw his coding device when he came in. It was a DR-C 01, a rare coding machine of which there are only two remaining. They contain some handy codes from ancient Cybertron. Very useful indeed.”

Topazor looked up in surprise, his big golden optics full of surprise and abhorrence. “You can’t take those codes!” he said. “They could be really important!”

Megatron chuckled. “Your response just gave away some useful information. Had you not cared about the codes, I would know that the device was counterfeit. I thought diplomatic people such as yourself would know to watch your mouth.”

Topazor felt humiliated by his loose tongue, but he soon shook off the shame. “What do you mean, diplomatic?” asked the wolf-bot.

“I know who you are: Topazor, former spokesman of the Department of Cybertron Security. Very big on politics and diplomacy, correct?” Megatron smiled. “Now think about this: what do you have left? What do your friends have? Absolutely nothing, besides that coding machine, and due to its age it won’t fetch a good price anymore. If we team up working for my master, the codes will do us both good, and your friends would be given sufficient energy, power, and the promise of safety. There is safety in numbers.”

“I still won’t join you,” said Topazor slowly, “but I do require an explanation for some of what you have said. According to my father’s words and the history archives, the behavior you are exhibiting is nothing like Megatron’s. You speak so well of your new commander, whoever he may be. But the old Megatron could not boast of trust and obedience.”

“Perhaps,” said Megatron, leaning forward, “I just happened to find somebody worthy of trust.”

“But you want to rule the universe,” argued Topazor hotly. “That’s cliché, but it’s true! At any rate that was your previous goal. Power-hungry, selfish tyrants like you can never willingly trust!”

Megatron waved his hand indifferently, as if swishing aside Topazor’s impassioned statement. “Do not question my personal intentions,” he said flatly. “Think about what I have offered you. You have no other place to go.”

Topazor bit back a reply. He couldn’t tell Megatron that he was going to Earth to find Cheetor. Nor could Megatron discover that Cheetor knew who had destroyed Cybertropilas and the other cities. There was only one option right now: pretend to join Megatron, and escape as soon as they were close to earth. Not only could he join Megatron, he could control one of the flotilla ships!

“You have not offered me nearly enough,” the wolf-bot said. “I’d sooner die than sweep your corridors, operating on low energon reserves all day. With my weapons taken away, too! I need defense, and I need position. Let me work alongside you. Otherwise you can just kill me.”

“That I may,” Megatron chuckled. “But what if I decided to do the same to your friends? And take all the human’s codes while I’m at it?”

Topazor snarled. “Don’t you dare! Fine then, I don’t have to work right with you. I’ll settle for complete charge of the smallest ship.”

“It’s a deal,” agreed Megatron. “I’ll dismiss the current pilot of ship number 0.3. And I’ll let your comrades help you pilot.”

Within an hour the former pilot of 0.3 was denied his post. He argued with the new order, and was killed for questioning orders. The dead bot’s spare parts and energon backup program were given to Megatron so he could further improve his form. This, Topazor felt, was as bad as cannibalism.

“Now,” thought the tall wolf-bot as he strode on his long, narrow feet down the halls, “I wonder who is Megatron’s ‘master’? And is this a fleet terrorists, or just survivalists? They’re certainly not Maximal Reformists or government. Not there is government anymore. Well, I should almost be near the cell quarters, and I’ll pick up Chris and Springer. Oh the joy of dealing with Big Green again.”

As he walked, Topazor saw a fellow maximal. “You work here?” asked the wolf-bot.

“Yes indeed, Sir,” answered the maximal. “I had to keep myself alive. I see you are a maximal too. What news of the war?”

“The war?” reiterated Topazor in confusion. “What war?”

The other maximal laughed. “You know, the war on Cybertron? The Civil War!”

“I didn’t know it was an all-out war yet.”

“Oh yes, Empress Airsweep is leading the military against the Maximal Reformists and Predacon Rebels. She thinks that they are behind the recent city demolitions. I say let her think what she wants and whether or not she’s right, at least we’ll get a little order.”

“Slow down!” exclaimed Topazor in astonishment. “Vice-president Airsweep? An empress?!”

“She made herself empress, but nobody’s really complaining. Let me guess, you’re gonna ask who the Maximal Reformists are?”

“I know them,” answered Topazor. “They took the Dome. But when did the groups of Rebels become Predacon?”

“When the predacons killed the rebel leaders. Now it’s government vs. predacon vs. maximals. Any more questions, pilot?”

“Just one,” answered the overwhelmed Topazor. “Where are Springer and Chris?”

The maximal typed a code into a wall computer, and a cell door opened up. Springer came stumbling out, his blue optics ablaze with fury. But he seemed almost too weak to walk.

“Springer, what’s wrong?” asked Topazor in concern.

“Well these sons of decepticons think it’s funny to take away seventy percent of my energon reserves. They thought if I had full strength, I’d attack them. And they’re straight right!” Springer’s voice rang with wrath. “So what have you been doin’, eh Tope? Been plotting with Meg-head? Been ensuring yourself power and energy while we get THIS?!”

“What are talking about?” Topazor said.

“You’re a pilot!” shouted Springer. “And don’t pretend you’re not! You betrayed us, you decepticon scrap processor! Didn’t think you were this low, didn’t think you were such a bad boy under all that chivalry scrap!!!” Springer threw a slab of metal at Topazor, but the wolf-bot caught it and was not hurt.

The guard pushed Springer back into the cell and re-shut the door. “We can’t let him help you when he’s like this.”

“This is terrible,” muttered Topazor. The guard’s words didn’t seem to mean much right now—Topazor was too shocked with Springer’s outburst to listen. What the wolf-bot had done truly made him look like a traitor. “What about Chris?” he murmured.

“The human has been questioned concerning the whereabouts of the DRC 02 coding device. Megatron said that the human had the device, but we can’t find it on him and he doesn’t even know what we’re talking about.”

“I need his help piloting,” stated Topazor.

“Very well,” agreed the guard.

Soon Topazor and Chris were alone in the control room of the 0.3 ship. Topazor paced back and forth, still wordlessly clutching the slab of metal Springer had hatefully thrown. Chris was doing most of the piloting right now.

“Where’s the coding device?” asked Topazor suddenly.

“Coding device?” Chris snapped. “Why does everybody think I have it?”

“Because you do,” groaned Topazor in annoyance. “And I don’t understand why you’re lying.” But the wolf-bot could get no more out of Chris.

****
Most of the ship’s crew was sleeping, except for Chris and the worker bot that was helping him pilot. Topazor was resting in his new quarters, feeling terribly guilty. He was using the slab of metal as a headrest. At last giving up his attempt to sleep, the maximal sat up. Angrily, he grabbed the slab of metal and threw it across the room where it broke against the wall.

Then suddenly Topazor realized the truth.

There lay the metal, broken in two pieces. One piece looked like smooth hypersteel, a façade designed to cover up the front of the other piece, like a shield. And the other piece—it was not sooth metal but a device with buttons, outlets, and three little symbols—DR-C.

The coding machine!

Topazor felt so stupid! Now he understood everything. Springer was not really angry; he just had to act so he could throw the coding device at Topazor! That way, Megatron wouldn’t get it. And, supposed Topazor, Chris had to lie about the machine lest anybody heard him talking about it.

Which reminded Topazor—Megatron probably had bugs and secret cameras everywhere. Quickly, the wolf-bot stashed away the DR-C and went to sleep. Tomorrow, they would reach earth and escape from Megatron.

****
Earth was in sight! Topazor left the piloting to the worker bots, and went to find Chris. When the wolf-bot found him, Chris was talking to another robot. There was a dangerous and sort of alarmed expression on Chris’ drawn face and in his grey eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the human told the robot. “I’ve never seen you before.”

The other bot saw Topazor coming, saluted, and walked away. “What was that about?” asked Topazor.

Chris muttered in reply, “I know some of these bots; we used to work together selling weaponry. I don’t want them to recognize me, though—I’m a deserter, remember?”

“Bots from weapon dealing companies?” asked Topazor. A gleam of hope entered his optics. “Do you think Miratron is here?”

“I dunno,” shrugged Chris. “Anyway, let’s get Springer out of the cell and the three of us can talk about what to do now.”

Topazor and Chris tromped into the cell, dismissed the guard, and had a word with Springer before ordering his release.

“There aren’t any cameras in here,” Chris observed, flashing his sharp eyes around the room.

“Springer, listen to me,” Topazor told the soldier quickly.

“Wait, guys—” began Springer.

“No time for interruptions,” the wolf-bot hurried. “We’re very close to earth. When Megatron orders the fleet to stop, we’ll send the frequencies saying that we will obey. We won’t, of course. The frequencies will just puzzle them long enough for us to put this thing into gear and head for earth. Then—”

“No, listen to me,” Springer tried again.

Topazor did not pay hi any heed. “On Earth we’ll find Cheetor, who can no doubt tell us who the terrorists are. Maybe he even knows the whereabouts of Miratron. By the way, the way you gave me the coding device was quite clever.”

“GUYS!!!” shouted Springer. This time he managed to get their attention. “There’s a guard hiding in the cell next to mine! He’s heard everything!”

Immediately Chris reached for his energon gun, but remembered that he had been disarmed. Springer too was powerless. “Beast mode!” cried Topazor, and as the eavesdropping robot ran for the door, he found himself pounced on by a blue winged wolf. The little robot squirmed away from Topazor and ran down the hall, but his short legs were no match for Topazor the wolf. The guard quickly turned down another corridor, around a corner too sharp for Topazor. The wolf skidded on the floor, tripped, and slammed against the wall.

Meanwhile the adversary transformed, becoming a large blaster, which was caught by a second bot who happened to be patrolling the corridor. He was a heavily armored black-and white patroller bot, with a god hand at the blaster, Topazor observed as he dodged the enemy fire. Suddenly Topazor was joined by Springer, who rampaged right into the wall, barely avoiding the well-aimed blaster shots. Topazor followed, using Springer’s burly form to hide behind, until he was very close to the foebots. Springer whacked the patroller with a formidable punch, and the patroller, reeling backwards, fired just over Springer’s head.

“You fool,” said the robot blaster. “Stop fighting; I need to report to fleet commander!”

Just then Topazor darted out from behind Springer and knocked over the patroller. The blaster-bot went flying out of his grasp, breaking through one of the ship’s windows.

Springer and Topazor looked out the window, and saw the blaster fall toward Megatron’s ship right beneath them. But they only saw it for half a second before it fired up at them. Topazor and Springer dodged.

Springer took a gun from the wounded patroller and shot down at the blaster-bot. “It’s too late,” he grunted; “the bot’s back in robot mode with his jets on.”

“He’s going straight for Megatron,” Topazor stated grimly. He transformed back into robot mode. “Come, we don’t have much time.”

Back in the control room, they found Chris already answering the questioning frequencies from Megatron’s ship. “That’s no good now; let’s just go,” roared Springer, jumping into the pilot’s seat. “It’s my turn.”

The ship took off at breakneck speed down into the atmosphere of earth.

“Springer, they’re following us!” shouted Chris.

Springer stopped the ship so suddenly that it jerked Chris out of his seat and made Topazor lose his balance. Springer whirled the ship around to face the fleet and vigorously punched the buttons which fired the ship’s gun. “Rapid fire!” shouted Springer.

“What are you doing?” cried Topazor in alarm. “We can’t fight six ships! Besides, this is the smallest one!”

“But it’s also the fastest and best for quick maneuvers,” Chris said, catching onto Springer’s idea. “We’ll confuse them, fly fast, spin, stop, fire, and fly again. It will buy us enough time to get into those clouds where we won’t be easy targets.”

“Well then get to it,” said Topazor gruffly; “I’ve got other problems! The bots on this ship are coming to kill us! They must have got word from Megatron about our plan.” Topazor closed the heavy door to the control room, leaving only a little weapon-hole open. Through this he thrust a gun and did his best to take down the approaching enemies. It was hard for him, such a peace-loving bot, to shoot down anybody.

“We did it!” shouted Chris suddenly. “We’ve got clouds around us now; more cover! Hit top speed and fly!”

“Uh-oh,” said Springer ominously. “The fuel is running out! We can’t go any faster. We’re—ugn!”

The soldier’s words were broken off as the ship’s left wing and boosters were shot out by the approaching flotilla.

“What now?! We’re hit!” shouted Chris.

Topazor shut the weapon hole of the door, and said, “The ship staff is down. Open the hatch and we’ll jump down onto that upcoming mountain. Set the ship on auto-pilot so it’ll look like we’re still trying to escape and throw off the fleet.”

“Done,” said Springer. He preferred to rip open the hatch with his own hands than wait for the ship computer to do it. “Here goes nothing; we’re al going to be scrap!” shouted Springer. He jumped out the hatch.

“Hold onto me, Chris,” said Topazor.

“I can do it myself,” Chris snapped, and pushed Topazor roughly out the hatch. Chris then jumped after him.

Then it was sky and cold air and hard rocks, and they remembered no more.

When Chris woke up he found himself in a patch of hard, coarse bushes. He guessed that this plant life had broken his fall. He was on a rusty-brown ledge, and below him was several hundred feet of brushy cliff and canyon. Nearby, Springer and Topazor lay. They slowly flickered open their optics.

“Why am I in beast mode?” wondered Topazor. “And Springer, you look pretty sizzled.”

“In this area of Earth,” said Chris, “it rumored that raw energon is still hidden. It’s very possible, and Topazor, your automatic transformation to beast mode and Springer’s poor resistance to energy buildup proves the rumor true.”

“And what is this area of Earth?” asked Topazor.

“If I’m not mistaken,” rejoined Chris, shading his eyes and looking at the landscape, “we’re in Australia. Now that’s what I call a strange coincidence.”

“Well G’morning to all, mates! Kangaroo casserole, anyone?” Springer joked.

“Why is it such a coincidence that we end up in Australia?” asked Topazor. “Are you afraid of meeting someone you know, Chris? It’s your brother, isn’t it? You said he lived in a rural hole somewhere.”

“He lives here,” answered Chris. “But I’m not afraid of meeting him. I just don’t want him to have to go through the disappointment all over again.”

“Disappointment?”

“Me,” said Chris grimly.

“Hey, look there!” exclaimed Springer. “In those bushes!”

There was indeed something in the bushes. It looked like an animal of some sort, dark, with a swishing tail and fiery eyes. Then it seemed to vanish. Suddenly a tall, well-built warrior-bot appeared on the ledge right above Springer. He drew a blaster.

“Run!” shouted Topazor. “It must be a spy from Megatron!”

Desperately, the threesome scrambled down from the ledge and onto a precarious canyon road. They ran, dodging gunfire, hopelessly unarmed and their strength giving out. Hope began to slip through their fingers. How could they escape from this spy? He was the fastest bot they had ever seen!

“We can’t give up!” shouted Topazor, running for all he was worth. We have to find Cheetor! We have to help Cybertron!”

Then the warrior-bot tackled him from above. In a moment the swift bot had kicked Springer and Topazor onto their faces, and held Chris at gunpoint. The glare of the sun was such that the human, the soldier, and Topazor could not clearly see their mysterious stalker.

“You’re looking for Cheetor?” asked the bot.

“We need him,” gasped Topazor, out of breath. “He’s a secret agent who could help us with the war on Cybertron. Cheetor knows a lot of information about terrorists, so we want to ask him about it. Chris said that he and Cheetor were kicked out from some weapon sellers, so Cheetor had to go someplace. We know he loves Earth, so we’re searching for him here.”

The warrior bot laughed long and heartily at this story. Then he put his gun away and stepped away from the glare of the sun. Topazor stared up at him for a minute or two. Then realized something: this bot looked familiar. He had been shown in the history archives as a great hero. It was Cheetor! An older Cheetor of course, with his Transmetal 2 form slightly altered. His flaming red eyes were more solemn now, the flame was under control; his face was thinner and grimmer. He had a short goatee and the metal and the organic fur on various parts of his body had grown. His armor plating had dimmed over the years, beginning to show age.

“What up?” he asked. His voice was deeper and smoother, but still had a bit of a rasp.

“Sir!” exclaimed Topazor. “It is a great honor to meet such a famous hero.”

Cheetor passed his claws over his brow wearily. “Thanks, but now I’ve got a lot of explaining to do. First of all, I heard what the human said about ending up in Australia. It was no coincidence. Actually, you guys ended up on a distant island, but I’d been hanging out here with Chris’ older brother and picked up signs of other robotic life-forms. So I went out, found you, and brought you back here in a day’s time.” Cheetor’s face grew deadly serious. “But a lot can happen in a day.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Springer, brushing the dust off himself. “What happened?”

“Invaders happened,” replied Cheetor. He clenched his fingers—or claws—into a fist and growled lowly. ”I ran by Sydney, the capital of Australia, and found a small ship of Cybertronians attacking. Sydney’s computers were getting messages from other major countries talking about aliens and robots. A good deal of humans know about Cybertron, but they had no idea about invaders. Neither did I. So listen, you guys are coming with me to the nearest town and you’re gonna tell me and the people what is wrong with Cybertron.”

“Excuse me sir, don’t you know what’s wrong?” asked Topazor in puzzlement. “There’s a civil war going on. Weren’t you up there? Didn’t you get kicked out of the weapon-seller’s group?”

“Oh, on that subject,” said Cheetor flatly, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

There was a long silence of bewilderment. Springer shook his head.

“You’re not a secret agent?” asked Chris.

“Of course not,” said Cheetor. “I live down here on earth, protecting the people and helping them build spaceships. But most of my time is spent traveling Earth and…generally having fun.”

Chris creased his brow, taken aback. “There must be some mistake. I heard that the secret agent was the last surviving member of the Axalon’s crew. Cheetor, you’re supposed to be the last survivor. Aren’t you?”

“You know,” said Cheetor, turning his gaze up at the sky, “It’s really hot out here. Why don’t we go to town and meet the local folk? We can all get rested.”

“I knew it!” exclaimed Springer happily. “I knew Cheetor was sane somewhere deep down! Yeah, take us to the shade and the grub, bub!”

Cheetor transformed into beast mode, and walked swiftly along his long, quiet cat claws. Chris and the bots followed. Cheetor was silent, and Topazor guessed that he would keep silent until they reached the town.

[Blazemane]

Very interesting. Topazor does actually have the markings of a potential warrior...

Desperately, the threesome scrambled down from the ledge and onto a precarious canyon road. They ran, dodging gunfire, hopelessly unarmed and their strength giving out. Hope began to slip through their fingers.

I was starting to get sad...

How could they escape from this spy? He was the fastest bot they had ever seen!

And then it hit me!

Anyways, nice job.

[7Knight-Wolf]

Anyways, nice job.

Thanks!