- Runner up for Best Overall Fan Fic '03

Beast Wars Revival: Moral Disturbances

Author’s note: Okay, this is my first attempt to create my own series, three years in the making. This is the first story in it. The original characters and the Beast Wars belong to Mainframe Entertainment, Hasbro, and probably a whole lot of other people I don’t know of. Please no suing!! I found a nickel the other day, that’s all I have! All the other characters are my creations; please ask if you want to use them. I would like to thank my friends Nurannoniel T.I.M.E. for helping me with the title, and Sabrewolf for the helping me on the plotline. This is part of your work too, Wolfie! Also thanks to Mick Willette for proofreading this. I couldn’t have done it without any one of you. Well, here we go!

Prologue:

Cybertron, twenty-five stellarcycles after the Beast Machines

Peace had been restored to the Transformer world. Optimus Primal succeeded in his battle against Megatron. Cybertron was now rich and beautiful, a mixture of machine and organic life. Its buildings had been rebuilt. Its people walked the streets once more. A new chapter had begun on Cybertron, and their stellarcycles are now called AC, After Cleansing, which referred to how evil was banished to the Matrix forever.

The Transformers on Cybertron enjoy the peace, sometimes forgetting how it was achieved and taking it for granted.

There are some that will never forget.

Optimus’ friends: Cheetor, Black Arachnia, Silverbolt, Rattrap and Nightscream; remember with fondness their friend and how he sought to restore justice on Cybertron.

There are some that remember with hatred.

Sabrewolf, the sword-wielding warrior from the Beast Wars and loyal soldier from the Beast Machines still lives, as a spark. A robot soul with no physical form. Only his mind. He exists trapped inside a jar of a prison. Literally. He cannot escape without help. He believes he is the only survivor of the Beast Machines, and his fate lies to be always imprisoned.

He is wrong.

Because he has a friend-- very old friend. Among the Predacons, a non-descript lowly soldier has risen to the high rank of Aerial Commander, and has acted very loyal to her superiors.

So far.

Because she has plans, and friends of her own.

On Predacon Outpost 35.6, base closest to Cybertron

Two robots meet in a dark corridor, lit only by a small shaft of light from a partially open door.

“Did you get it?” asked one eagerly, his dull red optics flashing with excitement. “Oh, I can’t wait to see what it says!”

“Be quiet, you fool!” scolded the other. “Do you want the whole base to hear?! Cool your jets, I have it.”

The time to strike is near. Be patient. All is going according to my plan. Group Alpha is stationed and ready for their part. You, Group Beta, must be prepared to act on their signal. The prisoner must be liberated quickly and discreetly amidst the confusion. You two are best fit for this function. You have no reason to fail me.”

“Oh, I won’t, Commander!” Blurted the loud Predacon. The second kicked him.

“Group Gamma has planted the mines as a distraction when they move in to steal the Maximal relic. I will be with Group Delta, ready to give backup to any that need it if they are pursued. We have my Predacon ship, ready to depart at 1600 megacycles. Do not be late. This cannot be stalled due to incompetence. Peace has been too long for my liking. We Predacons must rise up and conquer the Maximals. The time is long overdue. The time is now.”

The robot who had read the orders closed the thin message receiver and turned to the other.

“Yeah, I know!” The Predacon’s optics twinkled mischievously. “I can’t wait!”

The first sighed. “You’re a nut, you know that? It’s amazing Commander thinks you can do anything discreetly.”

Cybertron, Spaceport 4

The short robot nodded. “Yep, you’ll have fun too, hangin’ wit’ da top crew.”

Rattrap shook his head. “Naw. I’ve had my fill of adventure in space. I’ll stay here on good ol’ mummy Cybertron.”

“You’ll do fine!” Rattrap patted the small jet black and smoke grey robot’s back. “Go on now, Bro. Ya got ta get ready for departure. You’re leavin’ within da hour.”

“Okay…….. I guess this is g’bye then, huh?” BanditOne hugged his older brother tight. “I’ll miss you, Rattrap.”

“Yeah, an’ me you. I’m proud of you, Bro. Goin’ off on yer own. Just stay outta trouble, okay?”

The brothers let go. BanditOne gave a crooked grin to hide his growing fear. He was leaving Cybertron for the first time.

Rattrap turned away, chuckling. BanditOne always got into trouble, whether he wanted to or not. It followed him like a lost puppy. Rattrap laughed. It ran in the family. He headed for the main observation tower so he could watch the Astral launch. On his way he passed by a black Predacon ship. His merriment disappeared.

“Hmph. Now that’s enough ta ruin anyone’s day. Predacons. I still don’t trust ‘em. Never have, never will.” He frowned. “’Cept ol’ Chopperface. I guess I miss him…. the overgrown lizard. But these Preds, who knows what they’re plannin’ ta do. Nothin’ but treachery, I can tell ya that.”

“Da Darkside II, eh? Oh THAT’S just peachy.” Rattrap shuddered. “Megs’ ship come back. Da nut Pred who named dis probably has no idea.”

The small Maximal jumped at the sudden call, snapping him from gloomy memories. Cheetor strolled up beside him.

"Nothing, except you might want to hurry over to the observation tower. The Astral’s going to be launching within a few minutes.” The tall robot followed his friend’s gaze to the Predacon vessel.

“Don’t, Cheetor. Don’t try an’ remember. You’re better off not knowing.” Rattrap’s mind slipped back into the past, flashing brief moments of the Beast Wars. Memories etched into his mind. He would never forget them. Ever.

Just as the words left his mouth, a platform lowered itself from the bottom of the ship and two Predacons stepped off, deep in conversation.

“And everything is set for tomorrow?” asked a small purple and silver femme.

“Yes, Commander. Things go as you wish,” answered the other, a powerfully built dark red and green mech. He looked almost ridiculous talking to his small leader. But she was obviously in charge.

“Hey!” Rattrap immediately became defensive. “We’re just mindin’ our own business, Predacon. Why don’t you just mind yours?”

“Watch your tongue, vermin.” She growled. “It would not be in your best interest to make me angry.”

“Rattrap, please!” Cheetor interrupted his friend who was about to pounce on the Predacon. “Calm down. It’s okay. We have to leave now.” He nodded to the Predacons. “You should move too. A ship not far down the way is launching soon.”

The Commander shrugged. “Alright. C’mon, Spitfire.” She began leading her soldier away.

“Answer me this, Pred. Why is your ship named after Megatron’s from the Beast Wars? And how do you know to call me ‘vermin’?”

Rattrap flinched visibly. He still was from the Beast Machines. How could he forget? Straightening up to salvage his pride, he glared at her.

“Silence, you fool!” She snapped. “Let’s go. The company around here is making me ill.”

“Ya know what?” asked Rattrap in a voice just loud enough to be heard by the Predacons, “I think dat femme was lying. Preds. Ya just can’t trust ‘em.”

Commander Starath and her soldier Spitfire watched the Maximals go. Rattrap’s last words reached their audios.

“Why didn’t you say that you picked out the ship’s name?” asked Spitfire. “What was wrong with that?”

Starath glanced at him. “Are you questioning my reasons?” she demanded sharply.

He jumped back. “No! No, I was…. just wondering. Did you know that puny Maximal too?”

“You could say that.” Commander Starath laughed softly. “But that is none of your concern, my friend. Let’s go.” With that she walked off the launch pad. Spitfire obediently followed in silence.

Some say Starath is the nicest Predacon one could meet. Others say she is the nastiest. Still others say she is the most dangerous. However, nobot would argue she is the strongest in power and will. Nothing gets in her way. If there is not a path she makes one. She came out of nowhere a stellarcycle ago, and rose through the Predacon ranks swiftly and easily—as if she’d done it all before. She could devise battle strategies. Control soldiers. Defend herself in battle. Win against any enemy. Such talent was looked upon highly in the Predacon ranks.

When she appeared in training camp the first day the Predacon instructor couldn’t believe his optics. The small femme wanted to be a soldier. How could she possibly be? She hardly looked soldier material. She was lightly built for being a flyer and had a good slender form for a femme. Her only weapons were a laser sword and a handheld blaster. The other trainees laughed at her as she stepped onto the stadium floor for her first battle. The instructor paired her up with a blue and yellow mech twice her size. He was one of the class’ best fighters. Starath was told she had to beat him in order to get into training. It was her “entry exam”, as the instructor put it. The others could hardly contain their laughter. This “entry exam” would surely take her out!

Wrencher was Starath’s opponent, a very powerful, well skilled fighter. He almost felt sorry for the small female who had to fight him. But still he never turned down the chance to crush someone, no matter how insignificant. His instructor called from the stands of the arena:

Everyone watched with interested amusement as Starath reached behind her. She pulled out a golden sword hilt. A light glowing green beam flashed out and became the blade. It resembled a captured flame imbedded in the gold hilt. Her bright blue optics gazed at Wrencher, and a slow smile crossed her face. He laughed at her.

“So you’re not afraid of me, eh? Well, I’ll soon teach you better. You’ll die with that smile on your face.”

Wrencher pulled his own sword out, a curved wicked object of cold steel. They circled one another, silently challenging the other to attack first.

He didn’t see the blade coming until it was inches from his face. With a thrust he blocked it. He blinked. The green blade was gone. Spinning around, he searched for Starath. She was nowhere. But not quite….

Wrencher narrowly dodged the green blade as it sliced through the air to the ground. With a shout he brought his sword around in an arc to sever Starath as she came down. He hit nothing.

But nobody was! Nobody! Wrencher had strength and speed. He could not be beaten. EVER! He focused on his enemy, standing only a few feet ahead. She still wore her smile, silently mocking him.

Their swords met with a brilliant flash of light and a horrendous crash. Wrencher pressed with all his might against his blade, forcing Starath down. She resisted.

Wrencher stared at his opponent with a mixture of fear and wonder. How could this small femme….? He blinked and looked again. She looked different! Not…. Not small at all! The changes were slight, but hardly insignificant. An insane flicker flashed through her optics. Her slender body looked strong. And confident. Its light frame was gone, replaced by a muscular one. No longer the small weak femme from the beginning of the match……… Someone else!

With a shocked yell Wrencher spun around. Effortlessly Starath avoided his blade. She landed softly to one side and studied her startled enemy. This was just as she remembered it-- the rush of battle. He’s scared out his mind…. I love this part ! Heh. This is as much fun as I remember, so many stellarcycles ago… I should have warned him about his inevitable defeat…. That and appearances can be deceiving. I hide my strength, no one expects a femme to be so powerful…. I haven’t gone through two wars without learning that myself. It’s SO much more fun to mess with people that way….. YES! Finally, here he comes!

Sparks flew from their swords’ impact. With a roar Wrencher swung up and down, left and right in huge paths to slash his enemy. Starath dodged and weaved through the air, staying clear of his blade. Then she became bored. Is this all he can do? Sheesh, this is no fun……

With one thrust Starath ripped Wrencher’s sword from his hands. He stared at them in disbelief. His gaze fell on his enemy. He had been defeated.

“I can’t…..” He stiffened and held onto his honor. “Go ahead then, finish me.”

Starath shook her head. “No, I have disarmed you. That is enough. For you have your honor to offer your life; I have mine to spare it.”

Spitfire followed his Commander into a large warehouse where they were meeting a friend. Sometimes he wondered how she had so many connections to so many people. But Starath was like that. She kept many secrets. He had known her for only a few months, since the day she saved him from certain death. Spitfire owed his life to her, and swore to always be by her side. But despite his curiosity her secrets meant nothing to him. Only her safety.

A heavily built dull bronze robot with hints of a black vehicle mode and green optics met them in the warehouse.

He nervously nodded. “Yes. We’ll need luck on our side though, lots of it.”

“Maybe. But I hope not. I have too much riding on incompetence for this plan to work.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” said Commander Starath with a heavy sigh, “That’s why I have allies to help them if things go awry. Sometimes my comrades are too predictable. I have to be ready. Either way, we’ll be off this Maximal-infested rock by tomorrow.”

“We’re running behind, Spitfire. We’ve still got a lot to do before sunrise. It’s time we left.”

“Of course.” He began to follow her out of the warehouse. Just as they stepped outside Bruiser stopped them.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you your shipments arrived today. They’ll be loaded in your ship soon.”

Her blue optic gleamed. “Yess… Be very careful with them. They cannot be damaged. I went through a lot of trouble to get them.”

A dull roar filled the air. The Predacons looked up to see the Maximal ship Astral launch into black space.

1430 Megacycles, at the Maximum Security Prison on Maximal Outpost 13, the next day...

“It’s going to be a long night,” said the yellow Maximal, marking him as a long-time worker at the Maximum Security Prison. “Are you sure you’re up for it, newbie?”

“This’ll be your first time down at section X, won’t it Digger? Heh, just don’t get scared!”

The two Security Bots rounded the corner and strolled down a dark hallway side by side.

“Hey, rumor is General Skyhawk is here to check on this facility. Last time he was here he said this was the best prison he’d been to,” said Vapour proudly, nudging his comrade. “All b’cause of guards like us. Ah! A matter o’ fact, that’s him there.”

Digger looked up from the floor. He was so bored he’d been counting the tiles.

“Yep. He’s one our most elite warriors. If we ever go to war with the Preds again, they’d have to face him. I hope they don’t though, for their sake.”

General Skyhawk’s powerfully built gold and deep red frame held an aire of respect and pride. He was talking to the Maximum Security Prison’s Director when two Security Bots approached them. He greeted them with a booming voice.

“Well, who do have here? Two Bots doing their rounds for the day? And I see we have a new recruit, fresh from the training school.” He nodded at the blue Maximal.

“Good, good! We need more young ‘uns like you in a place like this. To keep things safe and in line, you know. Yes, this is the best security prison there is, nothing better. We have to be, with the criminals we house here. Especially the Prize Prisoner.”

General Skyhawk raised an optical ridge. “You two be careful in there, you hear me? There’s been strange going-ons recently.”

“Lights going on and off. Alarms being tripped, all in Section X. Watch your backs and do your jobs thoroughly, alright boys?”

To get to Section X the two Security Bots had to pass a long hallway lined with prison cells. The last one contained two Predacons, new arrivals to the prison. One was silver, sitting in the corner playing a harmonica, the other was bronze with dull red optics. He watched the Security Bots, a smirk spreading across his face.

Digger stopped to glare at the Predacon. “Better to be a ‘goody-goodie’ than rusting like you in that cell. Or playing that horrible music. What’re you trying to do? Talk to the Prize Prisoner down the way?”

“How do you know that?” the silver Predacon stopped playing his instrument and stood up. “How do you know?” he repeated.

The blue Security Bot slammed his fist on the barred door, making the Predacons jump.

“Shuddup, you stinking Pred! I’d watch my mouth if I were you! You know NOTHING!”

Vapour stepped up beside Digger. “My partner’s got more brains than you two’ll ever have.” He snapped. “And don’t go thinkin’ you’ll bust outta here. No one’s ever gotten out of this place. Ever.”

The bronze robot’s smile disappeared. “There’s always a first time for everything, Maximal.”

Near the Prize Prisoner’s holding area a security had to routinely checked to monitor the status of the Prison’s systems. As they walked into the room, Vapour shivered.

“I hate this place. It’s so near the spark of the Prize Prisoner! I can’t help getting the creeps……”

Digger glanced at him before stepping up to the computer. Cybertronian characters from the screen reflected off of his face.

“Oh be quiet. You’re the one who told me there’s nothing to be afraid of. He’s just a spark, he can’t hurt you.” He started typing at the computer, soft clicks echoing through the silent room.

“Oh, okay.” Vapour sighed heavily. Maybe this newbie could get things done faster than him so they could get out of here.

ACKNOWLEDGED]

Vapour lazily stared into space, grateful someone else was doing the check. It was so boring. He spotted what Digger had typed in.

“What are you doing??” He shouted, reaching for his weapon. “Are you crazy? Stop now or I’ll—“ Suddenly he was staring down a gun barrel.

“This gun has energon bullets and a silencer so no one will ever know it was fired. Shut your mouth or I will destroy you,” warned the undercover Predacon.

Vapour’s nervous hand let his gun drop. As the Maximal gulped, a low, barely audible

laugh filled the room. Digger turned back to the computer, still aiming at the frightened Security Bot.

ACKNOWLEGDED]

Red lights began flashing in the prison, giving everything an eerie glow. The Predacon turned to the Maximal with triumph in his sharp grey optics.

“It is done.” He announced. “And I’m sorry, but I have to leave you now.”

There was no sound except for the heavy body falling onto the ground, terminated.

Digger met his bronze comrade outside Sabrewolf’s cell. The cell’s energy bars were gone, and a forbidding darkness lay inside, barely lit by a faint pulsing light. The glow steadily came closer to the cell door.

“Raze is getting him now!” Hysterical said excitedly. “Ah ha! Here he comes!”

Both Predacons jumped aside as the small silver robot burst out with a glowing canister in his hands. “Let’s MOVE, you two! We have less than 70 clicks to get out of here!”

Confusion reigned in the Maximum Security Prison. No one knew what was going on except the computer kept ominously counting:

“Sir!” called a black and yellow guard. “The countdown was initiated from this facility! We have several breakouts!”

Hurried footsteps brought his attention to his left. Three robots ran down the hall—a silver, a bronze, and a blue. He recognized the last one.

“Out of the way!” cried the small silver as he blew past the bewildered Maximal into an escape vehicle.

“Halt!” ordered General Skyhawk. The silver was carrying a spark container! That could only be—

They ignored him. The bronze ran into the vehicle after the silver. Digger came last, running at full speed with a gun clutched in his hand.

“None of your business, loud mou—OOF!” Digger plowed into a Maximal coming from the opposite direction. Hysterical’s bronze head popped out of the vehicle.

Without warning General Skyhawk gurgled and fell over. Puzzled, Digger stepped over him into the vehicle with his comrades. Hysterical frowned.

From the cockpit Raze fired up the engines and broke away from the prison, blasting into space. Behind them the Security Prison’s computer still counted:

A Maximal guard stopped in front of General Skyhawk and kneeled over him. He made an awful discovery.

Moments later on the Darkside II at Spaceport 4...

“Commander, they have just escaped from the prison,” reported Spitfire. He was seated at the ship’s long-range sensor computer. Starath ran over to his side.

“Excellent. Right on time. I knew we could count on Armourclaw’s hacking skills.”

Armourclaw had acted as a Maximal Security Bot in the Prison to ensure the release of Sabrewolf’s spark. He was the only one who could hack into the Security system.

Spitfire allowed himself a thin smile. “He’s probably happy about getting rid of that Maximal name he had.”

On the computer screen, an orange spot followed a trajectory path towards Cybertron. Several green dots suddenly appeared behind it.

Spitfire scanned them. “Five Maximal Security ships. They were attempting to dock with the Prison before it shut down. They are now pursuing Raze and the others.”

“Blast it!” Starath slammed her fist into the consol, leaving a large dent. “Will they intercept?”

Her loyal soldier did some rapid calculations. He glanced up at her with piercing yellow optics narrowed in concern. “They will intercept three cycles before our comrades arrive.”

“Then we will have to give them cover-fire. You go to the Darkside II’s weapons. I will stay here and control the operations further. Understood?”

The Maximal Counsel Court Chamber’s round black dome stood out in the center of the city, among the green grass and trees growing along its perimeter. Its main hall served as a meeting place for all the Maximal leaders. There they discuss economy situations, judge trials, and other subjects of importance. Today they were talking about a potential enemy— the Predacons.

“They have been too quiet,” said one Maximal in a high reedy voice. “They must be up to something.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” said another seated across from them at the long table. “They are still ashamed of the actions committed by Megatron twenty-five stellarcycles ago.”

Seated at the head of the table, the High Counselor held up his grey hands for silence. Voices quieted and optics of all colors turned to him.

“Friends, please not let us argue over this. There have been no actions done to even suggest the Predacons are planning something. They have no reason to—“

A large Maximal embellished by military medals stood up and slammed his fist on the table. He wore an intense expression.

“Just because no actions seem to have been made, does not mean they aren’t doing anything! Why, just yesterday a Predacon ship was allowed to land at one of our spaceports! We don’t even know how they got clearance! Explain that to me, Counselor!”

A murmur of agreement buzzed in the room. The High Counselor silenced them with another wave of his hand. He acknowledged the standing robot with a nod.

“Jhetta, this is nothing new. The Predacons come and go through our ports. You know that as well as I.”

“Of course, Counselor. It is my business to know. You are getting old my friend, because you seem to be forgetting something important— We are talking about Predacons here! They cannot be trusted!”

“That is quite ENOUGH!” The High Counselor’s voice rang sharply in the room. He pointed a finger at Jhetta, his beige optics flashing with controlled anger.

“I have heard enough from you. Just because you are head of military security it does NOT give you the authority to accuse me of being old and forgetting things. I am aware of what the Predacons are and are NOT doing. And they are not against us!”

A deafening stillness settled into the room as the High Counselor’s words hung in the air, and not a robot dared to break the silence. The horrendous explosion did.

The Maximal leaders were thrown from their seats as the blast shook the entire building. A second explosion blew out all the windows. Scrambling upright the Maximals fled through the huge doors of the Counsel Chamber. Another detonation knocked them off their feet. The walls of the domed structure began to crack and groan. Rushing out onto the grass, the terrified Maximals could only stand and watch as the roof began to cave in, and the building folded inwards with a tremendous crash. Billowing smoke poured from the wreckage and poured into the sky. Shaking his head in disbelief, the High Counselor’s optics widened with horror.

Jhetta stumbled next to him, holding the Counselor up as he collapsed, weeping silent tears. The military leader uttered one word.

Looking upwards, the green and yellow Predacon called up to his comrade, seated high above.

“Bruiser! Hurry up, those Maximals aren’t going to stand gawking at their precious dome forever!”

His words took awhile before they reached Bruiser, because his friend was standing at the very base of the huge statue of Optimus Prime. Bruiser glanced up from his task and cast a wary glance down, forcing himself to stay steady. He was sitting on Optimus Prime’s arm, fighting loose the Golden Disk the statue held.

“I know, I’m working as fast as I can!” Looking over his shoulder Bruiser could see the Maximal leaders in front of the destroyed Counsel Court Chamber.

“By the Matrix,” cursed Bruiser as he pulled on the golden disk. He was chosen for his strength to do this job, but it didn’t seem to help him any. This was taking too long.

“Come on you….” he pleaded to the Disk, screwing up his optics in intense concentration. It gave way partially. Bruiser’s green optics snapped open widely.

“Oh slag,” In one mighty effort Bruiser put all his force into one pull. He removed the Golden Disk with a snap, nearly sending himself flying backwards into space.

“Got it!” Glancing into Optimus Prime’s frozen face, he said, “Thanks pal!” and jumped down, landing with a heavy thump.

“Stop him!” The Maximals ran toward Bruiser but they still had a lot of ground to cover.

“I am SO outta here!” he transformed into a sleek black car and said to his friend, “You have to hold ‘em off my tail. See you later!”

BanditOne scanned the Transwarp coordinates running down the screen of his computer console. After checking them a third time, he turned to his Commander, who was seated behind him.

“Everything’s clear to go. We can enter Transwarp space anytime you want to, sir.”

Tapping his fingers together thoughtfully, Commander Shadowstalker took a deep breath, preparing himself. He was the leader of an exploration mission, a trip that would take he and his other crew members lightyears from their homeworld, Cybertron. Many of them would be leaving the planet for the first time. Shadowstalker took a long look around the command center, eyeing each of his comrades. Four in all, three mechs and one femme. They watched him with strict attention, awaiting his word. He noted a hint of fear in some of their optics. In a low deep voice Commander Shadowstalker issued his commands.

Astral’s warp engines whined and flashed neon blue. Space itself began to bend around the ship, pulling the vessel inwards into Transwarp space. Stars began to blur. Shadowstalker spoke sharply.

The Maximal exploration ship vanished from space, on its journey for discovery and adventure.

“The Maximals are closing in fast!!” cried Hysterical in wild panic. “Raze, do something!! We have to get away from them!”

“What do you THINK I’m doing??” demanded the frustrated Predacon as he steered the ship through space. “I don’t need a side-seat driver, you know!”

The small escape vehicle from the Maximum Security Prison narrowly dodged incoming blasts from the five Maximal Security ships pursuing them. The outlaw Predacons held on tight as Raze steered crazily to avoid the shots coming from behind. “We’re entering Cybertron’s atmosphere, get ready for a bumpy ride!” shouted Raze.

Six fireballs streaked into the atmosphere, burning hot red and orange trails in the sky. The escape ship shook violently from the reentry. Sabrewolf’s spark canister slipped from Hysterical’s grip and fell to the floor. Before he could react Armourclaw caught it before it could shatter. The navy blue Predacon handed Hysterical the canister.

“You’d better be more careful! Commander would have killed us if we lost the spark.”

“Five clicks until we break free! Hang on!” Raze kept the ship’s nose pointed downwards as he counted: “5... 4... 3… 2… 1—“

The ship pulled free of the atmosphere. Hysterical hopped up to the cockpit and patted Raze’s back.

“Not quite.” said the small silver Predacon grimly. “The Maximals should be after us anytime now.”

True to his prediction, the five Maximal Security ships burst through the clouds directly behind them. Hysterical became so panicked he almost dropped the spark canister.

“There’s nothing we CAN do,” said Armourclaw through gritted teeth, “We just have to hope we can get to the spaceport.”

“I see it! I see it! Down there!” he pointed, nearly dropping the spark container again. Amourclaw took it from him.

“Aw man…” Raze groaned as he heard the warning alarm go off. “Projectile incoming!”

Everyone was jolted sideways and thrown against the wall. Raze angrily shoved Hysterical off his lap and read the computer.

“It’s Spitfire! He’s giving us cover fire……. hmm, and that even rhymed!”

In the Darkside II, Spitfire took careful aim on another Maximal ship. His targeting reticule glowed red as it locked on.

One ship tried to dodge the black cloud and slammed into the ship too close beside it, destroying them both in a fiery explosion. Spitfire’s laugh sounded like dry wires crackling together.

“Spitfire!” Commander Starath’s sudden voice on the radio did not startle him. Calmly he flipped the intercom switch.

Starath’s tone held urgency. “We are attracting too much attention for my liking. Already these Maximals at the spaceport are panicking. We must depart sooner than planned. Get Raze and the others here as quickly as possible. Bruiser is approaching with the Golden Disk as well. We will launch in three cycles. Understood?”

Even though Commander Starath was not in the room Spitfire nodded and saluted smartly.

Slowly and surely Spitfire took aim on the remaining Maximal ship. It became a million shattered pieces like those before it. Spinning around from his chair the large dark red and green Predacon leapt down hard metal stairs two at a time to the radios.

Bruiser had floored it all the way to the spaceport, his vehicle-mode engine screaming down the street. In his car seat the Golden Disk bounced about wildly as he drove over the bumpy road.

“Alright, I’ll be there soon. Just a little further. Soon Commander will have the Disk.”

He passed through a curving off ramp into the spaceport. A loud grinding shriek caught his attention. A small space vehicle was skidding down a main runway. Sparks flew everywhere until it came to a smoldering halt. The hatch flew open and three robots came tumbling out. Bruiser recognized them immediately.

Speeding down the roadway Bruiser came upon an entrance terminal of the spaceport, nearby the stationed Darkside II. The heavy black gates suddenly began to close and several Maximal guards ran out to the gate with large autoweapons.

“I don’t think so!” cried Bruiser as he smashed through the gates and ran over a Maximal. Those who jumped out of the way fired their guns at his retreating form.

Underneath her ship Commander Starath spotted Bruiser’s black vehicle mode racing across the spaceport. After helping Armourclaw, Raze and Hysterical on board she called out to him.

He readied himself to transform when a bullet shot from a Maximal guard exploded his fuel tank, sending him flying head over tailpipe. Transforming in midair Bruiser hit the ground hard. The Golden Disk rolled beside him. Immediately Starath ran to his side.

She grasped his arms in an effort to haul him upright. “I am not leaving you behind. Come on, get up!”

She hesitated, not willing to leave her friend helpless against the hated Maximals. Straining his thick arms Bruiser picked up the Golden Disk and shoved it into Starath’s hands, jolting her backwards.

Commander Starath figured the Golden Disk, looking from the Maximal police to her friend Bruiser. She took a deep breath.

Starath stepped into the Command Center where Spitfire, Hysterical, Armourclaw and Raze were seated at their various assignments. Glancing up from his computer, Hysterical asked,

Hysterical’s dull red optics dimmed in remorse. They were leaving a friend behind.

A deafening roar sliced the air as the Darkside II blasted off in a brilliant ball of fire from the Cybertronian spaceport. The ground rushed away as the ship climbed through the clouds, and Cybertron’s city lights gradually faded from view as the clouds grew heavier. Higher, higher, higher the Darkside II ascended. Hysterical whined.

“That’s the least of our worries. Spitfire, do we have immediate pursuers?”

“When we enter Transwarp space we should reach the Nemmodian Asteroid Field in four cycles.”

“Assuming we don’t get shot down first, that is.” mumbled Hysterical from the room’s corner.

“Of course, that’s what I’m supposed to prevent!” He spun around in his swivel chair several times before he let his fingers dance across the keypad.

“Ready to enter Transwarp space on my mark,” barked Starath. The Darkside II’s warp core whined as it fired up. The engines burned a dark blue.

Space itself bent and twisted around the Darkside II. Ripples in space moved in and engulfed the Predacon ship, shooting it into Transwarp space. The missiles launched by the Challenger flew into the waves and detonated where the Darkside II once was.

Armourclaw glanced at his computer screen, focusing on the radar display. He winced at what he saw.

“Slag! Commander, the Maximals are still on us! They’ve locked onto our energy signature and are following us through Transwarp!”

“Yes sir!” He flipped switches across his board and wrapped a hand around a joystick-looking device. “Time for some target practice!”

“Projectiles incoming!” shouted Spitfire, a hint of fear in his tone. Maneuvering in Transwarp space was not possible. Commander Starath’s fist smashed onto the arm of her chair as she thought the same thing.

“Raze, if we break Transwarp how far will we be from the Nemmodian Asteroid Field?”

“If we break now we will be 3.5 lightyears away from our target. Too far to be of any use to us.”

“No cover…. If we break out of Transwarp and jump back in will we avoid being hit?”

Tension mounted in the room as Raze considered the possibility. Finally he replied,

The Darkside II rocked violently to starboard before it could break Transwarp. Everyone barely held onto their seats. Hysterical fell and landed on his head.

Blue veins of electricity surged through the ship’s power systems. Lights and computers flickered and went dark as the power shut down. Within seconds auxiliary power kicked on and the ship came back to life.

“Systems… damaged… “ Raze checked their flight course. He swallowed hard.

“C-Commander! Our flight programming! It’s been deleted! We’re traveling blind!”

Starath settled herself in her chair uneasily, pressing her hand to her forehead. We’re so close….

“Wha-- what??” Raze’s fingers flew over the various buttons and switches. His deep green optics widened. “Commander! Two lightyears away! Another ship is in Transwarp!” He turned to his leader with frightened astonishment. “We’re following it!”

Across space, the Maximal Exploration ship Astral shot unwillingly towards a glowing white power anomaly. Inside, its crew lay off-line and silent, unaware of their journey. Blue surges spread through the ship’s systems as the anomaly drew the ship in. The Darkside II became a helpless follower of its path. Recognizing the close disaster, the Maximal cruiser Challenger broke Transwarp before it could be pulled in as well. Suddenly the Astral disappeared into the anomaly with a blinding flash.

Raze fought to override the safety systems. He tapped the keys of his consol hard and fast.

Stars blurred back into view as the Darkside II stopped its Transwarp course just before entering the anomaly. The entire Predacon crew breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Too much strain had been put on the Darkside II’s engines. They collapsed and imploded, power surges flooding through the ship, knocking everyone off-line. The explosion shuddered through the ship and lurched it forward.

[Energon cubes destabilized. Detonation imminent. Ejection of energon cubes commencing.]

Blue energon cubes were expelled into space, flying past both lifeless ships. The energon exploded within the anomaly.

A sonic wave echoed silently in space as the anomaly protested its forced closure, propelling the ships towards a small blue and green planet with one moon.

In the event of planetfall, a ship’s computer is programmed to launch any stasispods in its cargo hold to prevent possible damage from the ship’s landing.

One by one, black and silver streamlined stasispods were launched from the Darkside II and Astral before they reached the atmosphere.

Flames leapt from the ship’s hulls as they hit the planet’s strong thick atmosphere. The separate ship computers spoke as one:

The silent world was shattered by a sonic boom erupting from the skies. Native creatures large and small watched with wonder as two dark masses streaked through the clouds as burning fireballs, scarring the air with billowing black smoke trails.

Both ships landed easily, thirty miles apart from one another. One ship fell upon hard rocky ground near an active volcano, the other on a flat plain surrounded by forests. Smoldering steam blew from their cooling systems as the separate computers spoke as one once more: