Transform And Roll Out
By Matt TALON Kirkby
"Stand by," Nightbeat said softly. Around him, the
rest of his bridge crew made no reply as they concentrated on their
various instruments. "Time to target?"
"Realspace entry in thirty-seven seconds."
Nightbeat nodded. "Thanks, Hot Rod. Weapon status?"
"Everything is charged up or loaded," Topspin
replied in a grim tone. "We're ready to fire as soon as I get a
target." The Autobot suppressed a shiver, feeling the twinge of
pre-combat nerves cycle through his circuits. Despite all his long
Vorns of his career as a soldier, he couldn't recall a mission with so
much depending on it. "The future of the Autobots rests on our
shoulders," he whispered.
"What was that?" Hot Rod asked.
"Nothing of importance." Topspin put a growl into
his voice, to mask any trace of nervousness. "Now show some respect to
your elders and give us a fleet update."
"Everything looks ready," the younger Autobot
announced. "No emergency signals have come in, and everyone is
maintaining corn-silence." Just like Optimus Prime had ordered. "We're
ready."
"I hope so."
Hot Rod ignored Topspin's muttered reply. He was
going to show those murderous Decepticons a thing or two. Primus
willing, he'd make them pay for what they'd done. And pay and keep on
paying.
"Stand by," Nightbeat said. "Realspace entry now!"
he ordered and he braced himself as the strike fleet emerged into
normal space. "Tactical report!"
"Planet is three thousand kilometres from us...we're
closing now."
"Two Decepticon spacefighters in weapons' range."
"Hit them fast, Topspin!"
"Already firing." A score of the new tnegamissiles
homed in on both fighters and turned the ships into expanding clouds of
half-molten metal before their crews even knew they were under attack*
"Order all groups to break and attack!" Nightbeat
noted that, for once, the battle was unfolding according to plan. "Tell
Arcae to stand by." He gestured to the sensor screen. "Direct the first
wave to skim those frigates...we need to draw them off."
"Autobot vessels are attacking here?" Mercer sounded
shocked as the report was delivered, "This is intolerable!" he snarled
to the officer on the corn-screen-who flinched, even though she was
elsewhere in the building. "Activate all planetary defenses! Mobilize
the entire garrison! And get me an accurate scan of them!" He blanked
the screen, then slammed his fist onto his desk. "This is too soon!"
"Are you truly afraid of an attack?" Razorclaw asked
from near the office's armored window. He turned his cold gaze onto the
planetary governor. Megatron had sent his newly regained Earth-based
Decepticons to various planets of his Empire for repairs, upgrades, and
indoctrination into the new order of things. Thus far, Razor-claw was
less than impressed with Dnema and its Decepticon inhabitants. However,
the arrival of Autobots would make things interesting.
"I fear very little," Mercer replied to the spoken
question. "But given recent events, an attack now could have most
serious consequences. The Disciples are-"
"The Disciples are weak prey," the Predacon replied.
"Only their numbers make them threats...and those numbers just offer us
that many more targets."
Mercer was about to reply when a monitor flashed to
life with reports on the attacking ships. Schematics scrolled across
the monitor. "Those ships are Autobot designs," he said, a measure of
calm in his voice. "New ships. So-called Defenders. or so I have been
told." Almost fifty of them scattered across the Dnema system.
"Apparently our spy was correct after all...the Autobots are attempting
to counter our offensives with their own assault."
"You have a spy among them?"
"Of course. Megatron placed many spies amongst his
enemies." Mercer's tone was arrogant. "Shockwave and Galvatron were
both manipulated by Megatron. He chose the course and timing of events
and made them dance to his tune. He played them like puppets!" Mercer
laughed. Then he sobered, "But these Autobots do pose a moderate threat
to this world."
"They must destroyed."
"Agreed, Our space forces are already responding."
Mercer nodded at the large tactical displays which was bright with
icons. "Let these deluded mechs attempt to oppose us...they will be
destroyed quickly-trapped by our forces before they can escape this
time-and finally we can work towards our destiny without their
continued interference."
Razorclaw studied a display of the planet and the
rapidly growing space battle as additional spacefighters and Tarn-class
frigates moved to intercept the incoming ships. "Megatron is not the
only puppeteer," he chuckled. "They have tricked you into opening a
hole in your defenses!"
Mercer whirled to stare at the display.
"Impossible!" he snapped. "Our ships are faster and bigger and can..."
he fell silent. "Their maneuvers are pulling ships out of formation!"
"No, they've already done it." Several Autobot ships
were already touching Dnema's upper atmosphere. "They're too small for
the main surface batteries to lock onto," he noted. By the same token,
they were too small to cause extensive damage to Dnema...but they could
destroy a fair chunk of real estate.
"Let them come," Mercer scoffed. "Those few ships
cannot drive us from this world. If they dare land my Decepticons will
smash them!"
"I doubt that is their intention," Razorclaw
countered in an equally calm tone. "I have fought these Autobots
before-many times, Mercer. I know how they think, how they react, how
they are driven by their precious moral code." He jabbed a finger at
the display. "They're trying to prove a point. This is but a raid! A
small strike to gather intelligence about us, to distract us from
pressing our attacks against Cybertron and Earth. They do not intend to
conquer this world, only to force us into diverting resources here to
further strengthen its defenses."
"Are you certain of that, Predacon?"
"Yes."
Mercer paused for a moment. Razorclaw was
correct-the Predacon did have far more personal experience with
Autobots than Mercer himself. "If this world is lost, Megatron will
demand-"
"If this world is lost," Razorclaw interrupted,
"then I and my Predacons will have died in its defense." Ho turned
around, transformed to lion-mode and loped towards the office door. "We
will be at the spaceport. Alert your ground troops to prepare for
combat. Things are going to get messy." And he chuckled as he left the
office.
"Signal Oberon that Phase Two is underway," Arcee
tapped her console as the Defender dodged enemy fire. "Press the
assault and get us onto the ground!" "Hey, Arcee, it's great to have
you back again." Arcee looked at Seaspray. "Oh?" "Yeah, you haven't
been the same since Cindras."
"I know."
"Fire missiles."
"Done," Highbrow replied.
"Decepticons incoming. Silverbolt is moving to
engage."
Doubleclutch hoped the Aerialbots knew what they
were doing-they were attacking in just jet-modes without Defensor.
"Give them some cover fire!" "What we can."
"Let's mix it up." Slipstream accelerated with the
rest of his squadron, "Let's swat some 'Bots!" Their new ships were
sleek, yet not as agile as his fighter-mode comrades.
"Missile lock," one Decepticon reported.
"Go evasive."
Laser bolts streaked past them.
"Return fire!" Slipstream fired his missiles just as
his wing mate caught a laser bolt and exploded.
"We're going in fast!" Hound warned as he adjusted
the thrusters. "Move fast enough and we can avoid their sensors and
anti-ship weapons."
"You just fly this crate," Mirage told him. "I'll
give them something else to watch." He triggered the missile launchers.
"What are you doing?" TwinTwist demanded.
"Making a distraction."
"You fired missiles at ground targets?" TwinTwist
sounded shocked. "But they'll destroy-"
"It's fair trade!" Mirage countered coldly. "The
Decepticons have smashed both Autobot City and Cybertron! You made it
off Cybertron-didn't you see what they did to Iacon?" A loud beep
signaled the missiles' impacts. "This is just payback I" he snarled as
twenty square kilometers of cityscape vanished under sun-bright
explosions.
Razorclaw saw the smoke rising on the horizon. The
fireball had climbed several kilometers into the sky...and he could see
half a dozen such clouds. "The Autobots are rash," he mused. "Missile
strikes are not part of their standard tactics." He didn't know exactly
what had been targeted, but he doubted anything had survived at ground
zero.
"Maybe they finally realized how pathetic they
fought," Rampage growled as he loped after his commander. "They're
finally learning some decent tactics."
"The shuttle!" Divebomb squawked. "It's heading
towards the far side of the port."
"Then we must meet it," Razorclaw snapped as he
spotted the descending shuttle. His mouth twisted with amusement as the
spaceport's heavy laser batteries fired uselessly-the lasers weren't
even coming close to the shuttle! "Go, my Predacons, our prey awaits
us!"
Hot Rod rolled the Defender as laser bolts stabbed
along its previous course. "How's this?"
"Better," Topspin said as he triggered their lasers
and sent a hail of bolts stabbing back at the spacefighter. "Think that
will discourage them from following?"
"No." Nightbeat braced himself as Hot Rod went
evasive again.
"Strike teams are hitting the ground," Arcee's voice
crackled over the comlink. "Groove's shuttle took a hit...it went down
hard. Three shuttles never made it."
"This is costing us," Hot Rod observed grimly.
"Wars always do," Topspin replied. "Now bring us
around to a new course. I want to drop a few mega missiles right down
their viewports!"
"You got it." Hot Rod gunned the engines. "Hang onto
your motivators, Topspin."
"The shuttle set down near the south complex!" The
Decepticon officer waved his arms to his troops. "Spread out. The crew
can't have gotten far!"
"You got that right!" Smokescreen stepped around the
side of a building and leveled his rifle. "It's payback time!" His
shoulder-mounted missiles roared.
Pipes jumped up from behind a park hovertruck and
tackled the officer. "This is for Iacon!" He punched the Decepticon
into unconsciousness.
The Decepticon patrol lifted their weapons and
opened fire.
"Let's slice and dice!"
An explosion caught the shout short.
"Cover fire!"
Spinister hovered over a building-maybe a warehouse,
maybe a factory--and he poured weapon's fire onto a group of Autobots.
Several fell.
Raggletag ducked as bullets whined past his head. He
didn't know how the rest of the battle was going, but he hoped the
other teams were having better luck than he was having. He snapped off
a laser, but doubted he had done any damage.
SkyScreech grinned savagely as his frigate's lasers
sliced into a Defender. "Score one for the home team!" he shouted to
his crew. "Hit them again!" The small shuttle exploded. "Yes,
beautiful!"
"Signal from Dnema…we are to fall back to
near-orbit. Mercer's orders. No further Autobot landings can be
permitted."
"I didn't hear that!" SkyScreech replied loudly.
"For there is no glory to be won fighting in orbit! We must hunt the
enemy down out here, in the void!" He paced across the cramped bride of
his Tarn-class frigate. "Weapons, lock onto another-"
"Autobots heading towards us!"
"What?" SkyScreech scoffed. "Are they mad?" His ship
was nearly five times as big as them, with more weapons, stronger
shields, and-"What was that?"
"Shield emitters just failed!" The officer stabbed
fingers at his console. "A fluke shot, Captain. A fluke laser pierced
our shields and hit the primary emitter! I can't get the shields back
up."
"Defender is closing!"
"Weapons, shoot them down!"
"For Autobot City!" Hot Rod triggered a mega missile
as Topspin was distracted with attempting to restore power to their
failing shields.
SkyScreech saw the missile closing rapidly on his
ship. "Decepticons forever!" he screeched as fire consumed him.
Razorclaw growled softly as he stalked an unwary
Autobot. "Divebomb here...Mercer has new orders for us."
"Slag Mercer!" Rampage snarled over the comm. "We
got our own fun."
"Silence," Razorclaw ordered. "Divebomb, what does
he want?"
"Autobots are tearing through his security teams
near the fuel depot. He wants us to stop them."
"All Predacons, converge on my position." Razorclaw
growled as he scented his earlier prey. "And quickly!" He pounced.
Mirage slipped into an empty control center. "Too
easy," he said. "Especially for someone who can make himself
invisible." He adjusted a series of controls, issuing new orders to the
machinery of the fueling center. "I wonder how big a boom this place
will make?"
"Almost a big a boom as you, Autobot!"
Mirage looked up as a Decepticon stepped through the
door. "I suppose you're going to tell me to raise my hands?"
"No," the Decepticon replied. "Only to die." A bolt
of light stabbed from his pistol and stabbed through Mirage to hit the
console which exploded. "What?"
Mirage suddenly appeared on his left. "Surprise!" He
punched the Decepticon, knocking him to the floor. "You can't shoot a
hologram," he said. "But you can make a mess of the computer console."
It was sparking rather violently. "I suppose the reprogramming I did
earlier didn't help any." He hurried from the room. "This is going to
be loud."
"Two more spacefighters disabled."
Alone in his office, Mercer shook his head. "The
Autobots had developed some surprisingly effective ships...and despite
his larger and more powerful warships, he was losing. Well, being
out-flanked. "A draw," he said aloud. "We can keep them away from the
planet, but they're better suited to combat in open space." How very
strange...the initial assault had not reported any such difficulties
with destroying the Autobots on Cybertron. Why were they now so
effective?
"Commander," an aide reported from a corn-screen,
"we have fresh reports of ‘bot ground troops."
"Where?" Mercer turned to the map on his main
monitor.
"Tracking reports that one of the shuttles crashed
in sector three by five."
Mercer smiled. "Inform local security to collect
them." The situation was grim, but salvageable. Megatron would be
pleased by his success.
Sludge lumbered through the remnants of an enemy
security team. Every Decepticon he stomped on was one less to trouble
the universe.
Laser fire pelted his armored hide, barely
scratching him.
"He's coming this way!"
"Slag him!" Blitzkrieg shrieked. He took aim and
prepared to unleash his full array of weaponry is a devastating display.
With a loud roar, Skreem leaped from his perch atop
a stack of crates. The velociraptor tore into Blitzkrieg, ripping his
armor to shreds.
Skeer, a massive anklyosaurus, swung his club-like
tail and sent two Decepticons flying. His turtle-like back ignored
their weapons' fire.
"This is not happening," the security commander
muttered. These weren't Autobots ...they were unstoppable forces of
nature! A loud voice interrupted his thoughts.
Sludge loomed over him. "This is for Grimlock and
for Slag and for Swoop." He emphasized every name with a stomp of his
foot onto the hapless commander.
"Getting shot down, how embarrassing," Hot Rod
muttered.
"I said dodge that fighter, not ram it!" Topspin
peaked around the corner of the corridor. "We were lucky we didn't' all
get killed."
"The thrusters jammed!" Hot Rod told him.
"Quiet," Nightbeat said. "Any more noise and you
might as well put up a sign for the Decepticons." They had been lucky
their Defender had crashed into an empty shuttle bay. "The bridge
should be just down this corridor."
"Then what?"
"Then we steal it." Nightbeat was a detective...he
was used to solving crimes, not committing them! The hatch to the
bridge hissed open. "Get ready...charge!"
"For Autobot City!" Hot Rod shouted as he race down
the corridor, firing his pistol as he ran.
"I can smell the Autobots!" Razorclaw inhaled
several cubic meters worth of atmosphere. "They're close."
"As you say." Tantrum grunted loudly.
"So where are they?" Rampage demanded. "I want to
shred some 'Bots!"
Razorclaw sniffed again. "I'd say they're right-"
A thunderous explosion made the ground shake.
"The fuel depot!" Divebomb squawked.
Razorclaw could see the fires. Flames were reaching
high into the air, and thick smoke was billowing skyward. "Mercer is
going to be very angry."
Groove stumbled behind a crate as laser fire hissed
past his head. "This is not good," he moaned. His shuttle had crashed,
the rest of his comrades were dead, and now he was stuck on some
Decepticon-controlled mudball, "This is not what I signed up for."
"Where'd he go?" a deep voice boomed.
"Over here somewhere," a second voice said. "Keep
searching. He can't have gotten far."
"What about the others?"
"They're moving in on the shuttle. The Autobots
can't escape us this time. We have them surrounded…they set foot
outside that ship and we'll blow them to bits." He laughed.
Groove put his hands over his audio receptors. A
loud explosion erupted nearby.
"What the slag was that?" one of the Decepticons
shouted.
Then Groove popped up from his hiding place and
blasted both Decepticons before they could react.
"Good shooting," a new voice said, "Hey, hold your
fire!"
"Sorry, Mirage." Groove lowered his pistol-noticing
just how much his hand was shaking. "You startled me."
"Sorry, I wasn't thinking," Mirage said. "Good
distraction though."
"My Defender." Groove explained, "It couldn't fly
any more, but it still paid its way." He hoped his comrades understood
why he had left their bodies behind though….
"Well, then I guass you're gonna need a lift' home.."
"Guess so. Where's your Defender?"
"We're not taking a Defender," Mirage replied with a
grin. "We're borrowing a ship from our hosts."
Mercer had left his office and gone to the planetary
situation room. There, he had access to every Decepticon installation
and ship on or near Dnema, "Report?"
"The Autobot ships are still active," an aide
replied. "They're small enough to elude fire from our main weapon
platforms, and they're more maneuverable than our spacefighters and
frigates."
"Redeploy the fleet! I want them blown out of
space!" Mercer would tolerate no excuses...nor would Megatron.
"We're trying."
"Report from field command. Autobots are detected in
twelve more locations." A map of Dnema's surface lit up with colored
icons. "The spaceport is the most active region."
"Yes, what word is there from Razorclaw?" Mercer
demanded. The Pradacon's words had rankled...he was as much a true
Decepticon as that Predacon.
"No direct communications," he was told. "However,
the port's main com-tower was destroyed by missile fire early in the
battle. Fires are reported in the fuel depot and near the main repair
bays."
Mercer winced. "The Autobots are inflicting damage
far beyond projections?"
"Yes."
"Any word on reinforcements?"
"Negative. Megatron has summoned most of the fleet
to deal with the Disciples. The nearest reinforcements are still hours
away."
Mercer nodded, "I hadn't expected to receive any,
but Megatron would be furious if the Autobots escaped from Dnema
again...and this raid could be just a softening up prelude to a
full-scale invasion. But the spy hadn't reported anything about any
invasion, only minor raids.... Mercer made a decision. "Redeploy ground
troops to all known Autobot locations. I want them located, pinned
down, and terminated! This is priority one!"
"Time's up," Arcee announced, "Signal to all
teams-Phase Four!" "Broadcasting now."
"Swing us around to course nine by thirty. Fire,
lasers to clear that weapon platform, Give me a random missile strike
on the surface to cover the retreat."
"Understood." Seaspray nodded.
"Let’s get this crate moving!" Mirage was already
adjusting controls and powering up the engines. "Those fires won't keep
the Decepticons distracted for long."
"We're set," Groove replied as he finished setting
up his console. "Let's go!"
Mirage triggered the thrusters, kicking them to full
power, and he felt the cargo freighter lift off from the surface of
Dnema, "Slow, sluggish, with the sensor shadow of a small moon," he
muttered, but loaded with supplies the Autobots could use in their
struggle. "Lift off. I'm heading for orbit." He throttled the drives to
maximum, feeling the ship's structure shudder with the effort. "Either
we'll get away," he muttered over the noise, "or we'll fall apart."
"I’m setting the navigation system," Groove said.
"We'll jump to hypsrapace as soon as possible. I've laid in a few extra
jumps first though, to prevent anyone from tracking us to Oberon."
"Good." Mirage noted something. "I see a tracking
tower!"
"Firing weapons," Groove said, reaching for the
triggering switches, "I wish this crate had some decent guns."
"I wish we had a bigger crew!"
Razorclaw kept his Predacons back as other
Decepticons rushed towards the fires threatening what was left of the
fuel depot's reserve tanks. "No, it's too obvious," the Predacon
commander told his muttering troops. "The Autobots would not make such
an obvious display if they were still nearby." His gaze drifted towards
the nearby landing pad.
And focused on a freighter lifting skyward.
"To the pads!" Razorclaw shouted. "They’re getting
away!" He pointed to the freighter. "The Autobots-a stole a freighter!"
The Predacon ran to the spaceport, barreling past startled guards and
scurrying technicians.
"Out of my way!" Razorclaw shoved a technician away
from a parked spacefighter. "We're taking off!" He hurried through the
hatch. "Divebomb, power up this crate!" He watched the other Predacons
find stations on the bridge of the small craft. "Lift off! Pursue that
freighter!"
Divebomb obeyed and the spacefighter screamed
skyward. Unlike the bulky cargo freighter the Autobots had stolen, this
ship was designed for speed.
Rezorclaw girdled to himself. A worthy prey
indeed...to so boldly steal a bulk freighter and then run with
it...almost a pity to have to kill them.
"We're being hailed," Tantrum growled.
"Razorclaw, what are you doing?" Mercer demanded
from the com-screen. "The battle is on the ground!"
"The battle is distraction! While you move around
your soldiers, the real prey escape!"
"Oh?"
"We are in pursuit of thieves," the Predacon
Commander replied. "The freighter breaking orbit is in Autobot
possession. We will retrieve it."
Mercer was silent for a moment. "Very well...but do
not fail, Predacon. Those Autobots must be terminated!"
"Of course," Razorclaw kept the mockery from his
tone as ha cut the com-system off...he would prove that the Predacons
were far superior to these so-called modern Decepticons. "Range to
target?"
"Twenty seconds to weapons' range."
"Maximum acceleration."
Razorclaw saw an explosion outside the viewports as
another ship succumbed to the still-raging space battle and exploded.
"Looks like they're preparing for a hyperspace jump."
"Stop them!"
"We're not in range!" Rampage snarled.
"Divebomb!"
"The engines are at maximum output," Divebomb
replied coldly. "They must have been undergoing an overhaul. I can't
get them to go any faster!"
"If they Jump to hyperspace..." Tantrum warned.
Razorclaw snarled to himself. The radiation and
gravity fields of hyperspace made tracking other vessels virtually
impossible. If the Autobots had too great a lead when they jumped, then
the Predacons might never find them again. "Prep a courier pod!"
"A courier pod?" Headstrong repeated.
"Set it to emit a homing beacon," Raaorclaw
explained with growing impatience, "then fire it at the freighter!"
Courier pods were faster than missiles, but too small to carry
warheads-they were designed to carry data crystals containing top
secret information through regions when transmissions were susceptible
to being intercepted or jammed. "Quickly!"
Headstrong’s fingers flew across the com-console.
"Done. Firing now." The pod streaked across space and struck the
freighter near its engine pods and magnetically grappled itself into
place.
"Now they cannot escape," Razorclaw chuckled as the
freighter vanished into hyperspace. "Follow the beacon," he ordered.
"And quickly." He had no desire to allow his prey too great a lead.
"This hunt will be great fun."