Nebraska:
“Calling all Autobots, calling all Autobots. We are being hunted. The humans… they’ve turned on us. Hide yourselves, and protect the humans. The mission has not changed. But do not be reckless. Do not take any unnecessary risks. Until we know more about what has changed, we’re all targets now.”
That was the message Outback received upon a scouting mission for Con activity way out here in the farmlands of Nebraska. The odd thing was, the location the signal was coming from, a massive energon surge indicated that they were here, but Outback then questioned why would the ‘Cons concern themselves with miles and miles of… well, nothingness really? That’s what sent his mind into overdrive screaming out alarm bells and that’s when he received the message from Prowl.
And that’s when he heard the roar of engines. A squad of human military vehicles, all emblazoned with this black skull on the side and led oddly enough by this red muscle car.
“Oh Slag… I hate it when they get smart on us…” Outback muttered before burning rubber and taking off down a cornfield. His thoughts ran wild, what had changed? And last he checked human military did not use old muscle cars even albeit heavily customized ones as vehicles in their brigades.
Ripping up the field as the red muscle car broke off from the pack and pursued him along a dirt trail that ran alongside the cornfield, Outback tried to lose his pursuers. The human in charge, this older guy wearing sunglasses and sporting a silver buzz cut rode in the muscle car’s passenger seat, an attractive blond-haired woman -at least by human standards- wearing sunglasses at the wheel.
The older human went for his radio, and barked into it: “D-13. You know what to do. Make it rain.”
Suddenly, Outback heard the whirling of rotors from somewhere up above, the vehicle in question being hidden by the glare of the sun before Outback suddenly found himself dodging and weaving as missiles lit up the cornfield in blasts of fire.
“Hey, you’ve never heard of warning shots?” Outback shouted before his comms lit up and a voice responded.
“Those were warning shots, Autobot Trash.”
That voice… It sounded vaguely familiar to Outback, although he couldn’t quite place where exactly he’d heard it before. Suddenly, he found himself sideswiped by the same muscle car from before even as machine gun fire riddled his chassis.
“Oi, get some driving lessons why don’t you?” Outback’s holo avatar -a burly looking man with a beard- yelled out at the human soldier as he managed to maneuver himself into some woodlands, kicking up dust and dirt in his wake.
His wheels pounded against the twigs, leaves, and rocks as he made a ran. The sounds of gunfire running past his head was all he could hear, and he tried his hardest not to look back. He looked back only for a split second, and looked back ahead as a dash of bullets ran past him. He jumped to the right using a boulder as a ramp, pushing through several trees and chopping off branches in the process.
"Don’t let him escape!" One of the soldiers cried. “You do so, and the boss will have our heads!”
Outback bounced up and down on a bumpy road as he made the turn, swerving into it. When he made it through the turn, the military cars behind him swerved as well, but winded up crashing into a few trees and even into each other. But not too far behind was the same muscle car from before speeding right behind him.
“Who are you?”
Outback’s eyes widened when no response was given and instead, the motor on top of the cars hood transformed into a miniature cannon which loaded up and primed itself with a humming sound.
“Scrap!” Outback swore, realizing just exactly what he was dealing with now. Humans… Aligned with Cybertronians.
Outback quickly transformed just in time. He jumped up, just over a tree that had fallen, right before the unknown Cybertronian took her shot. The laser ended up breaking the fallen tree, which she pushed right past. When Outback found himself on the freeways again, he jumped and converted back into his vehicular mode and kept on speeding right into this small town. He rounded a corner, his tires squealing out in protest even as angry horns honked all around him before he smashed right through the doors of an empty warehouse word splinters flying everywhere.
He came right out the other side, swerved a hard right even as laser shots smashed nearby shop windows and overturned a car sending it smashing into the back of a pickup truck. Overhead, Outback could still hear the sound of a certain helicopter’s rotors bullets riddling the streets behind him before he swerved down another corner and vanished from sight.
“D-13. Where the Hell has he gone?” the commander asked as his ride sped down a nearby alleyway hoping to catch Outback by surprise.
“Again, I ask you not to call me by that name,” Dropkick grumbled as he changed forms into his Ford Ute mode, usually reserved only for these ground pursuit situations. His codename soon became obvious, as the back half of his ute mode bore the phrase ‘D-13’ next to his Decepticon symbol, both in solid black typeface striking a sharp contrast across Dropkick’s otherwise blue bodywork.
“You are a soldier under my command, and so, therefore, you will go by the unit designation I call you by!” the commander bellowed. “Now find him!”
“He’s gone off my scanners,” Dropkick muttered in disgust making his contempt quite known as he pulled up alongside Shatter and her human companion, whom he’d like nothing more to turn into a puddle of slime to grind beneath his heelstruts. “Must have gone into deep cover mode, hiding his spark from our scanners.”
“Damn you!” the commander roared, slamming a fist up against Shatter’s dashboard.
Shatter fought back the urge to transform and shoot this James Savoy human dead on the spot or order her companion to do the same. But for now, they’d keep up the ruse no matter how much they hated it. As for Outback, the Autobot had managed to hide himself amongst the rusted vehicles gathered inside a WW2 museum and had ditched his previous altmode for something a little less… of a standout for the time being. Namely, this old Humber Light Reconnaissance Car. For now, this was where he’d stay. He’d keep in contact with the rest of Prowl’s brigade, but only minimally and under only important circumstances. No sense in giving away his spark signature, at least not at the moment. Like Prowl had said, they were all targets now…
It was not a smooth ride coming to Earth really. It hadn’t been a smooth takeoff from Cybertron either. Fast and quick, that’s what it amounted to really. Onslaught had stolen an old Decepticon battleship, codenamed the Darksyde and had made quick work in getting him and his crew as far away from Cybertron as he could without much notice.
At least, that was the plan. After hotdogging through several systems, the two ships had finally caught up with each other, and the Autobots… well, they were taking a pounding really with their craft not exactly meant to go up against a battle cruiser.
“Hull breach in Sector Seven! The guidance systems… They’re failing!” Hound shouted over the comms as the Darksyde’s cannons riddled the side of the Autobots own ship. “Don’t know how much longer we can stay in orbit!”
“So… That’s the way it is huh?” Prowl mused before shouting an order. “Prepare for boarding! Onslaught, he’s not the take prisoners type! If he wants to get away clean, he’s going to want to leave no witnesses!”
Prowl grabbed his gun, and Decepticon Hunter and readied them for battle, with his fellow crewmates swift to follow.
“Got incoming Seekers! Three of them it looks like!” Hound barked, as he brought up a viewscreen that did indeed show three Decepticon seekers in their distinctive ‘tetrajet’ altmodes on a course bearing right towards their ship, leaving purple energy trails in their wake. One a military green shade, the second a black and bronze and the third and final one a bright yellow, blazing hot as the sun. Hound groaned, this was the last thing they needed. The Rainmakers. “Autoguns to maximum!” he ordered Swerve. “Shoot them down!”
But despite the hail of incoming fire all three members of the Rainmakers managed to dodge the fire and as soon as they got close enough to the ship, parts shifted and moved as they converted to robot modes and magnetized themselves to the hull. The black and bronze one, Sky Shadow had brought out a drill and was automatically boring into the ship. Well, he tried to anyways before a lucky shot from a cannon blew him to pieces.
Acid Storm raised his rifle, and fired with it a glob of Tox-En hitting the cannon shot that had downed his brother and melting it completely. Another cannon was soon to follow, Acid Storm keeping the cannons off his brother’s back while Sunstorm drilled open a hole in the hull.
Parts on the hull itself shifted and moved as a hole opened itself up and leaping out of the hall duel machine guns in hand was Sword Breaker, moving from left to right behind cover that automatically sprouted up taking shots at both Seekers. Hound was soon to follow, grenade launcher in hand until a spinning shuriken from Stinger who was bolstering a jetpack knocked it out of his hands.
Stinger was then solidly drop-kicked in the face by Swordbreaker, who then set about riddling Sunstorm with bullets, the Decepticon going up in a massive fireball. A loud shriek caught Swordbreaker off guard and the next thing he knew he was pinned by this massive dark blue and orange Predacon who was trying to rip him open with his beak and claws.
Suddenly, Darksteel’s eyes widened when he heard the roar of an engine and looked up only to see Road Rage smash into him headlong sending the Predacon floating off into space.
“You know, one of these days your lust for battle is going to get you killed, you know that right? Need a hand?” Road Rage remarked as she pulled out her rifle and helped Swordbreaker up. Road Rage shook her head. That bot, a stubborn one really. Always wanting to be the first to shed some Energon and collect his bounty. Reminded her far too much of this bot named Repugnus. Granted, Swordbreaker was more tolerable than Repugnus ever was but still...
“No, but-” Swordbreaker started before several shots just barely missed them by mere inches. A green massive tank had landed atop the hull, gravitizing itself before shifting to robot mode, which bore an eerie resemblance to the late Decepticon scientist Shockwave. “Okay, never mind. An assist would be appreciated.” Swordbreaker commented as he changed one of his hands into a proton burst rifle, a type of Cybertronian shotgun and took a few shots at the newcomer.
“Boys and their toys…” Road Rage sighed, the two fighting back to back briefly before Road Rage flipped to the side to avoid a blast of Tox-En from Acid Storm. Road Rage fired her weapon in mid-flip, knocking the rifle out of Acid Storm’s hands before the seeker was sent flying back by waves of sound from Sunder.
“Get up and shout, ow!” Acid Storm murmured before he slipped into unconsciousness and drifted off into space back in the direction of the Darksyde. Nearby, Prowl had joined the battle, and had grabbed a charging Steeljaw by the shoulder and had slammed him into the ground.
“And stay down.” Prowl ordered as he heard shouts from over the comms. Decepticons had managed to board the ship all over. In the engine room, Under-3 and Swerve were just barely managing to hold back Hooligan and Swindle while Perceptor worked his bearings off just to keep the ship from going down. Suddenly, he heard a loud scream as Under-3’s life signs went offline, the once proud sports car having been hit by a lucky shot from Hooligan. He would only later find out two things, Swerve had avenged him with a good shot from his pistol and Under-3 hadn’t been totally offlined, just sent into stasis lock by a blast from Hooligan’s electro-shock rifle.
A familiar loud screech made Prowl’s optics widened even as the ship caught fire all around him and he saw Darksteel heading right for him, the Predacon changing forms in mid-air and bringing out this massive battle axe. All the while, Steeljaw was slowly but surely recovering.
Darksteel chuckled. “You know something, I actually thought taking this ship would be challenging. There is no reward awaiting any of you after death. This cruel injustice is all there is and all there ever will be. So, I take pride in the fact that I at least go in the glory of battle.”
Prowl lowered his head in shame. Once, the hippogriff Predacon had been a noble, just warrior fighting for the rights of his species. But cycle after cycle had changed him, turned him into this murderous savage. Perhaps Prowl should have seen it coming sooner, he thought. Perhaps he could have gotten the Predacon some help. But now, all that remained was this rabid dog who needed to be put down. “Do you know what kills lions?” Darksteel commented, referring to the name of the ship, the Leobreaker named after the famous Autobot ally. “The relentless persistence of time and the pointless cruelty of life. You'll die the same way.”
“Oh, shut up!” Prowl shouted, punching Darksteel in the face and slamming him up against a wall.
“While I don’t honestly agree with the savage,” Steeljaw commented as he wiped the energon off his mouth. “I must say, you really should give up. Might spare you a lot of pain in the end.”
“I never give up. I promised Nova Prime to pursue you and Onslaught to the ends of the galaxy just to bring you back to Cybertron, so you can face justice for your crimes,” Prowl said changing his Decepticon Hunter into a bo staff. “You need help Steeljaw, you could control your rages once, why not now?”
“Because… Because,” Steeljaw growled out claws bared. “I haven’t had anything to rip and tear for cycles. I’m just barely holding myself back as it is, keeping myself from ripping you limb from limb right here and now!”
Prowl managed to block the claw strikes with multiple intercepts from his bo staff, before changing it into a crossbow like weapon, and knocking Steeljaw back with a flurry of energy bolts. Clutching his side in pain, Steeljaw growled. “Another day, another day!” he shouted, before transforming and driving off. Yes, he knew Onslaught would inflict great punishment on him, but it was better than being brought down by an Autobot stooge.
Prowl meanwhile, not caring for what happened to Steeljaw at least for the moment found himself pinned down by Vehicons and dashing for cover, transforming into his hover car mode and trying to outpace the shots, purple toned explosions behind him and a wall of flame in front. Prowl revved his engine and shot through the inferno, before transforming into robot mode long enough to smash through the hull and kick Swindle in the face before shooting down some vehicon soldiers who had come to back him up.
“Thank the Allspark!” Swerve shouted. “Almost out of energy here!”
“Don’t go thanking Him just yet,” Prowl commented as he punched a recovering Swindle in the face flooring him. “We’re not out of here just yet.”
Suddenly, a shot flew past his head and stepping out of a groundbridge was the massive hulking form of Onslaught, red optics gleaming in pure undisguised menace.
“So, this is who they sent after me?” Onslaught remarked nearly flattening Prowl with one punch. “I’m not impressed.”
He then punched him in the gut, still continuing to speak. “The mighty Prowl, the one who once served as one of Optimus Prime’s lieutenants and now a simple beat cop. How the mighty have fallen.”
Dodging the next punch, Prowl threw one of his own but it was caught and his hand began to groan out in protest, metal being squeezed by Onslaught’s mighty fist. “I… I could say the same. You were once one of us, a member of the Autobot Elite Guard!” Prowl shouted back, the two trading blows atop a catwalk while the Leobreaker’s engines burned below them. “What changed?”
“You’re the logical one, figure it out,” Onslaught commented in reply. “I grew… tempted. By the power that being one of Megatron’s most trusted brought me,”
“War’s over,” Prowl returned. “Megatron surrendered, fostered a peace treaty with Prime.”
“Megatron was weak then, I intend not to make the same mistake,” Onslaught commented dismissively socking Prowl across the jaw. “You do have this saving bots thing, don’t you? You’re trying to save me, you tried to save Darksteel and you tried to save Steeljaw. Such a foolish notion. What chance do you have of bringing me back to Cybertron… alive?”
“None… None at all.” Prowl whispered before pulling out his gun and fired at Onslaught striking him directly in the chest. Onslaught roared out in rage and pain, before opening a Groundbridge and grabbing Swindle he tossed him through it. Onslaught was soon to take his leave.
“Commander, I can’t…” Perceptor shouted over the sound of explosions and weapons discharge. “I can’t get the anti-gravs back online. We’re going down…”
“Then so be it. Charter us a course, find us the safest landing spot,” Prowl ordered even as he looked out a window to see the small blue orb rapidly approaching them. “If we must continue our war on another world, so be it.”
Prowl awoke from his recharge with a start. It started out so simple, humans just simply asking them to play by their rules and keep their planet intact. Well, it seemed as of late, Prowl mused as he clenched his fist, the rules had just changed.
Unknown Location:
Once Juniper had heard of the government officially commissioning a branch of the army known only as Cemetery Wind to hunt down the criminals known as ‘Autobots’, she knew it wouldn’t exactly take a genius to figure who was connected to them and helping them.
Small wonder she’d resorted to drastic measures to find a place for her and Feral Steel to lay low. The Autobots had scattered, to all manners of the globe now that they were on the run not just from the Decepticons but the American government as well.
While she and Xiraia were hardly on the best of terms being distant cousins only had only ever met at family reunions, the DJ/Conspiracy theorist was only too happy to help as she held no real love for certain administrations. So, that’s how both Feral Steel, -using a light bender to masquerade as Juniper’s father, some high ranking government official ironically enough- Trixie, Juniper and the dead body of Stinger found themselves crashing at this junkyard which Xiraia had made a home base.
“Man, I don’t get it,” Trixie sighed to herself as she popped open a can of some fizzy drink. Jimi Hendrix’s version of the Star Spangled Banner blared somewhere in the background. “Trixie just does not get it! Why would the government suddenly turn on the Autobots?”
“Decepticons, it’s in the name innit?” Xiraia commented. Turns out she did have a surprising amount of knowledge about machinery, and so was quite able to help Juniper with her little pet project if you will. “I mean, they scream deceivers don’t they?”
“...Which makes whoever commissioned this Cemetery Wind crap extremely dumb in Trixie’s honest to god opinion. And where’s Fowler, and the rest of them? Aren’t they supposed to be the Autobots’ liaisons with the Feds?”
“Could have been bought off… or silenced,” Xiraia shrugged as Feral Steel handed her some wires before she petted the wolfish Predacon on his head. “Just sayin’.” the young woman remarked, her already dark skin covered in oil making it even seem all the more blacker, more sun-kissed.
“No, Fowler would never-”
“Kid,” Xiraia remarked. “You’re going to have to face some cold hard facts, some cold hard reality here soon. The world’s not all black or white, not all good or evil. Deny it as much as you like, but these friends of yours… They may have turned on you. Look, I can’t speak for you, as I’ve never met them, so I have to operate on a degree of skepticism, capiche?” she asked, a taser in her back pocket. Just in case any unwelcome guests came calling. Or Xiraia’s landlord. The woman was behind on payments, and from what Juniper had figured out and from what Xiraia had told her he was a real dick.
“So what are you exactly doing anyways?” Trixie asked Juniper.
“Tired of feeling useless, tired of sitting on the sidelines only being this movie buff whose only real contribution is just educating your robotic friends on pop culture,” the former gofer had replied, Stinger’s body having been lifted up on two cranes. “So, time to make myself useful. Hardly a rocket scientist here, but my cuz? That’s a different story. Plus, got Feral Steel here to help. ...Although understanding him may take some work.”
“...Wish Trixie had your courage,” Trixie muttered. “To stand up and do what’s right.”
Xiraia smiled and placed a hand on Trixie’s shoulder. “Ever read To Kill a Mockingbird? Great book. There’s this quote in there I really love. It goes: “I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.” That’s what you should strive for, listen to old Finch. You started this as soon as you and your girlfriend joined up with the Autobots, and saved that bird. There is no are you in or are you out now, not this far in. You’ve got to see this through to the end, wherever the path may lead, capiche?”
“Trixie… Trixie understands,” the guitarist said with a small slow nod of her head before she looked at Xiraia in curiosity. “Okay, just asking, but why are you helping us anyways? Besides the anti-establishment leanings? I mean, what do you get out of all of this?”
“Besides proof that all my theories about alien life existing being true? Not much, I’ll admit,” Xiraia replied. “But I’m doing this anyways, not because I want riches beyond the imagination or anything like that, but simply because it’s just the right thing to do. A family’s got to stick together after all…” she trailed off, looking towards Juniper.
“Almost… done!” Juniper grunted out as she slammed her Master Braces together and was covered with a crimson armor not unlike the bodysuits the other girls used as Targetmasters. Mind you, this one had some crucial differences, such as missing any obvious parts that would have indicated the suit changing into some sort of weapon. “See, told you with just a bit of Cybertronian know-how we’d be able to make this thing useful!” she exclaimed, patting Stinger’s leg strut.
“What exactly did you do to him… It… whatever?” Xiraia asked curiously, an eyebrow raised.
“Always had a fascination with mecha and the like, so this is me taking things to their logical conclusion,” Juniper smirked. “Still, if I’m going to use that,” she continued pointing to Stinger’s headless body behind her. “We are so getting a new alternate mode aside from that damn podunk Camaro. I like something a little bit classier, ya know?”
Barking, Feral Steel tapped a button and brought up the internet, specifically a web page dedicated to Italian sports cars…
Miles away, at CHS Celestia found herself sighing. Several of her students, including Twilight Sparkle, hadn’t shown up for classes in over a week, and she was beginning to get worried.
She eyed this cross between a pickup and a Ford Falcon pulling up outside her school, with this man in a black suit and coat stepping out of the truck-like vehicle.
Celestia stepped out of her office to see the man striding towards her, placing his sunglasses in a side pocket with her students stepping right out of his way. She would actually later compare them to scared animals, trying to run and hide from this larger predator. Celestia let out a small snarl, her students were like her family, sometimes like her children. Every alarm bell in her head was ringing, and she wanted to get this guy out of her school as soon as possible.
“James Savoy,” the man introduced himself, flashing a badge but so quickly Celestia couldn’t even get an idea of which organization he worked for. “May we talk in your office ma’am?”
“Yes… I suppose,” Celestia murmured, wanting to get this guy off of school grounds as soon as possible. “Can I just ask, why are you here?”
“Several of your students, gone missing in the past week and a half,” Savoy replied in this somewhat friendly somewhat half gruff tone. “Been getting a few calls of concern. Just call me a concerned citizen. World’s a bit different nowadays, rougher. Meaner.”
“If you’re talking about these giant alien robots, then I’m quite well aware of them Mr. Savoy,” Celestia remarked as she sat behind her desk eyeing Savoy like a hawk as he looked through the bookshelf to the side of her. She thought him a shark honestly, that’s what kind of predator she’d compare him to. A shark searching for any form of blood in the water, any sign of weakness from her. “But I’ve heard the government has a task force dedicated to dealing with them am I correct?”
In truth, she didn’t trust Cemetery Wind one jot. Seemed like there was something they weren’t telling the public, something they were holding back.
“Yes, and rest assured we’re taking care of things so you don’t have to worry,” Savoy replied. Every so often, Celestia noticed Savoy checked his phone. With his back turned, it was impossible to see what he was looking at. If she could have seen, Celestia would have been horrified. Savoy was watching a chase in New Orleans dockside areas from a drone’s perspective, with soldiers armed with special bullets created from studies of Shatter and Dropkick chasing down Hubcap who despite managing to get away for a short period in his vehicle mode was blown apart by a missile from Shatter. No mercy was given, no quarter was offered. No chances for surrender. “You have family Celestia?” Savoy asked.
Celestia shuddered slightly, although if Savoy noticed he didn’t react. “Yes, of course, I do. Don’t we all?”
“Yes, quite. We all have a family. I’m just trying to protect mine as well as yours. Listen, I need to know where those students of yours might have run off to. It’s vital to-”
“The US Government’s wishes?” Celestia asked, her voice as hard as steel as she strode towards Savoy with all the grace of an angry swan. “You know Savoy, I’d actually like you to leave now.”
“I assure you, ma’am, I intend nobody any harm, especially not the lives of young girls who are only just starting out!” Savoy replied no scared of Celestia in the slightest. She was just a teacher after all, what could she actually do to him? Admittedly, a whole lot if she had access to his phone, which was why he’d pocketed it quite quickly when she wasn’t looking. “There is nothing you need to fear, I’m just here to help.”
“And I’ve studied history,” Celestia replied. “Hell, I actually taught history before moving up a tier. So you’ll excuse me if I don’t trust you entirely when you phrase your doings in such a manner.”
Savoy never lost his nerve, a testament to him really. An angry Celestia was hard to deal with in any situation, and a protective one even more so. “It’s not their planet. Never was. Time we take it back,” he thought towards the Autobots. All he just wanted was to prevent alien war, and if that meant siding with some of the aliens themselves then so be it. They said themselves as peacekeepers, and while the higher-ups may have believed that he didn’t, not in the slightest. It was in the name after all.
“I understand your distrust, so I won’t bother you any further. But any information you have, call this number,” Savoy said laying a piece of paper on Celestia’s desk before taking his leave. After he did so, Celestia shuddered once more, feeling as if she now needed to take a shower feeling rather unclean after her talk with Savoy. Her eyes then drifted towards her phone, and she picked it up and dialed a number. There was someone she needed to call.
Savoy meanwhile, walked towards Dropkick and pulled out his phone and pulled up another camera, where he watched Fowler in chains being poked and prodded at by Swindle. Savoy, for a brief moment, wondered if this was really the right thing to do before that doubt passed. No, this was the way things had to be. He had to protect Earth, and so he relied on that old phrase. The enemy of my enemy was his friend.
“Now tell me…” Swindle asked with an unnerving gleam in his purple optics as he looked Fowler dead in the eye, an absolutely evil smirk cast upon his face. “Where are the remaining Autobots, and where are those human girls…?”