Chapter Text
The central plaza of the city of Iacon was nearly filled to the brim. Autobots from all around had gathered to witness the arrival of the team that, supposedly, had finally captured Megatron and recovered the long-lost AllSpark. Some were skeptical, but others were excited by the prospect of a return to peace on Cybertron. A few even made banners, which were swiftly unfurled as the space bridge opened over them.
A red and orange Autobot warship flew out from the sphere of blue energy, and descended into the square. The ship’s side door opened, deploying an escalator to ground level. The crowd cheered as Megatron and his two comrades, Lugnut and Shockwave, were led down the escalator in stasis cuffs by Optimus Prime, followed by a trio of long lost protoforms, guarded by a small orange figure. At the back of the procession were four more Autobots, carrying an open casket. Inside was the grayed body of an Autobot dressed in cyber-samurai armor. The Autobots stood before the adoring crowd, Optimus proudly carrying both the Magnus Hammer in his hand, and the remnants of the AllSpark in a container around his neck.
The cheering ceased, however, when the ship itself began to transform. Rising up to the height of even the tallest buildings in the city was the titanic guardian robot Omega Supreme. For a moment, the sight of this unstoppable war machine terrified the crowd into total silence. But their fear quickly turned to awe, and they began to cheer again for the team of heroes that stood before them.
So depicted a newsreel, which was now shown in a small frame next to the Autobot newscaster Uplink on video displays across Cybertron.
“The rumors are true, ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a bombastic tone, “The AllSpark has been returned to Cybertron, and Megatron is finally behind bars. The hero responsible for all of this is none other than Optimus Prime, commander of a Space Bridge Maintenance Unit that uncovered the AllSpark’s resting place after a bridge accident. When their find was discovered by the Decepticons, they were chased into a space bridge and crashed on a hostile organic world known as Earth.”
“Well, to be totally honest, it was far from a single-handed effort,” Optimus said in an on-the-spot interview clip that was now being shown on the screen. “I couldn’t have done any of it without the help of my team. Especially not... without Prowl.”
“The sole Autobot casualty of this conflict,” Uplink explained in voiceover, “was Prowl, a former student of the late Cyber-Ninja Master Yoketron. According to Elite Guard Cyber-Ninja Jazz, Prowl lost his spark reconstituting the dispersed AllSpark.”
“It was a brave thing that Prowl did,” said Jazz in his own on-the-spot interview. “I don’t know of many others who would’ve made that sacrifice. But I’m sure that his spark is resting easy knowing that at least some of the protoforms taken from us long ago are in safe hands once again.”
“Of course, it’s not all good news for our returning Autobots,” Uplink continued, “as they returned home with a surprise tag-along. A techno-organic hybrid creature known as Sari Sumdac, created from the contamination of a stray protoform with human DNA. It seems the people of Cybertron aren’t sure what to make of this... unique being.”
“I don’t quite know how to describe it,” one Autobot being interviewed on the street said, “there’s just something off-putting about the idea.”
“It scares me,” said another Autobot in another interview. “I know that organic life is already dangerous, but mixing it with Cybertronian technology? Who knows what that thing’s capable of!”
“Look, I’ve got nothing against organics in general,” another Autobot said, “but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with just anything waltzing in and mingling with Transformers before we’ve had a chance to properly study it. Especially something as unusual as this Sari creature.”
“As for the captured Decepticons,” Uplink continued back in the studio, “they are presently being held in Trypticon Prison, awaiting trial for the numerous criminal charges leveled against them. The trial of Megatron, in particular, remains one of the most highly anticipated events on Cybertron today. We will continue to report on this story as it develops.”
Despite the jubilation the Cybertronian populous felt over the capture of Megatron and the return of the AllSpark, the mood within Fortress Maximus was much more somber, as Optimus, still trying to process Prowl's sacrifice, stood next to an infirmary bed alongside Sentinel Prime, Alpha Trion, and Perceptor. Lying on the bed was Ultra Magnus, still badly damaged and hooked up to a spark support machine. Perceptor scanned the Autobot commander with his shoulder scope.
“The situation is worse than anticipated,” Perceptor droned. “Ultra Magnus’s spark is fading. It seems the wounds are... fatal.”
Alpha Trion sighed grimly, and Optimus moved in closer to the bed. Sentinel, meanwhile, didn’t seem to react at all.
“Perhaps a jumpstart will restart the healing process,” Perceptor continued. “The probability is low, but above zero.”
Optimus looked at the Magnus Hammer, still in his hand. He gently tapped it on the ground, and a small amount of electricity surged across the head.
“At least I’ll have been able to return it to him before...” Optimus’s thought trailed off. He held the Hammer out in front of him, placing it between the fingers of Ultra Magnus’s remaining hand.
Another surge of electricity rushed up Ultra Magnus’s arm and across his spark chamber. His eyes slowly flickered to life, and scanned his surroundings. He saw Perceptor scanning him, Alpha Trion looking ponderous, Sentinel standing near the door, and Optimus’s hand still resting on the handle of the Hammer.
“Optimus?” he asked.
“Forgive me, Commander,” Optimus responds, pulling his hand away as if from a hot iron. “I had to... borrow the Hammer to defeat Megatron. I wasn’t sure when the right time to return it would be, but... now seemed to be the best chance I had.”
“I understand, Optimus,” Ultra Magnus said. “What you have done is... inspiring to say the least. I once told you that being a hero wasn’t in your programming. I’ve never been more pleased to be wrong. You truly are worthy to bear the name of Optimus Prime.”
“Commander,” Perceptor interjected, “the jumpstart didn’t work. Your spark is still fading.”
“Then I suppose my time has come,” Ultra Magnus said.
“No, Ultra Magnus!” Optimus said, “You can’t die now!”
“Do not grieve for me, Optimus,” Ultra Magnus said. “Soon, I shall be one with the AllSpark. It is time for a new leader to rise from our ranks. One who can inspire all Cybertronians, and guide us through even our darkest hours.”
Ultra Magnus extends his hand back out from the table, presenting the Hammer back to Optimus.
“Until the day... ‘til all are one.”
Magnus’s grip on the hammer failed, and Optimus hurried to catch it, just barely preventing it from touching the ground.
Then the monitors went dead.
Then Ultra Magnus’s eyes flickered back into darkness.
The color drained from Ultra Magnus’s exostructure, bright whites and blues giving way to dull grays and blacks. The Autobot Commander’s head fell limply to one side, and he was no more.
“Excuse me,” Sentinel said flatly, “I... need a moment.”
Sentinel stepped out the door, leaving Optimus alone with Alpha Trion and Perceptor.
“So what happens now?” Optimus said, “I mean... I thought Sentinel would—”
“As Ultra Magnus’s lieutenant, Sentinel took on the role of acting Magnus while he was incapacitated,” Alpha Trion explained. “But with the office of Magnus now truly vacant, things are different. Now, it falls to the High Council to determine who will officially take Ultra Magnus’s place. His wishes must be considered, but so must the wishes of the public.”
Alpha Trion did not realize that, just on the other side of the door, Sentinel was still standing outside, hiding just past the frame and listening in on their conversation.
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he muttered.
“You know,” Sari said, “when I said I missed a lot of things about living on Earth, Tutor-Bot was not one of them.”
Standing at the front of the classroom where Sari sat, Arcee gathered a stack of holograph tablets on a large desk.
“Now, Sari, this is going to be good for both of us,” Arcee explained. “You get to learn some more about your Cybertronian heritage, while I get to practice my teaching skills for when the protoforms we recovered are brought online.”
“Yeah, I’m sure this is gonna be amazing,” Sari snarked under her breath.
“Speaking of protoforms, that’s the subject of our first lesson.” Arcee continued, pressing a button on the large board at the front of the room. A picture appeared on the board, showing some molecular diagrams on one side, and a photographic map of a metal canyon on the other.
“Protoforms are constructed from a substance known as protomatter,” she explained. “This rare metal is only found in one region of the planet, deep in the Sonic Canyons. It’s believed that the rarefied Energon near the planet’s core mixes with the metals in the mantle, creating a sort of living metal.”
Arcee pressed another button, and the screen switched to a photograph of a protoform mold, with a Bumblebee-type Autobot standing next to it for scale reference. Next to it, there was a picture of protoforms in the Matrix Chamber of the Cyber-Ninja Dojo, bathing in its light.
“The protomatter is then injected into a shell that molds them into the general shape of a Transformer,” she continued. “From there, it spends several stellar cycles incubating in the light of a Matrix Chamber. This keeps the metal in a semisolid state, and infuses it with life energy. Both of these are necessary to prepare the protoform for the final stage of the creation process...”
Arcee pressed the same button again, and the screen switched to an image of the AllSpark in its original housing.
“Spark infusion,” she said. “Once the protoform has absorbed enough Matrix energy, it is ready to be granted the spark of life. This is done by the AllSpark, an artifact so ancient that its origins are unknown to Cybertronian history. Some believe that it predates the existence of the planet itself, if not the entire universe. All that is known for sure is that it is capable of creating new sparks, and infusing them into protoforms. Once the spark is infused, the protoform takes on a new shape, based on the source code embedded in the spark’s unique energy signatures, creating a completely new and unique Transformer.”
Arcee advanced to the next slide, which showed pictures of several Transformers, all sharing one of three body-types: the subcompact type used by Bumblebee, the fighter jet type used by Starscream and his clones, and the Autotrooper type shared by Ratchet and Ironhide. But by this point, Sari had just about tuned out Arcee’s lesson, and was staring vacantly at random items around the classroom.
“Of course, the source code of a spark can be overridden in a process called cold construction. If the physical attributes of a particular model are desired for one purpose or another, such as energy efficiency or physical durability, the protomatter may be cast into predesigned parts, which are then assembled into—”
Suddenly, Sari noticed the subcompact models on the screen. After a double-take, she raised her hand.
“Um, Miss Arcee?” she interjected, stopping Arcee mid-sentence. “Can I see the protoform mold again, please?”
“Of course!” Arcee said cheerfully, skipping back to the slide in question.
Sari studied the image of the protoform mold next to the subcompact model Autobot. Next to them, the cavity image of the protoform mold was at least as tall.
“Miss Arcee, are all protoforms that big? Or do they make smaller versions?”
“All protoforms are a uniform size. Why do you ask?”
“Well, the protoform I was made from... Dad said that it was pretty small, like... well, like a human child. But if all protoforms are as big as Bumblebee, then... there’s no way one would’ve even fit inside his lab, let alone been that small.”
“Hmm, that shouldn’t be possible. But I suppose that there could’ve been some... anomalies in the manufacturing process.”
Great, Sari thought, so I guess I was a freak from the day I was molded.
“Another question,” Sari asked. “Have there been any other times when a protoform absorbed organic DNA?”
“None that I’m aware of,” Arcee answered. “Then again, any sort of organic activity is rare on Cybertron. But given the known properties of protomatter, that shouldn’t be possible either.”
“Then... what am I?”
Inside the dimly lit space of the Intelligence Guild Headquarters, Sentinel stood before Cliffjumper Prime, exchanging words in harsh tones.
“With all due respect, Acting Magnus,” Cliffjumper said disrespectfully, “I simply cannot condone this course of action. It goes against everything Cybertron Intelligence stands for!”
“The war is not over yet, Cliffjumper,” Sentinel said. “And it won’t be over until Megatron has officially faced justice for everything he’s done to us. And this is the only way to make that happen.”
“What is?”
Sentinel whipped his head around to see Optimus leaning in through the open doorway, an inquisitive look on his face.
“Something that you don’t have the security clearance for, Optimus,” Sentinel answered. “Go fix up a spacebridge while the real heroes handle this.”
“Sentinel, if this has anything to do with Megatron’s trial, I have a right to know about it,” Optimus said as he stepped into the room. “Need I remind you that I am the one who brought Megatron into custody in the first place?”
“A stroke of dumb luck. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still just a maintenance bot.”
“It’s alright, Sentinel,” Cliffjumper interrupted. “Optimus Prime, I hereby grant you full access to all intelligence related to the trial of Megatron, classified or otherwise, on the condition that you agree not to share any of this information without express permission from the Head of Intelligence.”
“Since when do you have that level of authority, Cliffjumper?” Sentinel asked.
“Since the day that you named me Head of Intelligence, Acting Magnus,” Cliffjumper reminded him.
“Well, as Acting Magnus, I say—”
“Don’t start, Sentinel,” Optimus said. “Cliffjumper, I agree to secrecy.”
“Very well then,” Cliffjumper said. “Come and see what Sentinel has cooked up.”
Optimus walked over to where Sentinel and Cliffjumper were standing, while Cliffjumper punched some keys on the main table. A big screen flashed to life in front of them, showing a set of schematics for two different robots made from the same parts. Scrawled across the top of the schematics were the words “PROJECT: DOUBLESPY”.
“Sentinel,” Optimus gasped, “is that... what I think it is?”
“What? You think only the Decepticons know how to reverse-engineer?” Sentinel said, “Once we had Shockwave in custody, it was easy enough to figure out his tricks.”
“But Sentinel... spying during a time of peace—”
“This isn’t peacetime, Optimus,” Sentinel said. “Until we’re absolutely certain that Megatron won’t be walking free ever again, he’ll always be a threat to Cybertron and our way of life. And we need to act accordingly.”
“But don’t you think this could potentially provoke the Decepticons? Is that really something you want to risk so soon?”
“Gripe all you want, but the plan is already in motion. Punch!” Sentinel called out.
Out from a dark corner emerged a small orange and blue Autobot with red hands and a black helmet.
“At your service, sir,” he said with a dramatic bow. His voice was bright and loud, “What are your directions?”
“Punch, I’d like to introduce you to Cliffjumper Prime,” Sentinel said. “He’s the head of Cybertron Intelligence, and your immediate superior.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Cliffjumper,” Punch said, extending a hand to shake. Cliffjumper reluctantly shook it, while Optimus watched with confusion.
“Punch is an acting unit,” Sentinel explained. “I figured his particular set of skills would be useful when infiltrating the Decepticon ranks. Oh, and I guess I should also introduce you to—”
“Optimus Prime?” Punch exclaimed, “Oh, it is such an honor to meet you, sir!”
Punch raced up to Optimus and frantically shook his hand.
“Um, thank you,” Optimus said, looking awkwardly around the room.
“Hey, Punch,” Sentinel said, “how about a demonstration of your new upgrades?”
“Oh, yes sir!”
Punch let go of Optimus’s hand and stepped away. Once he was in sight of all three, he raised his arms up, turned in a circle, and in one seamless motion, transformed into an almost completely different robot. His orange parts had almost completely disappeared, and his optics now shone through a red visor over his blue mouthplate. Even his legs had reconfigured themselves to increase his height to Decepticon proportions.
“What do you think?” Sentinel said, “Pretty convincing, isn’t it?”
Optimus and Cliffjumper looked on with more than slight apprehension as Punch glared down at them from his new height.
“It seems I have your attention, Autobrats,” he said, his voice deeper and more guttural this time. “Good, I look forward to seeing Megatron crush you with his bare hands.”
“Excellent work, am I right?” Sentinel said, stepping in front of Punch.
“Y-yes, very good...” Cliffjumper said, “Punch, drop the act!”
On Cliffjumper’s command, Punch reverted to his orange robot mode.
“Okay, now let’s go over your cover story one more time,” Sentinel said. “What’s your name?”
“Counterpunch,” Punch replied, still doing the voice.
“Where were you built?”
“In Tesarus.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“I used to be a racing bot, but now I’d like to join the Decepticons as an intelligence agent.”
“What sort of races?”
“Drag racing. It was a pretty underground operation, so you won’t see my name in any record books, but I once completed a half-hic race in twelve nanoclicks.”
“Impressive,” Sentinel turned back to Optimus and Cliffjumper. “See? We’ve covered all our bases. There’s no way this can go wrong. Punch will infiltrate the Decepticon ranks, get us some dirt on Megatron, and before we know it, the Decepticons will be in energon chains for the rest of their lives.”
“But you’ll be violating several standards for interplanetary diplomacy and sentient rights in the process,” Optimus said. “Sentinel, I cannot support this in good conscience.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t need your support, Optimus.” Sentinel turned to Punch, “Are you ready for deployment?”
“Just say the word, commander, and I’ll be off!” Punch said.
“Wonderful. I’ll have a ship ready for you in a deca-cycle,” Sentinel said. “You’re dismissed.”
“Thank you, sir!”
Punch walked out of the room, and Sentinel glared at Optimus.
“Now there’s a bot who knows his place,” he said. “You two could learn a thing or two from him.”
Optimus gave one last pleaful look to his old friend, then turned and walked out of the room.
Ratchet sat at a massive workbench, looking intently through his optic lens as he performed some careful soldering. His focus was so strong, one might have thought he was in some kind of trance.
That is, until the door to the shop slammed open, causing a pile of junk parts to clatter to the floor.
“What in the ever-slagging—” Ratchet started.
“Sorry! Sorry!” Sari said as she flew into his field of view, hovering with her jetpack, “The door was just so heavy, and by the time I got it to move, I was pushing so hard that—”
“Oh, it’s fine, Sari,” he said, his tone softer. “Just knock next time, that’s all I ask.”
“Right,” Sari flew over to the workbench and landed on the surface. “Um, what are you working on?”
“Just a gift for Arcee. Here, let me show you.”
Ratchet grabbed a metal object from the side of the workbench, a metal rectangle small enough for him to curl his servos around. He turned to face Sari, and pointed it at the work surface in front of her. He squeezed a trigger on the device, and a beam of blue light shot out, illuminating the table.
“You... built a laser pointer?” Sari asked.
“Well, Arcee’s gonna need some for her presentations, isn’t she?” Ratchet responded, “And if there’s an emergency...”
Ratchet flicked a lever on the device with his thumb, and the beam of light retracted and reformed into a glowing blue blade, turning the laser pointer into a laser sword.
“Okay, that’s cool.” Sari said.
“Figured you’d appreciate that part,” Ratchet said as he set the device down. “So, what brings you to this old rust-bucket?”
“Well, I’ve just been thinking... you know a lot of stuff, you’ve seen a lot of stuff, maybe you could help me figure some things out?”
“I can certainly try.”
“That protoform that I was made from... the one my Dad said he found in his lab... have you ever heard of anything like that?”
Ratchet leaned back in his chair and scratched the rust on his chin.
“Not that I can remember,” he said, “And believe me, the Autobots experimented quite a lot with protoforms during the Great War.”
“Well, can you at least give me something?” Sari asked, “I’ve been thinking about this all day, I even went to a library, and I still have zero clue about where I came from!”
Ratchet looked down at his hand and scratched his chin some more.
“You know, there is one thing that’s been puzzling me...”
Ratchet opened up his backpack and reached inside, eventually pulling out a small object. Something Sari hadn’t seen in months, yet instantly recognized. A small, gray key with circuit traces all across its surface, hanging from a black cloth lanyard.
“My key?” Sari asked, “But I thought it didn’t work anymore. That all its power had gone into me.”
“That’s true,” Ratchet said. “But the part that confuses me is the design. I’ve seen this exact design before.”
“You have? Where?”
“It looks exactly like the activation key to Vector Sigma, the ancient supercomputer that, according to legend, contains records dating back to when Cybertron and its people were new.”
“Of course! The AllSpark must’ve made my key in the shape of Vector Sigma’s as a clue! The answer to where I came from has to be in Vector Sigma’s files!”
“Now, don’t go gettin’ ahead of yourself, kiddo. Vector Sigma is a relic itself. You can’t just access its data tracks whenever you want. Only one bot on Cybertron holds the Key to Vector Sigma, and that’s Alpha Trion. If you want to know what Vector Sigma knows, you need to go through him, and he doesn’t let just anybody use it whenever they want.”
“Then I’ll go to Alpha Trion! I’ll convince him to let me use Vector Sigma to learn my origins, then everything will make sense!”
Sari’s jetpack ignited once more, and she rocketed straight for the door. She turned back to face Ratchet.
“Thank you so much,” she said, “you’ve been a big help!”
Ratchet smiled.
“Good luck, kiddo!”
Sari flew out of the workshop, and Ratchet stood up to close the door behind her.
“You’re gonna need it,” he muttered.
Before he could close it all the way, however, an orange hand grabbed the door from the outside and pulled it back open. The bot on the other side looked like a slimmer, more futuristic version of Ratchet, with a helmet like a Roman soldier.
“Ironhide?” Ratchet asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I have orders from Acting Magnus Sentinel Prime,” Ironhide said. “You are to report to the Metroplex right away.”
“And just what does that big-chinned slimeball want from me?”
“I’m afraid I can’t answer that question right now. Word of this project is not to leave the Elite Guard’s facilities.”
“Well, alright then. Let’s get this over with.”
Ratchet transformed into his ambulance mode, and Ironhide in turn transformed into his own treaded transport mode. The two drove off together towards the large white citadel in the distance.
Ironhide and Ratchet drove up a ramp and turned into a long tunnel.
“I remember this place...” Ratchet said. “Wait, you’re not taking me back... here...”
Ratchet was left speechless as the two drove onto a narrow catwalk that spanned a room full of empty scaffolds and large elevated platforms. They were in the same lab used for Project Omega, now decrepit from millions of years of disuse.
“Why did you bring me here?” Ratchet demanded as he returned to robot form.
“Because I ordered him to, obviously,” said a familiar voice from behind him.
Ratchet turned around to see Sentinel Prime standing next to the lab’s entrance. He snarled at the sight of the blue Autobot.
“Now you listen here, Sentinel,” Ratchet started, “I don’t know what you’re cooking up here, but I have no interest in being part of another one of the Elite Guard’s war machines.”
“Don’t worry, Ratchet,” Sentinel said in a suave tone. “I can personally assure you that Project: Powermaster will see zero wartime use.”
“And how can you be so sure of that yourself?”
“Because no bot who sees it will be stupid enough to make war against it. Come, meet your colleagues.”
Sentinel placed a hand on Ratchet’s back, which was swiftly swatted away.
“I am quite capable of moving on my own, thank you very much,” Ratchet growled.
Sentinel rolled his optics and led Ratchet to one of the higher platforms. Standing on it was Perceptor, flanked by two other Autobots: one a white mech, with green and red stripes and a walrus-like faux-mustache; the other a white femme, with a red face, large hip skirts, and a probe-like device in place of her left hand.
“As you can see, I’ve assembled the best and brightest scientists on Cybertron for this project,” Sentinel said. “Spared no expense.”
“Nice to see you again, Wheeljack,” Ratchet grumbled insincerely. “And you must be Red Alert, the gal that single-handedly cured GPS. Um, pardon my choice of words.”
“No offense taken, Ratchet,” Red Alert said. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
Red Alert extended her remaining servo, and Ratchet shook it.
“Well, now that introductions are out of the way,” Sentinel said, “allow me to debrief you about the reason I’ve gathered you here. Project: Powermaster. As you all know, Cybertron is experiencing some complicated times. We have just won a great victory over the Decepticons, but at the same time have lost one of our greatest leaders. We are entering a new era of Cybertronian history, and to signify this, we need a leader who can—”
“Quit flapping your mouthplates and get to the point!” Ratchet yelled.
Sentinel sighed. “Fine. Your task is to build me a suit of armor to inspire the respect and awe of all Cybertronians, Autobot or Decepticon. It needs to provide its wearer with enhanced strength, speed, and firepower. Oh, and it also needs to be able to fly.”
“Compensating for something, are we?” Ratchet murmured.
“I’ll divert any and all necessary resources to this project. Now, get to work! I expect to see a working prototype within a deca-cycle.”
Sentinel turned and exited the lab without another word.
“Sure, and maybe we can turn lead into energon while we’re at it,” Ratchet scoffed.
Sari stood in front of a massive black door. She took a deep breath and deployed her jetpack. She flew up to the control panel, adjusted her thrusters for stability, and kicked the “OPEN” button. The door slid into the wall, and Sari flew into the room. It was a small space, at least on the scale of everything else on Cybertron, with three chairs on either side of the door, and a desk on the opposite wall, next to another door. At the desk sat a dark blue femme, who was staring at the door with a confused expression. As Sari flew up to the desk, the blue robot seemed to flinch.
“Hi!” Sari said, “I don’t have an appointment or anything, but I’d like to speak to Alpha Trion.”
“Oh, I’m afraid that he’s been rather busy lately,” the receptionist-bot said. “If you could tell me what you’d like to talk to him about, I can direct you to one of his staff members.”
“Well, you see, I need access to Vector Sigma.”
The mention of the name caused the receptionist to freeze in place, as if she’d seen a ghost.
“...One second, please,” the receptionist said before leaning over to a microphone. “Alpha Trion, there’s... someone here who wants to access Vector Sigma.”
“Who is it?” a voice crackled over the speaker.
“Sari Sumdac of Earth,” Sari said.
“Right,” the receptionist said. “The... organic hybrid.”
The receptionist pressed the intercom button again.
“It’s Sari Sumdac,” she said. “The organic hybrid from Earth.”
“Send her in.”
“Yes, sir,” the receptionist looked back up at Sari. “Do be quick, please.”
The receptionist pushed a button on the desk, and the door to Sari’s right opened.
“Thanks,” Sari said halfheartedly before flying through.
On the other side of the door, Sari found the room clad entirely in green metal, with random mechanical structures scattered around. At a large desk in the center of the room sat Alpha Trion himself, gazing idly between screens spread out across the surface.
“Sari Sumdac, I presume?” the old bot said.
“Um, yes... sir, Alpha Trion, your...” Sari stammered.
“Let’s skip the formalities. Now, you say you want to access Vector Sigma?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you should know that I don’t just grant access to Vector Sigma freely. So, if you don’t mind me asking, what information do you seek?”
“I want to know where I came from.”
“I thought you were from planet Earth.”
“No, I mean how I was created. All I know is that my Dad found a tiny protoform in his lab, that it absorbed his DNA when he touched it, and that I was created from that. I don’t know how that protoform came to exist, how it ended up there, why it absorbed his DNA, or... anything, really.”
“That certainly is a strange set of circumstances. Have you sought information from other sources?”
“Well, I talked to some friends who I hoped would know. Arcee, my teacher, and Ratchet, who’s the oldest and smartest bot I knew. Or, at least he was before I met you.”
“That’s all?”
“Well, Ratchet told me something that led me to Vector Sigma. Back on Earth, when I first met the Autobots, the AllSpark gave me this.”
Sari held up her key. Alpha Trion held out his hand, and Sari set the key down in it. He lifted a magnification device to his optic and looked closely at the key.
“By Primus, it’s an exact match to Vector Sigma’s key! It’s much smaller, of course, but still... and you say the AllSpark gave this to you?”
“Yeah. I think it’s a clue. That the AllSpark made it this way on purpose, so that I would know where to look for answers when the time came.”
“I think you’re right.”
Alpha Trion handed the key back to Sari, then pressed a button underneath his desk. A panel opened up on the back wall of the office, revealing a gold receptacle housing a similarly-colored key. A key that bore a striking resemblance to Sari’s key.
Alpha Trion took the key out from the receptacle, and presented it to Sari.
“Sari Sumdac, this is the Key to Vector Sigma,” Alpha Trion said. “Promise me that you will take great care when handling it. For it is as old as Cybertron itself, and holds within it unimaginable power.”
“I won’t let you down, Alpha Trion.”
Sari placed her hand on the Key’s blade, and the device appeared to collapse in on itself, shrinking down until it was small enough to fit in her relatively tiny hands.
“So, where is Vector Sigma, exactly?” Sari asked.
“Oh, even I can’t tell you that,” Alpha Trion said. “Vector Sigma lies at the heart of a labyrinth deep within the planet. Even if I knew where it was, I wouldn’t be able to tell you how to get there. But don’t worry, the Key will guide you. Now, unless you have any further business with me, I have a trial to prepare for.”
“Of course,” Sari said. “Thank you for helping me!”
With that, Sari blasted off and flew towards the door.
Meanwhile, at Fortress Maximus, Sentinel was also preparing for the trial. Poring over evidence documents as he typed up his opening statement. He was interrupted by an alert on the screen: “INCOMING TRANSMISSION FROM DOUBLESPY”. Sentinel pressed a button, and Counterpunch appeared on the screen.
“What have you found?” Sentinel asked.
“General Strika is assembling her forces,” Counterpunch said in Punch’s voice. “I suspect she may be planning an attack. Target is presently unknown, will keep you posted.”
“Yeah, real helpful. Any updates on the Megatron case?”
“Um, nothing yet, sir, but I’ll keep looking.”
“Well you’d better get a move on. The trial is in less than a deca-cycle, and I need every bit of evidence I can get.”
“But, sir, I—” Punch started, before sighing, “Yes, sir.”
Sentinel cut the feed, and resumed work on his statement.
A large pair of doors slid open in front of Sari, and she stepped into a massive elevator. She looked around the four walls of the elevator car in confusion, then looked up and groaned.
“Ugh, again?” she said before activating her jetpack and flying up to the elevator control buttons. Each one was marked with a different number in the Cybertronian script.
“Oh, why didn’t I pay attention in Cybertronix class? Let’s see...”
Sari muttered under her breath, scanning the wall of buttons with her eyes until she reached the bottom.
“Looks like level 40 is the lowest it goes? Well then, let’s go.”
Sari flew down to the button marked with the Cybertronian number 40, and kicked it in. The elevator whirred to life, and the ceiling flew down at Sari, slamming flat against her back. The jetpack stalled from the impact, and she immediately fell back to the elevator floor. Sari sat up, rubbing her head before looking up at the level indicator. The numbers counted up by almost a second at a time. Level 20, 21, 22. Then 25. Then 30. Then finally, level 40, and the elevator stopped. The doors slid open, and Sari stumbled out into the dark, empty space.
“Well, I’m certainly gonna remember my seatbelt next time I go to Five Banners.”
Sari shook her head to regain her bearings, then reached into her pocket.
“So, you’re supposed to guide me, huh? Well, I’m already forty levels into the planet, and I still haven’t heard a...” Sari pulled the Key to Vector Sigma out of her pocket, and saw it faintly glowing in the darkness. “...peep...”
Sari gently waved the key around her, and the brightness of the glow changed. When she pointed it at a wide corridor in the distance, the entire room was bathed in yellow light.
“Okay then,” she said. “Lead the way.”
“All rise for the honorable Judge Alpha Trion!” shouted an orange and yellow Autobot standing at the front of the courtroom.
Everyone in the room followed his command, including Sentinel Prime, who stood behind one of the counsel tables. Directly behind him, in the gallery, were Optimus and his team. And behind the opposing counsel table stood Megatron, still bound in energon chains, yet maintaining a dignified stance as Alpha Trion stepped into the courtroom and walked behind the bench.
“Court is now in session,” the bailiff continued, “please be seated.”
Everyone did as he said, even Megatron.
“Planet Cybertron v. Megatron of Tarn. Alpha Trion presiding.”
“Thank you, Sandstorm,” Alpha Trion said. “Would the prosecution like to make an opening statement?”
Sentinel stood up.
“Yes, your honor. The defendant in this case has proven time and time again that he is a danger to Cybertron. Even in exile, he has plotted against the Autobot Commonwealth. He has planted spies in our ranks, attacked our space bridges, and even continued his efforts to steal the AllSpark, a course of action that directly led to the priceless artifact’s destruction. In total, the defendant stands accused of 14,786,384,212 counts of treason, 3,345,762,005 counts of terrorism, 56,000,743,830 counts of murder, and 882,927,682,288 other war crimes too numerous to list. Every one of these acts is documented in such detail that to challenge their truthfulness would be like challenging the number of moons of Cybertron. Given the magnitude of evidence, the defendant should consider himself lucky if he doesn’t end up on death row when this trial is over. That is all, your honor.”
Sentinel sat back down.
“Thank you, Sentinel,” Alpha Trion said. “Megatron?”
Megatron stood back up, “Yes, your honor?”
“You have elected to represent yourself, correct?”
“That is correct, your honor.”
“Alright. Now, do you understand the charges the prosecution has leveled against you?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“How do you plead?”
“Your honor. Is it a crime to seek freedom? Is it wrong to desire a return to your homeland? Is it treason to stand up for what is right?”
“Oh, for Primus’ sake, just answer the question!” Sentinel interjected.
“Prosecution is out of order,” Alpha Trion said, “Improper objection.”
Sentinel grumbled and sat back down.
“Megatron, I will ask again. Do you plead guilty or not?”
“Not guilty, your honor,” Megatron said.
“Very well, then,” Alpha Trion said. “Sentinel, would you care to present your case?”
Sentinel smirked at the invitation, “With pleasure, your honor.”
Sentinel reached under his desk, and pulled out a comically tall stack of data tablets.
Sari’s stride had grown sluggish as she made her way deeper into the planet’s core, both from fatigue and from the thicker air. As she reached the entrance to another passageway, she leaned against the wall and started panting.
“They’re really making me work for this, aren’t they?” She gasped.
Sari looked at the Key again. It was shining as bright as daylight.
“Well, at least I’m getting close.”
Sari pushed herself off the wall, but noticed something before she could get moving again. The walls of the passage she had just come from were pitted and corroded with rust, but the passage she was just entering was lined with pristine metal.
“Real close, by the look of things.”
Sari stepped into the passageway, and found herself having to shield her eyes against the light of the Key as she approached the end of the tunnel. As she crossed the threshold, the light seemed to dim, and she looked up to see that she was standing in a massive domed room, with a large pedestal in the middle, surrounded by large blocks. Of course from her perspective everything on this planet was massive, but this put everywhere she’s been so far to shame. She looked back down at the Key, and saw that it was no longer glowing.
“This must be the place.”
Sari took a few steps towards the pedestal, but stopped as the blocks transformed into humanoid figures, with dome-like heads and clawed hands. The robots advanced towards Sari, pushing her back towards the tunnel exit.
“Let’s start where the defendant’s reign of terror began,” Sentinel said, pulling the first data tablet off the stack. “10 million stellar-cycles ago, Megatron led a surprise attack on an Autobot outpost on Gwahlar, the fifth moon of Thulsa Doom. A cycle that, in the words of the late Ultra Magnus, would live in infamy. In the assault, 9,219,754 Autobots died, including 260,900 civilians.”
“Objection, your honor!” Megatron said, “I move for a mistrial on the charges of the Attack on Gwahlar and any other charges related to the Great War, under the terms of the Tyrest Accord.”
“What’s the Tyrest Accord?” Bumblebee whispered to Optimus.
“It’s the peace treaty that ended the Great War two million stellar-cycles ago,” Optimus whispered in response.
“And just what relevance does the Tyrest Accord hold to this trial?” Sentinel asked Megatron.
“Under the terms of the Tyrest Accord,” Megatron responded, “the Autobot Commonwealth agreed to grant amnesty to us Decepticons for any war crimes, in exchange for us accepting exile from the planet.”
“But you didn’t accept exile, Megatron,” Sentinel noted. “In the time since this supposed peace agreement was signed, you and your Decepticons launched multiple offenses against Cybertron. I would say that voids the amnesty agreement.”
“What happened after the Accords were signed is irrelevant. The amnesty has been granted, and cannot be revoked by the will of a judge alone.”
Alpha Trion struck his gavel, “Order in the court! Motion sustained.”
“Your honor, this is absurd!” Sentinel implored, “What halfwit Autobot came up with that stupid rule anyhow?”
Alpha Trion glared at Sentinel, “That would have been me. I drafted the Tyrest Accord myself, hoping that it would allow Cybertron to move on from the war into a new age of peace. And regardless of how successful it was, the Accord remains part of the Autobot Code, and thus still carries the force of law. As a result, the crimes committed by Megatron prior to the signing of the Tyrest Accord will not be considered at this trial.”
Another strike of the gavel punctuated Alpha Trion’s verdict, and Sentinel grumbled as he began removing data tablets from the stack.
By now, Sari was completely cornered. The robots had formed a solid semicircular wall around her, blocking her from moving any way but backwards. She looked behind her, back at the tunnel she came through; then in front of her, at the terminal that she knew must be the access point for Vector Sigma.
“I’ve come this far to learn the truth...” she said, “I’m not backing out now!”
She deployed her helmet and activated her jetpack, launching her into the air. She held out her hands in a fighting stance, forgetting that she still had the Key in one of them. As soon as one of the robots saw it, however, it stopped advancing and kneeled down. All the other robots followed its lead, forming a semicircle of prostrate figures around her.
“What the...” Sari started before looking back at the Key in her hand. “Oh! You guys are just guarding Vector Sigma. Making sure that only those with the Key can get close to it.”
The robots did not respond.
“Well, I guess it’s now or never.”
Sari flew over to the pedestal, and landed on a small riser on the front side, facing a large star-shaped panel with a slot in the middle. She raised the Key to Vector Sigma, and touched it to the slot. The panel began to glow with the same yellow light from before, and Sari was forced to release her grip on the Key as it grew back to its original size. She stumbled back in awe as small drone-like objects flew out from the center of the pedestal, arranging themselves into a spherical formation. Beams of yellow light shot out between the machines, creating the shape of a glowing gold sphere made of tessellated triangles.
“Awesome!” Sari whispered.
Suddenly, a wide beam landed just in front of Sari, and the light began to take on a shape. The shape of a slender Autobot, with motorcycle tires in his legs, a windscreen on his chest, and pieces of sidecar hanging off of him like samurai armor. The figure looked down at Sari through a sharp blue visor, nestled under a tall golden crest.
“Prowl!” Sari rushed towards the figure and threw her arms around his leg.
But her body passed right through. The figure seemed to not be there at all, despite being clearly visible.
Back in the courtroom, Optimus stood before the court at the witness stand. Sentinel stood opposite him, looking at a data tablet rather than making any attempt at eye contact.
“Optimus Prime,” Sentinel started, “do you hereby affirm that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
“Yes,” Optimus said.
“Now, please describe, to the best of your recollection, the events that took place between you and the defendant.”
“Could you be more specific, please? There were a lot of ‘events’.”
Sentinel looked up at Optimus and scowled.
“Fifty stellar cycles ago,” Sentinel said. “When you first encountered the defendant.”
“Ah, of course. My crew and I were on a space bridge repair job in the Azazel belt.”
“Would you care to name the ‘bots on that crew, for the record?”
“Ratchet, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Prowl and myself.”
“Thank you. Proceed.”
“We were clearing debris out from the space bridge node, when the space bridge suddenly activated on its own and began sucking up the surrounding stone.”
“On its own, you say?”
“Must’ve been a power surge or something, we never did figure out exactly why it happened. Regardless, after that issue was resolved, we discovered that under some of the dislodged rocks, something was buried. I didn’t recognize it at first, but Ratchet immediately knew that we’d found the AllSpark. And not long after that, we found ourselves staring down the barrel of Megatron’s ship.”
“And what was your response to that situation?”
“I contacted the Elite Guard immediately.”
“And what did they tell you?”
“That reinforcements were coming, and that we should remain in place until they arrive.”
“Did you?”
“No. I realized there wasn’t enough time for reinforcements to reach us before Megatron would, so I set a course for the nearest space bridge. But Megatron intercepted us, fired on us, and boarded our ship. He attacked my crew and made for the AllSpark. I was only barely able to launch him out the docking chute before he could get at it. But by then, the damage was done, and our ship crashed.”
“No further questions,” Sentinel growled.
Sari looked up at the image of Prowl, her legs trembling in fear.
“Forgive me, Sari,” he said, “but what you’re seeing is nothing more than a projection.”
“Like...” Sari trembled, “like a ghost?”
“Not exactly, but something similar,” ‘Prowl’ explained, turning to the large glowing orb. “Vector Sigma’s archives contain all the data that has ever existed on Cybertron. Including the memories and programming of every Transformer to ever live, even you will live on within this database when the day inevitably comes that you pass on to the Well of All Sparks.”
Sari quickly decided to ignore that last slightly morbid thought, “So that would make you...”
‘Prowl’ turned back to Sari, and smiled.
“An emulation. A version of Prowl that thinks and feels the same as the real one, and with all his memories. In a sense, it’s like I never truly left.”
“But his spark is still gone...”
“Sadly, yes. Still, I hope this is familiar enough to you to be a helpful guide to Vector Sigma’s vast data tracks. Now, what did you wish to know?”
Sari paused, still trying to collect her emotions. Then she spoke.
“What are my origins?” she asked.
“Your origins, Sari Sumdac,” ‘Prowl’ said, “lies within the origins of all Transformers.”
Bulkhead took the stand next.
“So, Bulkhead,” Sentinel said, “in your deposition, you claim that Megatron abducted you and employed you against your will in the construction of a space bridge. Would you care to recount that experience for the jury?”
“Yes, sir.” Bulkhead tried to move the mic closer to his mouth’s height, but instead ended up snapping the mic’s neck off, then crushing the mic itself in his claws. “Uh, apologies, your honor.”
“Continue with your testimony,” Alpha Trion sighed.
“Uh, thanks. Where was I? Oh, yeah. So I was taking a walk to clear my head, after a... less than successful attempt at painting. Suddenly, Megatron showed up and started blasting me. I would’ve fought back, but he had Professor Sumdac tied up in his cockpit, and I didn’t want to hurt him. So instead, Megatron kicked my skid plate and flew me out to his secret base.”
“Were you alone on this walk?”
“Well, no. Bumblebee and Sari were with me.”
“And did Bumblebee attempt to assist you during the fight?”
“He did, for a bit. But then he got distracted by what he thought was another Decepticon, but—”
“Objection, your honor,” Megatron said. “How is this line of inquiry relevant?”
“Sustained,” Alpha Trion said. “Continue your testimony, Bulkhead.”
“Thank you, your honor,” Bulkhead said, sighing in relief. “Anyway, Megatron told me that if I didn’t help him build his space bridge, he would remove my head and use my body as a weapon against my friends.”
Sentinel tried to suppress a cringe, “Go on.”
“I’d had that happen to me before, and... well, the threat of it happening again was very persuasive. So I did what Megatron told me to. I built him his space bridge.”
“And what did he intend to do with this space bridge?”
“His plan was to invade Cybertron, and take control of the Space Bridge Nexus. Of course, in his impatience, he ended up overloading the space bridge, and we all would’ve been flung across space randomly if Omega hadn’t stepped in to destroy it.”
“No further questions.”
Vector Sigma’s lights turned outward, and Sari suddenly appeared to be standing on the surface. But things were different. There were no buildings, and the ground was a brilliant golden color. Even the night sky was different, populated with only a few bright stars rather than the vast field of constellations Sari knew.
“Ten billion years ago,” ‘Prowl’ said, “Cybertron seemed nothing more than a metal sphere floating through space. But just beneath the surface existed a power beyond imagination. A power we know as that of the AllSpark.”
A small patch of the planet’s surface started to glow, and Sari watched in awe as the ground reshaped itself into a humanoid figure, kneeling with a sword in hand. The figure stood up, revealing itself to be a feminine robot.
“Through this power, the first Transformer was forged from the very metal that made up the planet’s crust,” ‘Prowl’ explained. “Her name was Prima, the Warrior of Light.”
“Prime...” Sari whispered.
“Yes, it was her for whom the title of Prime was named. She was the first of the first generation of Transformers. Though she would not remain alone for long.”
More patches of ground began to glow, and one by one a new robot rose from the metal. First, a figure with cape-like wings, exposed gears in his chest, and lines on his face like age-wrinkles. In his hand was another sword, with another gear in its hilt, and some star-like filigree along the blade.
“Vector Prime, Guardian of Space and Time.”
Then a robot Sari recognized, purple and red with shoulder pauldrons and a short black mustache.
“Alpha Trion?” Sari said.
“Does it surprise you that a ‘bot who knows so much would have lived for so long?”
“I mean, I knew he was old, but...”
Another robot rose, a purple and gold femme holding a hammer that Sari recognized as the Magnus Hammer.
“Solus Prime, the Builder of Cybertron.”
Then a small figure rose from the ground, a cyan femme not much taller than Sari, with an M-shaped crest across her chest.
“Micronus Prime, the First Minicon.”
Next, a rotund mech with thick goggles, brown and orange in color.
“Alchemist Prime, Master of the Elements.”
After that, a massive robot, blue and orange with asymmetric limbs.
“Nexus Prime, the First Combiner.”
Then a figure like none of the others, like a winged centaur in black and orange.
“Onyx Prime, Lord of the Beasts.”
Yet another strange figure rose, one that seemed to take on a new shape every time Sari blinked.
“Amalgamous Prime, the First Multichanger.”
Next, a slender green mech with tentacles, who reminded Sari of a cartoon alien.
“Quintus Prime, the Prime of Life.”
After that, a green and gold mech with tall curved horns.
“Liege Maximo, the Prime of Lies.”
Finally, a blocky figure in red and blue, with large glass panes on his chest and a silver mask over his face.
“And the Last of the Thirteen, the Great Hero.”
“He looks a bit like...”
Sari looked back up at ‘Prowl’, who responded with only a grin.
“Wait, Last of the Thirteen?” Sari asked, “But there were only twelve.”
“Vector Sigma only has comprehensive data on twelve of the Thirteen. It is known that there were thirteen, but nearly all information on one of them has been expunged from the open record.”
Prowl gestures towards an indistinct cluster of pixels nestled amongst the Thirteen.
“Why?”
“According to what few records exist, this one is ‘fallen’.” As ‘Prowl’ spoke, the glitched figure teleported about the crowd, leaving each one with a gruesome injury. “They betrayed Cybertron and tried to kill their brothers and sisters.”
“But this happened billions of years ago. The universe was, like, really young back then, right? Who could they have betrayed Cybertron to?”
“I’m afraid there’s even less data on that.”
“Why? This feels like important stuff to know.”
“Some information is best left forgotten, Sari. I wish I could tell you more, but I’m afraid that is all there is. Goodbye.”
The holographic scene around Sari disappeared, including the emulated Prowl.
“Hey, wait!” she yelled, “You were supposed to tell me about my origins!”
Vector Sigma responded by shutting down, collapsing back into the pedestal.
“Stupid computer!”
Sari yanked the Key to Vector Sigma out of the control panel and stormed out of the room.
Last to take the stand was Bumblebee.
“Ah, young Bumblebee!” Sentinel said with comical glee, “I remember when you were just a cadet in my boot camp platoon. You’ve grown up quite a bit since then, huh?”
“Yeah, I... seem to recall we didn’t get along well in those days,” Bumblebee said.
“Oh, no point in dwelling on the past. Now, would you care to describe the circumstances leading to Megatron’s ultimate capture?”
“Of course. It all started when Megatron transwarped Omega Supreme to Earth’s moon. I was bridged out to investigate, and I discovered the Decepticons were working on some kind of construction project using Omega Supreme’s activation codes. Not long after that, we learned the hard way what was happening. Megatron had created three clones of Omega Supreme, and sent them to attack Detroit. Fortunately for us, they needed to use the real Omega to control the clones, so disabling them was as easy as recovering the codes for ourselves and using them to reactivate Omega Supreme. Of course, Starscream had his own tricks up his sleeve...”
“Let’s just focus on Megatron for now,” Sentinel said. “So what happened then?”
“Well, at first we thought Megatron was destroyed when Starscream blew up one of the Omega clones. But it turns out he had enough fight left in him for one last scare. Optimus beat him to the ground, though, and then put him in stasis cuffs to bring him back to Cybertron.”
“Would you say that Optimus had Megatron at his mercy at the end of that confrontation?”
“I mean, yeah, pretty much.”
“Why do you suppose he chose to spare Megatron’s life?”
Bumblebee glowered at Sentinel.
“Because that’s the Autobot way. To preserve life and freedom at all costs, even that of our enemies. Megatron wasn’t a threat in that moment, and he deserves to stand trial like any other Cybertronian.”
Sentinel gritted his teeth. “No further questions.”
Sentinel returned to his seat. Alpha Trion turned to Megatron.
“Would the defense like to cross-examine the witness?” Alpha Trion asked.
Megatron stood up. “Yes, your honor. Bumblebee, these actions your friends described all took place on the planet Earth, is that correct?”
“Yeah, what of it?” Bumblebee asked.
Megatron pressed a button on the counsel table, and a holographic star chart filled the center of the courtroom.
“Now, could you point to Earth on this star chart?” he asked.
“Of course I can,” Bumblebee said, standing up to get closer, “it’s...”
Bumblebee scanned the star chart with his finger.
“Well that’s odd,” he said, “it should be right there, about 540 light-stellar-cycles from Cybertron, and 4.1 light-stellar-cycles from the Alpha Centauri system.”
“Yet the chart shows no system within that vicinity,” Megatron said with a grin.
“But that’s impossible. I know that’s where Earth is. The chart must be wrong.”
“On the contrary, young Autobot, this is a complete and up-to-date chart of every star in Cybertronian space. I submit this chart and all of its metadata into evidence, so that the jury may confirm this for themselves. Now, one final question. What do you think it means that Earth does not appear on this chart?”
“Well, if the chart shows every star in Cybertronian space... and Earth isn’t on the chart... then Earth must not be in Cybertronian space.”
“Your honor, I move for a mistrial on all charges relating to events occurring on Earth, on the grounds that said events took place outside of this court’s jurisdiction.”
Ratchet limped into his workshop, physically and mentally drained from a long day’s work.
“I’m getting too old for this scrap,” he muttered to himself.
As he settled in behind his workbench, he heard a sharp banging on the door.
“Aw, what now?” he sighed as he stood back up.
He opened the door, and saw Sari standing in the shadow of the moonlight.
“Oh. Hey, Sari,” he said. “I can’t entertain much at the moment, but do come inside.”
Sari stepped in in an almost robotic fashion.
“Did you... find Vector Sigma?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she answered.
“What did you learn?”
Something seemed to break behind Sari’s optics.
“A whole lot of nothing, that’s what!”
The crystal in her chest began to glow brighter, as did her clenched fists. With a sudden whirr, a pair of blades burst from her arms, and she swung one of them at a piece of junk metal sitting in the corner.
“Sari, are you alright?!” Ratchet asked, “I thought I’d disabled those things.”
Sari took a moment to catch her breath, then inspected her arms.
“Huh,” she said. “I don’t know how that happened either. Maybe there’s still enough AllSpark left in me to—”
Sari’s thought was cut short when she noticed something she hadn’t before. A faint design embedded in the flat of her Master Blades. A star-like filigree design: the same as she saw on the image of Vector Prime’s sword.
The courtroom fell silent as Megatron’s words set in.
“Your honor, this is an absurd proposition,” Sentinel said. “It doesn’t matter where in the universe he was, he still committed crimes against citizens of Cybertron.”
“I’m afraid it does matter, Sentinel,” Alpha Trion said. “Cybertronian law is only enforceable within Cybertronian space. Any actions taken on an independent planet are beyond the purview of this court. Motion sustained.”
Alpha Trion struck the gavel, and the gallery exploded into uproar.
“Order in the court!” Alpha Trion struck the gavel again, “As of now, the only charges left on the table are assaulting an Autobot naval vessel, and invading Cybertronian airspace.”
“Not so fast, your honor,” Sentinel sneered. “You see, I have one more charge I would like to levy against Megatron.”
Sentinel took out another data tablet.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the court,” he continued, “do you know what exactly Megatron was planning to do when he acquired the AllSpark?”
“What do you mean with this question, Sentinel?” Alpha Trion asked.
“It just so happens that Cybertron Intelligence has recently acquired documents containing the answer to that question.”
Sentinel slammed the data tablet on Alpha Trion’s desk, and a holographic image appeared over it. It depicted a large spherical object, made of rock and metal, equipped with large thrusters and massive cannons. While the metallic structures closely resembled those of Cybertron, just enough land and water was visible to indicate exactly what this mechanical dreadnought was to be built from: Earth itself.
“This was Megatron’s master plan,” Sentinel declared. “He was going to use the AllSpark to cyberform the Earth into his own personal war world. With which to attack Cybertron and all of its colony worlds, and then proceed to conquer the entire galaxy.” Sentinel flashed a smug grin, “I’m sure you’ll agree, your honor, that this plot alone is greater in magnitude than all of Megatron’s other actions combined.”
Everyone in the courtroom was speechless. Even Megatron had no response.
Then Optimus stood up.
“Objection, your honor!” he said, “Sentinel, how exactly did you acquire those documents?”
Megatron looks at Optimus in amazement.
“Pipe down, Optimus,” Sentinel said. “You have no right to make objections.”
“Order in the court!” Alpha Trion called, “Sentinel is correct about Optimus’s right to object. However, Optimus raises a valid question. Sentinel, would you care to explain how you acquired this evidence?”
“That’s classified, your honor. But I can assure you that the documents are authentic.”
“Sentinel, your assurance alone does not satisfy the needs of this court. If you cannot provide the necessary documentation to confirm that these documents are authentic and lawfully acquired, I cannot admit them into evidence.”
“With all due respect, Cybertron Intelligence has the right to conceal information for the purposes of planetary security–”
“I am aware of that, Sentinel. That does not change the rules of evidence. Either grant the court access to the information it demands of you, or this evidence will be excluded.”
“Alpha Trion, you aren’t seriously about to let Megatron off with what’s basically a parking ticket, purely on a technicality, are you?”
“This is about more than Megatron, Sentinel,” Optimus interjected again. “This is about the integrity of the court itself. If we decide it’s okay to bend the rules now, how will we be sure the rules aren’t being bent in the future? What if someone who genuinely is innocent ends up going to the stockade because we let faulty evidence through the cracks?”
“Megatron is our enemy! We need to uphold law and order if we want to keep Cybertron—”
Before Sentinel could finish his sentence, the lights in the courtroom suddenly went out.
BOOM!
A flash of light blasted the wall of the courtroom clean open. Moonlight streamed into the dark room, illuminating the forms of Strika, Oil Slick, Lugnut, Blitzwing, and two Starscream clones.