Retribution

by David J. Williams

Thundercracker had no such qualms. He was quite happy to follow Megatron wherever he might lead, particularly since remaining on Cybertron with Shockwave had few attractions. The scientist-regent was about as unpredictable as a Decepticon could get, but if past was prologue, it surely involved experiments on his own kind with little regard for the end result. Thundercracker privately hoped that Shockwave would meet with a reckoning when Megatron returned home in triumph. But those were concerns for another time indeed.

  Because now an alarm was sounding throughout the ship.

  Thundercracker glanced at the others in the room. Suddenly they were all on edge, like athletes waiting for the signal to go. The intercom buzzed to life.

  “This is Air Commander Starscream. All Seekers, prepare for orbital assault.”

  An excited buzz ran around the wardroom. Surely that meant the Autobots had been found. Thundercracker stood up and spoke to the room in tones that rang down the corridors and that (he hoped) were overheard by their glorious leader.

  “It’s time to do what we do best! Thanks to Megatron for delivering us this chance at battle! All hail Megatron!”

  The answering shout would have deafened anything that wasn’t metal. “ALL HAIL MEGATRON!”

  SOUNDWAVE SNAPPED TO ATTENTION AS MEGATRON strode onto the Nemesis’s command deck.

  “Status report,” Megatron barked.

  “We’ve isolated the transmission’s location, Lord Megatron.” Soundwave quickly set the ship’s viewscreens to display all the information he’d obtained regarding the mysterious system and the signal emanating from it. Megatron frowned.

  “And your personal analysis, Soundwave?”

  “The signal is of Autobot origin. That being said, I still cannot locate the exact position of the Autobot Ark. The debris serves as effective cover, complicating any effort at triangulation—”

  “Yes, yes, yes. I understand.” Megatron smiled as he stared at the screen. “Well played, librarian, well played indeed.”

  “What should we do, my lord?”

  “Starscream has volunteered to attack immediately. We will bring the Nemesis to the system’s edge and prepare to support him.”

  Soundwave hesitated. “Do you think it wise to send so small a detachment in first, sire?”

  “This is what Starscream and his Seekers were built for,” Megatron said. “They’ll be on top of that signal faster than the Autobots will be able to react. Optimus will have to reveal his precise location, and then we’ll move in with the main force and strike.”

  That made sense to Soundwave. Exposing Starscream to the brunt of the enemy made even more. If he’d had a sense of humor, he would have giggled.

  Fortunately for those around him, he didn’t.

  DOWN IN ONE OF THE NEMESIS’S FORWARD LOADING bays the Seekers got ready. Starscream, Thundercracker, Skywarp, Thrust, Dirge, and Ramjet were finishing their final weapon checks.

  “So let me get this straight,” said Ramjet, shrugging his blue steel shoulders. “We’re going to go in there and spring what may very well be a trap?”

  Thrust laughed. “Feeling nervous, Ramjet?”

  “No, I’m just wondering why we have to stick our head into the meat grinder,” Ramjet said. “Surely we should lead with a decoy. It hardly seems like the kind of assault work we Seekers merit.”

  “A far cry from when we ruled the skies of Cybertron,” Dirge added. “This sounds almost like we’re being used as cannon fodder. I wish to protest—”

  “Wish all you like!” Starscream bellowed. He’d resigned himself to the situation—there was no choice other than to get with the program and hope for the best. “We’re going in first because we’re the elite, okay? When you want something done right, you deploy your finest troops. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” said Thundercracker. “Anyway, who wants to sit around here when there’s the chance of a good fight? You lot do remember how to fight, don’t you?”

  “You keep talking and I might have to show you,” Ramjet answered while powering up his laser blade. Starscream stepped between his two air raiders.

  “Enough; save your energy for the real enemy.” The bay doors cycled open as the warriors seamlessly switched to jet-attack mode. They swarmed out of the Nemesis in tight formation, accelerating through dozens of Gs as they raced toward the signal. Ahead lay a vast cloud of rocks and a sun flickering deep within.

  “Wait for my command to resume jet-trooper mode,” said Starscream. “Stay on my six, Thundercracker. The rest of you form attack pattern delta.” Thundercracker swung in directly behind Starscream, sunlight flitting off the red streaks on his wings. With incredible grace, the whole formation weaved in and out of the dense debris field on vectors that would allow them to respond to any attack from hidden ships. It was a task that would have been impossible for lesser pilots. If there were enemy ships in here, they were well hidden. The Seekers could detect nothing. As they closed on the asteroid that marked the signal’s exact coordinates, Starscream gave the final go-ahead; the Seekers fired their thrusters and descended down toward the rock like giant birds of prey.

  “There,” said Thundercracker. He’d just spotted a single small ship tethered against a crater in the asteroid. Starscream and his Seekers switched to jet-trooper mode, firing their retrothrusters to slow their approach, landing in a tight circle around that ship, their guns aimed at what looked like a—

  “Lifeboat,” Thrust said, sounding disappointed.

  “It’s not even Autobot design,” Dirge added.

  “Cover us,” Starscream said as he and Thundercracker advanced on the craft.

  “Where are all the Autobots?” a puzzled Ramjet asked. “Where’s the Ark?”

  “Maybe it’s been destroyed,” said Skywarp.

  “Shut up and get this thing open,” Starscream snarled. Thundercracker ripped off the hatch to reveal a battered orange and yellow robot, obviously still functional but restrained and hardwired into the ship’s systems. The bot looked up at them plaintively.

  “Hello, mate,” he said. “Be a good ’un and release me, eh?”

  “Who the slag are you?” Starscream asked.

  “Wreck-Gar is the name; wheeling and dealing junk is my game.” He grinned wanly through his goatee. “Or at least it was.”

  “It’s one of those Junkion robots,” Dirge offered.

  “One of?” Wreck-Gar looked offended. “Guv’nor of the lot, more like it. Show a little respect”—but that was when Starscream ripped him out of his restraints, grabbed him by the neck, and pressed an arm-mounted laser up to his eyes.

  “Respect is an interesting word,” said the air commander. “But I feel you and I might differ on its meaning.”

  “No need to get so hot under the collar,” Wreck-Gar said.

  “So tell me where the Autobots are,” Starscream said, his voice dangerously soft.

  “No Autobots here. Haven’t seen any of those blighters in a fair while.”

  “Then there’s no reason why I shouldn’t blast you—”

  “Hey, I’m picking up energy readings,” Debris said.

  Starscream glanced at him. “Where?”

  “Um, in every direction.”

  Asteroids all around them suddenly split open like monstrous eggs, each one shattering to reveal a warship within. Too late, Starscream realized the nature of the trap—so many of those giant rocks were just cleverly constructed shells. And now each warship belched forth hundreds of smaller pirate marauders. Leading the armada was the monstrous catamaran flagship Tidal Wave, both of its hulls bristling with guns.

  “Not these guys again,” Thrust muttered. He figured they’d seen the last of the Star Seekers back at Junkion. Hunting the Autobots was tough enough without a gang of marauders getting in the way, especially when they were led by a relentless psychopath who hated all Cybertronians regardless of faction. And just to make matters worse—

  “Hey,” Ramjet said, “it’s still got the Requiem Blaster.”

&nbs
p; He was right. The legendary weapon was plainly visible, attached to the underside of the hull like some gigantic growth.

  Thanks a lot, Megatron, Starscream thought as he and his Seekers fired their thrusters.

  Chapter Three

  FROM HIS THRONELIKE COMMAND CHAIR ON THE BRIDGE of the Nemesis, Megatron watched the viewscreens as Starscream and his Seekers split up and took off at high speeds in different directions, racing away from the fleet that had just appeared. In his embarrassment at having misjudged the situation so completely, Soundwave leaped to state the obvious.

  “Lord Megatron, those aren’t Autobots, they’re—”

  “Star Seekers. Yes. Those marauders we encountered over Junkion.” Megatron didn’t even try to hide his disappointment. “Little more than scavengers.” He watched on the screen as Starscream fled for his life, dodging shots from several pirate pursuers. Now that was a vid-clip he’d enjoy putting on repeat view.

  “Lord Megatron, the Star Seekers are hailing us. Should I—”

  “Go ahead, Soundwave. Put them onscreen and let’s see what they have to say.”

  The Tidal Wave’s bridge came into view, revealing the spiny blue scowl of the pirate leader Thundertron, resplendent in blue and gold, a triumphant expression on his face. He was flanked by his tattoo-covered first mate Cannonball and the Decepticon traitor Axer; behind him, Sandstorm manned the ship’s helm while Brimstone moved from station to station checking readings, making sure the pirate flotilla was prepared to do its duty.

  “We have them exactly where we want them,” Brimstone said as if the statement would further demoralize the Decepticons hearing it. Thundertron rose from his captain’s chair and pointed his glowing energy cutlass at the screen.

  “You Cybertronians are so predictable, ‘Lord’ Megatron.”

  The Decepticons on the bridge tensed for Megatron to react with rage. But instead he just leaned back, a sardonic expression on his face. “Permit me to guess. You must be Thundertron.”

  “You know cursed well who I am.”

  “Well, that doesn’t mean I don’t like to observe the formalities. Allow me to express my utmost admiration for your work, Captain. Piracy is a dangerous trade where only the most cunning survive. Your fleet is truly impressive. And your ship? Absolutely first-class.”

  “False compliments will get you nowhere, Megatron, for today I am the whirlwind and you are the dust doomed to be flung into eternity.”

  “How poetic,” said Megatron. “I appreciate that in an adversary.”

  “Then you will appreciate this even more: Your destruction will complete my revenge on you Cybertronians. For I have annihilated the Autobots already, and now I shall send you to join them.”

  That was news to Megatron. Had the Star Seekers really destroyed the Autobots? It had to be some kind of bluff. But then again, they had the Requiem Blaster. They might have made short work of Optimus. Megatron gave Soundwave a sidelong glance, a signal to his subordinate to activate his short-range telepathic ability. Now Megatron would be able to give orders without the pirates realizing it. His first command: Scan that weapon.

  “I’m sure we can come to terms,” Megatron said. “You talk about revenge: I’ve caused a lot of damage in my time, but I can’t remember doing anything to you specifically.” He was stalling for time but figured there was no downside to trying. They needed more information on the Blaster. Besides, with every second that passed the fleeing Starscream continued to draw off some of the pirates, spreading out their formation.

  “This isn’t about you and me,” Thundertron said. “This is about Cybertron itself.”

  “So you keep saying,” said Megatron. “Can you be more specific?”

  “We were your loyal subjects, curse you. We enjoyed the prosperity of your Golden Age. But you turned inward; your bridges collapsed, and you left us in the cold. My people died by the millions. This fleet is all that’s left.”

  Megatron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Your grievance against Cybertron is that our empire collapsed? This is ancient history.”

  “For us it is a vendetta that has lived to this day. Which is why you must die.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Megatron said. “Join me.”

  “Do not jest with me, you puny bot.”

  “I’m not jesting. The Cybertronian empire is back, and it’s under new management: mine. And rest assured, I don’t intend to let the place go to seed the way my predecessors did. There’s no reason you can’t play a role in my Pax Megatronica. Pledge your fleet to me, and together we will restore Cybertron and all its works to their former glory.”

  “I’ve got a counteroffer,” Thundertron replied.

  “I’m all ears.”

  “If you surrender now, I shall grant you a quick and painless death.”

  No one talked like that to Megatron. But even now he appeared more amused than anything else. “Most generous of you,” he said. “Let me consider it for a moment.”

  “No. You’ll answer right now,” said Thundertron—just as Soundwave signaled to Megatron that his scan was complete. All the data on the Blaster appeared on a nearby screen, out of the pirates’ view. It took Megatron less than a femto-second to absorb its meaning.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline,” he said.

  Thundertron nodded as though that was the reply he’d been hoping for, then signaled to Cannonball. “Prepare to fire the Requiem Blaster,” he said.

  “At once,” said Cannonball. Thundertron turned back to the viewscreen.

  “Any last words, Megatron, before I end your pathetic existence?”

  “I think not,” Megatron replied. “Do your worst.” As he said this, the Nemesis fired its engines, jetting off to the side and placing one of the larger asteroids between it and the Tidal Wave. But Thundertron just laughed.

  “That won’t save you,” he said. “Weapons free!” he yelled.

  The Requiem Blaster fired.

  A massive surge of energy ripped out and smashed into the asteroid, which disintegrated in a sheet of white light. As the dust cleared, there was nothing left—and nothing now standing between the Tidal Wave and the Nemesis. The Requiem Blaster took aim once more.

  “Lord Megatron, should we take evasive action—”

  But Megatron cut Soundwave off with a wave of his hand. “Hold the current course and stand by to return fire.”

  “But Lord—”

  “I said hold our current course and prepare to return fire!” Soundwave watched in horror as the legendary weapon charged up. Megatron stood beside him, his arms crossed and a look on his face that verged on boredom.

  “Good-bye and good riddance,” Thundertron intoned. “Fire!”

  The Requiem Blaster was one of the most powerful weapons ever developed by the Primes, perhaps the ultimate weapon of mass destruction ever to see use. But in their zeal, the Star Seekers had overlooked its fatal flaw—it required almost a mythic amount of power to fire and even more energy to keep it from overheating. As soon as Megatron had reviewed the schematics, he knew that they’d get only one shot at full strength. After that—

  A thin stream of plasma poured out of the Blaster, but it was a pale shadow of its predecessor. Energy peppered the hull of the Nemesis with a force that was little more than intense sunlight. And as it dissipated …

  “My turn,” Megatron said.

  The Nemesis opened fire. As its long-range shots smashed into the Tidal Wave, Thundertron whirled to face Cannonball, who shrugged helplessly.

  “The Blaster has overloaded most of our systems, Captain!”

  “I’m going to overload yours if you don’t fire it again!”

  “Captain, we’re lucky the ship’s still running!”

  Thundertron smashed his fist down in rage on his armrest. He should have known better than to think some ancient Cybertronian popgun would work.

  “We don’t need it!” he yelled. “We’ll destroy these fools with our bare hands!” />
  The Tidal Wave jettisoned the Requiem Blaster, engaged its afterburners, and headed directly for the Nemesis. As the two ships charged each other, hundreds of Decepticons erupted from hatches on the Nemesis while the ship’s guns unleashed a withering covering fire. The swarms of pirates still in pursuit of the Seekers turned to rejoin the main force, which came as a welcome relief for Starscream. Thundertron pressed a button on his command chair, which folded into the floor; hydraulic lifts carried him out of the bridge and up onto the ship’s top deck as the Tidal Wave veered toward the Nemesis. Forget the Requiem Blaster. He’d just have to resort to close encounters. Which would make the inevitable victory all the sweeter …

  AS THE BATTLE RAGED, WRECK-GAR WAS KEEPING BUSY. Now that Starscream had freed him from his restraints, he’d managed to get the podship running again. With everyone distracted, it was simple enough to plot a course back to the Tidal Wave; as the huge catamaran took fire from the Nemesis, Wreck-Gar flew his ship straight through one of the holes punched in the pirate hull. The crewmen in the vicinity were far too concerned with damage control to notice a single Junkion sneaking to the recently installed space bridge deep within the vessel. And when it came to tinkering with systems, Wreck-Gar was the best; it took him only a few moments to uncover the panels to the power relay systems and drain off just enough of the ship’s batteries for a single use of the bridge.

  “Easy peasy,” Wreck-Gar said to himself as he punched in Junkion’s coordinates. He’d almost managed to complete the sequence when the hard barrel of a laser pressed up against the back of his head.

  “And what might you be doing?” said a voice.

  Wreck-Gar turned to see Axer standing there, a self-satisfied expression on his gleaming blue face.

  “I’m making myself scarce,” Wreck-Gar replied. “You’d be wise to do the same before the Decepticons give these pirates what for.”

  “Not just yet.” The Tidal Wave shook as it absorbed more damage. “I have some unfinished business here.”

  “With me? Now that’s junk; I’m sure we can come to an arrangement—”

  “I’m not going to shoot you—if you show me how to operate this bridge. Is it true that they’re particularly sensitive to Cybertronian artifacts?”