Dealing with Death

Don’t be afraid of what’s inside the dark room behind the locked door. Take one slow step at a time, down the corridor. Let the ice blue light show you the way. I know you’re scared, but I am right here. I am your inner voice, here to help you through this. Closer now, you’re doing fine. Let’s see some of that courage you’re so famous for. You’re so gung-ho and keen to prove something to the others. But here and now it’s a completely different story when you want to prove something to yourself.

No need to turn around, there’s no one behind you. Perceptor’s gone. Ultra Magnus went to his quarters. You’re on your own now, walking down this corridor towards the dark room behind the locked door. Halfway there, and I know you can feel the cold. It’s so cold in here and sterile. They can’t let any particles come in contact with the exposed circuits, down here in the labs. Don’t jump, it’s just the echo of your own footsteps. Listen to the sound bounce towards the locked door and back again. Don’t be so scared. It’s only you making that noise, keep walking towards that door. You can’t back out now, I would be disappointed. He would be disappointed.

Okay, you’ve made it to the door. It’s locked, but I already told you that. You shouldn’t even be here, this whole floor is off-limits. But it won’t stop you. You’re a master spy, prepared for everything. Stop looking behind you, there’s no one there. You weren’t followed. Now transmit the codes and open the door. That’s just the pressure of the door releasing, nothing to worry about. The lights should come on shortly, you just have to walk into the room. Go on my friend, take a step. You’ve made it this far, don’t back out.

There he is, on that slab. Walk towards it and take a closer look. It’s just a table covered in components and circuitry. Nothing’s going to hurt you. It’s definitely him, the red antennae, the yellow chest-plate. Reach out touch them. I’m sure he won’t mind, he was your best friend. There’s nothing to fear. You have to do this, Bumblebee. It’s all part of the process of dealing with death.

Cybertron, 2386. Soundwave walked away from his cloaked shuttlecraft and surveilled the horizon. He was the only Decepticon on the entire planet. As much as it meant defeat for the Decepticons, it was a great personal victory for him. His relationship with Ultra Magnus had started in the early 21st Century when they first fought side-by-side against the Quintessons. And now he was in a position to use that trust to learn the location of Cybertron and dangle it like a carrot in front of Galvatron.

Ultra Magnus was unusually late for their meeting. No doubt the acting Autobot Commander had things on his mind. Things that Soundwave could exploit. Surely a world full of Autobots at peace would be a utopian society? Not so. Star Saber had created an impenetrable government. Nothing had been heard from Optimus Prime since his return and Ultra Magnus was given command of the army while Star Saber ruled the planet. Soundwave would do anything to find out what was going on. He wondered how many Autobots he would have to kill to find the truth. Autobot communications were his for the taking after Blaster’s death and now Soundwave wondered which other key-players should be removed. He was the only Decepticon on a planet full of Autobots. His choices were limitless, and he smiled beneath his mouthplate as he planned his next target. After all, he was always very good at dealing with death.

Ultra Magnus had a tendency to put off minor problems until they became major disasters. He was never truly comfortable with leadership and it seemed that all his lieutenants ever heard from him was, “I can’t deal with that now.”

In vehicle mode, he sped along the causeway towards the rendez-vu point with his Decepticon ally. This was the first meeting he’d set up with Soundwave by himself. Normally it was Blaster that would deal with the co-ordinates and time. After all those years stationed at the hub of the Autobots’ communications centre out of sight and mind, only now was Blaster appreciated.

Since the autopsy, thoughts of Blaster instantly shifted to Scrounge. It was another subject Magnus simply couldn’t deal with. After all the time it took for him to truly digest Xenon’s revelations, and now with this new reincarnation angle showing up, he thought it best to push everything to the back of his mind.

An enforcement vehicle pulled alongside Ultra Magnus and wailed its siren, breaking the spell of his thoughts. It was Speedtrap: “Ultra Magnus, your exhaust port emissions are exceeding the guideline parameters of the environmental code phi-forty-seven.”

Ultra Magnus screeched to a halt and transformed to robot mode. “Speedtrap, your vocal emissions are exceeding the Ultra Magnus guidelines for anal retentiveness.”

Speedtrap quickly flipped into robot mode, ignoring the joke. “Sir, are you okay? When was the last time you went for a maintenance check?”

Magnus knelt down to match the smaller Autobot’s height, and cupped his right hand over his shoulder. “I’m fine, Speedtrap. Just got a lot to deal with right now. Being Autobot Commander is not an easy job.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And besides, what are my emissions going to damage out here? We’re not on Earth.”

Speedtrap’s optics flickered as if a glitch has surged through his processor and Ultra Magnus immediately regretted saying the word ‘Earth’. A vision – or memory? – flashed across Speedtrap: An organic planet surrounded by massive starcruisers that pierced its atmosphere. The draining of its oceans. Millions of robots descending upon it’s dried-out surface. Drilling the ground and—

Ultra Magnus acted quickly to make use of Speedtrap’s daze. He opened a small panel on the small Autobot’s helmet and accessed his primary cerebral port. Ultra Magnus’ optics narrowed as he found the appropriate memory files and promptly deleted them. He hadn’t been as thorough with the Arctis Academy students as he thought.

“What happened?” asked Speedtrap.

“There seemed to be a malfunction with your optics,” lied the Autobot Commander. “Maybe I’m not the one who needs a maintenance check.”

“What fresh hell is this, Perceptor?” Soundwave asked, feigning exasperation as spun on his heels to see the nervous Autobot scientist emerge from his hiding place.

“How do you mean?” Perceptor cursed himself for foolishly thinking a rusting shuttlecraft wing could block Soundwave’s mind reading ability.

“The planet Cybertron has become a Decepticon utopia. A society that operates with a government so well integrated into the population that no one is aware that it even exists, leaving it free to pursue its own agenda.”

“Decepticon utopia?”

“Why of course! Or have you conveniently forgotten – like everyone else on this planet – that your current Overlord was one of these.” Soundwave tapped the Decepticon insignia on his chest.

“Let’s cut through the static shall we?” Perceptor wasn’t interested in Soundwave’s double-talk. “You already know why I’m here.”

“You have cleverly deduced that Blaster’s death was not suicide, but in fact because of me.”

“You don’t need to appear so smug about it.”

“I suffered greatly by Galvatron’s hand after what Blaster did.”

“I’m sure you deserved it.” Perceptor paused and looked Soundwave up and down. “And now I have evidence that you killed Blaster, and when I tell Ultra Magnus your little meetings together will be no more.”

“I doubt it, Autobot.” Soundwave shot an angry glance at Perceptor. “He has more trust in me than you’ll ever realise.”

Perceptor strode past Soundwave, knocking the Decepticon to the side with his shoulder. “We’ll see,” he spat.

Soundwave watched the scientist walk out of view as he thought carefully about his next course of action.

Alone in a room with pieces of his best friend, Bumblebee trembled.

He had missed his chance to say goodbye and the broken chest-plate he held in his quivering hands was all he had left. Just as Blaster spent most of his life in solitude, stuck inside the Autobot communications centre, so too did Bumblebee. As espionage director, he was always away from home. Always away from his friends. He had always been sure that Blaster understood the situation, that it was their role in the Autobot war machine that kept them apart.

But Perceptor said it was suicide.

“I’m so sorry,” the small yellow Autobot croaked.

Just then the door opened and a familiar figure walked confidently in the room. It was Blaster.

Speedtrap called his nine fellow cadets into his quarters. Not one of them could tell him what Earth was, despite the fact that they’d all been there recently helping Ultra Magnus betray Star Saber.

Blaster read what Bumblebee was thinking. “Yeah, this is real,” he said.

Bumblebee took a step back as Blaster took a step towards him. Bumblebee held up the broken chest-plate like a shield. Blaster smiled and opened his arms. Bumblebee threw down the barrier, took two quick steps and jumped into Blaster’s arms and squeezed as tight as he could.

Soundwave had wanted to find out where all the Neogens had gone, but instead scanned Magnus’ mind, and used the current confusion about Scrounge to his advantage. The Decepticon didn’t believe that Ultra Magnus was Scrounge in a resparked body. But Ultra Magnus almost believed it, and that was enough.

“Are you really sure Perceptor can be trusted?” he had asked. “After all, he was the only witness to Blaster’s apparent suicide.”

Hmm, clever.

“Bumblebee!”

Perceptor’s cold voice echoed into the room. “What is going on here? This is a restricted area!” He marched past Bumblebee and replaced Blaster’s chest-plate onto the slab.

“I.”

“You’ve been tampering with evidence!” shouted Perceptor, losing his temper.

“I’m sorry, Perceptor,” said Bumblebee apologetically. “I just needed to be sure.”

“And you think you can just neglect tech protocols? Optimus Prime may have let you run around like a spoilt child, but he’s not in command anymore.”

Ultra Magnus burst into the room, the minor problem rapidly becoming a major disaster. “No, he’s not, but I am!”

The massive Autobot raced forward and grabbed Perceptor by the throat with his right hand. He knocked the scientist’s head with the other. “All this intellect of yours and you still get a kick from picking on the small yellow Autobots.”

“Oh, the Scrounge thing again?” Perceptor spat defiantly. “Grow up Magnus. You’re no more him than I am the reincarnated form of Wheelie.”

Magnus was seething. “It seems to me you wouldn’t be so bothered about Bumblebee having a personal moment with his best friend’s remains unless you had something to hide.”

“Sir,” pleaded Bumblebee, “you’ve got to calm down.”

“Calm down?” Magnus was squeezing so tight that fuel lines in Perceptor’s neck began to rupture, spilling thick oil onto his white hands. “Blaster’s death wasn’t suicide. It was murder!”

“What?”

Ultra Magnus didn’t care now whether the objection came from Perceptor or Bumblebee. He leaned into the choking Perceptor, spitting vocal lubricant into his face: “That’s right, it was Perceptor. Jealous, bitter, whatever, I don’t care why, but I know he’s not going to get away with it.”

As molten fury clouded his judgement in a peak of lost identity, Ultra Magnus was seconds away from making the biggest mistake of his life.