Out of Bocaraton

Vortex sliced off the Khyaxian’s right leg with his rotor assembly.

He was actually aiming for his groin, but it was hard to see with any accuracy thanks to his cracked visor. The green lizard fell backwards and landed hard on the rocky Mexican ground. Vortex stood poised. The Khyaxians always had a trick up their collective sleeve, and the Combaticon knew full well that the fight wasn’t over.

The other four Combaticons circled the fighters and slowly closed in. Onslaught never trusted organic creatures and the Khyaxian Scrul was no exception. In a single, fluid movement a thin metallic cylinder sprung out from the alien’s forearm and attached itself to Vortex’s chest. Instantly weakened, he dropped his glue gun as the Scrul’s missing leg unbelievably regenerated itself.

Onslaught charged in between the pair and severed the link with a sweeping blow from his right fist. Vortex collapsed on the ground but the Khyaxian used the momentum of Onslaught’s strike to twist 360 degrees and attach the device to his chest.

Nothing happened.

A look of sheer horror dissolved across the Scrul’s features as Onslaught crushed the device with his hands while pulling it away from his chest. The alien disengaged the device from his arm and fled.

“After it!” cried Onslaught as he gestured to Brawl and Blast Off.

The two Combaticons transformed to vehicle mode and sped off after the Khyaxian. Onslaught knelt down beside Vortex and Swindle removed a Medi-Scan in order to ascertain the cause of the sudden energy-drain.

The Khyaxian didn’t turn to look back until he felt sure he was out of visual range of Onslaught. The Khyaxians were a supremely arrogant race and it was rare that something would scare them. And this Scrul was petrified.

“Cloaking,” he whispered as his physical form shimmered in the sunlight before disappearing completely.

Cue Brawl and Blast Off.

“Dang!” cursed Brawl and he trundled to a halt.

Blast Off transformed and landed beside his comrade and scanned the horizon. “There,” he murmured, fixing his gaze on a glinting object on the horizon, “over there.”

The Scrul entered the bridge of his cloaked Strife-Fighter and quickly activated the nearest console. After a few seconds of security clearance he had raised the homeworld.

The face of a young Khyaxian melted onto the viewscreen. He swallowed the grit-roach he had been crunching on and acknowledged, “ah, Scrul! What is it this time?”

“I must speak with your father immediately!”

“He is in conference with my brother right now, but I can—"

The Scrul had no time for royal formalities and cut to the chase, “Thrix, I… I’ve found one!”

“Found one what?” the Khyaxian prince said, moving forward.

“The Transformer our Khyogi sent me to spy on,” continued the Scrul, his voice shaky, “he’s… he’s immune.”

“I don’t believe it!” was all Thrix could utter. He sat back in his chair and frowned. He paused to consider something, “I was right! My theory was right!”

Thrix clapped his hands together and rested his snout on his index fingers.

“Right about what?” asked the Scrul.

“He won’t admit it, but he’s been looking for what I have long hypothesised… the one thing that could spell the end for our glorious empire!”

“There’s more.”

Thrix cocked his head to the left, “more?”

“Yes. But I should really be speaking to your father about this.”

“Nonsense!” snapped Thrix; “this has always been my speciality. In the absence of my father, I order you to tell me!”

The Scrul blinked all three sets of eyelids and shook his head. He hated scientists. “Not only is he immune, but a cursory scan of his genetic structure showed an exact match with Isolate alpha-gamma 987.”

Thrix opened his arms out towards the viewscreen, “unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable!”

“I’m confused.”

Thrix activated a small console on the arm of his chair. “I am transporting the Isolate to you now.”

“For the purpose of?”

“A small test, Scrul. I want you to release the Isolate, and we’ll just,” he smiled, “see what happens.”

“It doesn’t look good,” said Swindle, packing away the Medi-Scan.

Onslaught gently pressed down on Vortex’s armour. It started to cave in like aluminium foil, but suddenly gave way as Onslaught’s finger poked a large hole into it.

Vortex groaned in pain, “I don’t suppose your latent Autobot personality feels guilty for punching me earlier?”

“As if!” joked Onslaught.

The Combaticon Leader rose to his feet, scared now to touch Vortex again. “When Brawl and Blast Off return we will get you back to Cybertron and have the medics there take a good look at you.”

“I don’t see them,” said Swindle, “what are they doing?”

It had taken Jose weeks to persuade her to come out here.

With her father as mayor of the small town of Puesdo, Rosita was worried of what the town folk might have to say about their illicit rendez-vu in the back of his soft-top Volkswagen.

“Una cara tan hermosa, mi querido,” he said, stroking her cheek with his left hand and pushing his thick-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose with his right.

She tensed as he delicately undid the buttons of her blouse. “No pienso que soy listo,” she said nervously.

Jose leant in to kiss her neck and whispered, “apenas quisiera que usted aspirara mis bolas.”

Rosita let out a squeal as the shadow of Brawl’s formidable robot form loomed over the car.

“Well,” he said excitedly, as he clasped his giant hand around Jose’s waist, lifting him out of the car. “Lookee what we got here!”

Brawl brought the terrified human to his face and looked deep into his fear-filled eyes. Holding the human in his right hand, Brawl curled the middle finger behind the thumb of his left hand and flicked Jose squarely in the face!

The Combaticon laughed loudly as he turned the dead human around to see the arms of his glasses protruding from the back of his skull. He threw the lifeless body to the ground and made a move for Rosita.

“Brawl!” scolded Blast Off, “we’re supposed to be looking for that Khyaxian!”

“Aww, Ah’m just playin’.”

Blast Off growled at him and snatched the woman from his hands and threw her to the ground. “There,” he said coldly as he lowered his heel over her body and ground her bones against the rocks, twisting his leg, “playtime’s over.”

Brawl just shrugged and turned away, disappointed that his fun had been quelled.

“Onslaught wants that Khyaxian found, and I don’t want to—“

Blast Off’s words were cut short as he noticed a familiar sight moving across the horizon towards them. “It can’t be…”

Brawl turned to see what was wrong. “Holy slag!” he cried, “the Swarm!”

Onslaught cursed the rocky ground beneath his feet. “What’s taking them so long!”

“I think I see them now,” said Swindle, “and it looks like they’re in a hurry!”

Onslaught zoomed his optics to see what was going on. “It can’t be…”

He leant down and picked Vortex in his arms. He turned to Swindle and barked, “transform and get the hell out of here!”

Swindle didn’t argue at the sight of the Swarm and he transformed and sped off, just as Blast Off screamed overhead in shuttle mode.

Onslaught slung Vortex over his shoulder and ran. But it was no use. The Swarm had soon caught up with them and began swirling around them in a circular frenzy. Brawl, Swindle and Blast Off returned to robot mode and stood by Onslaught’s side.

“Initiate personal detonation sequence?” asked Blast Off.

“Hold,” said his leader, checking himself for using one of Soundwave’s catchphrases.

The Swarm continued to dance around the Combaticons. They tried hard to follow its seemingly random movements, but failed to keep up.

“B-boss?” cried Brawl, starting to panic.

Onslaught put a calming hand on his shoulder, “it should have consumed us by now. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

The Swarm coalesced into a dense mass and started to take form, mimicking the appearance of Onslaught himself. It became denser still as a humanoid Cybertronian form defined itself.

“It’s him,” breathed Onslaught.

“Who?” cried Swindle, as a clone of Onslaught’s past life – Obsidian – stood before them.

Onslaught could not believe his optics. “Mindset.”

Onslaught couldn’t remove his gaze from the past.

His optics bore an invisible beam of fascination right through the robot standing in front of him. He uttered the name again, as if repeating it over and over would make sense of the situation. During the Combaticons’ time with the Empire, Onslaught had hacked files on his fission brother; how the Swarm on Karn had consumed him. And yet, here he was: a finite portion of the Swarm, reconstituted into the robot looking blankly back at him.

“Mindset.”

Onslaught moved his hand towards the robot; half expecting his movements to be mimicked like a reflection. He waved his hand in front of Mindset’s optics. Nothing. Onslaught smiled under his mask and pressed Mindset’s nose with his index finger. Still nothing!

He’s lost it, thought Swindle, nervously clutching the Khyaxian device. He rolled it around in his palm, considering the damage it had done to Vortex – who was currently lying behind the wall of four Combaticons. He was sure that somehow it could probably be used to save his life. Swindle checked his thoughts: never mind Vortex, think what he could get as a trade!

Onslaught took a step back. He had given up. He slowly turned around to see how Vortex was doing.

Mindset’s left optic twitched and he suddenly pulled a laser blaster from behind his back and shot the device from Swindle’s hand. He then aligned the smoking weapon at Vortex and squeezed the trigger.

“Put down the weapon,” Onslaught said sternly. The four active Combaticons trained their weapons at Mindset; the urge to obliterate him and protect their friend quickly overshadowed what curiosity they had.

Mindset didn’t move. He focused on Vortex as an alien mental command flowed through his neural network. Remove all evidence.

Before he could react, Onslaught lifted from the ground with his left leg and kicked the weapon from Mindset’s hand with his right. Onslaught snatched the weapon from the air and landed in a crouch. He magna-locked both weapons to his hips and back-flipped over Brawl, Blast Off and Swindle. He landed by Vortex and scooped him up in his arms.

“Fire at will!” he cried as he turned and fled the scene.

Blast Off, Swindle and Brawl pumped the triggers of their respective weapons, firing ionic particles, explosive pellets and electrons at Mindset. The robot dissipated instantly and, now back as a portion of the Swarm, lifted into the air like a plume of soot.

“Hold your fire!” shouted Blast Off, “our weapons have no effect on the Swarm.”

“Not hand-held,” countered Brawl as he transformed to tank mode. His twin sonic cannons pumped 300 decibels of sound energy into the Swarm. It separated into four or five discreet masses and made off in the direction where Onslaught had taken Vortex.

Onslaught was slowing down. The rocky Mexican terrain was not the easiest to negotiate and carrying Vortex was practically impossible. Every time he shifted positions, he punctured new holes in his weakened armour with is fingers. Onslaught stopped suddenly and gently lowered Vortex to the ground.

“And this isn’t helping much, either!” he said as he reached behind and removed his photon missile launcher.

“You might need that,” strained Vortex.

“Right now, I need to get you somewhere safe,” Onslaught said as he picked Vortex back up, “whatever’s going on, it looks like you’ve been selected as a target. And let’s face it, you’re in no state to look after yourself.”

“Thanks.”

Onslaught looked into Vortex’s fading optics, “hey, we all need someone to get there.”

Blast Off chased after the Swarm, firing powerful X-rays. Below, Swindle had joined Brawl in vehicle mode and both were firing up into the sky. All three trying – and failing – to hit their swirling target.

Blast Off’s left wing was perforated by an explosive shell. ”Ouch!”

“Huh, huh,” chuckled Brawl, “sorry buddy, but the Swarm is messin’ up mah dang targeting systems.”

“Liar,” said Swindle as his scatter-blaster swung round 360 degrees, firing pellets into the sky.

Brawl zoomed his turret sights up ahead, “we’re about to catch up to the boss!”

Blast Off accelerated and flew through the Swarm, hoping his afterburners might ignite it somehow. No such luck. A part of the Swarm broke away and seeped into Blast Off’s armour, devouring his central fuel line. Energon leaked out into the air and was instantly ignited by the heat from Blast Off’s afterburners.

Onslaught shielded his optics from the explosion and Blast Off dropped from the sky. The space shuttle plummeted into the ground, nose first. The Swarm also dropped from the sky. It fell on the rocky ground like a black hailstorm.

Swindle and Brawl transformed to robot mode. Swindle scooped up some of the Swarm with his left hand, “is it dead?”

“I don’t know,” replied Onslaught, “but Vortex will be if we don’t get some help.”

He pointed at Brawl and Swindle, “you two. Get over to Blast Off, see if he’s okay. I want him fit to fly and ready to get us out of here.”

Swindle dusted the Swarm from his palms and grabbed Brawl’s shoulder, “stop staring into space and get moving!”

“Ah thought ah saw somethin’.”

“It’s the heat. Now come on!”

Onslaught knelt over his casualty and opened a panel on his hip. A thin tube ejected itself and Onslaught connected it to a port in Vortex’s shoulder.

“You’re losing energon fast. This should help, but I am running low myself.”

“You’ve done a lot of heavy lifting today.”

Onslaught looked down at his chest, flexed his shoulders back and laughed, “heh, who needs circuit-steroids!”

As Onslaught carried on doing what he could for Vortex, the Swarm began to move. It slowly towards itself like iron filings towards a giant magnet. It gathered and bonded. And gradually – silently – reformed back into robot mode.

Onslaught felt a tap on his back, “is there anything I can do to help?”

“You!” Onslaught spun around and grabbed Mindset by the throat.

The Combaticon lifted the robot off the ground and Mindset tried to release the tension by grabbing Onslaughts forearms. “B-behind you!” he gasped as the Khyaxian Strife-Fighter de-cloaked and shimmered in the heat.

Swindle slid his palm over Blast Off’s nosecone, tracing the dents and curves, “you’re lucky, my friend.”

Blast Off transformed, “lucky?”

“Not too much damage,” replied Swindle, “I could still trade you in for five Cosmos’s.”

“Just concentrate on fixing my fuel lines so we can get off this sod-ball!”

“It’s the boss!”

“No, Brawl,” said Swindle as he zoomed his optics on the lone figure walking towards them, “it’s… it’s Mindset!”

The three Combaticons charged towards Mindset, pulling their weapons from behind their backs. Mindset stopped and held out his palms.

“Where’s the boss?” demanded Brawl, “and Vortex!”

Blast Off pushed the barrel of his ionic blaster into Mindset’s forehead, punctuating the question.

Mindset wrapped his fingers around the barrel and pulled it down. He silently pointed to the sky where the Khyaxian Strife-Fighter painted a fiery trail in the blue Mexican sky.

This world has no name.

Thrix stood on the palace balcony and surveyed the horizon, watching the royal shuttle disappear from view. Everything he saw would soon be his; every building, every Khyaxian. He watched the streets below as the followers of his father traded and policed. His homeworld had no name, but it was well known throughout the galaxy. The Khyaxians were enforcers. They were not scared to bring justice to worlds that the Galactic Authorities feared to touch. The Khyaxians were legend, and soon their glorious empire would be his to command.

And it would all start as soon as Onslaught arrived.

Thrix was eager to get the Cybertronian into his laboratory. Was he an anomaly, or was he engineered? Did some bright spark foresee the Khyaxians’ plans, or was he just made that way?

“You have a communication, sire.”

Thrix turned with a start and snatched the communicator from the Scrul who had hurried onto the balcony, “I trust you have left Earth without incident.”

“Of course,” said the pilot of the Strife-Fighter, “I have both On-Slaught and Vor-Tex on board.”

“Excellent work, Scrul. My father will-“

“Where is the Khyogi?”

“I’m afraid you have missed my father yet again!” Thrix said with a laugh. “He and my two brothers have just left the planet. Their Seminal Phase began just moments ago and they have been taken to one of the Fields.”

“You haven’t gone with them?”

Thrix laughed again, “you know me, I always was a little out of synch from the rest of the family!”

“Sire, I had to leave the isolate on Earth.” The Scrul paused, looking for the right words, “it had an altercation with the other Transformers. I am almost out of communications range with the Cerebrocurb.”

“Isolate alpha-gamma-987 has served its purpose. We have no further use for it.”

Thrix paused and raised an eyebrow as if a flashing lightbulb had ethereally appeared above his head.

“On second thoughts,” he said, “I may need a few more pawns if I am to fully convince my father.

“I have one last command for the isolate.”

Swindle watched quietly as Brawl continued to beat the white and green robot into a dulled tinfoil pulp. There was one thing about Brawl – when his fuse blew, it was a hurricane!

With his leader gone, Blast Off injured, Brawl choleric and the robot to blame probably about to turn into the Swarm at any second, Swindle decided it was time to stop thinking about himself and take stock of the situation.

A thousand thoughts ran through his cerebral cortex. ‘What would Onslaught do?’ On some levels, Swindle admired his leader. He collected his words, ever ready to trade them in for victory.

Blast-Off danced around Brawl as if he was waiting for an opening to get in a couple of punches of his own. From the corner of his optics he saw Swindle silently standing there and shot him a glance that said, ‘do something!’

Swindle rolled his nervous fingers over the grip of his gyro gun. He initiated his vocaliser, but it was if the words were not his own: “Brawl! Blast Off! Pin him down!”

Brawl looked at Swindle, dodged a punch and said, “oh, ah’m gonna listen to an order from you?”

Swindle was shouting now. “I am the second highest-ranking Combaticon! And I say pin him down!”

Brawl grudgingly complied, throwing the robot to the ground and pushing his knee into the back of his neck. Blast Off stamped down on his feet.

Swindle walked over and pressed his gun at the back of Mindset’s helmet, “you’re gonna give me some answers you son of a glitch!”

Mindset howled in pain but offered no explanations.

“You will talk, or you will d—"

A barely audible beep interrupted the new Combaticon leader.

“Quiet,” he whispered, kneeling down and tracing the subtle noise. Swindle pushed Brawl’s knee from Mindset’s neck and watched as a small device underneath his cranium flashed and beeped.

Swindle traced the outline of the device with his finger as it lay lifelessly in his open palm. The beeping and flashing had stopped about an hour ago, but Swindle was still transfixed.

“All done,” said Mindset as he stood up from repairing Blast Off’s ruptured fuel line.

The space shuttle transformed, “I still don’t know why we’re trusting this guy. He may look like Onslaught did back on Cybertron, but this is not our leader!”

Brawl stood silently, arms crossed and glared at Swindle as he gave the device to Mindset.

“I thought we’d been through this,” explained Swindle, “judging by its position on the body, this thing was controlling Mindset’s thoughts. Obviously by that slimy little lizard that took Vortex and Onslaught.”

“I think it can be used to track the Khyaxian ship and we can find your leader,” said Mindset.

Blast Off snatched the device from his hand, “it’s a mind-control device, not a plot device!”

The joke was lost on Mindset, “it’s emitting a signal we can use to track the source.”

“Straight into a trap!” cried Blast Off. He turned to Swindle, “I don’t know why you’re going with this.”

“Because,” urged Swindle, “this is the only chance we have of saving Vortex and Onslaught.”

He looked at Brawl, hoping for some support. Brawl looked at Blast Off, “well, ah do miss bein’ Bruticus.”

Blast Off threw his arms in the air, “whatever. Just don’t expect me to trust one of the Liege Maximo’s Decepticons.”

Mindset looked confused, “Liege Maximo?”

“You don’t know who the Liege Maximo is?”

“I guess I’ve been part of the Swarm for a very long time,” said Mindset, “I am Councillor Obsidian of the Autobot Elders.”