Six Lasers Over Cybertron

Sunspot tapped his fingers against his console to the tempo of a Newton’s cradle. He viewed the Universe of 2932 through one of the Axalon’s view screens. It was majestic and unyielding, with starlight glinting in a million places on a canvas made of nothing. The young Maximal sighed, the spectacular view failing to tease his optics. He was bored.

“What’s the matter, kid?” asked Speedtrap. “A young bot like you should be ecstatic to be on a deep space exploration mission like this.” As ever, it was hard to tell if Speedtrap was being sarcastic or not. Of all his fellow Maximals, Sunspot had a hard time figuring Speedtrap out. He was a robot of all trades, and master of them all too. Enforcer, demolitions, sharpshooter, energon miner; you name it, Speedtrap had done it.

“It’s the opening of the Six Lasers over Cybertron amusement park today,” Sunspot finally replied; chin resting on the palm of his hand.

“Trust me, kid,” said Speedtrap, “there are a whole load of better places on Cybertron to spend your credits.”

“Somehow I don’t think Sunspot would be interested in any place where you get served by droids without their torso plates,” said Rhinox, the Axalon’s pilot.

Speedtrap turned to Rhinox. “Say, that’s right. Weren’t you the designer for some of the rides, right before you were transferred to the Protofo—”

“That’s enough, Speedtrap,” interrupted the ship’s captain.

Speedtrap realised that Sunspot knew nothing of Protoform X and changed the subject back to the amusement park. So many secrets the Maximal Elders had. Speedtrap wondered what else they were keeping secret. He cast an eye on his captain: a Maximal introduced by the Elders as Optimus and all-to-suddenly assigned to lead the crew of the Axalon. There were plenty of rumours surrounding his origin, ranging from some kind of Maximal super weapon to being the offspring of Optimus Prime himself. Not that Speedtrap believed in Optimus Prime, the Elders had controlled all military history and the Maximals only knew what they were spoon-fed at the academies. “So, what’s so important about this slaggin’ park anyway?”

“There’s the space slides and the galaxy coaster,” Sunspot replied excitedly. “And all my friends back home will be at the grand opening.”

The kid’s got a lot of growing up to do, thought Speedtrap.

Broadband sat at his desk in the communications wing of the Council Citadel. With one hand on the side of his helmet and the other at the controls of his frequency monitor, he was lost in deep concentration. He was a paranoid Maximal, convinced that one day the Predacons would attack again and start a second Great War. Officially it was his downtime, but unofficially he remained at his post, monitoring the airwaves for any coded Predacon transmissions. He never found any, but that little gnat of paranoia continued to bite at the back of his neck and he spent decacycles at his monitor.

Broadband jumped as a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder. “Where else would I find you?” Firewall asked rhetorically.

“Don’t do that to me, Firewall,” Broadband growled. “You know how engrossed I get.”

Firewall thrust a plexi-chip into his friend’s visor. “Which is why it’s time for you to loosen those lug-nuts and join me at the opening of the Six Lasers over Cybertron!”

Broadband grabbed the plexi-chip and checked it for authentication. “Are these tickets genuine? How did you afford them?”

“Duh!” smiled Firewall. “Courtesy of the Elders, I am safety inspector of the amusement park after all.”

“You security types get all the perks,” sighed Broadband. “I could pretend I want to go, but I have my work here.”

“Which is exactly why you need a break. You’ll go crazy in here.”

Broadband shook his head. “Can’t you take Nightscream with you?”

Firewall laughed. “Hey, I like the guy, but Nightscream’s so annoying. I can’t spend a whole day with him.” He took the tickets from Broadband’s hand. “Look, I’m going regardless, but it won’t be the same without you.”

The Maximal communications officer went back to his work. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

Tarantulas chuckled. Then he paused, and then he chuckled again. “Why so nervous, Megatron?”

“Because, my laconic lieutenant, the very fate of the Predacon race will be determined by the success of our mission.”

In the darkness of their secret hideout, Tarantulas could make out the shimmer of the stolen golden disc. “I’ve done my part,” continued Megatron. “I’m just waiting for you to get us off planet without being noticed. If the Elders or the Tripredacus Council know we have the golden disc, then our lives won’t be worth living.”

“Have a little faith, Megatron,” Tarantulas snarled. “I’ll have us off the planet and on our way before anyone even has a chance to respond.”

In a rare public appearance, the three Maximal Elders stood atop the podium in front of a large statue of Optimus Prime. In front of them stood a thousand Maximals, every one of them excited about the opening of the Six Lasers over Cybertron. On a world of peace, the Elders reasoned, it was a wise investment to keep the population distracted while they concentrated on launching ships like the Axalon and Aurora and finding the real Cybertron.

Among the crowd were Firewall (“I heard that you can see all the way to Neo-Kalis from the top of the galaxy coaster.”), and Broadband (“I heard that somebody somewhere actually gives a smelt.”).

“Fellow Maximals,” began Leontos, the smallest of the Elders, “it gives us great pleasure to open the Six Lasers over Cybertron amusement park. Although he cannot be here today, we would very much to thank Rhinox, chief engineer and designer of the park, and his successor—”

Loxos, the largest of the three Elders, moved towards Leontos and whispered something to him.

“—Who cannot be here either,” continued Leontos, a little bemused. “But I am sure he would take great pleasure in seeing such an enthusiastic crowd.”

The crowd cheered, Firewall whooped, and Broadband folded his arms and rolled his optics.

The third of the Elders, Accipitos, stepped forward and fired six laser bolts from his wing launchers. “We declare the park… open!”

Megatron’s renegade squad had moved into position upon Tarantulas’ instruction. “Not long now,” he chortled as the laser bolts fired over their heads, one for each member of the squad: There was Megatron and Tarantulas, of course; Punch-out, Megatron’s stupid yet sinewy personal bodyguard; Waspinator, whom Megatron had come across in a bar in Neo-Kalis; Pteron, an excellent marksman and aerial warrior, if a little arrogant; and Megatron’s second-in-command, Dinobot.

Dinobot sat as he always did, brooding and cross-armed. He had little faith in the other members of the team, as the saying goes, ‘you pay peanuts…’ But the potential rewards for succeeding far outweighed his feelings for the others. He closed his eyes and imagined a Cybertron were the Predacons ruled and were no longer looked upon as second-class citizens. Not a single Predacon had been invited to the opening of the Six Lasers over Cybertron.

Firewall and Broadband were in the front row of the galaxy coaster. The ride boasted nearly ten micro quads of magtrack. (The harnesses simply hung from the track, supported only by magnets; it was Rhinox’s own design.) Broadband shifted uncomfortably in his harness as the plastine (another of Rhinox’s innovations, an oil-based polymer that could take any shape and solidify into a flexible material once an electrical charge was applied) safety coil wrapped around his frame. “I think mine’s too tight,” he complained.

“Nonsense!” said Firewall. “I tested it all myself, it’ll keep you safe.”

The two Maximals gripped onto the plastine as the ride hummed into life. There was a sudden jolt as the floor lowered away from their feet; they hung there from their harnesses, supported only by the plastine restraints. Their harnesses slowly climbed the first, main ascent. Broadband clenched his teeth, he hated heights.

“Ooh, I can see my habitation unit from here!” chirped Firewall.

Broadband glanced over his right shoulder at the rest of the theme park. The galaxy coaster was the focal point of the ever-shrinking park below with its twists and turns and loops. The engineers must have been geniuses to have concocted such a labyrinth. It was like a maze, anything could be hidden amongst it all.

There was another jolt as the two Maximals neared the top of the ascent. Broadband stifled a nervous yelp. He and his friend’s primary fuel pumps were charged with energon and timorous excitement.

Pteron readied the Darkside for launch, tapping at a myriad of buttons on his console. Behind him Megatron sat at his command chair, ready to give the order to launch, waiting for Tarantulas’s signal.

“By the Pit!” exclaimed Broadband as the galaxy coaster reached the pinnacle of the first ascent. “You really can see Neo-Kalis from here!”

“What did I tell you?” said Firewall. “This is going to be unforgettable!”

The humming got louder as the galaxy coaster prepared to launch its first visitors downwards into the first loop of the ride. A recorded voice blared out of a loudspeaker: “Don’t look down,” it chuckled.

There was a clang and a jerk and Firewall and Broadband’s harnesses were released. Broadband felt his coolant reserves rush into his head as they powered towards the first loop.

“Now!” shouted Megatron. “For the glory of the Predacons!”

The Darkside’s engines ignited into life, thrusting the battle cruiser skywards from its hidden position. The galaxy coaster’s co-designer, Tarantulas, let out a sinister laugh.

“What the slag—!” screamed Broadband at over one hundred miles an hour upon seeing the Darkside rise from underneath the first loop, twisting and breaking the track in front of him.

“Th-this isn’t part of the ride!” The harnesses slid off the track where it had been broken. They were now in freefall.

Broadband grappled with the plastine restraints with a panicky fervour. “I can’t get out of the harness!”

Before any more words of hysteric terror could be uttered by either Firewall or Broadband, the Darkside rose into the sky, and the ground rose up even quicker. The two Maximals died instantly as they hit the metal ground, still trapped in their harnesses, at terminal velocity.

The Darkside escaped the Cybertronian atmosphere, almost unnoticed due to the pandemonium below caused by Tarantulas’ scheme.

Megatron smiled. “This day belongs to the Predacons, yes!”

Like a drunken actor he pointed to the front view screen and ordered Pteron to activate the Transwarp drive. “To Earth!”