Superheroes

Underneath the debris, the rubble, and the wreckage lay true superheroes.

The starboard-aft portion of the Aktirak had been turned into a makeshift med-bay. Pitstop and Tow-Line only had their personal tools at their disposal as they worked assiduously on Ultra Magnus and Sideburn. Pitstop tightened the last rivet on the cadet’s visor and administered an energon infusion. He turned his attention to Tow-Line, who was working on Ultra Magnus, giving the energon time to stir Sideburn back online.

“I don’t think he’s going to make it, Pitstop,” Tow-Line said, reaching a hand into the gaping wound in Ultra Magnus’ abdomen. He had cauterised the leaking oil and coolant and patched up burnt out circuitry, but there was still a long way to go. “I mean there’s at least three vital components that we need to replace.”

Pitstop took the arc-welder from Tow-Line’s hand and peered into Magnus’ dead optics. “We’ll repair what we can, and I’ll donate any components that need replacing.” He paused. “If need be.”

Tow-Line put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I like your optimism, but stasis lock is only a temporary protective measure, we don’t have much time.”

“Like I said, I’ll donate what we need,” Pitstop reiterated. “No one’s going offline on my watch.”

“At least we only have one of our commanders to worry about.”

“Stop looking at me!” Fire Convoy shouted to his crew. His outer armour had been smelted inside the volcano, stripped away leaving only the inner robot behind. He didn’t care that he’d reduced the pressure enough inside the volcano to let it erupt normally, and saved the planet Earth from splitting in half, and the lives of its six billion inhabitants. He just wanted everyone to stop looking at him. He didn’t know if they were staring because of his actions or because he looked like him.

“Sir,” Rapid Run said, trying not to look directly at his commander, “Megatron is travelling north towards Alaska, and the lock we have on the spark of the original Megatron seems to be following him.”

Great, Fire Convoy thought to himself. The coldest part of the planet, where I won’t even be strong enough to lift a Minicon.

“No wait,” said Rapid Run. “It’s changing course, heading towards Europe.” He slapped the side of his monitor, assuming there was a glitch. “No, back north again.”

“Strategy, Wildride,” Fire Convoy commanded.

“Keep tracking the spark. That body that’s housing it, Cryotek I think Tow-Line said, must surely be important to Megatron.” The Autobot strategist looked up at his commander. “He may even follow it to somewhere warmer for you, sir.”

Fire Convoy nodded his head and Midnight Express set a lock onto Cryotek. Fire Convoy stepped up to the main view screen, scrutinising his reflection. He felt nervous and self-conscious, open to now to the theories of his followers. They all knew now where Fire Convoy came from, the likeness was uncanny. How could he not be the biomorphic offspring of the Autobots’ greatest leader?

“Optimus Prime.”

Bumblebee said his leader’s name again: “Optimus Prime. Can you hear me?” The small Autobot began to panic, fearing the worst. His leader had been dormant for days, not uttering a word since Star Saber strung Bumblebee up next to him. Bumblebee looked up (well towards his feet, for he was upside down), he could hear footsteps from outside the door. Blaster’s found me, he thought.

Optimus groaned, and Bumblebee turned sharply towards him. He winced in pain. The movement had pulled at the grappling hook embedded in his shoulder.

“Bumblebee?”

“Right here, Optimus. How do you feel?”

“Don’t worry about me. How are you?”

“I’ll live. Well, until Star Saber gets back, I guess.”

Bumblebee could hear the door open slowly. We’re gonna be okay, he thought to himself. Blaster will get us out of this.

“How did you find me?” Optimus Prime’s voice was slow and tired, deep and full of a lifetime of regret. Bumblebee took comfort in the sound.

“It’s a long story. I came in here looking for Ultra Magnus. He was incarcerated, see.”

“Ultra Magnus?”

“Yeah, he’d attacked Perceptor. But he’d been putting chips in all our necks, trying to make us forget you or something.” Bumblebee stopped and reminded himself to stop moving his neck. “But when I arrived at the citadel the chip became deactivated. So once I found Magnus, I wanted to come and get you too.”

“On your own?”

Bumblebee could see a silhouette of an Autobot in the doorway. “No, Blaster’s been helping me.”

“Where’s Ultra Magnus?”

“Well, this is where it gets more complicated. He’d been offered a new body by Star—“

“No,” Optimus whispered. “Listen to me Bumblebee. Star Saber cannot be trusted.”

“No kidding,” Bumblebee said.

“Thank you for looking for me, my friend,” Optimus said, his voice a little less remorseful.

The Autobot in the doorway was Blaster, Bumblebee was sure of it.

“Well, I did have some help.”

“You didn’t.”

“I didn’t?”

“I was told that Blaster killed himself.”

“Yes, he did,” Bumblebee became a little irritated. “But he came back. He’s been helping me find you.”

Blaster walked from the doorway into the room, ducking under the three monitor screens.

“Bumblebee,” Optimus’s voice became low again. “He didn’t come back.”

“But—”

“I know you, Bumblebee. You’ve always been plagued by self-doubt, low self-esteem. But despite that you had the courage to come and find me.”

Blaster stood silently, smiling proudly at Bumblebee. “I did it because you’re important to the Autobots. All of us. And you’re important to me. You’re my hero,” the little Autobot said.

Optimus laughed a little, the first time in years. “No, Bumblebee. You came here all on your own, against the odds to find me. You’re my hero.”

Bumblebee looked to where Blaster was standing, but his best friend, the ethereal manifestation of his self-doubt, had disappeared.

Sideburn came online, the halogen bulbs above him slowly coming into focus. He sat up with a jolt with his hand on his forehead. “Speedbreaker! Where is he?”

Pitstop walked slowly over to the young cadet. He rubbed his middle finger with his thumb down by his legs. No matter how many times he did this, it never got easier. The Autobot medic sat next to Sideburn on his slab and turned to him. “I’m sorry, Sideburn. Speedbreaker didn’t make it.”

Warcry and Ox held Oilslick down on the floor of the Aktirak’s cargo bay. Speedtrap paced around him, secretly relieved that the situation had removed focus away from his knowledge of the Axalon’s defence systems. “Who were you transmitting to?” the enforcer asked.

“He has no right to speak!” Ox said, punching Oilslick in the mouth.

“No need to be so melodramatic, Ox,” Chicane said, adjusting the aperture of his visor, filming the scene.

“It’s got to be Star Saber,” Crosswise hypothesised. “Reporting everything back to him, as he waits for his little surprise for Ultra Magnus—”

“That was only Pitstop’s theory,” countered Rev. “We don’t know for sure.”

“Come on,” said Crosswise, “Fire Convoy is without his trailer now… If Pitstop is right, the two of them combining might be the only way to defeat Megatron.”

“That’s not the issue right now,” Hot Shot said, walking up to Oilslick. The group leader tapped his cheek, thinking. “If we go to Fire Convoy with this, he’ll kill Oilslick for sure.”

“Fine by me,” Warcry said.

“Best that we keep this matter to ourselves. Speedtrap, search Oilslick for any more transmitting equipment and then seal him in here.”

“Yes, sir,” said Speedtrap. He turned to his leader and thought of something. He shook his head and began searching Oilslick.

Sideburn sat quietly at Ultra Magnus’ side. Pitstop and Tow-Line, at the cadet’s request, left the two of them alone. Sideburn tapped lightly at Magnus’ forearm. “Can you hear me?” he asked quietly.

There was no response.

“Come on, sir,” said Sideburn. “I need you. I can’t lose my best friend and my commander all at once.”

Ultra Magnus’ optics flickered into life and he turned his head slowly to Sideburn. “Hey,” he said weakly, “don’t give up on me just yet.”

Sideburn smiled.

“So what happened? Did—”

“It all worked out in the end. Fire Convoy did it, he saved the Earth.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Ultra Magnus was about to smile, but saw the sadness in Sideburn’s visor. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Speedbreaker, sir. He’s gone.”

“Oh no,” said Ultra Magnus.

“Pitstop said he and Tow-Line found us in the wreckage of the Axalon. Speedbreaker was lying on top of me, using himself as a shield to protect me from the explosion.”

“You should be very proud of him.”

“Oh, I am sir. But. Well, I miss him, you know.”

“I know you do.”

There was a slow silence between the two Autobots. Ultra Magnus struggled for comforting words to say to his pupil. He couldn’t think of anything.

“He might come back,” Sideburn said excitedly.

“How do you mean?”

“You know, reincarnated. His spark might come back into another body. He might be on Cybertron right now!”

Ultra Magnus didn’t know what to say. Sideburn was young, open-minded, and hopeful. But Ultra Magnus had learnt that only very rarely does someone come back. How many times had he wished for Thunderclash to come back? “I’m not sure, Sideburn, I’m not sure.”

Sideburn’s excitement faded. “But I won’t ever see him again. When I leave you and enter the bridge with the others, he won’t be there.”

“I know.”

“It’s so unfair. We were going to have this big race when we got back to Cybertron. He was so sure he would win, but I know I would.” Sideburn let slip a child-like laugh.

“Hold onto that thought, Sideburn. It’ll keep you sane.”

Just then, Pitstop returned to the med-bay. “You’re back online, Ultra Magnus,” he said, holding up some kind of remote monitoring device.

Sideburn smiled at Ultra Magnus, who looked back and smiled in return.

“Sideburn,” Pitstop said. “We, ah, found this after we tried to revive Speedbreaker.” The medic handed Sideburn the small plastine model of him that Speedbreaker had been working on.

If Sideburn were human, he would have bawled his eyes out.

“I just, ah, need to check something over here,” Pitstop said uncomfortably, walking off.

“I guess now you will always know how much you meant to him,” Ultra Magnus said.

Sideburn stayed silent. But after a while asked Ultra Magnus: “Sir, do you believe in reincarnation, that you used to be Scrounge?”

Magnus turned his head back and looked at the ceiling. He thought of the same thought that had raced around his mind since the day of Blaster’s autopsy. He thought of his creation, and he thought of Xenon. He thought of what the Keeper had told Grimlock and the others. He thought of Primus, and he thought of P.R.I.M.U.S. He thought of Scrounge, and he thought of Scrounge. And then he thought of Scrounge some more, always avoiding the answer to the question that he continually asked himself.

“Yes,” he told Sideburn.

“So many times I was asked why I simply did not just kill you and be done with it.”

Star Saber entered the room, and Bumblebee could see the light from the open doorway hinting at the sword in his hand.

“You could very nearly ruin everything, Bumblebee,” he hissed. “Groups of Autobots are massing at the walls of the citadel at this very moment.”

Star Saber turned away from Optimus and Bumblebee, drawing a curve in the air with his sword. “But events on Earth have taken a turn for the better, according to my agent. Fire Convoy is without his trailer and Ultra Magnus at death’s door. And they’re no closer to finding that spark that the Vok are so desperate for.”

The Autobot overlord turned back again. “It won’t be long now, and at last my revenge-plot will have reached a satisfying ending.” Star Saber paused, sliding his finger along the blade of his sword. “But you had to throw a spanner in the works, and if the merge doesn’t happen soon, I may have to kill you.

“Both of you.”

“But why?” Bumblebee asked, a little too loudly. “Why go to all this trouble to get back at Optimus?”

Star Saber sheathed his sword and stepped right up to Optimus Prime. He grabbed Optimus’s head and twisted it to face Bumblebee, pressing his own head up next to it. “Come now, Bumblebee, don’t you see it? Don’t you see the family resemblance?”