eugenesis-text

‘Think about it, Prowl. I’m not going anywhere. But unless that changes, the next Autobot to loiter
outside this door might just get to hear your life story.’
Siren waited for the audience to gather around the comms screen and nodded for Fastlane to reestablish
contact. The transmission was slapped on screen, jittery and sharp, rippled like newsreel.
‘That’s Death’s Head alright,’ said Wheeljack. ‘He’s a bounty hunter, and about as deceitful as they
come. What’s he doing on the Ark’
Siren opened comms. ‘This is commander Siren of Autobase 2. We’ve received your distress call.’
‘My name’s Death’s Head. I’m the sole survivor of the Autobot City team. The Quintessons attacked
us in hyperspace. When we tried to phase back into reg-space the transwarp generator backfired and killed
the crew.’
‘Everyone except you.’
‘I’m not a Transformer, eh I have a different… resilience. What’s the situation on Cybertron’
‘Hold on, Death’s Head, you’re breaking up.’ Siren froze transmission and turned to the others.
‘You’re right, we can’t trust him. For all we know the Quintessons ransacked the Ark and hired him as
bait.’
Nightbeat displaced Fastlane at the controls with a gentle ‘May I’ and re-opened channels. ‘I think I
know what’s going on,’ he said to Siren. ‘Tell Magnus we’ve passed the test, Death’s Head. He can come
out now.’
Ultra Magnus stepped into view. ‘Sorry about all that, Delphi. How did you guess’
‘Death’s Head’s story didn’t add up,’ said Nightbeat. ‘Quite apart from the dubious “lone survivor”
scenario, we were expected to believe that a bounty hunter would bother making contact with his dead
employer’s teammates I don’t think so. Plus he used a coded frequency to make contact. So I’m guessing
that after you guys survived re-entry into reg-space you paid a non-Transformer to make first contact and
assess the situation on Cybertron.’
‘I had no choice. It was the safest way of ascertaining what had happened in our absence.’
‘How much of Death’s Head’s story was true’ asked Siren, annoyed at being duped.
‘Autobot City has been destroyed, but so has the Quintesson mothership. We’ve sustained
considerable losses. Our stasis blocks are full to capacity.’ He saw a familiar face in the Delphi crowd.
‘Wheeljack I thought you were dead!’
‘Not quite. I was with Mainframe and Centurion inside Metroplex.’
‘It’s not good down here,’ continued Siren. ‘The Quintessons have taken over the planet. Everyone
else is dead or imprisoned. We need you here as soon as possible.’
‘Our ETA is two days, maximum. We’ll make contact when we reach orbit, not before.’
‘Understood. It’s good to know there’s someone else out there.’
‘The feeling’s mutual. Magnus out.’
Several hundred miles away Q-217 pulled off his mouthpiece, upturned his chair and bounded to
Quantax’s throne. ‘Commander, I’m detecting movement on the west wing: gliders! They tried to duck
under the radar!’
‘At last!’ Quantax prodded his Hot Rod footstool. ‘How many’
‘Five, commander. They’ve landed on the uppermost elevation.’
‘Five’ Quantax started to laugh but checked himself, as if the joke was suddenly on him. ‘They send
five against an entire army What kind of insult is this’ He leapt up and grabbed a weapon.
‘Level 19,’ said Q-217, re-empting the question. ‘Heading this way.’
Quantax scooped Hot Rod by the scruff of his crumbling neck and dragged him towards the door.
‘Let’s give ’em what they came for.’
‘Good news, Prowl. Providing Delphi has an arrival point, the matter transporter can be used as a
teleporter.’ Perceptor waited for a reaction. ‘With your permission I’ll begin diverting power.’