Scourge from the sky
A fanfic by Bill T. Taylor
a.k.a. RedStreak
The stars were twinkling over the Louisiana bayou with hardly a cloud in the sky. Crickets were chirping and the low growl of an alligator filled the air. Amid it all was a single small boat with a light hovering about it.
“Dang it all Mike! Ya got us lost out here again!” one man griped, “You said yer sense of dir-act-tion was purr-fact!”
The other, glancing at a map in the dim lamp light, replied in an equally heavy accent, “Well Golly Mister Gomer-G-Pile! I don’t see ya doin’ any better! I…say…is that an airplane?”
The two men looked south and saw a triad of blue lights in the distance. Excited at the prospect of being rescued, the pair started yelling “Yippee! We’re saved!” and began whistling and waving hands to attract attention. However, as the shriek of rockets grew louder and the lights blindingly brighter, then realized it wasn’t help coming for them.
Scourge’s plasma flares ignited the patch of wetlands below as he skimmed just above the marshy ground. “Damn this planet,” cursed Scourge, “Damn it to the fires of the eternal Pit itself!” He flew back into the sky, an arc of fading blue fire left in his wake.
To those on the surface of the Earth below, it appeared as if a huge meteor were streaking overhead, and paid little heed. However, one small plane carrying a handful of passengers wasn’t so fortunate.
From the pilot’s view, something dark with a shimmer of silver came at the aircraft head on. “Crap! It’s coming right for us!” he realized, taking the wheel and banking hard to the right.
Scourge in his hovercraft form clipped the human craft. The better half of the left wing was sheered off, the plane spinning out of control as Scourge flew off unconcerned. Inside people screamed several flying out of their seats and tumbling about the cabin.
“Raaaaawr!”
A jerk shuttered through the plane, a set of gold talons punching through the ceiling above. Swoop fluttered his pterosaur wings as his fellow Dinobots Sludge and Grimlock steadied the sides in their robot forms. With little effort the trio set the aircraft down on a modest sandbar.
Swoop transformed and looked skyward, eyeing the purple contrails suspiciously.
“You found what?” Springer yelled over his com-link. Rodimus Prime, Kup, and Blaster stood beside him, listening to the conversation from afar. “You sure?” Springer spoke to his silent counterpart on the other end of the airwaves, “Alright, I just hope this isn’t another ‘wild goose chase’ as the humans say. You and the other Dinobots just stand by with the humans. Springer out.”
“What was that all about?” Blaster asked as Springer clicked off his comlink.
Turning to the tall red Autobot, Springer replied to Blaster, “Grimlock and the Dinobots. Just rescued a plane over the Mississippi delta. Swoop claims he saw Scourge flying off in the distance, toward the north I believe.”
“Impossible!” Kup said, “We dumped Scourge into high orbit months ago! No way it could be him!”
Rodimus, scratching his chin in thought, stated, “Not impossible, but it doesn’t make sense either. Scourge’s repair systems might have been able to restore him, but I see no reason why he’d dare to return to Earth.”
“Maybe…he wants to get even,” Blaster suggested a hypothesis.
“Yeah, and given how far away Char is, and doubting how Galvatron would give ‘em a warm welcome,” Kup pointed out, “Earth is as good a choice as he’s got.”
Rodimus Prime, turning towards one console, decided, “May as well check it out. Springer, you, Broadside, and Silverbolt go investigate. Blaster, you and I need to journey to the Pentagon.”
“The Pentagon?” asked Blaster, “What for?”
“Call it a hunch, but I doubt Scourge would return without some secret plan to back him out,” Rodimus Prime replied.
Minutes later Springer entered the repair bay. Silverbolt was sitting in a large aluminum chair set beside one particular maintenance platform, the body of RedStreak still lying motionless atop it. Behind both was one pale monitor, a single line on it squiggling every other minute, beeping weakly.
“Silverbolt?” Springer said, looking toward the Aerialbot.
“Huh? Oh,” Silverbolt said, noticing Springer for the first time, “Sorry. Does Rodimus have an assignment he needs…”
“Yeah, he does,” Springer interrupted, “But it can wait one more minute. What’s RedStreak’s prognosis so far? Anything?”
Silverbolt sighed. He was no medical or mechanical expert, but had spent enough time beside the downed ‘bot to gauge his condition. “Minimal improvement in his condition. They say his brain unit is still locked-up on autonomic function. Nothing otherwise.”
Springer looked down slightly. “Yeah…well…they’ll eventually find some way to restore him,” he said, “Come on. I’ll explain our mission on the way Silverbolt.”
Later still, as Springer, Silverbolt, and Broadside all transformed and took off, Rodimus Prime drove east from Autobot City. Inside his large trailer Blaster sat on top of the stowed away laser cannon, Rewind and Steeljaw in turn stowed away in his chest compartment.
“Why are we headed to Washington D.C. Rodimus?” he asked Rodimus Prime, “No offense to the humans, but after Metroplex thrashed their place…we ain’t exactly the most popular figures there.”
“I know,” Prime’s voice replied, Rodimus more focused on the road, “I was the one who had to straighten out the mess, Matrix willing…but if the reports I heard about the Stunticons’ break-in there are consistent with what we find…Scourge, if he really is here, may be a bigger threat than I feared…more than ever.”
Another hour later, Broadside and the other flying Autobots dispatched were cruising a good five km over the Badlands of South Dakota. The terrain below was as bleak as one could imagine, the noon sun scorching the landscape below as the Autobots scanned for any sign of the rogue Decepticon.
“Negative on all radar and wavelength scans,” Broadside reported, “I’m trying to patch into local human stations, but so far nothing.”
Springer’s blades whirling loudly, he replied, “That sounds good so far I suppose. Still, I’d hate for it to turn out that we flew a few hundred miles for nothing. Silverbolt, how are things holding up on your end?”
“Eh…could be better,” the Aerialbot mumbled.
“Well it’s always good to spread your wings once in a while,” Springer told him, “Never good to sit in one place and rust up….”
A scream of engines caught Springer by surprise. He veered off just as Scourge whizzed by, flames spewing from his exhausts. “IT IS SCOUGE!” Springer yelled, “BROADSIDE, HOW COULD YOU HAVE MISSED HIM!”
“He must have been shadowing us in a blind spot!” the larger Autobot said.
“Let’s take him down Autobots!” Springer said, pursuing the Decepticon with weapons blazing.
Scourge quickly found himself in the midst of a hailstorm of Autobot fire. “Blast! Those Autobots must have been sent out to find me!” he muttered to himself, “But no matter! Their comrades will find them…in pieces!”
The Decepticon quickly turned around and flung himself before the Autobots, his own weapons ablaze. The three split up, avoiding Scourge’s potent blasts. “Has Scourge gone mad?” Broadside exclaimed.
“No, but he’s always had a lose circuit board in his head!” Springer replied, zeroing in on Scourge. As he boldly moved in, a bolt hit Springer hard, exploding his right vent.
“Springer!” Silverbolt yelled, watching as the green helicopter plummeted to the Earth. Silverbolt dove downwards, attempting to catch the falling Autobot. Once alongside, he called out, “Springer! Transform and grab onto me!”
Springer grunted, his body shifting in slow motion. Just as Springer’s head and arms emerged, Silverbolt began to swing up. Springer caught Silverbolt’s tail, hanging on as the jet soared upwards at an eighty degree angle against the side of a sheer cliff. Then, just as his nose cleared the cliff, his engines banged hard against the rocks, causing one to burst into flames.
“Agh!” The Aerialbot flew in a wobbly manner, barely managing a controlled crash into the dry mesa. Silverbolt dug out a trench over sixty feet long, columns of dust still rising into the air as he and his passenger Springer got to their feet.
Grunting, Springer muttered with half a grin, “As they say, any landing you can walk away from is a good one. You alright Silverbolt?”
Silverbolt moaned, smoke still spewing from his backside. “I’m…online, but that crash blew out my starboard jets. No way I could fly straight until we get back to base; how about you Springer?”
Springer rubbed his right shoulder. Sparks sputtered out in a burst, causing Springer’s arm to momentarily spasm. “No flying for me either. Looks like we’ll need Broadside to do all the flying for us today. Slag Scourge for getting us into this mess.”
“Better radio Rodimus and tell him the bad news,” Silverbolt suggested.
Halfway across the continent Rodimus Prime and Blaster walked down one of the narrow and cramped halls within the Pentagon, the building clearly not designed for Cybertronian visitors. Ahead of them walked a lieutenant and his assistant, behind a full dozen soldiers carrying rocket launchers in their arms.
“No offense, Lieutenant Michaels,” Rodimus Prime politely said, “But this armed escort is a…bit much. We’re here to investigate, not to damage this complex.”
The Lieutenant Michaels replied in a staunch tone, “Be thankful the president himself approved of your visit here. But even with his approval, neither I nor my superiors are happy with your presence here.”
“Hey,” Blaster spoke up in defense, “We had nothing to do with the Decepticons raiding this place! And Metroplex was under their control at the time! We’ve saved your burners more than enough times to….”
“What Blaster is trying to say here,” Rodimus Prime interrupted, “Is that we aren’t in the business of espionage and mindless destruction. Our presence on Earth is purely benevolent, which is more than I can say for our Decepticon counterparts.”
As Michaels opened a sliding door to the left, he bluntly stated, “Still the appearance of a two hundred foot robot tearing into Washington doesn’t inspire confidence. Now, before I let either of you go any further….”
The lieutenant turned about and squarely looked upon the Autobots. “What exactly are you…investigating?”
Rodimus replied simply, “I believe our friend, Rewind, can explain it better than myself or Blaster. Blaster, if you may.”
Blaster clicked one of the buttons built into his waist. His chest opened, a gray-colored cassette popping out and transforming into a human-sized Autobot. The guards jumped, aiming their weapons at both the Autobots and the smaller transformer. The lieutenant raised up his arm to steady them, the soldiers settling. He then turned to Rewind for an explanation.
“My apologies,” Rewind said, not intentionally startling them, “Now, we Autobots believe when Scourge attacked the Pentagon with the assistance of Scourge and the Decepticon giants, they stole something from your computer records. We understand for security reasons this facility is classified, but we deem it necessary to examine the mainframes damaged…in case your own investigations overlooked something.”
The lieutenant frowned, his unhappy face look less enthusiastic. “Believe me, we were very thorough. Nothing was found stolen or altered for that matter.”
“Please sir,” Rewind pleaded, “This is of vital importance, both to us and your people.”
Michaels was silent for a moment, then stood aside. “Very well,” he finally decided, “Behind this door are the computers that were broken into. I’ll let you examine them but by you personally…not that your larger friends could fit into the door anyway.”
As Rodimus Prime and Blaster stood uneasily with the armed escort, Lieutenant Michaels oversaw Rewind’s examination of the mainframes. “This will only take a moment,” he informed the watchful human. Rewind’s fingertips transformed into tiny electro-probes, wires extending out from several of them. He inserted them into the mainframe through several outlets and plugs.
Rewind sifted through the data with ease. “Intriguing,” he said aloud, “You are most correct, none of the information is missing or shows signs of memory gaps.”
“Like I said,” the lieutenant stood by, “Nothing.”
“Perhaps…but if my sensors are correct, which they are,” Rewind further said, sensing something about the mainframes, “There is a residual bit of Decepticon aura about these circuits. Give me one more minute to double-scan….”
“I’m not loaning out any more time,” the lieutenant raised his voice, “Now unplug yourself and leave!”
Rewind hesitated a moment longer, then, with an animated expression on his face plate, readily detached himself. “Yes, yes! As I thought…and feared,” he said.
Ten minutes later Rodimus Prime kneeled in a large, circular room with not only the lieutenant but also several generals in front of a series of screens. On them ran lines and lines of binary and cryptic codes, a myriad of lines that would seem like gibberish to the unaided eye.
“So,” the head general said, “The Decepticons managed to copy and decipher the codes to our most dangerous arsenal.”
“It appears so,” Rodimus said frankly, “Rewind’s analysis is consistent with your early investigation, but only his sensors were able to recognize a Decepticon trace algorithm. If those codes were as you said they….”
“Damn it man,” the general swore, “Your enemies have just gained access to the United States nuclear arsenal! The only other person with that kind of power is the president himself! Do have any idea of the ramifications of this discovery?”
“More than you realize, general,” Rodimus Prime said, “But you’re mistaken on one minor detail.”
“And what would that be?” Lieutenant Michaels asked.
“It’s not the Decepticons…it’s just one Decepticon, Scourge.” Rodimus Prime said.
The general shook his head. “All it takes is one to start Armageddon.”
Scourge continued to make his way away from the Badlands, fearing another encounter with the Autobots. He was still in one piece, but his armor bore enough scars from Broadside to trouble a whole team of maintenance bots. Somehow he managed to continue on, flying just below the radar zone to avoid trouble.
“I must act before the Autobots can find me again,” he muttered, “There must be a post or base around here where I can hide out and implement my….aha!”
Directly below Scourge spotted a radar station marked with military vehicles and personnel. Noting the extensive network of antennas, satellite dishes, and power stations, the Decepticon deduced it had some tactical importance and, more importantly, some use to him!
Down below, officers on duty suddenly found the very ground around them erupting into explosions. Cars, trucks, vans all were destroyed as this large silver and blue craft swept over them in wide circles. Those few caught unharmed quickly took up arms, raising up pistols and machine guns in defense.
A trail of bullets grazed Scourge’s arm as he transformed, leaving a row of miniscule holes but otherwise unharming the Decepticon. From a side compartment, Scourge pulled out a spherical grenade. Taking it in hand, Scourge said, “Let’s see how well they react to a muon blast!”
Scourge hurled the sphere straight at the base. “Duck!” a few men yelled, diving under cover. Upon hitting the ground, Scourge’s weapon became an expanding sphere of white light. For several fleeting minutes, it enveloped the whole base, passing through everything, affecting even those guards and soldiers who had taken cover. When the sphere of radiation faded, they were all out cold; not dead, but rendered unconscious most certainly.
The Decepticon stood on the base with hands on his hips and a proud smirk on his face. “Just as hoped,” he said, “Now to work.” Without further hesitation Scourge marched for one of the larger buildings. With his hands he tore down one wall, granting him access.
“At last,” Scourge declared, “A means to eradicate the Autobots!” Walking inside, he spied a row of consoles; most with radar and weather-monitoring equipment, but one, Scourge saw, had an interface. Kneeling before it, Scourge opened his chest, linking numerous wires from it to the console.
“And now, the final key to unlocking the humans’ arsenal.” His eyes faded from red to black, and then binary codes began to scroll down. The console Scourge linked himself to came alive, its lights at first green but then acquiring an evil shade of violet. One by one, the surrounding consoles came alive, glowing with the same eerie light until the inside of the entire base pulsed with Scourge’s energy.
Miles away, an underground bunker rested, its occupants unaware of activities elsewhere. Two men sat beside a large black monitor with literally hundreds of buttons in front of them, but for the moment they were resting, one reading through the newspaper comics.
Smirking as he read the Get Fuzzy strip, the man chuckled, “That Bucky….”
A wailing klaxon snapped the two out of their peace. “The hell?” one said, checking the stats on the equipment. They began to freak out – the machines were operating autonomously! Systems that had never been brought online switched on despite the safeties and precautions.
Elsewhere, a large missile, lying dormant for so long, started to hum with activity. Pumps fed fuel into the booster as the circular cover concealing the silo began to open. The twin rocket engines began to fire up, until, at last, the missile’s bearings broke loose and the once hidden weapon left its hiding.
At that same moment Rodimus Prime was stepping out of the Pentagon with Blaster and Rewind in tow. Lieutenant Michaels seemed all too eager to rid himself of his guests.
“This is an all too important matter to keep to yourselves!” Rodimus continued to say, “If Scourge has access to your weapons we ought to help, authorization or no authorization!”
“Relax, it’s all under control,” the lieutenant began to say when his cell phone rang. He clicked it open, answering, “Yes.” As the Autobots watched, his face turned white, then bright red. “What? What do you mean it happened by itself? Where’s it headed? Damn!”
“Lieutenant?” Rodimus Prime asked.
The lieutenant uttered some words beyond Autobot translation circuitry. Finally, when he could speak, he said, “It’s happened. Missile launch from North Dakota; already over Iowa on its way to Chicago!”
Rodimus Prime immediately turned to Blaster. “Blaster! Issue a priority prime alert! I want every Autobot with flight capability airborne in three cycles! Call for Sky Lynx and Cosmos to shoot down that missile!”
“On it Rodimus!” Blaster complied. Rewind leapt back into Blaster’s chest, transforming into a cassette while Blaster transformed into a red and yellow boom box. An antenna stretched from Blaster’s side, already sending out Rodimus Prime’s message.
In seconds, every radio receiver, human or Autobot, heard the following message. “Attention all Autobots! Attention all Autobots! Reports coming in from Blaster! Nuclear missile en route to Chicago. Every Autobot with a jet or wings strapped to ‘em needed to get skyward! Priority prime to all Autobots!”
At the threshold of Earth’s atmosphere, the missile arced over the American continent, its deadly atomic cargo residing at its tip. It skimmed above the clouds, passing by a hovering green, bell-like satellite.
The satellite whirled about, twin sets of exhausts emerging and firing up. In the sunlight, an Autobot symbol flashed with a crimson shimmer. “Cosmos zeroing in on missile!” the Autobot yelled, pursuing the human-made arms. Cosmos flew within striking distance of the projectile, his sensors locked on. He transformed, free-falling towards it. He aimed his arms at it, and then fired a laser pulse.
The missile was stuck dead center, its fuel tanks erupting in a fiery blaze. He watched for a moment, satisfied with his shot, but then looked on forlorn. “Oh no!” he said fearfully. He hit the missile, but the warhead remained, now tumbling out of control toward Midwest America.
Suddenly a pair of white jaws snatched the falling warhead in their grasp, swooshing by Cosmos in a blur.
“Sky Lynx!” Cosmos cheered, watching the familiar shape swoop by him.
Spitting out the missile head and arcing away, Sky Lynx called out, “Alright Cosmos, shoot it down quick before it can threaten anyone!”
Not hesitating, Cosmos again aimed his blasters and fired. The nuclear warhead exploded, a ball of white-hot plasma blasting out in a huge shockwave. The two Autobots were tossed about in its wake, but recovered quickly. Had they been a few clicks closer, the blast would have taken them as well.
The pair flew Earthwards, knowing their services would be needed all too soon.
“Why would anyone build a device so powerful and destructive?” Cosmos asked Sky Lynx.
“Human nature,” Sky Lynx replied, “is a strange thing. Come on, let’s get back to Rodimus Prime!”
On the ground, Springer received an incoming report from Rodimus courtesy of Blaster. “Right, we saw the missile fire just a few clicks north of our position! And you’re sure that trace was correct? Alright, we’re on it. Let’s hope those humans find some way to counter this!”
As Springer clicked off his comlink, Silverbolt asked, “What news from Prime?”
“Nothing good,” Springer said, “But they traced Scourge’s code to within three clicks of us! He must have commandeered a communications center or something to launch that missile.”
Broadside, standing over both Springer and Silverbolt, humbly asked, “What should we do next?”
Springer replied, “You get airborne Broadside, no doubt you’ll be needed in case Scourge gets missile-crazy! Silver and I may be Earth-bound, but we’re not down just yet.”
Broadside transformed and took to the sky in his large aircraft form. Springer changed into his other alternate form, becoming an all-terrain vehicle. Silverbolt jumped on top, Springer ridding off at full speed over rocky hills.
“I-I-I’m n-not u-u-used to r-r-r-riding l-like t-this!” Silverbolt managed to say, Springer jolting around beneath him like a vibrating bed with a few missing springs.
“Hang on, we’re almost there!” Springer told Silverbolt, his suspension rocking hard. As he cleared the next ridge, the outline of a military installation appeared. As they moved closer, they could just make out what appeared to be a hole in the side of one building.
“Looks like Decepticon handiwork with a capital D Springer.” Silverbolt said.
“More like S for Scourge,” Springer commented, “Let’s roll out!”
As Springer drove over dunes and rock piles, Broadside flew over the site, the noise of his engines booming loudly in the sky. Inside the base, Scourge paused, his audio receptors overhearing the noise. His optics turned red once more, the Decepticon glancing outside to see Broadside coming in fast.
“So the Autobots plan an aerial assault, eh? Let’s see if they can handle…this!”
Across cables and radio Scourge’s impulses were set out. Other, even larger, missile complexes received the commands, more weapons of mass destruction readied. Like fireworks they were set off, first one then two and four, all in a myriad of directions.
“Broadside!” a transmission contacted the flier, “More missiles have been launched just west of you! You’re the only one in striking range!”
The large Autobot tried to reply “But I’ve just spotted Scourge’s position at coordinates one two….”
“Leave him to Springer and Silverbolt,” Rodimus said, “We need you stat!”
Caught between two conflicting choices, Broadside turned away from the base, now set to stop more instruments of doom as were numerous other Autobots. Springer continued on, stopping at the base gates.
As Springer transformed Silverbolt watched as Broadside flew out of sight. “So much for any aerial support,” he said.
“Well with or without it, we’re taking on Scourge here and now,” Springer told him.
Moments later, Scourge stood, still plugged into the base’s systems, as both Springer and Silverbolt charged right in, both their weapons trained on him. “Ah, welcome Autobots! You’re just in time….”
“In time for you to surrender yourself,” Silverbolt said with blaster in hand.
Scourge was overconfident. “Heh,” he chuckled, “Either of you make so much as a false move…a twitch of your trigger fingers…and I’ll arrange for the flesh creatures’ entire array of weapons to launch and trigger a nuclear winter on this planet!”
No deterred, Springer countered, “We’ll shoot both you and them down before any harm can be done!”
Scourge laughed. “Ha! Even all the Autobots combined can’t shoot down a few thousand missiles! Oh…and considering how not even half of you are able to fly, that should be even more of a challenge. Now…back away or else kiss humanity good bye!”
Silverbolt and Springer glanced at one another, not expecting to face this situation. As Scourge watched, both started to step back, lowering their guns. A smile began to form on the Decepticon’s smug mug, but a voice from behind him yelled, “Springer, Silverbolt, disregard that order!”
The opposite wall burst apart, Rodimus Prime himself charging in. His brakes screeched as he turned to the side. Blaster, Rewind, Eject, and Steeljaw all appeared, standing beside the Autobot commander as he transformed. “It’s over Scourge, your little game ends now.”
“You just cost the lives of six billion humans Autobots!” Scourge yelled. He downloaded the commands once more into the computers. Scourge smiled evilly for a long minute…until he realized something. Looking at the console, he realized it was blank. He mentally signaled the console again, and then again, but nothing!
“We disconnected you from the rest of the grid,” Rewind said, pulling out his weapon.
“Yeah, power grid that is!” Blaster added, “Which means your fancy codes are useless!”
Scourge ripped the wires from his chest, his fists twitching in rage. “Fools!” Scourge yelled, blasters already beginning to fire, “I just need a new interface! So long!” He jumped up and transformed, thrusters blasting him straight through the ceiling.
As the others fired into the new hole in the roof, Silverbolt muttered, “Slag! He gave us the slip again!”
Rewind, still firing vainly at Scourge, said to his fellow Autobots, “Maybe, but where could he be headed? Surely he knows the humans are altering their missiles’ command codes as we speak!”
Rodimus Prime gauged Scourge’s speed and direction, then thought a moment. “Blaster, give me a reading on Scourge and any remaining airborne missiles.”
Blaster opened his chest, glancing down at the built-in panel. “Headed west at mach twelve. It looks like he’s on an intercept course for the very missiles he launched four minutes ago!”
“Exactly,” Rodimus Prime firmly stated, “Scourge can’t control any more missiles, but those he still can…if he can catch them before Broadside and the others shoot them down.”
“I still don’t get it,” Springer said, “Aside from taking down a city, what could be done with a single missile?”
Rodimus said one word. “M.A.D.”
“M.A.D.?” Silverbolt repeated.
“Mutually Assured Destruction,” Springer stated, “An old term the humans used in the Cold War…and one that applies today frighteningly enough.”
“Scourge could direct that missile to the faction called ‘Russia’ and trigger a series of launches from them!” Rewind explained, “It will escalate until…”
“Until nothing remains,” Rodimus summed it up, “Silverbolt, you’re the fastest Autobot we have after Sky Lynx. When Scourge turns that missile around to head east, we need you to intercept him!”
“One problem Prime,” Silverbolt spoke up.
“Yeah,” Springer said, “Me and Silverbolt’s engines were hit hard. Neither of us can fly today!”
“Wait a nano!” Rewind quickly jumped up, standing on a rubble pile between Silverbolt and Springer. Glancing over the two Autobots, Rewind said to Springer, “Give your left exhaust unit to Silverbolt. That should allow him to reengage his engines at full capacity again…at least as a temporary measure!”
“Sounds good enough,” Silverbolt agreed. Springer reached to his left shoulder and gently removed part of his intake. With Rewind’s help he attached it to Silverbolt’s cracked engine on his right wing. Aside from a bit of miscoloring, the components matched up perfectly. With a kick of his heals, Silverbolt transformed. Now a Concorde, Silverbolt tried out the makeshift engine…and it worked!
Broadside was joined by Sky Lynx and the Aerialbots over southern Montana, desperately firing on a group of missiles in a game of cat and mouse. Of the seven initially launched, only three remained with enough combined power to obliterate the state of Maine.
Airraid launched an interceptor missile, flying straight to the larger nuke. In a blast, both missiles disappeared. “One down, two to go!” Airraid yelled to his comrades.
Another missile exploded. Sky Lynx yelled back, “Make that one to go!”
“Indeed!” an unwelcome voice yelled. Without warning a flare came out of nowhere, a burst of light going up before all the flying Autobots, blinding them for an instant.
Scourge flew alongside the missile, attaching to it and using the rockets of his vehicle mode steered it around. The missile’s course now took it east, its engines powering up with Scourge ridding alongside. Long before the fliers’ sensors restored themselves, the missile was out of sight.
The air buckled at Scourge’s sides, the missile already arcing up towards the stratosphere. As the missile soared above the Atlantic Ocean, Scourge disengaged and transformed, the jet stream catching his wings like great sails, suspending him in place as he watched the missile continue on contrails of flame.
“Finally! An end to the planet Earth and the Autobots! Not only Galvatron, but all Decepticons will have to acknowledge me for this triumph!” Scourge proclaimed.
A flash of silver arose from the clouds. Scourge’s mouth was agape. A silver Concorde flew straight up, blindsiding the missile with its wing, sending it careening downwards. The jet then looped about in mid-air, its engines screeching as it plowed right into Scourge.
“No chance this time Scourge!” Silverbolt yelled.
“YOU!” Scourge roared, “YOU’VE RUINED EVERYTHING!” He tried to pull out his blaster, but Silverbolt banked to the side, Scourge losing his grip and his weapon. “Bah! You won’t ruin my plans that easily!” He pushed off, swooping underneath the long jet, aiming himself for the missile.
Silverbolt pulled up, transforming against a deep background of pure blue. In robot mode he held up his arms and dove like a comic book superhero. With only his wings to guide him, Silverbolt followed after both Scourge and the falling missile.
Scourge’s claw-like fingertips reached the missile, digging into its plating. Groaning, Scourge fired up the thrusters on his back, trying to pull the missile back. “Get…back up there you explosive, oversized firecracker!” he cursed the missile. The missile slowly pulled up, Scourge barely able to hang on at its supersonic speed.
The Decepticon sighed exhaustively. The missile now streaked over the North African coastline, easily within fifteen minutes of Moscow at the missile’s speed. “Finally, back on course!”
Suddenly a pair of bulky arms nabbed Scourge by the waist, right between his wings. “Guess again, Decepticon!” Silverbolt shouted. The Autobot tugged and pulled with all his strength, trying to get Scourge to release the flying weapon. Scourge however, resisted.
His wings repeatedly smacked Silverbolt in the face, forcing the Autobot down as he lost his grip. With a surprised yell, Silverbolt was now left hanging onto Scourge’s left ankle. The Decepticon glanced down, narrowing his eyes.
He arched his right leg back. Without a thought, Scourge swiftly kicked him in the face, Silverbolt grunting in pain. “Get,” Scourge said, kicking again, “off…” Another blow struck Silverbolt in the face. “My…” Scourge’s foot slammed hard. “FOOT!”
With a final kick, Silverbolt was flung away, Scourge rocketing away. As the Decepticon began to laugh, Silverbolt reached back and pulled out his blaster. “Let’s see how far you get on half of a missile, Scourge,” he muttered, ready to pull the trigger.
An energy blast struck the missile in its midsection, slicing into its fuel and oxygen tank. In the split second before ignition, Scourge said, “Oh no….”
The missile burst apart in flames. The rear half, and Scourge, were tossed skyward with the Decepticon yelling as his body was engulfed in burning rocket fuel. The warhead, meanwhile, plummeted down into a remote and barren section of the Sahara desert, casting a small shadow as it neared the ground.
Little over twelve miles away the Autobot watched as a burst of yellow light erupted. In the resulting shockwave, dunes were turned into clouds of sand in all directions as a great mushroom cloud sprouted all in the span of a few seconds.
Hours later, Silverbolt awoke, half buried in a dune with his fellow Aerialbots and a dozen other Autobots around him. “Ugh…one heck of a blast those things give off.” Silverbolt managed to say.
“Good job, considering all things,” Rodimus Prime said, standing over Silverbolt proudly, “No human or animal life harmed…although I fear the blame will be cast on us, again.”
Rising from the sand, Silverbolt moaned, “Great. Some heroic welcome we get.”
Slingshot smacked Silverbolt on the back with a smile on his face. “Hey! We did our job and saved…you know, the usual couple million lives and a planet. What more can we say?”
“I must say,” Airraid commented, “That was a great shot Silverbolt. Hit the missile dead on with a single shot.”
Silverbolt looked up at Airraid. “But…I didn’t fire the shot.”
The blast crater below the subsiding cloud of nuclear dusk still simmered with heat. Towards the edge, a great circle of pure glass had been forged, the intense heat of the fusion bomb melting the sand into waves of glass that were only beginning to solidify.
In one spot, a silver and blue hand stuck out, frozen in place. Deep within the glassy ridge, a bearded face seemed to stare out, its features blurred beyond recognition. As the mysterious entity lay frozen within, the knuckle of another metal hand tapped the glass, a metallic ring echoing from it.
“Scourge under glass,” Cyclonus said, “How delightful.”
“And an excellent way to imprison that traitor until I decide what to ultimately do with him,” said Galvatron. The two Decepticons stood on the ledge staring at the entombed Scourge, smiles on their faces. “After that demonstration with the missile, I will never doubt your marksmanship abilities ever, Cyclonus.”
Cyclonus smiled, but then, as he casually looked about, his face froze. Jutting out an arm with a finger pointed, the Decepticon warrior said, “Mighty Galvatron, what is THAT?”
There, at the very center of the crater, amid a field of molten rock and glass, a shimmer of gold caught their eyes. Peaking out just slightly was the tip of a pyramid, coated in solid bronze and gold with the early afternoon sun catching its radiant sheen. On one side, a large ornate eye was engraved, gazing out.
In Autobot City, under the watchful eyes of several medic Autobots, RedStreak continued to lie like a dead mummy, waiting for the next life. As he had for months before, RedStreak laid there ever so still…until his eyes reopened.
The Autobot woke up with a look of pure dread and fear. “THE EYE OF RA!”
To Be Continued….