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Seeds Of The Future
By Talon
Footsteps echoing through dimly lit caverns and tunnels. The sounds of a mech running through the underdepths of Cybertron, desperately searching for a place to hide, a sanctuary.
Futile, of course. A3 knew that only too well. The Masters had singled him out--for whatever reason--and now there was no place for him to hide.
A howl echoed through the tunnels behind him.
Clawcat. It had to be a Clawcat and they only howled when they had scented their prey.
A3 shivered and tried to run faster. The howls came again--the Masters had taken harmless turbofoxes from the northern mountains and enhanced them. Their bio-genetic experiments had mutated once-harmless beasts into vicious killing machines. These ones were no doubt implanted with mind-control chips so that the Masters could guide their hunting...and cameras to record the chase and slaughter for broadcast to the cowed slaves of Cybertron. And their howls were designed to be particularly grating on the audio receptors.
A3 tripped and fell sprawling onto the muddy ground. At this depth, the caverns were rock, and moisture seeped through to drip onto the unwary traveler and puddle on the floor.
"Haste will not help save you," a calm voice informed him.
A3 looked up and froze.
The speaker was a tall mech, with a rounded face and his body was swathed in a metallic cloak. He was holding a staff carved with symbols unknown to A3.
A3 thought in distaste mingled with pity. "Run," he said, "before the Clawcats find us both."
"Clawcats eh? I do not fear humble beasts."
A3 shook his head. "These aren't humble beasts!" Another howl echoed...closer. Maybe only a few twists away. "We have to get out of here!" He thought that he could hear claws clinking against metal.
"You cannot outrun a fleet-footed Clawcat." The monk shook his head and leaned on his staff. "They are far faster than we."
"Then we're doomed!" A3 had regained his feet. "The Masters have sent these ones to slay me. And they will kill you just as easily!"
"No, they shall not. Have faith." The monk turned as the soft patter of claws against metal grew louder.
A Clawcat loomed into sight--sleek body covered with ratty cable-fur and inlaid crystalline components. Its eyes burned with red fire and its fang-filled jaws gaped open in a loud hiss. It gathered itself to leap.
The monk spun around and his foot kicked the Clawcat hard enough to send the creature flying into the wall with a loud crack.
"They hunt in packs,"A3 warned.
"So I had assumed." The monk calmly stared at a trio of approaching Clawcats. "I do not enjoy this slaughter of any living creature," he said in a sad tone, even as he assumed a combat-stance. "But I am releasing these poor beasts from the pain of their existence...a pain forced upon them by these so-called Masters."
Before A3's stunned gaze, the old monk executed a flurry of martial art moves which left the three Clawcats dead and the monk himself unscratched. "Who are you?"
"I am the Keeper." The monk turned his steely gaze onto the cowering slave. "I keep secrets and destinies."
"Are there more of you?" A3 had visions of a horde of warrior monks ascending to the surface to drive away the Slavelords.
"I am the first and the last of my kind." The Keeper held up his staff and the crystal atop it blazed brightly. "A3, behold your destiny!"
Just behind the Keeper, the tunnel split into dozens of openings. "Choose."
"Choose?"
"One of these tunnels leads to safety."
"And the others?"
"They lead to other things."
A3 eyed the various-sized openings. "I don't--"
"These are paths which lead to your destiny, A3." The Keeper gestured again. "In some of your destinies, you live." His voice hardened. "In others, you die."
A3 froze.
"I cannot make the choice for you. I cannot guide you beyond this point. I cannot make you go forward, or turn back to the surface."
"If I return to the surface, I'll be killed." He held up his scrawny arms. "I am a microchip programmer, not a warrior."
"You are what you were designed to be," the Keeper told him. "Choose!"
A3 turned around. "But--" his voice died away as he realized that the Keeper had vanished. "I don't know what to do!" he pleaded.
Only the echoes of his voice came to him.
A3 picked a tunnel--what did it matter which one?--and hurried into it.
The tunnel grew darker--the lichens which glowed and gave pale light to the other levels had faded away totally now and A3 was stumbling through near-complete darkness.
Maybe making a choice did matter, he thought. At least the other tunnel had light.
His next footstep did not land on rock. Instead, it kept dropping and A3, taken off-guard, fell forward with a scream. He fell into what must be a bottomless chasm....
With a start, A3 realized that he was both conscious and intact. "What happened?" he asked as he attempted to stand.
He was on a raised pathway, lined with pillars. Each of the pillars was topped by a crackling fire which gave flickering light to a vast chamber.
"Where am I?"
With a thunderous roar, the air in the centre of the chamber burst into flames.
Reflexively, A3 threw up his arm to shield his faceplates and optics from the sudden glare. The conflagration was surely hot enough to vaporize him in an instant, the thermal output surely great enough to register on the Masters' sensors on the surface.
The shimmering fireball shrank into a glowing sphere--a perfect ball of light.
It was a dazzling sight--ripples and colors shifting across its surface.
A3 felt himself drawn forward.
He reached out to touch it....
At last One has come.... The voice echoed through his mind, a multitude of voices overlapping in harmony. A child of destiny with the power to reformat this world and its civiliization.
"Who-what are you?"
I am the Beginning and I am the End.
"The what?"
You are currently interfacing with the Allspark...that which is everything and nothing. Fragments of the Allspark exist within all life...locked in an endless quest of life to rediscover what is unknown.
"You're some kind of computer?"
I am the Oracle.
"Can you drive away the Slavelords?" A3 asked, trying to make sense of what he was being told. "Can you tell me how to fight them?"
A single candle cannot drive away the night, but a single spark can ignite a conflagration.
"Please, help me! I don't understand you."
Understanding is not required at this juncture...you are the nexus. You are the source from which the light will come...or that the darkness will extinguish. Listen to your inner voices...only by calming the voices within can you unleash the warrior without.
A3 felt his mind expand as the Oracle entwined itself deeper into this thoughts. "I don't understand!" he protested.
You must transform your world...transform and transcend.
A3 stumbled aside...voices and images flashing through his thoughts.
Power to the Decepticons, forever
She's everything I've always wanted
Oh for booting up cold
Such heroic nonsense
I am transformed
Wreck and rule
Autobots, transform and roll out!
I would have waited an eternity for this
The Beast Wars are over...you lost
Let this mark the end of the Cybertronian Wars
"I don't understand the images that you have shown me," A3 protested. His realized that his voice was deeper now, more commanding. He looked at his arms in surprise--he had changed! His bodyshell was of a new design--larger and more powerfully-built than his previous form.
You have been reformatted to better fulfill your destiny. Transform and transcend...you are the nexus.
With that, the Oracle imploded and vanished throwing the cavern into darkness.
A3 felt his gaze lift towards the ceiling of the cavern. His destiny was not in this cavern...it waited for him elsewhere.
The surface was waiting.
A World TransFormed
A3 kneeled on the ground, staring at nothing. His optics were dark as he focussed his thoughts on calming his inner mind.
Transform and transcend, the Oracle had told him. What did it mean?
A dull thump broke his concentration.
Hunters? he wondered. He had been hiding in this desolate region of the Great Plains for weeks--months?--without knowing, or even caring, what the Slavelords were doing to the rest of Cybertron. Had they found him at last?
He crested a small ridge and stared down at he sight before him. A dozen Quintesson Shocktroopers were disembarking from a hoverpod with weapons ready.
Two mechs lay on the ground near a smoking crater.
A3's optics narrowed--the hoverpod had narrowly missed killing the two mechs...unless its crew had been attempting to knock the two unconscious.
"Salvo!" One of the mechs was conscious and now threw himself at the nearest Shocktrooper.
A tangler beam wrapped around his arms and legs and he fell to the ground.
"Traitorous scrap," the shrill voice of a Slavelord broke the stillness. The egg-shaped being hovered out of the pod, tentacles flailing. "Did you seriously think that mere slaves could escape us?" His faces rotated. "I applaud your eluding capture for this long...it bodes well for the future development of Military Hardware."
"You won't remain in power forever!" The other mech had awoken and was also trying to break free from tangler beams.
"You are a minor aberration...future generations of Military Hardware will be as loyal to the Technocracy as the past generations of Consumer Goods. Your dissection will reveal the malfunction which has lead to your disobedience and we will prevent its recurrence."
"Leave them alone!"
All optics turned to A3 as he approached. "You have inflicted enough suffering, Quintesson!"
"Terminate that slave." The Quintesson gestured.
"I said no more!"
The Shocktroopers raised their weapons and fired.
A3 threw his hand out in front of his chest as if to ward off the energy beams...and he felt their power strike him harmlessly and surge through his circuits. He pushed and the energy rebounded to shatter a Shocktrooper into scrap.
"Wow."
"You are not Military Hardware," the Quintesson protested, its piercing voice betraying its surprise. "And no slave has been designed with such a capability."
"I am full of surprises, since my reformatting by the Oracle!"
"Take it intact!" The Quintesson sounded excited. "That slave has interfaced with the Oracle itself! I must examine its datatracks!"
The Shocktroopers advanced.
A3 eyed them. "What's so special about the Oracle?"
"Fool!" The Quintesson was changing its hovering altitude randomly, unable to focus enough to steady itself. "You have interfaced with the most powerful supercomputer in the galaxy, if not the universe! The key to the Technocracy's complete success! The key to our domination of the galaxy!"
Tangler beams wrapped around A3's body, and he was unable to break them.
"I shall examine your cerebral cortex...your datatracks will prove most enlightening." The Quintesson chuckled. "I fear that the procedure will be exceedingly painful to you."
A3 struggled, but he was unable to escape.
Only by calming the voices within can you unleash the warrior without, the words of the Oracle echoed through his mind.
A3 felt his conscious mind shift...all concerns left him and he suddenly saw the answer. It was so easy!
Limbs contorted and folded. Body panels shifted and slid. Tangler beams were stretched beyond their limits and they snapped, fizzling away.
A3 was now a wheeled vehicle-he had transformed!
Revving his motor, he roared forward, towards the startled Shocktroopers.
All five of the Quintesson's faces stared as the now-transformed Cybertronian smashed bodily through the Shocktroopers, throwing parts and limbs in all directions. "This is impossible!" he shrieked.
A3 skidded to a halt next to the other two mechs and he transformed back to his robot-mode.
"How did you do that?" Salvo demanded.
"It is a learned gift," A3 told him as he calmly snapped the tangler beams which had immobilized the Military Hardware. "Something I picked up during my reformatting." He turned to free the other mech, while Salvo advanced on the Quintesson. "We all have that spark within us."
The Quintesson flailed his tentacles. "Do not dare to touch me!" he ordered. "I am your Master! I am your creator!"
"You are a mere alien," A3 told him. "Your kind came to our world and conquered us millennia ago. We are now taking back what is rightfully ours!"
"You are making a mistake!"
"No, your kind made the mistake." Salvo had powered up his arm-mounted weaponry and took aim. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn\rquote t slag you where you hover."
"Perhaps I was hasty in my earlier assessment," the Quintesson considered in an oily tone. "Together we could reshape Cybertron." His faces shifted. "With my backing, and your skills, we could overthrow the local Magistrate and take over for ourselves!"
"I have no interest in sharing power with you," Salvo told him. "Nor in letting you live any longer." He fired.
A3 stared at the smouldering corpse of the Slavelord. "What have you done?" he demanded.
"I have removed one of the Masters from power." Salvo powered down his weapons. "We were designed to be warriors...I am fulfilling my function."
"I am Astarquias. Salvo and I escaped from the Quintesson research station in Perhellia."
"I am A3, formerly a microchip programmer in Vos."
"And now you are more?"
"Apparently...." A3 frowned. "The Oracle is guiding me...it all seems so obvious now." His tone had turned matter-of-fact. "I see what it was telling me."
"What are you talking about?"
"I am the Nexus...and if you come with me, I will teach you to unlock your own transformational abilities." A3 held out his hand. "Interested?"
Salvo and Astarquias nodded. "We are."
* * *
"The patrol is pretty routine," Astarquias said softly. "They pass the village every three megacycles at the same time."
"A foolish tactical error," Salvo grunted. "Predictable."
"They are not expecting trouble."
"They are not true warriors." Salvo checked his weaponry. "Do you still mean to go through with this plan, A3?"
"Yes." A3 kept his voice calm, not betraying his nervousness at the impending violence. "We have no choice really, not if we want to free our world."
Salvo grunted again.
Astarquias gave A3 an encouraging smile. "We will succeed," he said.
A3 nodded. A single candle cannot drive away the night, but a single spark can ignite a conflagration, or so the Oracle had told him. "This is the first strike by our army!"
Salvo grunted loudly. "Some army." Less than a dozen mechs were gathered around them...and less than half of them were Military Hardware.
"We have the advantage," Astarquias reminded them. "We can transform."
"Move out." A3 sighed. "Take out the guards first...try to avoid firing on the transports."
* * *
"The mines, exactly where they were reported." Astarquias frowned as he activated a portable scanner. "Scores of Cybertronians slaving away to mine the quadrlithium, for the Masters' growing war machine."
"Quadrilithium?" A3 didn't bother to try and mask his ignorance.
"A type of crystal. When properly cut and faceted, it can amplify and enhance lightwaves usually by a factor of five...making it a useful component in the construction of laser weaponry." Salvo kept his voice low as he studied the camp's defences. "Looks like a standard energy fence with stun-cannons set up every twenty mechomers."
"How many guards?" A3 asked.
"I can see four overseers outside...no idea how many are actually inside the mines though. No idea how many slaves there either." He didn't like this idea. Too much about this area is unknown. We are going in blind!
"We'll have to hit them hard and hope for the best," A3 told his small band of freedom fighters. "We have no choice."
A single candle cannot drive away the night, but a single spark can ignite a conflagration. "Transform and attack!"
* * *
"We have been hitting the Quintessons for nearly half a solar cycle," A3 told the Council. "Ambushing slave convoys, raiding mining facilities and energy stations, etc. But we need support from the rest of Cybertron if we are going to successfully drive the Slavelords away." He refused to call them 'Masters'.
The Council looked at each other in silent communion. "Although we share your distaste with the occupation, A3, we cannot allow ourselves to become involved in this struggle. The city of Levitoria is a religious retreat, not a military base. The Quintessons ignore us and we ignore them."
"You hover here in your floating city and you refuse to get involved with the rest of the planet world! You are not grounded in reality!"
"Thank you for visiting us," the chief councilor said in a stern voice, "and we offer you and your band the hospitality of our city. As long as you forsake violence, you are welcome here."
"We shall be leaving you immediately," Salvo replied bitterly. "Lest our presence taint your vaunted neutrality." He turned and strode out of the council chamber.
"You must forgive the rest of the Council," a voice said. "I am Cadence." He offered his hand. "They have been here since the beginning."
"A long time ago...."
"Yes, A3. The first explorers found this city floating above the Chasm millennia ago...before the Slavelords descended upon us." Cadence led the small group of rebels into a refreshment facility. They took seats on a balcony which overlooked part of the city, and the chasm above which it eternally floated. "The city back then, of course, was merely a large chunk of rock and metal which somehow defies gravity." He shrugged. "We still have no idea what keeps his city floating."
A3 looked nervously as the chasm.
"We have faith that the city will float," Cadence continued. "We have faith in many things. The early explorers were very religious...they believe that we are close to the Creator in this place...hence the reason it floats."
"No doubt some form of advanced anti-gravity repulsor system," Salvo mused. "Similar to the ones the Quintessons use in their hoverpods."
Cadence shrugged. "I do not know, nor do I particularly care." He sipped from his energon. "This city has been ignored by the Quintessons since their invasion. From all that we have heard, they cannot locate this city on their scanners." Another sign that the Creator was sheltering them. "Over millennia, Levitoria has prospered and grown. Every generation adds to the splendour of the architecture, adds to the sum of our knowledge."
"And remains firmly entrenched in a policy of isolationism?"
"Yes, sadly." Cadence nodded. "The Council does not wish to become tainted by the mundanities of life...nor to be enslaved should the Quintessons locate us."
"So you will not assist us?"
"We are sworn to commit no act of violence...at any cost." Cadence shook his head. "Legend tells of a prophecy made by one of the first Councilors which said that the first act of violence done in this city will cause it to plunge into the Chasm."
"We should leave..." Salvo grunted that sourly. "Before my temper causes this city to plunge into the chasm."
"We will not fight," Cadence said, "but perhaps we can help your cause in some other fashion."
"You must do what you feel is best," A3 told him. "I cannot force you to help us free Cybertron. You must do what your spark tells you." He nodded his thanks for the energon. "Good-bye."
"Another victory."
"Yes, Salvo. I was impressed by the speed of our strike team. You are to be commended on your efficiency." The strike team had taken down the entire unit of Shocktroopers before they could slaughter the prisoners they were transporting. "How many did we rescue?"
"Fifty Cybertronians...half of them have joined us. The others fled hoping to find one of the free enclaves."
"Our resistence is growing," A3 said proudly. He looked around the camp-over three hundred Cybertronians were engaged in a variety of activities.
"It is indeed...but we have a considerable way to go before we can match the Quintessons openly." Salvo refused to become overconfident. "If we are not careful, they will wipe us out."
"That is why I am scattering units to other regions of Cybertron. The Resistance is going to survive." Surely the Oracle had the complete liberation of Cybertron in mind when it had reformatted him....
"A3! Salvo!" Astarquias waved wildly from the communications array. "Come quickly!"
"What is it?" Salvo demanded as he ran to the array. It had been stolen during a raid on a Quintesson base and allowed the resistance band to monitor Quintesson reports.
"I just picked this up." He adjusted the transmitter.
"...repeating his message. The Slavelords don't want you to hear about this, but their rule is not absolute! The Army of Liberation has already launched several raids against their holdings in the southern provinces."
"Army of Liberation?" A3 repeated.
"Looks like we have a new weapon," Astarquias said. "Propaganda in our favour."
"But who is transmitting it?"
"The Army of Liberation has liberated a dozen slave camps in the last solar cycle and raided numerous military outposts. The so-called Masters are covering it up, but my sources have seen evidence and talked with Resistance Leaders personally. This is the Voice of The Resistence...Freedom Reigns!"
"That sounded like Cadence," A3 told his two aides in a low tone. "But how?"
"He said that Levitoria would not help us militarily...maybe he is going to help us with this indirect help."
"It is a useful weapon," A3 agreed. "The rest of Cybertron needs to hear about our activities...they need to hear our voice." Freedom's voice.
Voice Of The Resistance
"The Army Of Liberation has struck at the fuel refinery near Vos and destroyed it...losses to the Quintessons were heavy and the few survivors fled rather than face capture."
"Another transmission?"
"Yes, A3. The Voice speaks nearly every megacycle."
"How much of what Cadence reports is truth and how much is rumour?" A3 wondered. Were there other resistance groups operating across Cybertron or was his the only one, and the rest of the pirate broadcasts merely the product of desperate fantasy?
"I hope he is taking precautions."
"Of course." Astarquias nodded. "I talked with him and taught him all I knew about Quintesson broadcast techniques. He is transmitting from a hidden bunker...microwave tightbeams to orbiting satellites for rebroadcast...he can't be traced."
"I hope not." A3 had no desire to lose Cadence to Quintesson justice. "Do you think that the situation is severe?"
"I think that our rebellion is spreading...we still have a considerable way to go before we can hope to overthrow the Quintessons, but we are steadily gaining strength." He paused. "Salvo is still absent."
"He is establishing a cell near Shargrand."
"I agree with the establishment of new cells. We can't risk the entire Army in one place...if the Quintessons found us...."
"The rebellion would be crushed in one stroke. The lucky ones would die in the attack...the unlucky survivors would probably be taken to Hive City for torture and execution." And who knew what foul tortures and experiments the Quintessons would perform on their victims. No one leaves Hive City alive....
"A unit of Military Hardware refused to obey the orders of the Slavelords while awaiting transport off-world. The unit attempted to seize control over the Polyhex spaceport, but were overwhelmed by Quintesson Shocktroopers. The unit inflicted heavy casualties on the Shocktroopers--tentative reports range from five to ten times the unit's own losses--and also disrupted spaceport operations for nearly a megacycle."
"Fresh reports are coming in about Quintesson reprisals. Three villages in Shargrand were wiped out by orbital bombardment following an attack against the Shargrand Main Garrison. Casualty figures are not yet known, but assumed to be heavy."
A3 winced at the report. The Quintessons were acting with greater cruelty towards their slaves as the rebellion--his rebellion--grew in strength.
* * *
"We need to make a move."
"What kind of move?"
"A difficult one." A3 sighed. "The Quintessons are hunting us all...they are growing desperate and that has become an advantage of ours."
"What do you suggest?"
"That it is time for the Rebellion to go underground."
The officers chuckled.
"We are underground...and have been for most of our career." Salvo gestured to the cavern within which the Rebellion was gathered.
"I mean more figuratively. The Quintessons are striking at innocents as they try to destroy us. I cannot allow innocent sparks to go offline because of our actions."
"What do you suggest?"
"I had considered attacking Hive City."
Loud gasps of disbelief greeted that pronouncement.
"A3, you cannot be serious!" Astarquias protested. "We cannot attack the Quintessons' capitol!"
Salvo nodded agreement. "Not at this point in time." They were not strong enough yet--either militarily or numerically--to risk attacking the capitol. "Even when we are ready to launch such an attack, we will suffer heavy casualties."
"I have other ideas in mind."
"I see."
"We are going to scatter."
"Even with the hunters?"
"The Quintessons will dog us until they see us dead!"
"That is exactly what they are going to see." A3 kept his composure as his aides shouted protest. "I have taken steps to allow for us to elude their termination units."
"Oh?"
"Salvo, you and certain other Military Hardware are being transferred into city garrisons across Cybertron. The rest of the group are going to be assigned to far flung outposts. I am overseeing the records personally." He had a knack for interfacing with Quintesson computers and manipulating their datatracks. "You will all have the proper identification and records to allow for your new lives." As would he. "I want you to bide your time. Obtain intelligence and sound out your fellows.
"We have been going about the Rebellion wrong." A3 sighed. "We need to start off small and this is my solution. Gather intelligence and technology. Eventually I will signal you and we will rise up...dozens of revolts all across Cybertron!"
"I do not agree with all aspects of this plan," Salvo grunted. "You are giving the Quintessons an apparent victory."
"I am taking care to not allow them a factual victory," A3 countered. "We have lost almost a dozen bands in the last lunar cycle. The Quintessons are figuring out how to track us and their convoys and bases are becoming too heavily armed for us to raid in our current fashion. No, this is our best hope for an eventually victory."
* * *
A3 stepped into the office and bowed his head. "Master?" he intoned in a humble voice.
"Speak!" commanded the imperious voice of Severe-el-Toru.
A3 approached the desk where his master laboured. "I have received an important report."
"Then do not waste my time." The Quintesson swivelled so that he could bring his glare against the hapless slave.
"I apologize, Master." The mech bowed again. "But I have been contacted by a member of the..." he allowed the pause to stretch. "The Army of Liberation."
"The Rebels!" Severe-el-Toru shrieked. He hovered from behind his desk. "Rebels came here?"
"No, Master." A3 kept his voice calm. "The rebel," he used his master's terminology, "wished to gain access to the city."
"No doubt to subvert others to their malfunctioning ways."
"No doubt. In any event, I broke the transmission with him...but not before tracing it. The rebel was located in the Manganese Mountains."
"You are certain of that location?" Severe-el-Toru demanded. "Positive?"
"Yes, Master. I have the precise location."
The Quintesson chuckled. "You have functioned adequately, A3." His faces were smiling. "I am pleased." He hovered towards the computer console. "I must attend to this matter at once."
Aboard the Subjugation, Severe-el-Toru smiled as he linked tentacles with Tyran-ol-Mordet. "The key to our victory over this insignificant rebellion is at hand."
"Indeed."
"Tactical display!" Tyran-ol-Mordet stared at the hologram. "Begin arming sequence." The bridge crew of his warcruiser obeyed. "Lock onto target." Icons dotted the main viewscreen. "Severe-el-Toru, you have served the Technocracy well."
"As have you, General." The scientist smiled at the warrior. "End this."
"Fire!" The general's eyes glinted as the first starbombs began to fall groundward.
Staring at the viewscreen, A3 watched expressionlessly as the starbombs fell onto the old rebel base. Things of beauty--glittering stars descending through the atmosphere, glowing like jewels--but in reality, containers of antimatter. Powerful explosions ripped through rock and dirt...secondary blasts tore deeper into the mountains, destroying all traces of the rebellion.
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