"Could it be..."
Connecting the dots from the data in Blackout's mory, Skygnaw ford a hypothesis, only to shake his head a mont later.
"No. Too little information. It's a mystery for another cycle."
Right now, the priority was surviving the shifting political tides of Earth, not unearthing the ancient secrets of a dead Cybertron. While the Transforrs were an advanced spacefaring race, most of them—like Blackout—were little more than high-functioning war machines. Even a veteran who had lived for ten thousand years couldn't escape the cycle of endless combat. It was no wonder so many Decepticons were psychologically fractured; eons of slaughter would twist any spark.
Skygnaw stowed Blackout's mory crystal and pulled a small, bronze tallic shard from his chest compartnt. He held the AllSpark fragnt before his optics, engaging a deep-layer scan.
He had no idea how to utilize it yet. He had already tried inputting the evolution source codes he knew, but the fragnt remained inert. In the original tiline, a shard like this could resurrect gatron, but gatron was dead. Skygnaw was very much alive, and he wasn't keen on shoving raw, volatile cosmic energy into his chest without a "container" to stabilize it.
The movies showed the shard reacting to machinery...
Skygnaw moved toward a high-intensity energy collision chamber within his lab. He placed the fragnt inside and began a series of controlled tests. This was too important to delegate; he trusted no one with the "Source."
While Skygnaw was buried in his research, he was unaware that he—and the rest of his faction—were about to beco the most wanted fugitives on the planet.
The Pentagon. Secret Briefing Room.
The setting was familiar, but the atmosphere had changed. Secretary John Keller no longer sat at the head of the table. That seat was occupied by President Mitchell.
The President cleared his throat, glancing at Keller before addressing the room. "The resolution to form a joint task force has officially passed."
"Effective imdiately, the Departnt of Defense will oversee the creation of a rapid-response unit dedicated to joint operations with the Autobots."
The previous sessions had been a quagmire of debate. So officials feared the Autobots' true motives; others wanted to demand technology as "rent" for staying on Earth; a few even suggested letting the two alien factions wipe each other out so humanity could scavenge the remains.
Keller had eventually bypassed the bureaucrats by bringing in the President himself. To Mitchell, Optimus Pri's proposal was a political godsend. If he couldn't stop the aliens, he could at least brand the "good ones" as allies and use them to suppress the "bad ones." With an election year looming, he couldn't afford any more "gas main explosions" in major cities.
By the next day, the wheels of the military-industrial complex were turning with terrifying efficiency. When it ca to "alien threats," the usual red tape vanished.
Within seventy-two hours, the unit was fully staffed and branded. They were called NEST—Networked Elents: Supporters and Transforrs. Their mission: to flush out every Decepticon "nest" on Earth.
William Lennox, given his survival record and rapport with the Autobots, was appointed field commander. His rank was fast-tracked to Colonel, reporting directly to Secretary Keller.
"Captain... Colonel..."
Lennox stared at his reflection in the mirror, adjusting the silver eagles on his fresh dress blues. In a single week, he had achieved a promotion that usually took fifteen years. A Colonel under thirty? He was likely the only one in the history of the United States Army.
"Will, the big guy is here."
Robert Epps, now a Lieutenant Colonel and Lennox's second-in-command, knocked on the door.
"Right. Let's go." Lennox straightened his cap and stepped out. Power ca with a heavy price tag, and he could already feel the weight of it.
In a cavernous hangar, the human soldiers of NEST t their chanical counterparts for the first ti. As a rapid-response unit, NEST's numbers were lean, but their hardware was top-tier. They had a dedicated armored column, a specialized transport wing, and a direct line for "Hamrdown" air strikes that bypassed standard command chains.
Aside from the survivors of Rushville, the rest of the squad were elite picks from JSOC. Seeing Optimus Pri for the first ti, most of them stood with their mouths hanging open, their training montarily forgotten.
"Ahem." Lennox cleared his throat. "Listen up. I'm introducing our newest battle brothers. This is Optimus Pri."
The Autobot Leader inclined his head with regal solemnity.
"This is Ironhide, and that's Ratchet."
"You'll get to know them soon enough. They're the best friends we've got in this fight."
Bumblebee wasn't present; after the battle, he had requested to remain as Sam Witwicky's guardian. Optimus had granted it, unsure if the Decepticons would target the boy who had delivered the final blow to gatron.
Lennox opened the tactical briefing. "You all know why NEST exists. No training cycles. Just live-fire missions. And our targets aren't human."
Lennox swept his gaze across the n. He had seen too many good soldiers die in the sand. He needed these n hyper-focused if they were going to survive.
"Optimus," Lennox turned to the giant. "We need a definitive list. Who are we hunting?"
"Very well." Optimus projected a massive 3D hologram into the center of the hangar.
The images of jagged, predatory machines cycled through the air.
"Starscream: High Commander. Air specialist."
"Barricade: Scout and infiltrator."
"Brawl: Heavy assault. mber of the Combaticons."
"Frenzy: Infiltrator and master hacker."
The final image showed an eight-ter-tall machine with two distinct blades at its hips.
"Skygnaw: Starscream's lieutenant. Sparked on this planet."
"Wait, Optimus," Lennox interrupted. "What do you an 'sparked on this planet'?"
"Skygnaw was constructed by the Decepticon known as Scalpel using terrestrial materials," Optimus explained. "Sohow, he has already achieved the status of an Elite-Class Warrior."
"Whoa!" Epps let out a low whistle. "You're saying they can just grow these things in a lab? Is it that easy?"
"What did you say?" Ironhide rumbled, leaning down to stare Epps in the eye.
"Uh... I an... it's impressive! Creating life and all... very efficient!" Epps corrected himself quickly under the veteran's heavy gaze.
Lennox ignored the banter, his mind on the logistics. "So if we don't wipe these guys out soon, they could turn our own resources into a localized army?"
"Exactly," Optimus confird. "And while these manufactured units are often less complex than those born of the Well of All Sparks, they remain a grave threat to your species."
"And these 'Elite-Class' levels you ntioned?" Lennox asked.
"It is a combat rating," Optimus said, breaking down the hierarchy: Mid-Class, High-Class, and the powerful Elite-Class.
"And gatron?"
"He was a Leader-Class," Optimus said solemnly. "Like myself."
Lennox nodded, absorbing the data. On paper, they had the advantage, but he knew better than to underestimate a Decepticon cornered in a hole.
"Will, when do we get our first mission?" Epps asked.
"You know the drill, Robert," Lennox said, turning toward the comms tech. "We don't go looking for them. We wait for the signal."
NEST had the intelligence of the Pentagon and the sensors of the Autobots behind them. When a Decepticon poked its head out, they would be there to take it off.
"Understood," Optimus rumbled.
Back at the Decepticon base, Skygnaw continued his ticulous study of the AllSpark fragnt, unaware that his profile was currently being morized by every soldier in NEST.
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