Twenty million years into a new golden age for the race of Transformers, an unlikely band of (mostly) heroes travel the unknown regions of space to retrieve powerful weapons and artifacts in the hope of defeating the Heralds of Unicron, before the villains can enact their diabolical scheme to drain the spark of Primus to attain godhood.
Currently, the relic hunters have regrouped on their ship, the CCS Excalibur, and are bound for the colony of Elementum as they recover from their defeat on the techno-organic Eden-world of Spirabilis, which has left one of their number critically injured and another… otherwise incapacitated at the moment.
The Key to Vector Sigma, the Triptych Mask and the Chimera Stone have been moved to the ship’s armory, to facilitate access to them. Beta Maxx was currently in the bar, drinking in solitude. Daybreak was on the bridge, along with Liege Maximo, and her sister Nightfall lounged in one of the common areas on deck one, where Salvage was also gazing out a window. Bootleg was in sickbay, making small repairs to himself, as he could often be found doing in his free time.
High above Cybertron, in what was once the sparkchamber of Unicron, Nemesis Prime holds the glowing yellow gem that is the Emberstone in the palm of his hand. Its’ glow washes over his black armor.
“How fitting,” he muses, “that this is to be the first of the Primes’ talismans to find its’ way into our possession.”
Nearby, Ramjet sighs and facepalms.
“Oh, hell,” he groans. “He’s going all megalomaniacal on us again.”
“After all,” Nemesis continues with a chuckle, “one of a god’s many duties is to sire life, yes?”
Ramjet looks into the camera.
“Y’see what I mean?” he asks the audience, flashing a wide grin.
“Find me a shell-maker,” commands the false Prime. “I have need of one’s talents.”