The Quintesson Wars: the Iacon Blitz, Part II
Onyx Prime didn’t have a “bad” side. Anyone with the persistence enough to provoke the wrath of the Lord of Beasts (and lacking in an instinct for self-preservation) would be best served running the hell away, and could only consider themselves safe once they’d left for the next star system over.
A few quintesson soldiers were about to learn this the hard way, as Prima jumped down from one of the Decagon’s balconies and split one of the tentacled creatures in half with the Star Saber, the blade slicing through both metal and viscera with the ease of a knife through thin air. Onyx Prime soon followed, unfurling a pair of massive wings on his back which thrummed as anitgravity mechanisms beneath their blade-feathers activated to carry Onyx’s massive robot body. He swooped past Prima and landed atop another quintesson ahead of him, pinning it to the ground beneath his forelegs. The quintesson shrieked and lashed up at Onyx’s body with its tentacles, raking at his black-and-amber-hued armor, while two other invaders raised plasma cannons from their hunched backs and shot at his chest and torso. Onyx gritted his teeth as the magnetic fields around the plasma bolts broke against his armor, and the sizzling energized gas beneath them burnt his “skin”; he ignored the pain as he reached down for the quintesson beneath him and seized bunches of tentacles in his large, clawed hands. He ripped the limbs from their sockets with one pull, and as he punched the hoof of his right foreleg through the quintesson’s armor and into its chest cavity he threw his horned head back and let out a loud, throaty roar of fury that could be heard for miles around the great city of Iacon. The Triptych Mask on his face reshaped itself into a four-eyed, hawk-like visage with a crown of sharp horns reaching up from the top of his head: the face of Predator.
Micronus Prime was sure glad to count Onyx as his friend: among other benefits, he figured it made his life expectancy shoot up a few millennia. He watched as the centaur-like cybertronian pulled his hoof, now slick with a dark-brown mixture of blood and mech fluid, out of the quintesson he’d gored, threw the severed tentacles onto the ground, and then leaped for the other two who were still shooting at him. These quintessons shut off their cannons and each raised their tentacles and a set of four arms tipped with long, bladed talons, but these did not dissuade the Lord of Beasts. He galloped into the two quintessons and grabbed them by their tails, tucking his head down as a flurry of claws and blades lashed at his face and shoulders. With a mighty heave he lifted one quintesson off the road and tossed him over the side, where it fell several stories onto a boulevard below. He then thrust is now-free hand down the hood of the second quintesson still squirming in his grasp, grabbing hold of the screeching face within. The hood snapped shut over Onyx’s forearm, its teeth biting into the armor, but the Prime only looked into the terrified eyes of his prey to howl savagely as he pulled out its head. Veins and wires popped, and teeth scrapped down Onyx’s wrist as he ripped the head from its body, its five faces sagging as the life drained from each one’s eyes.
Another quintesson slithered up to sink its claws into Onyx’s side, but Micronus had his friend covered. From the balcony above, the minicon’s body surged with electricity as he allowed his volatile spark to flood the capacitors built into his form. He threw out his hands and loosed a blast of lightning on the quintesson, and it collapsed in a steaming, charred heap. Prima launched a wave of energy from the Star Saber’s blade that sliced through three more; of the fifteen invaders that had landed outside the Decagon to face the Primes, seven now remained. These survivors did not relent- they raised their plasma cannons and sent a torrent of crimson bolts at their foes. Micronus jumped behind a fallen support column, his body smaller and more fragile than those of his comrades, and Prima raised another barrier with the Skyboom Shield to protect them all.
Micronus saw the quintessons immediately stop firing, and their last few shots were absorbed harmlessly by the shimmering barrier between them and the Primes. Without a second’s pause, they split into two groups and started to slither around the barrier, their faces switching to a silver and green face inside their hoods.
So the creatures aren’t just brainless drones. Micronus was starting to miss the terrorcons already. But Alchemist Prime stopped these seven early in their maneuver: the portly robot raised his arms, and a rainbow of light filled the glyphs inscribed onto his massive gauntlets and wide palms. The quintessons suddenly convulsed, reeling backward as raspy howls of agony escaped their jaws. Their own armor buckled under some unseen force and twisted itself into sharp spikes that jabbed inward at their organs. Scowling, Alchemist clenched his fists, and the quintessons seized in unison before dropping dead onto the road.
With the threat passed, Prima dispelled the barrier and drew his left arm back to his side. He cast a wary glance at Alchemist, having not seen such a brutal display of his powers since the battle with the Heralds of Unicron forty-thousand years ago. He’d forgotten how easily the jovial bartender could turn the elements- even the very structure of his enemies’ bodies- into a weapon.
“That mean we’re even now?” the stout Prime asked. The evening sunlight streaming from behind the quintesson ship overhead glinted on the rims of the round spectacles over his six eyes. Prima smirked, and twirled the Star Saber in his right hand.
“The night is still young, my friend,” he replied. “Best not to call the score just yet.”
Micronus looked up from his cover and saw Onyx Prime turn to face him. His hands were clasped together as he drew in a deep breath. His shoulders relaxed, and the Triptych Mask shifted into the passive, hawk-like face of Farsight. He looked down at the quintesson Micronus had electrocuted for him, and then back to Micronus; an appreciative smile spread across his face.
Micronus gave Onyx a thumbs-up and a smile in return, and looked over his shoulder to see Quintus drifting between the bodies of the transformers killed in the decagon plaza. He examined the burnt armor sadly, and pulled a yellow gemstone from his chest. It hovered in the air between his fingers, and began to glow as the Prime of Life uttered a prayer:
“Primus, these souls have been taken from this world too soon, by the unjust hands of an invading enemy. Please, relinquish their sparks, allow me to mend their bodies and return them to us once more.”
Micronus never knew if appealing to the Creator was necessary to use the Emberstone, but Quintus always said a few words to the Bot Upstairs before doing so. It seemed to work: the gem’s glow spread in whispy tendrils to the fallen transformers around the plaza, lifting them off the ground as their damages were miraculously mended. Their sparks reignited within their chests, and they were alive once again. They looked to one another in shock, but Quintus was quick to catch their attention.
“It is not safe for you here,” he said to them. “Come, I will lead you to a shelter.”
Micronus hopped down to join the others as Quintus led the resurrected civilians into the Decagon. “Quintus has already started helping in the evacuations,” he reported. “Figure that’s priority one for the rest of us, too?”
Prima nodded. They’d led their people together, but with a battle upon them the Warrior of Light was taking charge once again.
“They’ve taken us by surprise,” he says. “The knights will raise Iacon’s defenses in the meantime; we see the civilians to safety before launching a counterattack.”
The other Primes nod in agreement, before splitting into pairs to head into the city. Micronus leaped onto Onyx’s back and the Lord of Beasts took flight, soaring off toward a residential district. Beneath them, Optimus Prime ran alone, toward the boulevard beneath the quintesson’s ship.
“Where do you think he’s going?” Micronus asked his friend.
“He has his duties,” Onyx replied calmly, “and we have ours. We must each concentrate on our own tasks.”
Micronus sighed and gripped a raised section of armor between Onyx’s shoulders, as the two Primes flew between the monolithic spires of Iacon. Their windows were shattered, and more quintesson soldiers crawled down their lengths, spat out from their oppressive mothership. The arrogant creatures had dared to strike at the heart of Cybertron, of the civilization Micronus and his fellow Primes had devoted themselves to build. For that, Micronus swore to make them pay.
Wouldn’t be a war story without some action, now would it? As always, comments and constructive criticism would be appreciated.