Electrum Beast pondered the situation as he gazed into his Dairycon computer monitor. Campaign car had arrived, and already subverted his key agent, Uncle Whiskey Breath. Without the Blizzard shotgun at his disposal, Electrum Beast was not sure how to stop the evil black truck from hitting town to begin his campaign of destruction.|
"I wasn't expecting him this soon," thought Electrum Beast. "I don't have all the pieces in-place yet." Unbeknownst to the Decepticons, Electrum Beast had planted a story about Electrum being discovered in the wilds of Wisconsin. He let it be known that the humans were processing it in 'Grande' factories, turning it into easily-transportable lumps for the Autobots. Little did the Decepticons know that it was all a farce; the 'electrum' being nothing more than what the humans called 'cheese'. The plan was to have Uncle Whiskey Breath wait in a small town called Brownsville, and when the Decepticon ship arrived, freeze it solid with his Blizzard shotgun.
Unfortunately, things had not gone as planned. The Decepticon drop-ship had arrived too-soon; Uncle wasn't able to get into position in-time. He chose to meet the ship head-on instead, with disasterous results. Having scanned his mind, Campaign Car found out about the trap...and the location of this secret base. Even now, Campaign Car was headed towards Milwaukee, and Uncle Whiskey Breath...was nowhere to be found.
"I need a new plan," thought Electrum Beast. "I'm not strong enough to stop him on my own. He'll slaughter me, and without much effort at that. I'll need to call on Spot. He's the only one who can stop him at this point." Activating the communications console, Electrum Beast sent a coded Priority One alert to the one being who still stood in the way of Campaign Car: Spot.
Spot sat in the Germantown Fire station, pondering his existance. He'd been here for some time already, without incident. When the alarms rang out, Spot was on the scene, making sure that everyone stayed safe. Under Spot's watchful eye, no fireman lost his life. It was a small consolation, but one he took to heart nonetheless. The job was important, and the down-time peaceful. It gave him an opportunity to think; about the Great War, and the part he played in it. All the lives lost; lives that he had been unable to save. The accident at autobase; the discrace of falling out of the Autobot power structure; the eventual self-imposed exile to planet earth. It seemed he had spent most of his time protecting the humans anyways; it only made sense that he would continue to do so, albeit not in his role as a Transformer. He hadn't been bothered by any Cybertonians for some time. Or by anyone, really. So imagine his surprise when the Alert came thru on his internal commlink. He almost didn't recognise the beeping at first; when he did, it was with reluctance that he finally answered it.
Spot: "Spot here. This had better be good."
Electrum Beast: "Thank Primus I reached you. We have a situation. A Decepticon is heading in your direction...well, my direction, actually. You're the closest 'bot in the area. I need you to intercept him, and stop him, if possible."
Spot: "Not my problem."
Electrum Beast: "What?!"
Spot: "I have a good thing going here. The humans are my first priority now. Things are supposed to be peaceful between the factions anyways. I don't see why you would need my help. Call your own dog out to sic him."
Electrum Beast: "Listen, a plan has gone awry. He's already taken out Uncle Whiskey Breath. And I'm next."
Spot: "Maybe you should have thought of that before you cooked up whatever hairbrained scheme just backfired. I'm thru getting involved with you."
Electrum Beast: "I've told you a thousand times, I'm sorry! That accident wasn't my fault! All the levels looked fine on the monitor. How was I supposed to know..."
Spot: "Yea, how were you supposed to know. Maybe having your chassis clocked will learn you to be more careful in the future. Maybe you'll give up on all the secret agent crap, and learn a more honest way to achieve your goals. Doesn't the Pax Cybertonia mean anything to you?"
Electrum Beast: "I don't need a lecture from you. I know I screwed up. Again. And I'm not asking for myself; I'm asking for the humans that surround this base. You don't think that they'll be slaughtered by the thousands when Campaign Car arrives? You think he'll just leave it at a beating? He's here to *kill* me. And everyone here."
Spot: "They sent Campaign Car?"
Electrum Beast: "Yes."
Spot: "The agent who trained under you?"
Electrum Beast: "Originally, yes. Until he hooked up with that Decepticon, and was corrupted..."
Spot: "I've heard the story before. I was there."
Electrum Beast: "Then you understand why I felt it was my responsibility to get him back, to try to get him to change his ways. I thought that if he got wind of a new supply of Electrum..."
Spot: "...that he would come running, and fall into one of your freeze-traps. I get it. Did it occur to you that he would be aware of your usual bag of tricks? That he would anticipate this move, and take counter-measures?"
Electrum Beast: "no."
Spot: "Then the student has surpassed the teacher. And as a showing of loyalty to his new masters, he will sever his final link to the Cause...you."
Electrum Beast: "That's about the size of it. I really thought his thirst for power would override his instincts."
Spot: "And you were wrong. We were all wrong to trust you and your crazy inventions. The cloak of Cow. The Blizzard shotgun. The ablative armor....what were we thinking? None of them has ever worked properly, or helped us in the Agent business. We should have left the espionage to Bumblebee. All he needed to be successful was a good set of ears, instead of all this fancy techno-crap."
Electrum Beast: "He's closing in on your location. If you don't stop him, no one else will. If you let him pass by, then all the humans he kills will be on your head as well as mine. Can you really live with that?"
There was no answer from the other side. Only silence, followed by the click of an ended communication. Electrum Beast had tried his best; it was up to Spot now. Whether or not he decided to help, he couldn't say. He could only hope that he would; because if he didn't, then Milwaukee was doomed....
To be Continued.