<Somewhere in Cybertropolis, Nighttime, as usual>

Silverbolt's optics focus on what appears to be some kind of large, feathered animal, circling nonchalantly above the cityscape.  His feathers ruffle instinctively at the sight of another bird, but Blackarachnia assumes that the shudder was directed at her.

Silverbolt: <eyes apparently glazed over> There it is again.

Blackarachnia: He doesn't look so tough.

Nightscream: Could it be another survivor?  Like me?

Rattrap: <cocking his gun> Eh, why don't you fly up there and find out?  I'll, uh, cover ya...

Nightscream: That sounds like a good-- <inspects markings on nearby wall> Noble!  Hey, you guys!  Noble's here!  We gawta look for him!

Blackarachnia: There's no time for that!  We're supposed to be checking out these sightings reported on the Vehicon communications frequency that Optimus hacked into using the Oracle!

<cut - Beneath the Oracle>

Primal: <on his back amidst wire and fiber optic cabling> Work, damn you!  I'm missing "Seven Days!"

</cut>

Silverbolt: <interrupting> We can handle this without Nightscream.  Let him go.

Rattrap: Eh, I think I'll stay behind with the kid.  Make sure he doesn't get into any trouble.

Silverbolt: Are you sure?

Rattrap: <reaches for his gun again> Positive...

Silverbolt: Fine, I'll go alone.

Blackarachnia: <smiling to herself> Yes... alone.

It takes a moment before Blackarachnia realizes what Silverbolt really means.  Shouting after him, she shoots her webbing at the face of a nearby building and pulls herself alongside him before he gains too much altitude and speed for her to keep up.  No one notices the newly-formed hole in the ground where they once stood.  The shooter curses to himself.

Blackarachnia: I think it would be better if we worked together, if you know what I mean.

Silverbolt: You can't fly, and it's moving too fast for me to carry you.  You should stay behind.

A grenade flies by beneath their field of vision and impacts on a nearby memorial for Skids, incinerating the statue on contact.

Blackarachnia: Don't you remember how it used to be when you were always following me around when I was trying to spy on you Maximals, or kill Optimus Prime, or something like that?

Silverbolt lets out an audible grunt.

Blackarachnia: I suppose you'd rather watch Pokémon.

Silverbolt: <almost forgetting to flap> Don't even joke about that!

Blackarachnia: Oh, come on, Rover.  I've got a Pikachu in my torso-plate...

Silverbolt furrows his brow, which is quite a feat for a bird, even a technorganic one.

Both remain silent until they reach the level roof of a nearby building.  The strange bird has already flown out of range.  Blackarachnia transforms while Silverbolt gazes at the horizon with a sour expression.

Blackarachnia: Look, I'm sorry, I--

Silverbolt: I'll never catch him now.

Blackarachnia: Let it go.  This is more important.

Silverbolt: More important than finding a potential ally to to help win back the sparks?

Blackarachnia: <angrily> How can you say that?  <pauses> And besides, you don't even know if he's a Maximal!

Silverbolt: We will not discuss this now.  Wait for my return.

Silverbolt preps for take-off and flies off the rooftop.

Blackarachnia: <calling after him> Silverbolt!

He doesn't respond.

Blackarachnia: <flustered> Asshole!

Silverbolt ignores her as he tries to lock on to his target, but even his superb vision cannot locate it accurately in the nighttime sky.

Silverbolt: This mist of despair that shrouds my soul shrouds my senses as well... <reminiscing> and yet it's good to be able to really fly through the air again, to feel the wind flow beneath my wings and tickle my feathers.  I'm... happy. 

Silverbolt does a few reaffirming spins in the air.

Silverbolt: I'm really good at this!

He suddenly gets a flash of Misty holding an orange.

Silverbolt: <despondent> ...but what does it matter?

He hears Blackarachnia call after him again, but this time there's something different in her voice.  He glances back.  What he sees is impossible.  Though masked by what appears to be bone, the face, and body, are immediately recognizable.

Silverbolt: Megatron?!

It's enough to get him to turn back.

<On the rooftop>

Silverbolt: Unhand my lady, foul infidel of the night!

Blackarachnia's head is stuck between the jaws of a blood-red Tyrannosaurus Rex, or an animal closely resembling one.  The head itself only serves as a hand for a very, VERY large robot...

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: I'll ask again: tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now?

Blackarachnia tells him why.  She tells him by kicking his ass.

Using her webbing, Blackarachnia successfully ties her assailant's legs together, and he lets out a gasp of surprise.  Then, kicking off his abdomen and using her head as a pivot, she flips her entire body over his head.  The attacker is so surprised by this that he loosens his grip enough to allow her to break free and land on his back.  After a quick zap from Blackarachnia's ghetto-booty, it's all over.

Silverbolt swoops down, staring at the felled robot.

Silverbolt: Woah...

Blackarchnia: <firing off a look that could melt lead> If you're done looking impressed, could you give me a hand?

Silverbolt: <wincing> Yes ma'am...

<Back on the lower walkway>

Nightscream: You let him get away!

Rattrap: I did not!

Nightscream: You shot him!

Rattrap: Well, what was I supposed to do?  He was coming right for us!

Nightscream: Do you shoot everything that moves?

Rattrap shoots Nightscream in the wing.

Rattrap: Did you say something?

Rattrap notices a shadow creeping over him. He instinctively looks up, just in time to scurry out of the way.

Rattrap: Hey webs, watch where you throw your trash!  You could hurt someone!

Nightscream: I see you gawt him.

The Maximals stare at the unconscious, crimson red robot wrapped up in Blackarachnia's webbing.  It gives no sign of life.

Silverbolt: We got *something,* alright...

<Back at the Maximals' Magical Land of Tree-Huggers>

Behind scores of vines, the prisoner paces back and forth, his metal toes making a *clank* *clank* *clank* sound as he walks.  He never takes his eyes of his jailer.  He stops, only for a moment, and smiles, his devilish grin barely perceptible beneath his helmet.  Cheetor swallows hard.

Cheetor: Ulp...

Optimus walks by in Beast Mode a moment later.

Primal: How's our guest, Cheetor?

Cheetor indicates the pacing robot.

Cheetor: <quickly gathering his cool, if you can call it that> He's been doing that ever since he came back online, Big Bot.

Primal: Interesting.

Optimus walks up in front of the cell and stands mere feet away from the vines.  The prisoner ceases to pace, and after a beat he also sidles up to the vines, staring Optimus in the face.  At precisely that moment, the prisoner's left hand swings around to take advantage of an opening in his prison's "bars."  The vines instinctively wrap around the delinquent weapon to prevent its emerging from the cell.  Optimus raises a monkey eyebrow.  The prisoner pulls back from the vines, giving a grunt that smacks more of dissatisfaction than outright anger, and continues pacing once more.

Primal: These vines are technorganic.  They have the ability to absorb and redirect energy, entangling anyone who tries to escape.  If you somehow mange to damage them, they can re-grow instantly.  Pretty good, eh?  Rattrap built it in case we managed to capture a Vehicon general, though we weren't expecting to find anyone like you.

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: Is this the Maximal way?  To cage your enemies like animals?

Primal: We ARE animals, or didn't you notice our swank new technorganic bodies?

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: <easing himself to the floor, grinning again> Hmph... complete with technorganic fleas.  I could fit you with a collar if you like.

Even sitting down, the massive robot is nearly as tall as the Maximal commander.  He stares at the vines as if he could burn them away with by the force of his will alone.

Primal: <annoyed> You threatened to kill a member of my team.  I believe the accommodations to be nothing more than precautious.  Or would you rather I used your weapon for a garden hoe?

The prisoner continues to stare at the vines as if Optimus hadn't said anything.

Primal: We would, of course, like to know how you've managed to stay operational all this time.  Are there others with you?  <pulling out a tin from behind his back> Would you like some pie?

Cheetor: Pie?  Oh boy!

The prisoner continues to do nothing.  Optimus is about to leave, when...

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: This... Rat Trap.  He is not safe.

Cheetor: Isn't he on patrol with Botanica?

Primal: Yes... Botanica... Buddha Buddha Buddha!  I mean, why--

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: ...none of them is safe.

Primal and Cheetor look inquisitively at the prisoner, as he grins for a third time, but less perceptibly so.

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: My troops will come for me...

Cheetor: Suddenly I feel very dirty.

<Somewhere near Megatron's Abandoned Warehouse for the Dead>

A shadow dims across Rattrap's field of vision.

Rattrap: <gesturing a paw towards a nearby building> Did you see that?

Botanica: It is hard to see anything in this light.  Doesn't the sun ever come out around here?  I can feel my leaves withering...

Rattrap: Whatever, I'm not taking any chances.  Rattrap: MAXIMIZE!

Rattrap twirls his gun around his finger a few times, but Botanica seems unimpressed.  Rattrap takes note of this and heads off to face the danger.

Rattrap: Stay behind me.  You never know when that Noble critter or Nightscream could show up.

Botanica: Please, that pea-shooter couldn't make a hole in Swiss cheese.

Rattrap: Wilting dame...

Botanica: Odious rodent...

Rattrap starts inching toward the shadow, weapon drawn.

Rattrap: Here, birdy birdy birdy.  Come out and play with Uncle Rattrap, heh heh heh...

Instead of discovering a winged creature, Rattrap encounters a familiar silhouette -- one that resembles the last being he would have expected to find.

Rattrap: D-Dinobot?

The figure hesitates for a moment before charging at Rattrap.  Rattrap tries to recover, but his weapon is knocked away.  Cursing himself for his momentary lapse, he looks up as a sword is brought near his unguarded neck.

Rattrap: Chopperface?

<Nearby>

Botanica is busy arranging her leaves when she hears...

Rattrap: <screaming> HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!

She immediatly transforms and tries to run towards her comrade, but is getting nowhere fast.  Botanica looks down at herself in an expression of abject horror.

Botanica: By Primus... I can't run.  My Robot Mode doesn't have any legs!

Rattrap runs past the distraught Botanica, transforming into Beast Mode with his TransMetal wheels spinning as soon as he hits the ground.  Botanica doesn't see anyone in pursuit until she looks up and spies a robot hovering over her like a helicopter...

Rattrap: Sprouts!  A little help here!

Botanica tries to take aim at the flying Transformer, but something catches the corner of her eye.

Botanica: Oh my, a wilting flower trying to survive in this harsh, artificial environment.  I must give it water!

Botanica slides over to a flower nearly as tall as herself, one that seems to be growing out of a very dead-looking stegosaurus.

Botanica: <touching the faded petals> From the tragedy of death will life grow anew.  There, my precious, take my energy and live.

On the word "live," the petals slam shut, and Botanica goes into stasis lock within moments.  Striker transforms and throws the unconscious Maximal over his shoulder.

Striker: Feh.  I can't believe that worked.  These Maximals sure are gullible.

Striker sees his comrade nearby, dragging the rat behind him by the tail.

Dinotron: Two down...

<Back at the prison cell at the Maximal greenery>

Primal: Your form, your design, that mask.  It's obvious what you are.

Cheetor: Zechs Marquise?

Primal: A Predacon!

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: You do me a disservice, Maximal.  I am more than mere Predacon.  I am a DINOBOT.

Primal: <sighing to himself> We don't have to do this!  We could be out there freeing the sparks right now instead of wasting of our time.  It's what the Oracle wants!  It's what Primus wants!

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: ...there are other survivors.

Primal: WHAT did you say?!

<Elsewhere in Cybertropolis>

Silverbolt: At last!  There's no escape for you this time, winged mongrel!

Silverbolt follows Airraptor through the twists and turns of the Cybertropolis cityscape, always one step behind.  Airraptor suddenly begins gaining altitude, and Silverbolt strains to follow.

Silverbolt: You won't get away from me again...

At the apex of his arc, Airraptor transforms into Robot Mode, swivels around in mid-air, and takes aim directly at Silverbolt.  Silverbolt veers off.  A mid-air collision with the falling robot could be just as disastrous as getting shot this high above the surface.  Of course, Silverbolt has no intention of being struck down so easily.  He is, however, tragically unaware that his opponent is an excellent marksman, and takes a few critical hits.  As his enemy passes on his way down, Silverbolt goes into a power dive, shrieking all the way.  At the last possible moment, he painfully transforms.

Silverbolt: Mighty Chicken Mode!

Silverbolt grabs on to his opponent's arms in midair.  Nothing is left to stop them from crashing through the roof of the approaching building...

<On the ground>

Nightscream is chasing who he believes to be Noble through the shadows, but notices too late one important difference.

Nightscream: ...one tail?

Triceradon quickly spins his gun around and shoots Nightscream in the wing.  Nightscream staggers, but doesn't go down like usual.

Nightscream: Wow!  I must have finally built up a resistance!  Rattrap won't ever--

Triceradon shoots him in the face.

Nightscream: GNYA!  My gnose!

Nightscream falls unconscious due to sheer despair.  Moments later a distinct crashing sound is heard from the inside a nearby building.  After a quick scuffle it stops.  Airraptor walks out with Silverbolt in tow.

<The Maximal Base Near the Oracle>

Optimus is visibly shaken by the revelation.

Primal: We didn't know!  How could we have known?  We've been spending so much time advancing the plot that we haven't been able to--

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: Your ignorance is no excuse.

Outside the doorway, Optimus and Cheetor hear a stifled cry..

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: They have come.

Blackarachnia flies in backwards through the door.  Cheetor transforms and runs out, but is also knocked back.  The four Dinobots pile their unconscious cargo on to the ground.  The crew gathers around the cage as Optimus attends to his fallen teammates.  Airraptor gets working on the controls to the cell and releases their incarcerated leader.

Triceradon: <dropping gun to floor> Did they hurt you, Big T?

Striker: <brandishing his own weapon> It's good to see you're alright, boss.

Dinotron: I wasn't worried...

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: You idiots!  There are EIGHT of them!

Dinobots: Eight?

The camera zooms in on the open doorway, and NickBee, in all his reformatted glory, steps out of the shadows, fire smoldering from his eyes.  As the battle music kicks into full tilt, he transforms into his beetle mode and starts flying around the chamber.  Triceradon scrambles for his gun, but Optimus grabs it before he even moves.

Primal: <taunting> Gotcher spark!  Buddha Buddha Buddha!

Triceradon: Hey!  Give me that!

Not a moment later, blue lines start dashing madly by behind NickBee, drowning out the background.  He transforms slowly, the camera catching him from every angle.  Finally, he stands upright as two powerful ebony mandibles extend from just above his wrists.  The blue background fades.

In less time than it takes to blink, Airraptor's gun flips around on its pivot, he aims, and fires.  NickBee sprawls backwards.  The fight music stops.

NickBee: What the hell just happened?  How can I fail now after so much attention was paid to me in REDEMPTION?

Primal: <aiming at the Dinobots> Post-introduction-episode Syndrome.  It'll wear off by the end of the season.

One by one, the downed Maximals return to consciousness.  Almost simultaneously, the Dinobots slump over.

Computer: Low energon reserves.  Stasis lock imminent.

Striker: Sorry, Big T, we used up the last of our energy fighting the Maximals.

The Dinobot leader lets out a low grumble that sounds more like an earthquake.

Cheetor: <eating pie> I bet you wish you had taken this pie, now!

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: It seems that you have us at a disadvantage, Optimus Primal.

Primal: <signaling Maximals to stand down> It certainly does, "Big T."

Guy Who Looks Like Megatron: Please, call me... T-Wrecks.

The camera looms in menacingly on his devilish grin.

Rattrap: I swear, if *one* more character introduces himself that way...

Nightscream: What kind of a name is "T-Wrecks?"  It sounds something you'd call a backhoe or a crane.

Rattrap shoots Nightscream in the wing.

T-Wrecks: We Dinobots are on the same side as you Maximals.  Our quarrel is not with you.  We only chose to show ourselves now because you interfered with our hunt for that beast-changer.  We have actually had our optics on you for some time now.

Primal: So it would seem.  You nearly took us all out without a fight.

NickBee: It wasn't my fault!  It was the Post-introduction-episode--

Cheetor: Hey, down boy.

NickBee: <extending a mandible over his clenched fist> Kiss it, Hot Rod.

Cheetor: I AM NOT HOT ROD! <runs>

T-Wrecks: I respect you, Optimus Primal.  I believe it to be in our best interest to call a truce and ally ourselves... for the time being.

Primal: Until we have liberated all the sparks from the villainous clutches of Megatron, and have restored Cybertron to its proper and fated technorganic state!

Triceradon: <scratching his head> Yeah, something like that...

T-Wrecks: We shall meet again, Maximals.  I must warn you, however, that if you get between us and Megatron again... heads will roll.

At that, the Dinobots leave.  Airraptor, following him, turns around briefly before falling behind his commander.

Rattrap: <to Optimus> Didn't that last guy look familiar to you?

Primal: I couldn't quite place him myself...

Blackarachnia: Do you suppose we should tell them that Megatron isn't Noble any more?

Nightscream: <looking around> ...hey, we've been gallivanting around in Robot Mode this entire episode.  Why didn't the Vehicons attack us?

<Inside Megatron's Cranium of Evil Pondering>

Megatron: So, Thrust, what do you think of my nefarious plan to replace Silverbolt with a giant chicken?

Thrust: I don't know, boss.  Shouldn't we be making more generals instead?  I get lonely sometimes.

Megatron: Silence, fool!  Just imagine the havoc we could wreak among the Maximals!

Thrust: Uh, I'll try...

<Thrust imagining it>

Inside the Citadel-like wedding chamber...

Megatron: <weeping uncontrollably> Oh, my, how my little Blackarachnia has grown...

Primal: Can we get on with the ceremony?

Nightscream: But she's getting married to a giant chicken!

Blackarachnia: It's not his fault that he's too depressed to speak!  Poor thing...

Silverbolt: BCAW!

Primal: Silverbolt has an excellent point.  Rattrap, if you please...

Rattrap: Don't need to tell me twice!

Rattrap shoots Nightscream in the wing.

Cheetor: This is my skeleton, Betty!

Nightscream: Put down my ancestor!

Betty: I AM NOT AN ANCESTOR! <Runs away>

</Thrust imagining it>

Thrust: I still don't get it.  What's the point of this plan?

Megatron: What is the point to ANY of my plans this season?

Thrust: Got me, boss.

Megatron: Hmm, I suppose you are right.  It would be best for us to sit out this episode and regroup.

Megatron pulls two disembodied sparks to his ghostly, Matrix-like visage.

Megatron: Yeeeeessssss...

Chicken Boo: BCAW!

"You wear a disguise
To look like Maximal guys
But you're not a Robot
You're a Chicken Boo."

>The End?

Next Time on the Lost Episodes: Benny goes berserk!

*    *    *

Tales of Cybertron, Part 1

<High in Orbit above Cybertron>

Bob Skir / Diagnostic Drone: Are you sure you know what you're doing?

Unicron: I have suffered this disgrace for too long.  I shall have Cybertron for my body.  These meddlesome children of Primus cannot destroy my destiny!

Galvatron: BWAAAAAAA!

Unicron: Oh, do be quiet.

Bob Skir / Diagnostic Drone: Disgrace... yes.  How exactly *did* you get like this again?

If Unicron had a neck, it would be bending his head in the sorrow of infinite memory.

Unicron: It was long ago... let me tell you...

<flashback>

Against the deep velvet of space, a single shining object moves against the stars.  As it draws nearer, its features can be discerned just barely in the galactic light.  It is a small, metal being, traveling on a surf board.

Silver Surfer: I must not let my master take another life in his quest to ease his insatiable hunger!  This is my last chance...

The Surfer travels on, a massive space ship trailing not too far behind.  He finally comes to rest on the gray, metallic surface of an apparently deserted world.

Silver Surfer: There is no one here to warn, my master.  As your benefactor, my continued presence here is superfluous.

Out of the space ship, Galactus regally sweeps himself down to the surface of the small planet.  The world-devourer gasps suddenly as something only he can sense creeps into his massive consciousness.

Galactus: Indeed, my herald, you have done well.  I know now why you chose this place.  Its energy is without end!  Perhaps my hunger can finally be sated.  Yet, it is as you said, this planet has none like yourself.  This is not the reason you have chosen it?

Silver Surfer: <with years of diligent practice> Of course not, my master.  My only will is to serve you.  However, master, I must say that--

Galactus: <rolls eyes> This sentimentality again?  You said this planet was barren?

Silver Surfer: Of course, my lord.

Galactus: Then what's to know, my friend?  <does victory dance> What's to know?

The Silver Surfer kneels down before Galactus, conceding the point to his master's infinite wisdom.  He takes the opportunity to speak to the ground.

Silver Surfer: I thank you.  The universe thanks you.

Unicron: Don't mention it.

Galactus: <suddenly standing still> Who said that?

</flashback>

BS/DD: I see, so this "Galactus" put you in your present condition.

Unicron falls silent by way of embarrassed confirmation.

Marty Isenberg / Diagnostic Drone Mark II: Sounds like a bunch of slag to me...

BS/DD: Shut up, Marty.

Unicron: Well, maybe it didn't happen *exactly* like that...

<Somewhere on the surface of Cybertron>

Geever: Hey!  Check it out!  Unicron's head is full tonight.

Crawley: Man, I wish I coulda met the guy who kicked his ass.

Geever whistles in agreement.

Geever: Judd Nelson, man.

Crawley: Yeah.  That dude's harsh.

The two lost humans continue to wander aimlessly, never once suspecting that they are being followed.

Benny: <from the shadows> must......>TWITCH< purge this planet......destroy the kiddies.....make them....>TWITTER<......apologize.....