The Saga of SteelTread

Meniscus 4 was a cold world. SteelTread was forced to expend precious energy to keep his internal temperature up to standard operating specifications as he struggled to pay attention to the battle briefing. Predacon General ArcWave was speaking.

“We begin the attack at first light tomorrow,” he said, turning to the battle map projected on the side of the troop shuttle behind him. “This is our location. The Maximal colony is located here to the west, on the other side of this small range of hills. Strike Force One, the SteelDeath squad, will of course lead the attack.”

The five members of the SteelDeath squad remained as silent and unmoving as the rock formations around the encampment. They were accustomed to being first to fight. Leading the battle was not new to them, so there was no reason for celebration. It was a grim and deadly business, and now was the time to commit the battle plans to memory so there would be no chance of a mistake.

General ArcWave continued with the briefing. “Strike Force Two and Strike Force Three, your team members have already been assigned. After One has the enemy fully engaged, Two will attack from the north and Three from the south. When the Maximals commit some of their forces to defending the flanks, Strike Force One will continue into the main compound and deliver the death blow. Now here are satellite recon scans of the Maximal base.” The terrain map was replaced by a low-resolution scan, which showed some vaguely recognizable structures. "We had to use a low-power scan to avoid detection, so there isn’t much detail. We think this large building is the main compound, and the smaller surrounding buildings here and here contain auxiliary equipment, probably scientific experiments. Our second priority will be the autogun emplacements here, here, and here. Our third priority will be to destroy the Maximals down to the last Bot. But our first and most important priority is this structure.” He pointed to an octagonal building on the eastern edge of the base. “We don’t know what’s in there, but it appears to be heavily armored. DO NOT DESTROY THIS BUILDING! We want the contents intact. This will be the responsibility of Strike Force One.”

“This concludes the briefing,” said ArcWave. “Are there any questions?” When no one responded, ArcWave continued. “If not, then I’m “honored” to introduce our “esteemed” visitor from Cybertron, Lieutenant Tarantulas, who has some special information for you.” ArcWave’s sneering tone of voice and the way he looked the newcomer up and down with distaste made it perfectly clear that the visitor was not honored or esteemed in any way, at least in the view of the Predacon military.

Tarantulas stepped in front of ArcWave and waited for silence as the chuckles from the group died down. SteelTread disliked Tarantulas on sight, and disliked him even more when he started to speak.

“Predacons, are you happy under the Pax Cybertronia?” asked Tarantulas. “Are you content to sit on your skid plates and watch the world go by, while the Maximals rule you and prevent you from fighting the great battles you were designed to fight?” There was a grumble of agreement from the group.

The Pax Cybertronia had been signed 300 stellar cycles ago. The treaty had ended the Great War between the Autobots and Decepticons, Their descendants, the Maximals and the Predacons, lived under an uneasy truce. There were frequent skirmishes on outlying colonies and outposts. And back on Cybertron, the Predacons were held under strict Maximal control, forbidden from participating in even mock battles, to keep their military skills dormant. To the warlike Predacons, this was a death sentence.

“Fortunately, the Maximals do not control us all,” Tarantulas continued in his raspy, unpleasant voice. “Those of us who are outside their sphere of influence may do as we wish. And what we wish is to decimate the Maximals, colony by colony, outpost by outpost, all the way back to Cybertron itself. We will extinguish their sparks, steal their Energon, and take back our rightful places as masters of our own destiny. AND THEIRS!” The grumbles were louder this time.

After the group quieted down, Tarantulas continued. “And the battle tomorrow, my friends, may be the turning point in our struggle. When we capture the Maximal base, we will capture something so important, so vital to our very existence, that without it we are doomed to remain under Maximal rule forever. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you what it is, or at least what we THINK it is. You’re not cleared for that. And if I did tell you, it would mean the loss of my spark. What I can tell you is that your General has been ordered to fight to the last Predacon, even including himself, to obtain it.”

“That’s all I have for you,” concluded Tarantulas. “I wish you good fortune and success in the morning.” With that, he and ArcWave stepped inside the shuttle and closed the door. SteelTread turned to MetalClaw. “Corporal, form the squad and bivouac for the night.” “Okay, Sarge,” said MetalClaw. “Bots, follow me.” He led the squad to an open area a few meters away from the shuttle, and they settled down as a group.

A short time later, as the last sounds from bots powering down were dying away, TeleScan suddenly whispered, “By the PIT!”

“Report, Private,” said SteelTread.

“I know what it is we’re looking for, Sarge, and I just can’t believe it! It was only a legend, never supposed to really exist…” said TeleScan.

“Keep your voice down, lad,” replied SteelTread, “and get your wits about you. We’re on the enemy’s planet, and subject to attack at any time. Now what do you know and how did you find it out?”

TeleScan brought his voice level back to minimum and stowed his large audio receptors flat against his head. “I was listening in on the General talking to Tarantulas. Tarantulas is an officer in the Predacon Secret Police. The TriPredacus Council thinks that the Maximals have discovered a Decepticon Matrix of Leadership! I thought only the Autobots had one of those. The Council thinks that if we can capture it, the Predacons will unite behind it and we’ll be able to easily overcome the Maximals. That’s why we were ordered to fight to the last bot.”

MetalClaw interrupted. “Private, don’t you know it’s a court martial offense to spy on your superiors? You could be sent to the sulfur mines on Antagony Prime for 50 years if anyone finds out.”

“I know,” said TeleScan, “but if we’re going to all be killed tomorrow, I thought it might be nice to at least know why. I didn’t mean any harm.”

“Think of it!” whispered Titanion. “Think of what we could do with something like that! Why, we could…”

“We could nothing, Private!” interjected SteelTread. “Preds like you and me and the rest of us, we’re nothing but ground-pounding grunts, good for nothing but killing Maximals and getting killed in return. You’re not even qualified to look at something like that, let alone carry it. Why, even ArcWave himself couldn’t use it. Now all of you, shut up, set your internal chronometers for power-up one megacycle before sunrise, and power yourselves down. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, and I don’t want anyone wasting energy thinking about this all night.” With that, SteelTread went into shutdown mode.

Dawn on Meniscus 4 was a weak and pitiful thing to behold. With no atmosphere to speak of, the planet did not diffuse incoming light waves very much at all. It was dark one cycle and full daylight the next. Strike Team One, better known as the Steel Death squad, was already in robot mode, in position on the eastern edge of the Maximal base. Teams Two and Three were also in position to the north and south, respectively. Tarantulas and General ArcWave were in the troop shuttle to the east of SteelTread’s location, observing. ArcWave’s voice came over the radio: “Predacons, begin the attack!”

The Steel Death squad rose up from behind their cover positions. SteelTread said, “On my mark, three, two,one, MARK!” As one, the entire squad bellowed at maximum volume “Here’s your STEEL DEATH!” ThunderClap’s voice, as always, was much louder than the rest, loud enough to damage the outer wall of a nearby building. The squad then began to fire on the base.

SteelTread’s plasma siege cannon started to work on the nearest autogun emplacement. MetalClaw attacked the nearest outbuilding with laser fire. Titanion poured high velocity depleted uranium cannon rounds into the main building itself. ThunderClap used his sonic gun to fire on the outbuilding directly across from MetalClaw’s target. TeleScan hovered over the group, scanning to direct the squad’s fire on any opposing Maximals. And Gardicon threw a powerful protective shield in front of the group to deflect enemy fire.

The autoguns emerged from their protective housing and turned to face the Predacons just as SteelTread’s third shot destroyed the entire emplacement. “Nice shootin’, boss,” cheered MetalClaw, then “Uh-oh, here they come,” as the door to the main building flew open and five Maximals ran out into the compound. “They look mighty confused, Sarge,” said TeleScan, “I don’t think they’re even soldiers.” And that certainly was true, SteelTread noticed. The Maximals stood outside their building, looking to the north, south and east, but offering no resistance. Strike Team Two, commanded by the always ambitious Sergeant Smash, noticed this also, and rushed into the compound to take prisoners. “Cease fire, boys,” ordered SteelTread, “we wouldn’t want to bash old Smash.” As rest of his group chuckled at his little joke, SteelTread added, “Let’s find out what’s inside our mysterious building. And not a word to anyone else about our little spy caper last night. We could all be sulfur miners tomorrow if anyone finds out.”

MetalClaw, closest to the building, examined the locking mechanism as the others approached. He poked at the keys, then ripped the mechanism off the door, and finally in frustration ripped the door off its hinges. Looking inside, he turned to the approaching Predacons and said with a grin, “Hey, I guess it’s not all that mysterious after all.”

At that fateful moment, shouting broke out in the compound, and one of the Maximals broke free and ran toward MetalClaw. Smash turned, and shouting, “No you don’t!” fired a single shot at the escaping Maximal. SteelTread barely had time to shout, “Look out, ‘Claw!” The single plasma round, missing the Maximal, bounced off the broken door and entered the building.

A blinding white light and deafening explosion erupted from the building. Its sides and top bulged out, but the building remained intact. The entire force of the explosion was directed out through the door. MetalClaw, standing in the doorway, was caught in the blast, and disappeared from sight.

Everyone, even the escaping Maximal, stood stunned as the smoke cleared. The doorway was empty.

“Energon,” said the Maximal, approaching SteelTread’s position. “I was trying to warn him about the Energon. We mined some of it over in that valley, but it’s very unstable, so we stored it way out here away from the observatory.”

“Observatory?” asked SteelTread. “That’s all this is – an observatory?”

“That’s all it is,” agreed the Maximal. “There’s nothing here that anyone would want or need. That Predacon died for nothing.”

SteelTread walked blindly away from the Maximal toward the building as the troop shuttle landed. Stopping at the door, he looked down at the few pieces of melted metal and carbonized plastic that was all that remained of his friend of 40 years. General ArcWave came up and stood beside him as Tarantulas entered the building.

“Forty years, General,” said SteelTread. “Forty years of friendship, across space and time, fighting on who knows how many planets, facing enemies and death every day, and what does it come to? Nothing, that’s what it comes to. Ashes. Killed by a fellow warrior on a worthless planet, for five Maximal scientists and their telescope.”

“It’s tough to handle, Sergeant, but you have to know there was a reason,” said ArcWave. “We thought…”

“You thought?” said SteelTread, his voice rising in anger. “You THOUGHT? No sir, I don’t believe much thought went into this operation at all! If this operation had been properly planned, we would have gone in last night, using TeleScan for security and MetalClaw to open the door. They would have seen the Energon and reported back, and we wouldn’t be here right now. But instead, you took the advice of this…worm,” he said, pointing at Tarantulas, who had just left the building, “and now MetalClaw is DEAD! Sir, I’ve seen death on many worlds, but I have NEVER seen such a senseless death as this one!”

“Sergeant, you’re coming dangerously close to insubordination,” said ArcWave.

“General, I don’t plan to come any closer to it,” said SteelTread. “But let me say this. It has taken me over forty years to realize what the Predacon military has done to me, done to all of us,” he said, indicating the other members of Steel Death. “In all that time, Steel Death has always been the lead unit, first into battle, and proud to do it. But sir, Steel Death is also always the first to take hits, and the last to come out of the CR chambers. Up to now, we’ve never lost a bot. I was always certain that someone would buy it, but it would be while fighting the Maximal Fleet or against overwhelming numbers. Not like THIS! Not like this…” His voice trailed off, with the hint of a sob at the end, as he turned to walk away.

ThunderClap spoke unexpectedly. “Hey Sarge, I hear the Instructor Corps is looking for drill instructors at the Predacon Training Academy on Bakela Prime. That might be something for you to consider right about now. And I’ve had my optic on Fleet Intelligence School myself.”

Titanion was next. “I’ve been thinking about the Imperial Guards. I hear that’s pretty good duty.”

Gardicon was investigating a position with the Space Patrol. TeleScan thought that maybe the Supply Corps would be interesting. One by one, Steel Death notified the General that it was time for them to go. Finally, SteelTread turned, raised his great head, and fixed his optics on the General.

“Sir, we request a transfer.”

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SteelTread flicked out his tongue and tasted the air, looking slowly around the room. “So that’s it. Any questions before you go?”

“Sir, I have a question,” said a young trainee in the second row. “If you were such a fine combat unit, and fought with such honor, and earned all those medals, why would you ever want to quit?”

SteelTread smiled wickedly. “Trainee…Trainee…Slashwing, is it?” Slashwing nodded. “Well, trainee, I’m sure you’ll have a fine career in the military. You did well in claw-to-claw and weapons training, and your transformation speed is almost up to 95 percent. You might even be an officer some day. The whole point of my story is that the military should be controlled by the military. When you have outside agencies calling your shots and formulating your battle strategies, it can go sour in a hurry. You’ll start to lose soldiers, and some of those soldiers will be your friends. And some day, one of those soldiers will be YOU. The TriPredacus Council has operatives and agents everywhere, and they have the ear of a General here and an Admiral there. Their influence is spreading. When you see them come in, it’s time for you to transfer out. Maybe by telling you young ones this story, it might save someone’s spark, maybe even your own. And just maybe, if bots will use their optics and see what’s happening, tomorrow’s military can throw the TriPredacus Council out on its collective skidplates.”

“Any more questions?” asked SteelTread. “If not, then class is dismissed. Fly and be free.”

As the trainees filed out of the classroom, SteelTread thought to himself, “MetalClaw, my old friend, there’s another class of bright trainees that have heard your story. A couple of them may be Generals or Admirals one day. And when the TriPred agents show up on their doorstep, they’ll remember my story and remember you, and maybe this won’t happen again. I can’t think of a more fitting tribute to your memory.”

SteelTread left the classroom with a smile on his face.