Face of The Enemy

By Matt "Talon" Kirkby


    "Look at them all! It's like a swam of Insecticons."
    Lightning wished feverently that Manta Ray would keep quiet. Then the Decepticon suppressed a smile as he watched the fifty or more Disciples working to repair a broken traisitway...they worked with seemingly mindless devotion, lifting and welding the broken roadway back together like a single entity — functioning exactly like a swarm of insects.
    "I wonder why they all look alike?"
    "Shut up," Lightning hissed.
    "But look at them. I mean, really look at them. Haven't you been studying the vidtapes? That one carries himself like Venom— I'd know that hunched paranoid arrogant stance anywhere. And that one is scuttling about like Kickback used to."
    "Shut up!" Lightning didn't care about the body language of the Disciples. He was stuck on an enemy-controlled Cybertron, making a 'simple recon’ while the Dark Glory underwent repairs and upgrades...and stuck scouting enemy territory before Megatron would move against the Disciples. He forcibly suppressed a giggle. The great and glorious Megatron...how little he really controlled current events. Soon....
    "Hey, Lightning—"
    "Shut up!" Lightning had plans of his own...the secrets of the universe were known to him... and through pain he would share those secrets with others until everyone could revel in the universal constant— chaos!
    "Lightning!" Manta Ray was even more insistent.
    "Will you keep silent!" lightning shrieked. Even as he mentally cursed his own lack of control, ha saw the problem: twenty Disciples were wandering towards them... wandering very deliberately towards them. "Now you've done it!" he snarled.
    "Me? But you were the one—"
    "Shut up!" Sparks crackled around Lightning's clenched fists. "Run!" He unleashed a bolt of energy that sent three Disciples reeling. Then he turned and ran into the rubble which had once been part of lacon.
    The wreckage of lacon was like a maze…multi-leveled, debris-choked, dimly-lit labyrinth of tunnels and balconies and fallen, transitways and crumbled buildings.
    "I'd much ratter be flying," Lightning muttered softly as he paced slowly through one tunnel. Of course, the Disciples would spot him pretty quickly if he did take to the sky and they'd be chasing him in an instant. He ignored the silent stares of two dead Autobots as he kicked a stray foot-module out of his path.
    There are other options... a voice whispered in his thoughts. Those mindless sheep are all your fuel...kindle their minds with your knowledge and then let the unchained chaos rule!
    Lightning giggled aloud, hearing the hollow echoes rolling through the tunnel. "Let the unchained chaos rule,'" he repeated with a grin. "Let unchained chaos rule!'" More laughter echoed through the tunnel...and he laughed even harder.

    Manta Ray crept silently along one street, keeping to the shadows whenever possible. Overhead, he spotted two shuttles dropping out of orbit. Legion–class dropships from their look, capable of ferrying almost five hundred soldiers at once...if the Disciples' ships ware anything like those used by Galvatron's Decepticons... and those probably were Galvatron's shuttles captured during the failed invasion, "Not good news in any case," he muttered. He’d lost his pursuers, lost sight of Lightning too, and was himself thoroughly lost. He hadn't seen any of the other scouts, couldn't make contact with anyone for that matter, and Disciples— many of them probably former Decepticons or Autobots— were everywhere. "I really do not like this."
    "Why not?"
    Manta Ray whirled around, summoning his pistol from subspace storage. It was too late to fire though, and too late to run.
    Twelve Disciples had surrounded him.
    "Welcome to the material kingdom of our Lord Primus," one of them announced in a harshly synthesized voice. "We greet you in His name."
    "Uh, likewise," Manta Ray stammered. He winced at the scratchy sound of the Disciple's voice...a vary low quality voice synthesizer apparently.
    "Do you know our Lord?" asked a second Disciple, in a voice as poorly synthesized as that of the first,
    Manta Ray looked around, but he could see no escape routes. "Well, I know of Him. I've heard the and watched some vid-tapes of the Unicron War."
    "He is the Savior."
    "He is the Creator."
    "He is the Guardian of Life."
    "He is our Lord."
    "He is the Light in the Darkness,"
    "He instills Order among Chaos."
    "He is the One," all of the Disciples intoned in unison, their scratchy-sounding voices oddly complimenting each other, "and we are but pacts of the One."
    "Bring him!" one Disciple ordered. "He must be taken to the Altar of Primus, taken before the Will, where he can be indoctrinated in the'word and brought into the willing service of our Lord."
    "No thanks," Manta Ray replied, backing away. "I really must be go—'' Hands grabbed at his arms and shoulders. "No, I don't want to do this! Guys--''
    "The Prophet will guide you to the shelter of Primus's hand." All of the Disciples were sidling in a disturbingly-vacant manner. "You will be become One with us."
    Manta Ray struggled harder.
            *            *            *
    Lightning eyed the lone Disciple with a bright gleam in his optics. "Perfect.1* No one else was nearby — the area was all but deserted. Creeping forward silently, the Decepticon slipped up to the mechanoid.
    "Ah," the Disciple exclaimed as he abruptly turned and saw Lightning standing behind him. "Another lost soul who has yet to hear the Word of our Lord Primus." His blue optics gleamed as he held out his arms in greeting.
    "Yes," Lightning nodded. "Do tell me all about it."
    "Primus is the Savior. He is the Creator. He is the Guardian of Life."
    "That he is!" Lighting agreed.
    "He is our Lord," the Disciple continued. "He is the Light in the Darkness."
    "Amen!"
    "He instills Order among Chaos."
    "Now that is where I must draw the line!" Lightning unleashed a barrage of energy from his hands into the Disciple.
    Blue optics flared with excess light, and energy crackled from the Disciple's open mouth, miniature lightning rippled across the Disciple's body. As Lightning gathered his energy for another burst, the Disciple managed to gasp: "Why?"
    "Pain is a universal language, my friend," Lightning replied with a giggle. "And I do so want everyone to be fluent in it." He unleashed another bolt.
    Lightning chuckled...the joke of it all was so funny! Thus far his attempts at indoctrinating the Disciples had failed, rather spectacularly. It appeared that the Disciples had no minds of their own for him to warp! The irony of that was hilarious!
    Stilling his laughter, he stared around himself at the ruins of a power station which burned and sparked as still-functional circuitry overloaded. "I am the forerunner of chaos!" Lightning shouted to the Disciples who had once manned the station and were now in hiding...if any had survived that is. He neither knew nor cared if anyone had lived through the assault-he had fired off energy bolts with complete disregard, not even bothering to try and convert more Disciples to his command. "And in my path, I leave only chaos!"
    Smoke puffed into the air as machinery obeyed its programmed commands and enacted a mechanical version of some organically dreamed hell. Smoke and fumes puffed out of vents in the domed building and curled up around the spires of lacon, coiling dark tendrils around the upper spires of the Celestial Temple.
    Having infiltrated the structure—ventilation systems ware so predictable, yet also useful—Lightning had perched himself atop one huge—and to him unidentifiable—machine and looked around.
    The Disciples he could see seemed busy as they stood at standard-locking computer consoles and manipulated banks of controls, or transported supplies on hoverwagons...indeed, they had constructed this entire facility immediately following their conquest of Cybertron for some as yet unknown purpose. "I wonder why," Lightning mused, a grin twitching at his faceplates. So he slipped deeper into the factory, looking around carefully at everything he could see. The more he looked, the wider his smile became.
    Making his way randomly through the facility, lightning saw dozens of Disciples at work. Every Disciple he saw was identical in design to every other Disciple. He took some care to avoid detection, but the air was hazed with smoke and noxious fumes, which obscured vision so that he didn't have to devote all that much attention to staying hidden. The place throbbed continuously with the thrum of machinery, whirs and beeps from computers, distant hisses...and not one vocalized announcement or report—the Disciples did not talk aloud to one another.
    Lightning stopped in one chamber to stare at a huge box-like machine which dominated the otherwise empty room. It was a rectangle easily twenty meters by nearly forty, and stood nearly twenty meters high, with a Transformer-sized opening in one side. The chambers temperature was hot—on the threshold of actually being painful—and the air was heavy with the stench of scotched paint and metal.
    The door to the chamber hissed open.
    Lightning ducked behind a large pipe in the corner. It emerged from the floor and vanished into the ceiling, having soma purpose he couldn't readily identify, and he didn't care.
    The Disciples stepped into chamber in lockstep, escorting a Transformer through the doorway.
    Lightning’s optics widened slightly.
    The Disciples’ prisoner was Manta Ray, but he was putting up no resistance—indeed, he was stumbling along side his captors as if his mind was on auto-pilot. The Disciples stepped up to the huge machine and casually pushed Manta Ray's body into the opening. The two Disciple stepped back as a row of lights atop the machine suddenly blazed into life and the opening sealed itself. The machine began to shudder slightly...the temperature grew hotter and smoke puffed out of vents.
    Some time later—ten minutes...twenty...thirty minutes?—the machine fell silent and the opening unsealed itself.
    A Disciple—Identical in appearance to every other Disciple—stepped out of the machine, tendrils of steam still rising from his gleaming armor. The three Disciples marched out of the chamber in lockstep, as if all controlled by the same mind.
    Shocked, Lighting stepped out' of concealment. "Manta Ray!" he called out. "What’s happened to you?"
    The three Disciples froze in mid-step. They turned around. The center one—formerly Manta Ray—stood silent, for a moment, tilting his head in apparent thought. "Lightning."
    "Yeah, it’s me."
    Manta Ray took n step forward, his blue optics bright. "It is good that you have come here," he announced in a scratchy, poorly synthesized voice. "It is time for you to take your place in something far greater than yourself."
    Lightning frowned. "Oh?"
    "We must work with each other, united for one purpose."
    "Most assuredly." Lightning playfully sent a brief bolt of electricity crackling from his fingers and into a console, which exploded. "What do you suggest?"
    "Primus is our lord," Manta Ray continued.
    "So the histories claim. I've never met the guy myself so I can't say for certain...."
    "This world shall be a birthplace for a new order…one guided by the will of our lord Primus." Manta Ray's expression was devoid of emotion. Inwardly, some portion of his mind was pleased that his former comrade was listening to him...it was just as the Will had explained earlier. "Duty and service must come before games and frivolity."
    "Now that is where we must disagree," Lightning told him with a grin. "This is our world," he gestured to the fetching Disciples, "and it has become a birthplace— for the children of chaos!" Explosions underscored his maniacal laughter... distant roars getting rapidly closer. "Let me show you!" fiery bolts crackled from his fingers and rippled across Manta Ray's body.
    The new Disciple shuddered and shook as his circuitry was overloaded. Then he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
    "Well, that didn’t work." Lightning stared at the body of his former comrade in disgust. "Megatron is going to be so ticked!" Then he looked up with a grin. "Oh well." He punched one of the Disciples, and then shoved him into his comrade. As both mechanoids toppled to the floor, Lightning took off running. "See ya! I got places to be, minds to warp!"
    A dozen Disciples stepped around the coner of the corridor. They raised weapons into firing positions. "Surrender," they ordered in unison. "You cannot escape... resistance will be punished."
    "It's a wide corridor," Lightning said aloud, "This could be fun." He transformed to his jet mode. "Head's up!" Firing his engines to maximum, he rocketed forward and rammed through the Disciples, sending body parts flying. "I warned you!" He fired his weapons and blew a hole through the ceiling, through which he quickly vanished.
            *            *            *
    The shuttle was still waiting, hidden inside the ruins of a former Autobot military outpost.
    "It's about time you got here!" Thrust complained when Lightning dove out of the sky and transformed back to his robot mode. "And what do you think you're doing? Flying? Where every Disciple can see you?"
    "Don’t get your circuits sizzled...we'll be gone long before those brainless drones find us." He pushed his way past Thrust and towards the shuttle.
    "Manta Ray?" Thrust demanded as he followed. "The two of you left together."
    "Our comrade has been converted," Lightning replied in a frosty tone. "He has joined the enemy...so I had to teach him a lesson." He giggled, "A permanent lesson."
    Thrust shook his head. "You are one piece of work."
    "Thank you."
    Thrust keyed the shuttle hatch to seal. Then he watched the other Decepticon vanish behind an interior bulkhead. "And one day you're gonna go too far, my friend, and then we'll see just who teaches who."