Tipping the Balance

By Tony "Thunder" Klepack

    The trinary stars were at the height of their ascension in the green skies of O’h’ott. The lone Syntara watched their light cascade off the crystalline mountains and create a prism effect within the mountain range--the focal point of which was directly above his interdimensional realm, deep inside the planet.
    He hadn’t been here long, having been assigned to the small outpost in this relatively quiet area of the Realm just a few years ago. But the prism was the most beautiful thing he had encountered in his posting here so far and he found he enjoyed seeing it every seventy two hour cycle of this planet’s rotation.
    He’d been stationed here to monitor the Rei’kil, a race on the cusp of developing hyper-spatial acceleration systems–their first step into the larger Universe around them. They were a noble people and they had the potential to go far in all their endeavors. The Syntara predicted they could become a great power with time.
    They were a kind, harmonious people and he found that his assignment had largely been a tranquil one. He hadn’t been required to assume an identity among them merely observe them in secret from this place.
    He was disturbed from his thoughts by a slight dragging noise. He glanced around, seeing nothing in the darkness near his throne. There was no one else here and no way anyone could enter this realm without his knowledge.
    Yet, he had heard something...
    He rose from his throne and hovered in the air, attempting to track the noise to its source. Abruptly, the darkness came to life and a blade slashed through his ethereal chest. He dropped to the ground, stunned both by the intruder’s presence and the fact a physical weapon had done any harm to him.
    Gripping at the dissipating energy, he looked up to see a dark metallic being hovering over him, its saffron eyes glowing menacingly. It struck him as something oddly out of place amidst the clean, mostly bright energy realm beyond the chamber.
    “W-why?” he managed to spit out in his pain.
    “You exist,” the other replied. “And that isn’t acceptable to my employer. Besides, you killed me once–it only seems right I return the favor.”
    The Syntara said nothing in response but tried to move instead. Before he could get anywhere though, the creature sliced into him with his razor-sharp talons, tearing away the spectral being’s body further.
    He collapsed to the ground once again, this time feeling his energy bleeding out from his ruptured form at full strength.
    “Perish now,” the other said to him. “And know that in death you give life to the most beautiful art...”
    His talons clutched the ethereal form of the dying Syntara and instead of further pain, it felt it’s energy being drained more rapidly now--most certainly by some artificial method of it’s killer.
    And then, for the Syntara, all trace of light and beauty were gone replaced by eternal darkness...
            *            *            *
    Autaras sat atop his metallic throne in the circular chamber at the heart of his command ship, feeling the vessel pulsate and hum with life all about him.
    It had been four days since the incursion into the void by the Masters' organic vessel. He knew the encounter could only have been the work of the Syntara–only they had the knowledge and ability to accomplish such a task. He suspected they had an agent of some sort among the Masters–someone directed to alert them to the Armada's presence here and rally them against the enemy.
    There had always been a possibility the Syntara would be a problem in their plans–circumstantial evidence up to this point had suggested their interference before in other universes but this act had clinched it. No one else knew they were there–he had made certain of that. Only the Three could have been aware of his plans and precise location.
    And after some contemplation he had reached his decision. This annoyance had to be eliminated before they could potentially turn this Universe's forces against them or at the very least ruin their careful manipulation of the present circumstances. He had searched various realms before arriving at a solution, ironically, bred in the universe they were now interested in.
    He turned his attention to the dark silhouette to his left and addressed the creature he had summoned.
    "Tell me, Midnight, have you had any trouble in your assignment thus far?"
    The former Decepticon leered viciously. "It was nothing I couldn't handle–I am a professional, after all.”
    “And finely honed in your craft,” Autaras agreed. “How many Syntara remain still?”
    Autaras knew all too well about Midnight’s time-traveling ability, gleaned from the Time God Tarallax in another realm. It had only been four days since the incursion into the interdimensional void by the Masters, and only two since he had summoned Midnight to eliminate the Syntara. But thanks to the assassin’s mastery of traversing the streams of time, he had already eliminated the majority of their race over the years and through alternate dimensions in a seemingly minuscule amount of time.
    Midnight smiled wickedly. “Only the three that monitor this realm–as you requested.”
    “I suspect that of any of the Syntara they are certainly the ones to have initiated the action against me.” He smiled slightly. “Therefore, I feel it would be more appropriate if I paid them a visit as well.”
    “Whatever makes you happy,” Midnight offered. “As long as you can fulfill your part of the deal later...”
    Autaras raised his hand slightly, admiring the glint of the platinum ring on his left hand.
    “Of course,” he replied, returning his gaze to the assassin.
    “What’s the deal with the ring?” Midnight asked. “You seem to be fond of it.”
    He clenched his fist slowly and lowered it again. “It is of little relevance to you,” he said. “An alien artifact I encountered in another Universe some years ago...nothing more.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Midnight’s tone carried with it his disbelief in the answer. He knew it meant a lot more to Autaras then he claimed but not why. Autaras sighed, deciding he would have to be more careful in the future then to call attention to the ring in front of others who were not members of the Core.
    The rest of the Core were afraid of his prize, but outsiders would not understand its significance to him... it was far more then a mere adornment--it was a weapon of ultimate power that a young Autaras had accidentally uncovered in his youth while performing an archeolological dig on a long dead world.
    He still did not understand its full potential, but what he knew of its abilities thus far astounded and chilled him. The typical lifespan of an organic in the Armada was approximately five hundred terran years yet the ring had allowed him to survive well over three times as long while not physically aging him. Additionally, it had brought his people here to the interdimensional void in-between realities and allowed them to remain indefinitely. Its power was nigh infinite and he trusted in its might to destroy the Syntara and to ensure his people ultimate victory.
    That power was precisely what had allowed him leadership of the Armada as well as the fear and respect of his peers. They knew better then to cross him when he had made up his mind to accomplish something. Those that didn’t found out fast why his will was not to be denied.
    “I believe it is time we ended this then,” Autaras said finally. “Proceed your way to the final three Syntara--I look forward to meeting my adversaries in person.”
    A sharp toothed smile crossed Midnight’s maw at that and Autaras watched as he vanished in a burst of light.
    Yes, time to end this...
    Allowing himself a slight smile, he stood up from his throne and followed Midnight’s lead.
            *            *            *
    During his last fateful visit to Cindras Two, Midnight had never seen the interdimensional core of the world. A place, he would learn later that had sheltered his adversary at the time, Sunfire, and the residence of his eventual killer, the Decepticon Tempest.
    It was quite spectacular, he noted, as were all of their bases he had visited in the years he had been hunting them all down. Each was essentially the same esthetically, yet all had their own essence that was wholly and totally unique to that location.
    Reaching two large golden doors, he tensed and then tore abruptly through them, causing a large uneven gash in the dead center. He could’ve simply emerged within the inner chamber as he’d done so many times before–but he knew a message was being conveyed here and now and he would not disappoint.
    He emerged into a room with a ceiling of stars and nebulae, obscured slightly by a thin mist. The floor was a gleaming pattern of interlocking blue and red crystals, and on each side–where walls were expected–silver basins from which sprawled all manner of massive green and multi-colored foliage, assorted plant life from more than a thousand different worlds.
    In the center of the room, on a slightly risen platform of black crystal the Three sat atop their three crystalline thrones, seemingly unconcerned by the intrusion. The left most female turned her wisp-like head slightly as Midnight charged in toward them.
    As he reached the base of their platform an energy field collided into him, forcing to crash to the crystalline floor.
    “Greetings, Midnight,” the male one said. “We have been expecting you.”
    “It is ironic that the actions of our agent caused the downfall of our kind,” the other female stated.
    “It could not be helped,” the first female said. “The Enemy must be stopped and it was necessary she act to make the Masters believe the Enemy actually existed.”
    “Thanks to your time-traveling abilities, you acted too abruptly for us to realize the nature of your threat and stop you from eliminating our fellows.” The male told Midnight as he leapt to his feet once more. “We cannot traverse the streams of time as you can... still, this does not matter any longer. You are here now and we will not allow you to leave us before we have dealt with you.”
    Midnight attempted to shift temporally but felt himself unable to do so. As suspected, his prey were prepared enough to keep him from arriving a few minutes or hours before-hand and wiping them all out. They were learning and if they’d just had him to deal with, they might even be triumphant.
    “We will have vengeance for the deaths you have caused to our kind,” the male spoke.
    He had barely finished speaking when Midnight heard a distant buzzing from the interdimensional chaos behind him. He turned his head to see an energy wisp roaring toward him. Despite his attempts to stop it, the creature slammed into him, melding with his own dark-armored flesh.
    He fell to the ground in pain.
    “Wh–what have you done to me?!” he demanded.
    “We have used our tool of punishment against you,” one of the females explained. “You have been struck by the ethereal assassin.”
    “Normally, it is a tool of energy that punishes a rogue Syntara on occasion,” the male explained as Midnight convulsed in pain. “However, we know of your energy absorption powers and have adjusted the assassin accordingly. Even you cannot withstand an assault from null energy.”
    “And so it concludes,” the other female spoke. “We have stopped the tool of our destruction.”
    “Perhaps,” the first female replied. “But at a great price to our kind. Evidently Autaras is aware of our existence. It may only be time before he moves directly against us himself.”
    “Then let us not waste any time finishing off Midnight,” the male spoke.
    Midnight watched through a veil of pain as the Three combined their energies in the air beyond their thrones and then directed the effort at him. The energy struck him, slowly but roughly tugging at his molecular structure, forcing the atoms that composed him to separate.
    “Not...again...” he sputtered.
    Then, from behind the trio of Syntara, Autaras emerged suddenly and loosed an energy blast from his hand. Midnight could just barely see in his pained state as the blast tore into the Syntara female, scattering her energy and sending her to whatever afterlife the Syntara may have believed in.
    The assault against him abruptly stopped as the remaining two Syntara turned to face their new opponent. Midnight struggled to his feet and watched the inevitable confrontation take place.
    “So, you reveal yourself at long last Autaras,” the male Syntara said.
    “I am surprised you know my name,” he replied. “Although I suppose I shouldn’t be. You know everything, don’t you?”
    “We know what your real goals are concerning the Omniverse,” the female responded. “And we cannot allow you to succeed.”
    “Look what happened to your kind! You dared to interfere with my plans and now your race is dead--you two are the last remaining ones.” Autaras sneered at them. “We have eliminated the Transformers in all the realms we have ever attacked before–it will not be any different in this one either.”
    He smiled wickedly. “You don’t have the power to stop me!”
    “We shall see,” the female replied. Her and the male combined their energies against the lone Humanoid, assaulting him with every bit of energy they could muster.
    But it was apparent to Midnight that the effort would not be sufficient–he watched as the Armada leader protected himself with an energy shield. He seemed eerily calm in the wake of the attack.
    And Midnight knew why. Autaras was all too aware that he could best these two beings with little trouble...
    “You don’t stand a chance against the power of my ring!” Autaras exclaimed, raising his left fist. “Let your deaths be a warning to all the other higher powers who would dare interfere with me.”
    The ring emitted an multi-colored energy blast, tearing through the male Syntara. He collapsed, his ethereal form hovering loosely above the ground in near-death.
    Midnight found himself watching the spectacle with great interest, having now realized the true purpose of the adornment Autaras wore.
    “Midnight,” Autaras turned to him. “I give you the honor of the final kill.”
    At that, Midnight leapt into action, ignoring his pain and swept his razor sharp tail to slice through the remaining Syntara. She was severed in two, her tattered shards fell to the ground, joining her brethren.
    “W-we...die...” the male spoke as Midnight and Autaras approached him. “But...it is too late to stop us....our plan is already underway...y-you will be stopped!”
    “By whatever pathetic agent you have among the Masters?” Autaras asked, smiling at the other’s braveness in the face of death. “I seriously doubt it. After all, if your entire people couldn’t stand against me, what chance do they have?”
    “W-we shall...s-see....” the Syntara gasped out. He smiled coarsely. “Even if...we should fail ultimately...the ring may be your...undoing. Immortus....spectrus gre’ chi zerr’onn...Mordonai....”
    With that last gasp, Midnight watched the very last Syntara die. Well, the last active Syntara anyway... he had not mentioned Tempest, the fallen Syntara nor Sunfire, the agent among the Masters that he had once combated.
    “And so it ends,” Autaras said. “The last of my opposition falls. Now, the Transformers and their allies will meet with the end they so richly deserve.”
    He and Midnight teleported away.

    They reappeared in the chamber they had vacated earlier, neither saying a word in the face of their ultimate victory.
    Midnight gazed about while he awaited the other’s return to his solitary throne. The room’s walls were composed of assorted pipes and machinery that twisted and turned, running deep inside the ship’s depths. The chamber had an eerie red lighting to it. It was cold, mechanical and dull. He loved the color–it reminded him of blood and the sinister “art” he performed day in and out.
    He turned his gaze to Autaras.
    ”I’ve done my part,” he said. “Now it’s your turn...”
    Autaras walked up to his throne and reseated himself. A solitary white light illuminated him where he sat, juxtaposing him against the deeper red illumination beyond.
    “Ah yes, the deal,” he said. ”You eliminate the Syntara nuisance for me in exchange for my using my great power to contain Tarallax, your former master.”
    He leaned back in his seat, steepling his fingers. “But what of this agent of theirs among the Masters?” he asked. “Is he eliminated also? That was not the impression I got.”
    “What threat is one lousy agent? The Syntara lay dead at your feet now–and if they couldn’t stop you, how could one hope to?”
    Autaras smiled and nodded slightly.
     “Most true,” he agreed. “One agent is of little concern in the grand scheme of things–they can do nothing to contend with my power!”
    He looked to the other. “I have what I wanted. As for Tarallax, he and his schemes are of little concern to me. Should he ever attempt to interfere with me, I shall eliminate him as well...but for now, he is irrelevant.”
    “But...we had a deal!” Midnight exclaimed. “Don’t you understand? Tarallax wants to destroy everything in the Omniverse and rework it in his image–and he will succeed if we don’t stop him!”
    “I suspect the Omniverse is of less concern then your own continued existence is and what he will do to you if he ever catches you,” the other replied. “Irregardless, your use to me is at an end.”
    Behind Midnight, several cables on the wall dis-entangled themselves and ensnared him, securing him against the wall. He mentally engaged his time circuitry only to find that he was unable to shift out of the time frame he was in.
    “You are much too powerful to allow to continue existing...” Autaras continued. “Given time, you could rise to become an enemy. I do not like loose ends...”
    Autaras rose his left fist and aimed it at the other.
    “Farewell, Midnight.”
    Midnight watched the other and a wave of relief swept over him that he was indeed a time traveler and had foreseen his absence in the future. And as such, had constructed some insurance should this fate become an eventuality.
    Little Sunfire, so small and fragile... she had none the less stood against the dark demon in the caverns of Cindras Two. He had killed her eventually only to have the Syntara resurrect her to continue with their plans. Despite her inferiority, he had developed a respect for his adversary–few had the courage to fight the inevitable, after all.
    It was that respect that he made him decide to spare her life in this scheme of Autaras. If all else failed and Autaras was able to eliminate him, well then he had one final surprise for his former employer...
    An white energy beam erupted from Autaras’ ring, tearing into the dark armored form of the Decepticon assassin, killing him. Deciding to make certain, Autaras concentrated and the lifeless form disintegrated before him, its molecules scattering into the void from whence they’d came.
            *            *            *
    Sunfire stood in a vast field of golden wheat, a slight breeze whispering through her long white-silver hair, tossing it about chaotically.
    It wasn’t real, of course. At least, not strictly speaking. This was all a part of the artificially constructed environments that the Masters had constructed in their subterranean world here on the dead world they called Eden.
    But it felt right. Standing there in the near silence, feeling the air tickle her hair and the warmth of the sun on her back through the loose-fitting dress she wore, she began to appreciate her organic-based form. Like the Transformer before her, it too had it’s good points--she could never appreciate some of the sensations she had now back then. It just hadn’t been possible.
    “Sunfire...”
    She turned to see Optimus Prime standing beside her. Peculiarly, his normal optics had been replaced by the strange energy aura of the Syntara instead.
    “Optimus...?” she asked. “How are you? How did–”
    “W-we are....dying....Sunfire...” Optimus spoke in the voice of the Syntara. His tone seemed strained, even accounting for it’s alien origins. “The Dark One...h-has defeated us....y-you are the last....”
    She watched helplessly as Optimus toppled backward to the ground. She rushed to his side.
    “NO! Not again,” she whispered as she watched him convulse. And yet, some part of her mind knew that this wasn’t right. He had died long ago and been reborn as the Decepticon scout Tempest.
    This couldn’t be real!
    “You...are the last one,” he gasped further. “Stop the Dark Ones before...they succeed...” his chest heaved for another breath. “Beware the...r-ring Autaras wears... it is the most powerful--p-piece of...the Armor...”
    Optimus head turned to her, his alien eyes meeting with her own. For a moment, it seemed as if time stood still and then, he was gone... the fire of life extinguished out of his optics.
    Sunfire rose slowly and watched as Prime’s body turned ashen grey and then crumbled to dust. It was then that she noticed the world about her had turned dark grey. The skies overhead becoming cloudy and blocking out most of the light around her.
    She turned around as she heard a noise cutting through the air...
    A dark metallic beast charged through the air towards her and she instantly recognized it as the Decepticon assassin Midnight. He had just about reached her in a matter of seconds when–

    Sunfire awoke with a start, physically rising in her bed. Casting a glance about the room, it took her a moment to remember where she was. She had come to the Masters–the Children of Primus–to warn them of the impending darkness and she had even gone so far as to take them to the Void to show them the dark enemy itself.
    And it was after the strain of doing so, that they had returned to Eden–albeit, with the vessel almost crashing from wounds it had suffered by the enemy. And then... she’d ended up here somehow.
    “You’re awake!”
    She glanced up to see Rapture peering into her room. Her dark hair standing out in contrast with the rest of the Masters white-silver. But then she’d come from the Earth of the present era, her own psychic powers being a genetic anomaly that had emerged within her, making her an outcast among her own kind.
    “Yes. I had... a bad dream,” Sunfire replied groggily. “What happened? How did I get here?”
    “I brought you back,” the other explained. She smiled and came into the room, taking a seat beside the bed. “Don’t you remember?” She observed Sunfire’s expression. “Well, you were in pretty rough shape when we got back and barely able to stand. That was four days ago–you’ve been asleep ever since.”
    “Four days!”
    “Avatar and I have been taking turns watching over you,” she explained. “Your physiology is alien to us in some ways but as far as we could tell you were just in a sleep state that we couldn’t awaken you from. We hoped given enough time you’d come out of it yourself.”
    Sunfire rubbed at her face, shaking off the last vestiges of slumber. “Has the Circle reconvened? Have they made any decisions about what they’re going to do now that they’ve seen the Enemy?”
    Rapture shook her head. “Not that I’ve heard. As far as I know, Avatar has been giving them time to mull the matter over before they make a decision. That display was quite something, though–it really brought home the danger lurking out there to a lot of them.”
    “There’s been no sign of retaliation against the Masters, I take it?” Sunfire knew the answer before she even finished the question.
    “No, everything’s been quiet so far. Why? Do you think they’ll come after us and try to finish what they started?”
    “Eventually, yes,” she replied. “But right now, they’re likely playing on the Masters doubts. Making them wonder if they’re really such a threat or that maybe they just attacked because their ship got too close to something it shouldn’t. But I fear–“ she trailed off, lost in thought.
    The dream...
    It hadn’t been entirely natural, she knew. She could sense the otherworldly contact of the Syntara lingering in her sub-conscious and knew something was wrong.
    They were dying...
    She had to return to Cindras Two and see for herself–maybe, she could still help them out somehow... at the very least, she could try.
    “What? What is it?” Rapture asked as Sunfire rose abruptly from bed and went to get dressed.
    “I have to go!” Sunfire exclaimed. “Something’s terribly wrong.”
    A horrifying thought crossed her mind–if the Syntara were all dead or dying, what fate had befallen Tempest? Had she too met with her end? Would she have rediscovered her lost love only to loose him again? The pain from the first time had been unbearable...would she have to relive that all again–knowing that he would not be returning again this time. Or had he somehow evaded the Enemy in his guise as the Decepticon Tempest?
    The question kept returning to her mind and disturbing her more and more. She had to go to Cindras and see for herself. To find out for certain what had happened and to decide what to do next and where to go...
    “Where are you going?” Rapture demanded as Sunfire finished dressing and moved through the bedchamber door. “Tell me!”
    Sunfire stopped and spun about, facing her. “I told you all that I came from a race of celestial Watchers. I think they might have been attacked by the Enemy in retaliation for what we did–I can’t feel their presence anymore! I have to go back...”
    “Then I’m coming with you,” Rapture said as they began moving again. “You’re going to need all the help you can get!”
    “Come on, then,” she replied. “There isn’t much time!”