(Author’s Note: This story takes place in roughly the same time span that “Feral Plague” does, so some events will overlap. Also, just to help jog your memory, Scourge DID save eight stasis pods in “Scourge of the Earth, Part 1”. Y’know, just to prove that I’m not pulling this “extra pods” bit out of my butt or anything, heh. Enjoy!)

 Scarem dived to the ground as a metal chair flew through the space he had been occupying a split second ago.

 Scourge was mad - again. VERY mad.

 “I was so CLOSE!” Scourge screeched as he pounded a wall with his fist, leaving a sizable dent in its wake. Both of the former Vexorans were in Scourge’s personal chambers—with the doors locked to prevent any other Preds from entering at an inopportune time, of course.

 “U-uh… well, t-that’s better than completely failing…” Scarem stammered.

 “Shut up, Scarem! SHUT UP! YOU weren’t the one who threw away the last couple of MONTHS putting this thing together! And for what?! Why, the balancing out of our forces, slaggit - the exact OPPOSITE effect I was trying to achieve! As far as I’m concerned, I HAVE completely failed!”

 “Not… completely…” Scarem trailed off.

 Scourge sighed and calmed down slightly. “If you’re alluding to the stasis pods we saved, Scarem, that will hardly turn the tides. Fifty-eight transformers against fifty others is not a sizable advantage. Especially since now some of my flyers have gone missing whilst they were on patrol!”

 “But it’s certainly better than nothing…”

 “Hardly. Scarem, in case you’ve forgotten, my objective is to eliminate ALL of the Transformers! Not just the Maximals! The more Predacons I have, the harder it will be to get rid of all of them once the Maximals are taken care of!

 “But, Brother… why did you save those pods in the first place, then?”

 “Well, I was planning on using two of them to get us both off the planet after I had accomplished my mission, but it doesn’t look like that will be happening anytime soon. My best bet will be to build a communications array and just signal some of our brethren on our homeworld to come and ‘pick us up’, as it were. I originally had thought that it would have taken too long for the message to reach them, but it would appear that this war could drag on forever if the situation stays like it is. The other six I was planning to use as backup soldiers in case I starting to lose more Transformers than I had anticipated.”

 Scarem rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

 “…What is percolating in that head of yours, Brother?” Scourge asked, smirking.

 “Well, this is just an idea… but what if you used those eight extra pods for more than just reinforcements… like… some kind of Super Transformers or something?”

 Scourge frowned in thought. “It could work, yes. Eight stronger-than-average Transformers would prove to at least be enough to put us back on the offensive again. However, I could not make them nigh-invincible, otherwise it would be too hard to take them down after all was said and done. Hrrm… Ah! I’ve got it. Scarem, quickly- punch up a holographic image of the surrounding area. Have it encompass sectors Tallories through Pyron.”

 Scarem nodded and tapped a panel on the side of the wall nearest to him. A hole opened up in the middle of the room, and a circular table rose out of it until it was about waist-high. Scarem punched in a couple of buttons and the projector in the center of the table flickered on. A couple of more button presses later, Scourge had his desired image projection.

 “Excellent. Now, Computer - calculate best site for a communications array if the target destination is in Star Cluster 3UMQ5.”

 “Acknowledged.”

 After a few seconds of silence, the computer highlighted its answer on the holographic map.

 “Ah! Just as I thought,” Scourge said. “Sector Bargos.”

 “But... that’s a bit far from here, don’t you think? It would take an enormous amount of resources to keep supplies coming to a force big enough needed to take that area from the Maximals...” Scarem pointed out.

 “Which is precisely what I had in mind, Scarem.”

 “Oh… Wait, what?”

 “This ‘Super Transformers’ idea of yours… I think I’m going to use it, but with some modifications. By themselves, the eight Transformers I’m going to create will not be much stronger than your average Maximal or Predacon. However, they will have one advantage that would prove to be a great help to us in this particular mission… a resistance to energon radiation buildup.”

 “But… how? And why would that be such an advantage in this particular situation?”

 “Scarem, have you spent no time at all studying the material that I gave you soon after we arrived on this planet!? Sector Bargos is at such a distance from here that it was not hit full-force by the planet destroyer earlier in the Beast Wars. Whereas all the energon locally has been turned into stable energon cubes…”

 “…the energon there is still mostly raw!” Scarem finished.

 “Ah! Good! There is still something in that skull of yours after all. For regular Transformers, they would need to spend needless time and energy remaining in their alternate forms more often than when they’re traveling, as this would most certainly be a long term mission. But not for these new Transformers. As for how… I think that, using my knowledge of Vexoran technology, I could devise a way to create an energon “shield” of sorts around the eight Transformers. In addition, this added bonus would allow them to forego these horrendous beast modes in favor of… more efficient alternate modes.”

 “…You mean vehicles?”

 “Right again, Scarem! You’re getting good at this. Vehicle modes don’t seem to protect Transformers from energon radiation, but with these energon shields, they won’t need to. Hrmm… yes, this will work VERY nicely… Scarem?”

 “Yes?”

 “Fetch me the eight pods from storage. Oh, and be sure to extinguish one of their sparks.”

 “Um… why?”

 “Because… while you do that, I’M going to be devising a way to reprogram a certain immortal spark.”

 “Ooooh….”

 Scarem wiped his face with his claw as he entered Scourge’s chambers.

 “Whew. It’s taken us five straight days to do, this, Brother, but we’re finally ready.”

 “Your half of the designs have been completed?”

 Scarem nodded and handed his Vexoran brother blueprints of the designs he had created. Scourge quickly skimmed them over.

 “Hrmm… a helicopter… a tank… a race car… and… what is this thing, anyway?”

 “Err… it’s kind of an ATV… pom-pom tank…thing. It’s just something I thought looked cool.”

 “I see. Excellent job, Scarem. I too have completed my four designs, including the design for our… heheh… friend… here,” Scourge chuckled, motioning to the spark containment unit sitting on the table next to him.

 “…So you’re positive Rampage won’t rebel or anything?”

 “It will be absolutely impossible, Scarem. I already have the stasis pod that will hold his spark programmed with very specific instructions. Essentially, he will have his same wonderfully sadistic personality, but not an ounce of rebellion in him. In fact, I’m so positive of his loyalty that I’m going to name him in honor of Megatron’s own brainless lackey, Scavenger. Is everything hooked up?”

 “Yep. Retrax and Sandstorm are waiting outside the programming room for us.”

 “Excellent. Let’s proceed. You HAVE told the other Predacons that the communications array is going to merely be sending a message to Cybertron and not Vexora, correct?”

 “Yep.”

 Scourge eyed over his eight new soldiers, standing in a rank-and-file formation in front of the stasis pods they had emerged from. From quick scan, all of their systems seemed to be working in perfect condition. Scourge was especially fond of how his new soldiers looked—less humanoid than the other Transformers, and more like cold, calculating machines.

 Which is what they truly were, Scourge reminded himself.

 He’d have to congratulate himself later.

 “My new Vehicons,” Scourge stated in a firm authoritative voice, “Welcome to the Predacons. I am their leader Scourge. You will obey me, and only me. If I am incapacitated or busy for some reason, you will obey my second-in-command, Scarem. Is this clear?”

 “Yes, sir!” came the reply from the assembled Vehicons.

 “Good. Now, one by one, starting with you on the left, tell me your names and specialty.”

 “Obsidian, Vehicon Leader. Speciality in tactics and ground support fire.” stated the leftmost of the Vehicons. He was the helicopter design that Scarem had created, Scourge mentally noted. Obsidian was very unique in that his feet never actually touched the ground- he was held aloft by constantly rotating propellers attached to his shoulders. His face was much longer than it was high, and the red coils that lined his mouth almost looked like a mustache as he talked. Obsidian bowed deeply in front of his leader.

 “Strika, Vehicon Second-in-Command,” the ‘bot immediately to the right of Obsidian said. “Speciality in tactics and frontline ground assault.” Scourge noted that Strika was the one who had the alt mode of the ATV/pom-pom tank Scarem had designed. Judging from her voice, Strika was female—Scourge was surprised by this, as she certainly didn’t look it. She was very large, thick, and top-heavy- in fact, she was the tallest Vehicon there. She had huge, gorilla-like arms, and a very small waist. Her face looked like she had some sort of gas mask covering her mouth, and two small nut-and-bolt “pigtails” came out of the sides of her head. Her feet actually didn’t quite touch the ground, but ended in hoverpads that kept her an inch or so off the surface. “At your service, Lord Scourge.”

 “Tank-orr… at command.” The next ‘bot in line fumbled. Scourge frowned slightly. It seemed that this one was a bit dim in the neural processor. He didn’t speak correctly, and it almost seemed like he had to force each word out of his mouth. “Good… in frontline… ground combat.” Scourge quickly returned his face to a neutral expression. It seemed that Tankorr here would make up for his lack of intelligence by his great strength. He was only a couple inches shorter than Strika, but he was a little stockier. He had a huge energy cannon above his right shoulder, and his “optics” were actually just one visor with a glowing red scanning “pupil” roaming from side to side. His arms were especially huge and ended in claws. It seemed that chainsaws could flip out from behind them, which Scourge noted would certainly be useful. Scarem did a good job with this one. Tankorr’s feet were actually tank treads.

 “Name: Mirage. Allegiance: Vehicon.” The fourth bot stated emotionlessly. “Speciality: Scouting and hit-and-run attacks. Special Ability: Teleportation.” Scourge immediately took a liking to this Vehicon. He was exactly what machines should be- completely emotionless and focused. Mirage’s voice was what was most striking, though- it was completely computer-generated; flat, toneless and slightly raspy. Mirage’s face itself lent no emotion to his tone, either - he had a rather large forehead with optics on its underside and a rather small, vented, gas-mask-like mouth. His arms had missile launchers attached to them, and his legs were rather large proportionally. Scourge recognized him as the race car design Scarem had turned in to him.

 “My name is Thrust. I specialize in scouting and suppression fire, boss,” the fifth Vehicon said. Scourge noted that Thrust’s voice was unusually low and mellow. His alternate mode was one that Scourge himself had designed - it was a futuristic motorcycle. As for his robot mode, his arms ended in three claws positioned around a blaster, and his legs actually came back together at the feet to form a single wheel, which he balanced on.

 “The name’s Blastcharge, sir,” the sixth Vehicon saluted. “My speciality is in long-range weapons fire and targeting.” Blastcharge’s voice had a definite “stiff old military general” feel to it, which was suiting, given that his alternate mode was an artillery six-wheeled vehicle. His robot mode was more humanoid than most of the other Vehicon’s—he had normal hands and feet, although is feet were a bit larger than normal. His face also had a very “gas mask” feel to it. His chest was his most distinguishing feature, however- a large missile launcher protruded from it, capable of firing three missiles at a time from the looks of it.

 “Spystreak’s the name, espionage and infiltration are my game, Commander,” the next ‘bot in line said. “I have an advanced spark shield; all but the most sophisticated sensors cannot detect me.” Scourge noticed that this particular Vehicon was dwarfed by all the others; in fact, he only came up to the shoulder of Mirage, who was the next-shortest. In fact, what was most extraordinarily about this Vehicon was that his forearms made up about half of his mass; they were absolutely huge when compared to the rest of his body. His right arm ended in a double-barreled missile launcher, while his left ended in an absolutely huge two-pronged claw. Spystreak’s face itself was rather streamlined and it almost looked like he was wearing a silver cap. Spystreak was also another of Scourge’s own designs; his alternate mode was a stealth jet.

 “My name is Scavenger, Commander Scourge,” the last Vehicon said. “I specialize in construction and close-range combat.” If you listened closely, Scourge noted, you could tell that Scavenger’s voice was indeed Rampage’s—however, it was completely devoid of its usual mocking tone, and thus almost unrecognizable to the ‘bots who really knew him. It seemed that his programming had gone off without a hitch, Scourge noted with satisfaction. As for Scavenger’s body itself, he had somewhat small legs and a large upper body. His pipe-like arms ended in long, sharp claws, but what was most remarkable was his head—it barely peaked above his chest, and was incredibly small. Small, piercing yellow optics shone out from under the flat forehead, and Scourge couldn’t help but smile at his new creation. His alternate mode, Scourge remembered, was a type of treaded combination construction and assault vehicle with a long neck and “head” surrounded by guns. Scourge had based it on a popular war machine found on his home planet.

 “Well, then,” Scourge said, shaking himself out of his thoughts, “Welcome to the Predacons. I have already programmed into you the reason you were brought online, so I presume you know where you need to build the communication array?”

 All of the Vehicons nodded.

 “Excellent. Now, my troops have uncovered further information since you have been preprogrammed that is vital to your mission. According to our scouting reports, the sector you will be setting up the communications array in—Sector Bargos—is patrolled once every three days by a Maximal team consisting of six members. You eight should easily be able to dispatch of this small force, but be warned—the hardest part of your mission will not be taking control of the sector, but in maintaining that control. The Maximals will no doubt want to avenge their lost comrades, so make sure, Obsidian and Strika, that you have both collaborated on a long-term plan. I will only be able to send minimal supplies to your area once you have gained control of it. According to their schedule, the Maximals will again be patrolling this area tomorrow evening. Until then, you all are dismissed. Sandstorm and Retrax here will show you to your quarters.”

 As the Vehicons walked, wheeled, or hovered out of the room, Scarem walked up next to Scourge, twiddling his claws.

 “… So…” Scarem said, “… Now what?”

 “Now, Scarem,” Scourge replied, “We see if all our hard labor was really worth it.”

 Obsidian looked through magnified heat vision at the six Maximals on the other side of the valley, making sure that none of them exhibited any unusual behavior.

 “Spystreak,” Strika said through her comlink, “Any sign that the Maximals have picked up on our presence?”

 “Negative, ma’am,” came the reply. “They actually seem a bit bored, if anything.”

 Strika looked over at Obsidian, who nodded.

 “Excellent,” Strika said back through her comlink. “Commence the attack, as planned.”

 Razorbeast heard something move quickly behind him.

 Turning around, the Maximal was surprised to find that his teammate was not behind him.

 “What the-“

 Razorbeast froze as he saw a sleek vehicular Transformer he had never seen before walk back onto the path behind him, carrying his mangled patrol partner—a Maximal whose alternate mode was a Tasmanian devil—in his huge left claw.

 “Oh, don’t mind me, Maximal,” the unknown Transformer grinned. “Finish what you were going to say.”

 At the sound of the unknown Transformer’s voice, the other four members immediately turned around and transformed into robot mode.

 Razorbeast snorted, transformed from his boar mode, and raised his gun, beckoning his team members to do the same as well. “You just made a bad move… whoever you are.”

 Razorbeast and his team members’ gaze dropped to their comlinks as they beeped red, informing the team in its calm, feminine voice that seven unknown energy signatures were approaching them.

 “Don’t worry about that now!” the patrol commander, a Transformer whose alternate mode was a polar bear, told the team, “If we can capture that other Transformer, we can use him as a hos-“

 Polar Claw stopped short as he and the other teammates refocused their gaze on Spystreak- or rather, where he used to be. He had disappeared entirely from the path.

 Another member in the group-- a Transformer whose alternate mode was an armadillo—gulped and charged his gun.

 “Keep your sensors on full, Maximals,” Polar Claw nervously told his teammates. “We’ve got company.”

 No sooner had Polar Claw finished his sentence when a huge tank-like vehicle came crashing onto the trail, leaving downed trees in its wake. Four other vehicles followed the tank into the clearing.

 “TANKORR SMASH!!!”

 “Maximals - attack!!!”

 Armordillo was the closest one to where Tankorr had come in, and was almost immediately overrun by the huge tank. He jumped out of the way at the last second, but Tankorr’s reaction time was faster than Armordillo had expected, as the large tank immediately transformed into its robot mode and backhanded the much smaller Maximal into a nearby tree. Armordillo shook his head and refocused his vision just in time to see Tankorr’s huge right foot come down on him.

 Thrust was the next one out of the path Tankorr had made, and started circling around Razorbeast in his motorcycle mode, separating the boarbot from his comrades. What was worse, Razorbeast was having a hard time seeing, as Thrust was starting to stir up a lot of dust and debris from his constant circling. Razorbeast fired blindly into the dust cloud surrounding them, but he wasn’t rewarded with any grunts of pain. Razorbeast thought he heard something coming up from behind him, but he turned too late—a familiar huge claw emerged from the dust cloud and crushed his head into a pulp.

 Blastcharge came out of the pathway next, and took on a Transformer whose alternate mode was a wolf—which his preprogrammed datatracks recognized as Wolfang. Blastcharge transformed, but not before a couple of shots hit him in the side.

 “Nice try, soldier!” Blastcharge laughed. “Now it’s my turn!”

 Blastcharge’s chest missile launcher suddenly seemed to explode with legions of missiles, all aimed at his adversary. Wolfang managed to dodge the first one before ten more hit him, blowing him into at dozens of pieces.

 The flying squirrel transformer named Night Glider was incredibly frustrated. The Transformer he was firing at—one whose alternate mode was a race car, by the looks of it—seemed to be everywhere at once! Night Glider would fire at the Transformer at one area—and by all estimates, he SHOULD have hit him—only to have the Transformer appear somewhere else and pepper him with a few shots before he could dodge. It was wearing him down fast, and Night Glider didn’t know how much more of this he could take without support from his teammates, who seemed to be more than occupied themselves.

 Suddenly, the Transformer seemed to appear on TOP of Night Glider, and forced the surprised Maximal down onto the ground. Night Glider tried to struggle, only to have a missile blown through the back of his head.

 Polar Claw watched in helplessness as his entire team was destroyed in less than half a minute. The polar bear Transformer tried to move, but he was held down by the iron grip of a large, construction-vehicle Transformer with an unusually small head.

 “Ah… I can taste the fear you’re feeling, Maximal,” the Transformer said. Even though he had no mouth, Polar Claw knew that the other Transformer was smiling on the inside. “Seeing the deaths of your comrades is… painful, isn’t it? Ah, yes… focus on the pain… let it grow… ah, that’s it…”

 “Scavenger, I see everything has gone well,” said a new voice, blocked from Polar Claw’s view by Scavenger’s large bulk.

 “Indeed it has, Obsidian,” Scavenger replied back. “What should I do with Whitey here?”

 “Kill him… but save his head.”

 Scourge laughed as he turned off the comlink.

 The Vehicons had pulled off the mission even easier than he had hoped! And the Maximals would get a wakeup call when they saw what had happened—no way was Scourge going to be defeated THIS easily.

 Of course, Scourge was going to make the Maximals pay for the setbacks they had given him so far. He had given some… special… instructions to Obsidian on what to do after he had finished the mission.

 Ah yes, the Vehicons were an excellent team, and now his missing flyers had finally returned as well. Things were looking up indeed…

 Rhinox looked up from his work to see Dinobot entering his chambers, solemn-faced and with one hand behind his back.

 “Dinobot… what’s wrong?”

 Dinobot wordlessly handed the object behind his back to Rhinox.
 

 “It was… dropped at our front gate. We tried to target the messenger, but he managed to somehow teleport away before we could fire on him. I am sorry.”
 Rhinox looked in horror at the mangled, charred, and cracked skull of Polar Claw on the table before him. Scratched into the top were the words “STAY OUT OF SECTOR BARGOS.”

The End
 

(Author’s End Note: Many of you may be wondering after reading this fic why Jetstorm, arguably the most popular of the Vehicons, wasn’t included in the lineup. I did this for two main reasons. First, there already is a Jetstorm in my fanfiction series- the dragonfly. As you’ve probably been able to piece together from the dialogue, he has the same personality as his Vehicon counterpart, so you won’t miss anything there. He’s just not a Vehicon. Secondly, I couldn’t see Jetstorm’s flamboyant personality fitting in with the other Vehicons on the team—he’s simply too much of a “take charge” kind of guy and too unprofessional. He’d clash too much, especially with Obsidian and Strika, so that’s why I didn’t include him.)

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