Tales of the Intermezzo - Freedom A Transformers Universe Story copyright 2000 by Dave Van Domelen based on properties owned by Hasbro =========================================================================== "intermezzo - n. A brief entertainment between two acts of a play." - American Heritage Dictionary Cutter surveyed the room nervously. While Cybertron had become a blend of organic and technological, it wasn't homogenous by any means. Some places were more organic...more INFECTED...than others. He'd chosen this meeting place because it seemed to be nearly pristine in its inorganic appearance. He knew that living veins of techno-organic matter ran beneath the floor panels and within the walls, but for now the appearance was what was important. He wanted to make a particular impression. The door chime sounded, a clear and metallic tone. It had taken Cutter several days of searching to find a proper chime to replace the one the room had contained initially. The old one had chirped like a bird. "Come in," Cutter called out. He hoped the visitors were his intended guests...but if a Maximal had come calling to be "neighborly," he'd have to fake it out. Three figures entered as the door swung aside with a satisfying clunk at the end. Each was as minimally tainted by organic matter as Cutter himself, and he inwardly sighed with relief. "Zigzag...Recoil...Alabaster..." he greeted the three in turn as they entered and took seats around the cog-shaped table. Recoil and Alabaster would be important symbols in the coming days. Zigzag was more of a liability, but he had been Cutter's only way of getting an introduction to the other two, so the speed demon was included in the meeting. "Fellow Vehicons," Cutter started, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice. Supposedly there were no more Vehicons, the faction had died with the second Megatron. But the ideals had not, and as sparks flooded back into bodies that had originally been mindless drones, many of the newly "liberated" Vehicons had realized they would have followed Megatron anyway. "I know there is a danger to meeting like this, where we might be observed and arrested as potential renegades. But there are some things which cannot be done via message drops. We all share Megatron's vision for a purely technological Cybertron...a vision that I think is within reach." "How?" Recoil demanded. "Megatron could not accomplish it, how could we lesser lights? If only Megatron had not left me behind during the final battle, we might already live in such a perfect world," the former bodyguard lamented. "I don't wanna live like the ancient Autobots, Cutter," Zigzag objected. "Hiding in the corners, scraping up resources and hoping we don't get squashed." Cutter shook his head. "We've already seen the seductive, corrupting influence of Cybertron as it now stands," he looked pointedly at Alabaster. His brother Obsidian had immediately requested reformatting upon being rescued from orbit. He had ended up almost fully organic, a tree guarding over Botanica's gardens. "The Autobots fought merely to reshape the philosophy of Cybertron, we'd have to reshape the form of Cybertron itself or be overcome in the end. Many of us were left largely mechanical by the Great Reformatting, although too many more suffered the same fate as Thrust. Or Obsidian," Cutter ventured. Alabaster's visorplate glowed the deep red of sullen anger. "No, I propose we emulate the Autobots in a different way," Cutter continued. "Leave." "How?" Alabaster asked, breaking his dour silence. "None of the space fliers remained untouched by the Reformat. And none of us four is an engineer, we can't exactly build our own ships." "We can steal a ship," Zigzag suggested. "But there's none to steal, that's the point!" Recoil slammed a fist into the table. It hardly wobbled...Recoil was known for his firepower, not his strength. "Ah, but there are ships, and we need not steal them," Cutter said, feeling the flood of relief as he got to the main point of his plan. "For the past several years since the Great Reformatting, long distance missions sent out by both Maximals and Predacons have been returning. The crews have largely chosen to be reformatted, largely because of social factors, but we shouldn't forget the fact that it's easier to draw energy from this environment if you're techno-organic. HOWEVER, the Maximals have chosen to leave the ships untouched, in case there is a future need. They may be isolationist and inward-looking, but they're not total fools." "So we *do* steal one!" Zigzag smirked. Cutter shook his head. "Just one wouldn't help anyway. And we don't need to steal one. No, I have a more long-term plan...we want to get exiled." "How, exactly, does that help us retake Cybertron?" Alabaster asked. "Not retake, but REMAKE. And 'us' will be far more than just we four...." * * * * What once had been Megatron's throne room was now a lushly forested glade with a "natural" amphitheater at its center. It was in this place that the minimal Maximal government met to address public concerns. And there had been much public concern over what Cutter and his three allies had spent the past ten years doing. The amphitheater was packed to capacity, both with "concerned citizens" and with Cutter's own Vehicons. Where once they'd had to hide their allegiance, now they walked openly, flaunting the Vehicon brand. Even some of the more organic Cybertronians had joined, hoping to find a way to purge themselves of this so-called "balance." "Cutter, the Council has asked you to come here to explain what you think you're doing," Cheetor declared. There was no throne, no high bench or other mark of authority. Just the fact that he and a few others were at the center of the amphitheater. And that, really, was enough. "It's about freedom," Cutter answered with confidence. His doubts had evaporated in the past decade. He knew what he was doing and why, and believed in it totally. "Freedom from individuality?" Cheetor asked, a harshly mocking edge to his tone. "Cheetor...members of the Council...people of Cybertron..." Cutter turned to face the audience, "the battle between Optimus Primal and Megatron was not fought over organics. That was merely the surface detail, a side issue. The true conflict was over whether there should be one mind on Cybertron or many. Megatron lost, Primal won. I do not propose we fight that war again, or even that I would necessarily be on Megatron's side if we did. But you MUST recognize the consequences of that victory and be prepared to accept them! We are free to choose our own lives, to take responsibility for our own actions. And that means all actions, not just those that fit into a view of harmony between technology and organic nature. We must be free to consider whether we want to live in a world of organics. Primal violated his own most sacred tenets when he reformatted Cybertron...Oracle or no, he forced a decision on all the people of this world, and it's time to set that right! We Vehicons stand not for Megatron's old vision of a unitary mind, we simply want the right to be who and what we are...mechanoids. Every day we are subtly pressured to 'fix' our 'incomplete Reformatting' and join the rest of the planet in 'balance.' It gets harder and harder to find compatible energy sources for those of us who have managed to retain a more mechanical nature. And we are not simply former drones wishing to have the world as we remember it...Autobots, Decepticons, Maximals and Predacons... members of all factions have come under our banner in this. Inorganic status is not a disease, it should not carry a stigma or be something we're forced to 'cure.' We will have our freedom!" Half the crowd roared. The rest, including the Council, sat in worried silence. * * * * "Y're makin' the wrong decision!" Rattrap insisted. "I know I wasn't too happy with my reformattin' at first, and Waspinator really got boned, even though he probably deserved it. These new Vehicons're just scared of what might happen t'them, ya don't hafta EXILE 'em for that!" Cheetor shook his head slowly and sadly. "Some of them may be afraid, but not all of them. And definitely not Cutter. He's agitating for political power, and the more concessions we make, the more he'll demand. I'm all for equal treatment, but he wants us to remake parts of Cybertron as purely metallic again, disrupt the balance of the entire world for the sake of a few who can't get along. But if we just get rid of Cutter, his followers will go berserk, it's happened before in history, both ours and that of Earth. I've read a lot about Earth since we unsealed the records the Elders had hidden from us and Megatron thought he'd destroyed...and Cutter reminds me of too many people from that world's history. A charismatic leader seeking 'freedom' for a separate group, followed by conquest and oppression of all those not in that group. We can't let that happen on Cybertron." "Fine. Can't we just put 'em on the moon or somethin'?" Rattrap begged. "No, if it's to be exile, it must be a complete exile, Cheetor's right," Botanica replied. "Wherever they go, they will eventually build a military power, even though we will give them only unarmed transports for leaving Cybertron. And we do not want them raising an army in our back yard." "Plus, if they're still in the area, what's to keep 'em from sneaking back and recruiting more?" Nightscream asked. "Exactly. For the sake of Cybertron, we must get rid of the Vehicons. But Cutter was right about freedom...so we're giving them the freedom to go make a life for themselves somewhere else, somewhere that they won't feel the pressures Cutter complained about. And somewhere they won't be a threat to everyone else." "Fine. I'll tell Cutter th' bad news," Rattrap sighed. * * * * "It was all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing at Rattrap," Cutter smiled. "I know he means well, but he acted like we were being put in some kind of internment camp...when we're *escaping* the camp! The plan has been an unqualified success, ladies and gentlemen!" The room full of Vehicons burst into applause. "For ten years, we have grown in strength, becoming a serious threat to politcial and social stability. The Maximals did not dare allow us to become strong enough to threaten war, yet their principles would not let them stamp us out. And so we get what we wanted...transport off this tainted orb and a chance to forge a new life for ourselves elsewhere! I wonder if they'll be shocked at our true numbers...they'll have to work overtime to strip the weaponry from battlecruisers so that we have enough ships to leave in a group. Of course, battlecruisers can be rearmed as easily as they can be disarmed," Cutter smirked. "We will now leave to create a new Cybertron, one that we can live on without the taint of organics. No longer are we Autobots, Decepticons, Maximals, Predacons...or even Vehicons. From this day forward, we are CYBERTRONS!" The roar of triumph from the crowd seemed to fill Cutter's world.... ============================================================================== Author's Notes: I've already written a story on the possibility that the Gaea of Beast Wars II was actually a post-Reformatting Cybertron. But, of course, where does that leave the Cybertrons of BWII? Well, obviously not everyone stayed on Cybertron after the Great Reformatting. I found the idea of Vehicons founding the Cybertron faction to be nicely ironic, so I ran with it. Obviously, there was a schism later with the Destrons splitting off, but that's a story for another time.... Cutter, Zigzag, Recoil and Alabaster are all kitbashes I've done, "Actionmaster Elites" made from Lanard's "S.T.A.R. Force" GIJoe-ish figures. They can be found at http://www.dvandom.com/kitbash/actionmasters.html .