Transformers: Rise of the Decepticon

"My Lord, I am ready to begin," Steeljaw said, raising his three-clawed hand toward Silas Trifang's neck.

Skygnaw caught his wrist. "Wait. What happens after the mind-wipe?"

"How can you be sure his memories will stay intact?"

"My Lord, it works like this," Steeljaw explained quickly. "Our memory files are stored in a separate, isolated crystal lattice. The mind-wipe module destroys conscious thought and higher reasoning, but it leaves the raw data intact."

An isolated memory crystal?

Skygnaw pondered the design. The internal layout sounded suspiciously similar to the memory core and information chips found inside Cybertronian processor modules.

He pushed the thought aside for the moment, letting Steeljaw continue.

As Steeljaw explained further, Skygnaw finally understood how the loyalty mechanism functioned.

The Sharkborn operated on a crude energy-signature imprint, binding their total obedience to whoever supplied their raw power source. It functioned much like a newborn bird imprinting on the first creature it sees, except the trigger relied entirely on energy consumption instead of vision.

Steeljaw had thrown away all caution, laying bare his race's deepest vulnerability. He knew Skygnaw could easily turn the exact same mechanism against him.

"Will this work?" Skygnaw pulled a glowing energon cube from his sub-space storage.

Steeljaw swallowed hard, his eyes glued to the glowing container. "Yes, My Lord! Absolutely!"

The Sharkborn had waged brutal wars across Planet Kugrage for one reason above all else: survival and fuel.

The pure energon liquid pulsing inside the translucent cube carried a density far beyond anything the Quintessons had ever thrown to them as scraps.

Skygnaw noted the raw greed in the creature's eyes, but he maintained a cold expression. "Proceed."

"Understood, My Lord."

Don't blame me for this, Chief... Steeljaw thought, driving his claw straight into the rear plate of Trifang's neck armor.

Once a line was crossed, there was no turning back.

The Decepticon guards pinned Trifang to the deck as he thrash violently, his organic face twisting in a mix of fury, fear, and humiliation.

Skygnaw watched the process with a strange sense of familiarity, though it took him a moment to place why.

It looked remarkably like livestock being prepped for slaughter. Swap Trifang's shark head for a hog, and the scene would fit right in on an Earth farm.

Steeljaw had never performed a manual override on a commander before. His hands shook nervously as he dug through the internal neck wiring, finally toggling the hidden chip.

Click.

Trifang collapsed onto the floor, his body growing completely still. According to Steeljaw, the internal systems were performing a hard reboot.

Skygnaw's eyes flashed red. "Steeljaw. Everyone else, step outside."

Information regarding the Quintessons was not something to be tossed around lightly. He had no intention of sparking unnecessary chaos or drawing their attention before he was ready.

As for the Decepticons who had overheard the name, he would deal with them personally later.

"Understood, Lord Skygnaw."

The Decepticons filed out without question, though Steeljaw paid close attention to how respectfully the massive warriors addressed their leader.

"Now... let's see what kind of creatures these Quintessons truly are," Skygnaw murmured.

Half an hour later, Skygnaw stepped out of the bridge. The energon cube in his hand was gone.

Through a thorough interrogation of the rebooted mind, he had extracted a comprehensive picture of the Quintessons and their planetary operations.

As a fleet commander, Trifang occupied a high tier within the Quintesson hierarchy.

Besides the Sharkborn, the Quintessons controlled two other primary combat races: the Alligatorborn, led by a four-faced commander named Quad-Gator, and the Lizardborn, led by a two-faced leader known as Dual-Lizard.

Learning this, Skygnaw had questioned Trifang repeatedly to confirm whether a single-faced variant existed, finding it almost absurd.

Lizards, alligators, sharks... Had he not known he was in the Transformers universe, he might have assumed he had stumbled into a den of ancient Earth monsters.

Whether driven by bizarre aesthetic tastes or a desire to ensure no creation looked better than themselves, the Quintessons had engineered all three races as half-organic, half-mechanical constructs.

Moreover, Trifang's knowledge of the Decepticon insignia came from a brief encounter centuries ago, when his fleet had hunted down a small Cybertronian scouting party deep in uncharted space.

According to Trifang, he and Quad-Gator commanded the heavy strike fleets that waged campaigns across outer systems. Dual-Lizard remained behind on Quintessa, commanding the elite palace guard that directly protected the ruling council.

Rank correlated directly with the number of faces: Quad-Gator held the highest authority among the commanders, followed by Trifang, with Dual-Lizard at the bottom.

Given the Quintessons' obsession with multi-faced structures, Skygnaw suspected they would have built ten-faced monsters if their engineering capabilities had allowed for it.

The actual Quintesson population was surprisingly small. Trifang had seen fewer than twenty distinct individuals throughout his entire service.

Beyond the standard roles of judges, executioners, and diplomats, the absolute core of their ruling council was occupied by a chief scientist known as Quintessous.

For a species obsessed with control and technological dominance, placing a top scientist at the pinnacle of power made complete sense.

Yet according to Trifang, Quintessous rarely managed daily fleet operations or appeared in public.

Instead, the scientist was stationed on an asteroid research complex far from Quintessa, leading a secret initiative focused on advanced space-time manipulation.

Skygnaw noted the home planet's name: Quintessa.

Quintessa... Is there a direct connection between the planet and the entity from the ancient records?

He recalled the enigmatic figure from Cybertron's lost history—Quintessa, the self-proclaimed creator of the Transformers.

Skygnaw rejected that claim instinctively.

Having studied the Covenant of Primus under Vector Sigma's influence, he considered himself a scholar of Cybertronian origins. Between his knowledge of history and his understanding of ancient records, he was confident no trickster could fool him.

In his view, the entity known as Quintessa was merely playing god, much like the Quintessons had done when they attempted to rewrite Cybertronian history after the Great Shutdown.

Still, the shared name suggested a deeper, underlying connection that bore further investigation.

Shaking off the complex train of thought, Skygnaw glanced down at Steeljaw, who was standing outside the ruined bridge hatch, barely daring to breathe.

Through the torn doorway, Steeljaw could see Trifang lying silent on the deck, his vital signs completely extinguished.

Steeljaw's optic sensors flickered. Though terrified, a wave of relief washed over him.

With Trifang dead, no one would ever learn of his betrayal. The legion chiefs back on the surface would have no reason to come after him—provided his new master kept his word.

"You performed well," Skygnaw said smoothly, stepping past him with a faint smile.

A useful idea was already taking shape in his mind.

Outside the bridge, only a handful of guards remained stationed along the corridors, while the rest of the boarding party had returned to the Nemesis under their squad leaders.

Though the boarding action had appeared chaotic, the Decepticons had operated with strict team coordination throughout the entire breach.

With his questions answered and the flagship neutralized, Skygnaw boarded the Nemesis and steered the massive warship back down into Planet Kugrage's atmosphere.

The captured Abyssal Lord remained locked firmly in the grip of the heavy tow claw, dragged through the sky alongside them.

Over Tas City, the eleven Sharkborn legion chiefs were waiting nervously for news from their leader when a familiar shadow stretched across the land.

Before they could feel any relief, their optics narrowed to tiny pinpricks.

Their flagship, the Abyssal Lord, was being dragged through the sky like a dead prize by the intruder warship.

The flagship had been taken.

Which meant Commander Trifang... They hardly dared to finish the thought.

The eleven chiefs suppressed their panic, trying to maintain composure as they stared up at the sky.

In contrast to their terror, General Silae stood at the highest balcony of the inner citadel, watching the purple-grey warship drag the enemy flagship across the clouds.

Realizing the Decepticons had won the duel, Silae turned to his lieutenant, his voice filled with renewed vigor.

"Issue the order! Have the mecha units and all four corps stand by for an immediate counteroffensive!"

He had lacked the courage to face the alien legions head-on, but he possessed more than enough resolve to hunt down a broken enemy.

"Right away, General!"

The lieutenant turned to leave, but Silae suddenly let out a startled gasp. "Look at the sky!"

The officer looked up just in time to see the lower ventral bays of the top warship slide open, dropping hundreds of dark, oval drop pods into the atmosphere.

At the exact same time, a captured Sharkborn troop transport approached from the opposite horizon—Blackarachnia had arrived.

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