Fantastic Four and the Transformers (CONT)

by Chris McFeely

CHAPTER ELEVEN

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FAVOURS OF THE GODS

The Fantastic Four tensed as Galactus shrunk back down to his normal size. The Autobots thought they could probably handle him now, considering his decrease in stature and the fact that he had obviously been seriously weakened by Unicron.

The giant clenched his teeth. “I... thank you, Reed Richards,” he almost spat. A mumble of surprise rippled through the crowd around him. “You have... once again... earned the gratitude of Galactus.”

“Exactly as I surmised,” Reed said. “Had we attacked Galactus with the Nullifier, the planet would have been at the mercy of Unicron, whom we would have had no chance of stopping, as he would have undoubtedly destroyed the Nullifier and the Matrix once he discovered our plan. But now Galactus, in the vernacular, ‘owes us one’ - and the word of Galactus is his bond.”

“What you say is true, Reed Richards,” Galactus admitted. “You need not make your request, for it is already known to me what you desire. Galactus shall leave this planet, never to return.”

Rodimus Prime relaxed incredibly, and let out a long, peaceful sigh.

“There is one matter that still remains, however,” Galactus pointed out, and Rodimus clenched. “The Nullifier.”

“You’re not serious...?!” Ultra Magnus exclaimed.

“Give it to him, Rodimus,” Reed urged, then repeated what he had said moments ago. “The word of Galactus is his bond.”

Rodimus stood up, and spread his arms. “Gladly,” he said. “But it’ll take time to remove...”

“Not so,” Galactus replied, and waved his gloved hand over Rodimus. When the Autobot leader looked down, the Nullifier was gone. Galactus held it in his hand.

“But your ship...,” the Invisible Woman said, suddenly realising that the destruction of Unicron had meant destroying Galactus’s way of leaving Cybertron.

Silently, Galactus raised his hands, and the Power Cosmic began to flow forth. The burnt-out shards of Unicron’s body were lifted by and unseen force, and slowly, slowly began to come together and merge into one. Reed watched, in awe, as the seemingly-useless lumps of metal were restored to the form of Galactus’s ship, Taa II.

“Farewell,” Galactus said, and disappeared in a flash of light, presumably having teleported inside his ship, which then rose into the dark sky, and soared away at a speed one would not have thought possible for its size.

For a moment, no-one spoke. Then Powerglide broke the silence. “That was kinda anti-climatic,” he said, sounding almost disappointed. Springer chuckled, and punched him on the arm in a friendly way.

“Don’t knock it, hotshot,” he said. “We’re alive, aren’t we?”

“Barely,” Slingshot moaned, still a little painful from Superion’s forced disengagement.

Reed spoke up. “I don’t mean to intrude,” he started, “but we have been absent from our world, and our duties to it, for some time.”

“Of course!” Rodimus replied, almost having forgotten the time-jumper in his subspace pocket. “You coming Magnus?”

Magnus held up his hands. “I’d love to - really, but, ah, no thanks,” he replied.

Rodimus rolled his eyes, as the Fantastic Four smiled. Rodimus pulled out the time-jumper, and pushed the button.

* * *

Rodimus bent down and shook the elasticated hand of Reed Richards once again. They now stood outside of Four Freedoms Plaza once more, and Rodimus could not thank them enough for their help.

“If not for you,” Rodimus said, struggling to find the right words, “Cybertron might no longer exist. I don’t have the words to express my gratitude to you.”

“Think nothing of it, my friend,” Reed answered, vigorously shaking the Autobot’s hand.

“Yeah,” came a familiar voice. “All in a day’s work for the Fantastic Four!”

Spider-Man swung down on a webline, and performed a dynamic aerial somersault, landing neatly on the wall of the Plaza, where he stayed.

“Hey Webs!” the Torch greeted, calling Spidey by the nickname he so often used.

“Hi, Hothead,” Spidey responded. “So how’d everything go? I trust Galactus didn’t get his fourth square meal - as per usual?”

“Dang right,” the Thing replied, lighting up a cigarillo.

“I must return to Cybertron,” Rodimus said, sounding almost sad. “My supervision will be required for the rebuilding that needs to be done.”

“Well,” Sue said, matter-of-factly, “at least you’re all still around to do the rebuilding.”

Rodimus weighed the comment up in his mind, and laughed. “Goodbye!” he said, reaching for the time-jumper.

“This may sound strange,” Reed said, just before he pushed the button, “but for all our sakes, I hope we never see you again!”

Rodimus paused, and then laughed. Spider-Man let out a half-hearted “Heh,” - he thought his jokes were funnier.

“The great Reed Richards,” Sue said, taking his hand in hers, “displaying a sense of humour?”

“I’m working on it,” Reed replied, smiling.

Rodimus was still laughing as he faded from sight.

EPILOGUE

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A FAIR TRIAL

The judge looked at the defendant before him, the armoured being who had failed to support his promises to the Quintessons. The many-tentacled prosecutor studied him also, then gestured to the baliffs nearby. They hoisted the defendant by his armpits, and marched him to a catwalk overhanging a pool in the centre of the court. The prosecutor spoke:

“Victor Von Doom, you have been charged with murder. The death of the all-powerful Unicron falls upon your head. You brought our master back to us, only to let him be taken from us once more. How do you plead?”

“This is preposterous!” Doctor Doom screeched. “None may treat Doom in this manner!”

“The case for the defence rests,” the prosecutor said.

“What!?” Doom bellowed.

The prosecutor turned away from the armoured dictator. “Has the imperial magistrate reached a verdict?”

“I have,” the judge replied.

“Guilty or innocent?” the prosecutor asked, wringing his tentacles in anticipation.

The judge’s multi-faceted head spun around one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, so another face looked upon Doom and the prosecutor. “We find the defendant...” it began, then the head spun again, ninety degrees in the opposite direction, and the third face spoke the verdict:

“...innocent.”

Doom relaxed inside his armour. Then, the prosecutor spoke. “The sentence is death. Feed him to the Sharkticons.”

Doom’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. As if to further the madness, dozens of red LED’s began blinking inside Doom’s armour. And then, suddenly, the catwalk gave way under his armoured feet, sending Doom hurtling down towards the pool. A horde of ferocious-looking mechanical shark-creatures came to the surface in greedy anticipation. Doom fell, grower nearer and nearer to the dank, murky water.

Closer.

Closer.

Doom smiled, and pressed a button beside one of the blinking lights. The yellow glowing plane appeared, hovering inches above the pool, right below Doom. His armour had certainly taken it’s time to recharge, he thought. And then, he struck the rectangle of energy, and was gone.

THE END