"Savages! Absolutely savage! Is this how you treat your guests? I'm filing a complaint with the Galactic Tribunal!"
Bruised and battered, Peter Quill, better known as Star-Lord, grumbled loudly as he was dragged across the floor by a visibly irritated Starscream. Given his current state, torn clothes and swollen face, it was obvious he'd just endured a brutal beatdown.
"Shut up, you miserable little thing! And for the record, there's no such thing as a 'Galactic Tribunal' in this quadrant, you're not fooling me."
Starscream jabbed him with a metallic finger, eliciting a sharp yelp from Quill.
There was a flicker in Starscream's optics as he scanned Quill again, something he'd been doing repeatedly. For some reason, this petty space thief's physiology was triggering his curiosity.
"A carbon-based lifeform, no doubt. DNA confirms Earth origin… but there's something deeply anomalous within you. Something… shielding you…"
Starscream tapped his cranial interface, rapidly sifting through his onboard databanks.
From a purely physical standpoint, Quill's latent potential placed him at a level comparable to a Skyfather-class being. That was more than interesting, it was potentially profitable.
What he thought would be a routine prisoner capture might turn out to be a jackpot. If he handed Quill over to Ratchet for dissection and analysis, the Energon Crystal payout could be substantial.
"Listen, buddy! You want to make money? Don't give me that look, I know your type. We're not so different. With my brains and your brawn, we could make a killing out here! Think about it, the galaxy's most dazzling duo of thieves!"
Quill kept talking, desperate to spin anything into a lifeline. Starscream, however, remained unimpressed.
"To me, currency is Energon. And Energon Crystals only come from Cybertron, the life source bestowed upon us by the Supreme Creator himself."
Starscream sneered coldly.
Quill's hope withered. He was starting to believe this time, he might not make it out alive.
"I should've listened to Yondu… That old bastard warned me not to take this gig… Hell, even chasing that Orb would've been safer. Stupid mystery god-types… totally set me up."
Quill cursed silently.
His original mission was straightforward: scout a newly-formed planet and relay the data back to his anonymous employers. In return? An absurdly generous payday.
Easy money… or so it seemed.
"I swear, those guys were gods in disguise. Even with all the cloaking, I could feel the divine energy coming off them…"
He muttered to himself.
Suddenly, Starscream's data-receiver system triggered an alert:
[WARNING: Unknown massive dark matter anomaly detected 30 light-years out. Object estimated to be planetary in scale. Classification: Class B Incident.]
This wasn't the kind of intel everyone had access to. Only Cybertronians of Level 3 or higher, or strategic command officers, were cleared for this kind of alert.
Starscream's optics narrowed.
"Vector Sigma, requesting full sensor analysis on anomaly."
[Beep—Command Access Confirmed. User: Starscream, Flight Squadron Commander. Data uplink authorized.]
The voice of Vector Sigma, emotionless and clinical, echoed through his systems. Within seconds, a stream of encrypted files and tactical analysis poured into Starscream's feed.
...
Object Designation: Unknown Celestial Body
Provisional Classification: Class B
Analysis Summary: Likely a mobile planet-scale battleship or a sentient cosmic entity.
Probability Estimate: 67% chance the target is a Celestial.
High Command Directive: Class B event confirmed. Skyfather-level threat. Entities below Tier 4 are advised not to engage.
...
Starscream sighed.
"Primus help me… Why is it always a Class B? Just once, I'd like a nice easy Class C. Or even a D…"
Class B incidents, Skyfather-level threats, were high-risk scenarios where the worst-case outcome could involve entire star systems being annihilated. Only top-tier warriors or entire legions were equipped to handle them.
Class C threats, sub-Skyfather level, might only destroy a planet. Manageable.
Class D? Routine. As a Level 3 combatant, Starscream could comfortably take part.
Then something on Quill spiked.
Starscream's optics flicked down. Quill's body was suddenly radiating faint, unstable energy readings.
"Huh? What now?"
Quill blinked up, hopeful. "Wait, you changed your mind? You wanna team up?"
SMASH!
Starscream knocked him out cold with a single punch.
"This guy… how the hell is he connected to a Class B anomaly?"
Starscream's processor whirred with suspicion.
Just then, a streak of cobalt-blue light tore through the atmosphere.
It was Optimus Prime, his silhouette unmistakable, sword sheathed across his back.
He was moving out.
Starscream scowled. That sword was said to be crafted from divine-grade alloys, brushing against single-universe tier. It gave Optimus the rare authority to respond to incidents like this solo.
"Lucky bastard…" Starscream muttered bitterly.
Optimus Prime rocketed into space like a comet, breaching the upper atmosphere in seconds.
"Optimus Prime," Vector Sigma began, its monotone voice cutting through the void. "All databanks confirm: target identity aligns with known Celestial designated Ego. Capabilities include planetary-scale consciousness, matter manipulation, and gravitational devouring."
Optimus said nothing.
His piercing blue optics glowed with calm, implacable resolve. A Celestial posed no more threat to him than a sudden storm to a mountain.
He reached behind him, drew his sword, and raised it high.
WHOOSH!
A rainbow-hued beam of light burst from the heavens.
The Bifrost.
The Asgardian Rainbow Bridge, the pinnacle of trans-spatial arcane technology. Now fully integrated into Prime's arsenal. So long as he held that sword, he could traverse to any sector of the cosmos in an instant.
Within moments, he materialized before the drifting planetary mass.
"Hm?"
The surface of the planetoid rippled, a giant face emerged, looking momentarily stunned.
"The Bifrost… I didn't expect that. So, the fabled Asgardian magic has fallen into your mechanical hands."
Optimus leveled his gaze.
"You've crossed into Cybertronian jurisdiction. Whether you're a Celestial or not, this counts as an act of war. There will be consequences."
The planetary face narrowed its expression, lips curling into a bizarre, serene smile.
"You recognize me… Then perhaps Martin's creations weren't entirely useless. I assumed only Martin and Surtur birthed warriors of merit. I see now… I was wrong."
Ego, the Living Planet, did not seem hostile, yet.
But Prime did not wait.
"If you want to know our strength… experience it for yourself."
Optimus raised his sword, energy thrumming through its edge.
Then, without hesitation, he struck.
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