#issue 48

Our issue opens up in Rung’s office, where he’s having Skids talk through his memories. I should have known he’d bother doing his job for one of the hottest guys on the ship.

Skids, shortly after the nightmare hellscape that was the Simanzi Massacre, was employed as a bomb negotiator. Now, you may say, that doesn’t sound like quite the right pairing of words to use, but you have to understand that Cybertronians are robots, and also never had a Geneva Convention to work out what was and wasn’t a war crime, so they sort of just did whatever back in the day.

I bet whoever figured this shit out got a huge pay bump, and then was shot in the street for being an absolute monster.

The anti-personal mines were a head and other vital robo-organs locked in the galaxy’s worst pressure cooker, set to blow if the still-living robot got too stressed out. Skids’s job was talking these guys down so he could turn their brains off and disarm everything. Because Skids, as we know, is very good at talking people down.

Just an absolute ace at deescalation, this guy. Certainly doesn’t suffer from snark poisoning.

The flashback takes place during Skids’s religious phase, which also doesn’t help matters; he goes and drags the mercy of Primus into it, and when you’re a head in an IED, you’re not exactly feeling like god loves you all that much.

Our dear bomb boy explodes, sending Skids soaring straight into the custody of a Decepticon Hygiene Team, who drag him and a few other Autobots away in chains to the unhappiest place in the galaxy (that doesn’t contain Overlord).

Skids in the present takes a moment to collect himself, as these memories are related to the ones that Chromedome had refused to uncover for him with mnemosurgery way back in issue #8.  When we get back into it, we see a friend that we haven’t visited in quite a while.

Maybe Mr. Flywheels Scavengers deserved to get super-blendered after all.

Flywheels is in charge of gluing inhibitor spikes to the roofs of all the prisoners’ mouths. If someone with one of these spikes attempts to transform, the spike deploys, turning their brain module into a donut.

“But what if someone doesn’t have a mouth?”, asks James Roberts’s canonized self-insert character Rev-Tone. Well, not to worry, you fucking moron, because you’re at Grindcore, the home of pain and suffering!

That’s a series wrap on Rev-Tone, folks! Let’s give him a hand!

Skids is assigned to room with another prisoner, though his name won’t be found out til it’s more devastating for the readers, as present-day Skids is starting to run out of steam with remembering the worst days of his life.

We cut back to modern day, where Skids and Rung have finished building one of Rung’s model ships— likely a tactile distraction while Skids was recounting what he could remember. Skids laments not being able to pull the ripcord on all this and just have it needled out, but Rung reminds him that Chromedome didn’t want to re-traumatize him with just slapping everything on the brain-table.

We then learn a little bit about Rung, as it’s revealed that he only purchases models of ships he’s been assigned to, and that he was scheduled to be on the fateful Ark-1 trip, before the Senate yanked him back planet side. He’s also a bit of a loser, his own theories on psychology being overshadowed by Froid’s. Must really hurt, being outshone by the guy with the ballgag mouth.

Rung asks Skids how he wants the thumb-recording of today’s session sent to him, and Skids says he wants it emailed directly into his brain, because you can do that shit when you’re a robot. They schedule their next appointment, Rung is revealed to have his entire ass out, and Riptide lets him know that he’s got a guest.

I’m sure that dramatic shadow over his face isn’t anything to worry about.

There’s a stunned silence, an awkward introduction, Froid confirms that he has not, in fact, been dead this entire time, and then he gives Rung the most horrifying hug in the universe with his terrible gibbon arms. Skids takes this as his cue to dip, remarking on Froid’s “primal beads”, some sort of religious paraphernalia on-par with the matrix tattoo he had on his cheek all those years ago.

Over in the medibay, we come to find that Cyclonus isn’t actually dead, because he was protected by the power of love, and also being the toughest motherfucker to ever exist in an undead capacity. Nobody’s super sure what the hell happened to Tailgate, but he’s still out cold.

The ship co-captains show up, Megatron being very, very defensive about how much he totally wouldn’t have hurt Tailgate, despite having been fully ready to crush his little head like an egg just a few hours ago. Cyclonus says that he should be the one to apologize, though his stance makes it look like he’s one misplaced glance away from throwing another television into Megatron’s teeth.

Thankfully, it looks like everyone’s up to speed on what a shitlord Getaway is, as Rodimus had Chromedome poke Tailgate in the brain while he was unconscious to figure out what the fuck happened.

Rodimus, shit like this is why 89 members of your crew voted “no confidence”.

Cyclonus, ever a romantic, is taken with the idea of someone setting up a fireworks show just for him surviving a hail of gunfire. Velocity bursts his bubble, however, as the light show is actually for Thunderclash, who was re-awoken by whatever that weird rainbow explosion was.

Back over in Rung’s office, Rung is waiting for an explanation as to why Froid has the audacity to be alive right now. Froid hasn’t been seen since the “Tetrahex Ripper” was caught, when he joined the prison ship taking him— Sunder— and his brother Septre to Garrus 6 for their crimes.

No word on if it’s any better than Garrus 9.

Froid became obsessed with Sunder, which worked out about as well as anyone could expect, when he was taken hostage by the brothers after they escaped their cells. There were some causalities, including Septre, but Froid managed to escape to the mechanical planet of Scarvix, where he continued his work as a psychiatrist. Rung has been cleaning his glasses this whole time, probably so he doesn’t have to look at Froid’s awful, awful body.

Froid starts fiddling around with Rung’s models, and Rung finally asks why the fuck Froid is here, considering Rung was under the impression he was dead until about five minutes ago. Froid drops the buddy-buddy act, asking for Rung’s patient notes. Rung refuses. He asks again, stating the importance of having them, though he doesn’t clarify why. Rung refuses again. Froid alludes to letting a very big secret of Rung’s slip if he doesn’t get what he’s oh so politely asking for, grabbing Rung’s arm to make his point extra clear.

Over in the oil reservoir of contemplation, Skids is having a think, trying to remember more of his worst memories. Like how he used to room with Quark.

Quark, as thanks for having removed the death spike from his throat, gives Skids a piece of advice to help him survive Grindcore: don’t do anything to stand out. Of course, this is Skids we’re talking about, who is both supremely talented and in-canon hot, so that might be a bit of an ask. Quark then comments on the lack of a soundtrack these days, which gives someone outside the cell a perfect entry into the conversation. This is someone Skids recognizes in the past, but present-day Skids just can’t get any further with the memory.

Back at the Psych Rumble Power Hour, Rung is holding firm to his morals, once again refusing Froid’s request. Froid folds, saying that he’ll just take his sorry ass back home then. Rung goes to see him off, and finds that Froid’s ship is being guarded. Rung questions why Magnus would have folks stationed at the shuttle bay, since they typically don’t do that. Other than the fact that Tailgate and Cyclonus violently assaulted a superior officer and then bolted, it would appear that Froid is also being a naughty little bastard.

Rung put some goddamned pants on, you’re ruining the dramatic reveal!

It turns out that Froid and Sunder have been living together since their escape, and Froid’s taken quite the liking to Sunder, completely hand-waving his obsession with Cybertron’s god of death, and the concept of sin, and his history of being a serial killer. Rung is horrified by this, stating that Froid’s become codependent and is way too close to Sunder to be doing his job correctly.

Of course, Froid throws that right back in his face, because, as we’re all quite familiar with by this point, Rung is super buddy-buddy with everyone on the ship, especially the hot guy who’s one of his most involved patients. That’s when we get the real kicker— Rung’s secret, that Froid’s been helping keep all these years? Rung’s been delicensed since well before the end of the war.

I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again: nobody on the Lost Light can do their goddamned job.

That begs the question of how Rung could have gotten away with such a thing, given that half the ship’s crew is cops, with Ultra Magnus having once held the title of King Big Dick of Policeland. It turns out that the ship Rung was serving on at the time, the Fateful Archetype, had been shot down shortly after his hearing, with him being the only survivor, and all the paperwork burning up in the crash. Awfully convenient, that. Considering how scary Rung has proven to be in the past, I’m not completely sure he didn’t set some shit up, but anyway! It’s time to meet Sunder.

Well, hello to you too, sunshine!

Sunder’s lack of eyeballs does serve a purpose beyond shock value; in order to have a modicum of control over his buff as hell serial killer boyfriend, Froid’s convinced Sunder that he needs to be able to see his victims in order to remotely mnemosurgery them. Because that’s a thing he can do. He also says that traumatic memories are delicious. Because that’s a thing he does, eating memories. With his remote mnemosurgery skills.

James, what the fuck.

Anyway, this is why Froid wanted Rung’s patient files; he was gonna find the guys who were repressing memories and feed them to Sunder.

Then Skids shows up and shoots Froid with a grappling hook.

Rung tells Skids to run, but it’s too late, because Froid just broke his primal beads and is bowling them at Sunder as he yells for his fucked up boytoy to hit the deck. And boy howdy, does he get a strike. Let’s see what Sunder’s all about.

Okay Mr. Tumblr Poetry, let’s calm down now.

Sunder, now knowing that Rung’s the guy in charge of the ship’s mental health, give him the evil eye and riffles through his brain like a phonebook, picking out all the tastiest treats, which makes Rung’s glasses explode for dramatic effect.

Then why the FUCK did you take him to the Lost Light, you malpracticing buffoon? This ship’s basically a twinkie with a trauma cream filling!

Sunder, of course, notices that Skids and his delicious brain are right there, so he goes for that first, dragging us back to where we left off in the flashback, where a level 5 theatre kid moment is happening.