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Chapter Seven: Worlds Collide Part Three

In the lab, Bishop raised his weapon, the blade circling towards Mikey, moving closer to slicing his head open by the second as the others looked on in horror.

“Anyone moves, and Michelangelo is finished,” declared Bishop in a cold dangerous voice as he aimed the weapon barely an inch away from Mikey’s head. “His life is at stake and you should have all learned by now that I always do what I say.”

“And you should have learned by now to never turn your back on me,” said Mikey a second before he kicked an unsuspecting Agent Bishop in the stomach.

Bishop staggered back a step which gave Mikey enough time to free himself and leap at Bishop, nunchucks spinning but Bishop ducked down underneath Mikey’s attack, causing Mikey to splatter on the floor like an insect hitting the windshield of a car.

Bishop looked up at the group closing in on him with a calculating glance before recklessly tossing his miniature buzz saw at them. Thinking quickly, Leo pulled out his swords and swiftly deflected the object back towards the sinister government agent. Bishop ducked down, causing the object to be planted into the wall.

Harry raised his crowbar, charging Bishop with the intent to cave the man’s skull in but Bishop ducked underneath Harry’s charge before kicking Harry right in the back. Leo and Don charged in, swinging their weapons towards Bishop but Bishop grabbed Don’s Bo Staff and one of Leo’s katanas in his hand before forcing them down onto the ground. Leo attempted to stab Bishop in the leg with his free katana but Bishop kicked the katana, causing it to sail upwards, before sticking in the ceiling above. Bishop swung his leg at Leo and Don, causing them to sail back.

Hailey rushed Bishop, attempting to take his head off with the pipe but Bishop ducked underneath her charge, while adjusting his tie and then kicking an attacking Raph right in the stomach, before springing up and kicking Hailey full force in the face with the face with both feet, causing the girl to fly back. Hailey sat back with a pained expression, a bloody lip from Bishop’s assault as well.

Ginny rushed Bishop but Bishop grabbed both of Ginny’s wrists with one hand. As Ginny struggled, Bishop grabbed a stun gun from a shelf behind his back before sticking it right in Ginny’s back. A sizzling sound was heard as Ginny fell to her knees, temporarily incapacitated.

Harry leapt back up, swinging the crowbar but Bishop managed to leap out of the way from the shock and pick up the lead pipe. Bishop beckoned Harry to go forward and Harry swung the crowbar, clanging against the pipe and causing Bishop to step back, right into the arms of Leatherhead.

The croc squeezed Agent Bishop with his arms, attempting to crush the government agent to death.

“Let me go,” winced Bishop as he felt the air leaving his lungs before managing to get his feet planted firmly underneath one of dissection tables before flipping the table up and smacking Leatherhead right in the face with it. The croc gave a pained expression as Bishop sprang up in a flash, pulling Leo’s sword out of the ceiling and leaping down but Master Splinter blocked Bishop’s attack with his walking stick.

Bishop backed off and Master Splinter clanged the walking stick towards the sword a couple of times, before causing the sword to fly out of Bishop’s hand. Bishop swung at Splinter, punching the rat in the chest and stunning him enough before leaping up behind the group and adjusting his sunglasses which had been knocked slightly out of place during the fight before Don and Raph charged him. Bishop dodged out of the way, causing the two Turtles to stagger before Bishop sprang up and kicked them in the back, knocking them flat on their faces

“Whoa, Bishop seems to have a little bit of quickness in him,” said Mikey who was beginning to pull himself up after being splattered on the floor when Bishop ducked.

“You all obviously have no idea what you are up against,” said Bishop coolly.

Harry, Ginny, Hailey, Mikey, and Leo rushed forward, managing to knock Bishop back from their combined attacks but Bishop only was stunned for a mere second before Leatherhead, Don, Raph, and Splinter joined in backing Bishop off.

“I’d suggest you give up, you are out numbered,” said Splinter sternly.

“Perhaps, but never outclassed” said Bishop coolly before leaping up and over his attackers before picking up a tray with four vials of mutated cell samples and the orb that housed the replicated magical energy and making his way to the nearest exist. “Until we meet again and we will, you can count on it.”

Bishop slipped out the door rather quickly. Raph and Harry made a movement as if they wanted to go after Bishop, with Harry being ready to decapitate Bishop for attacking both his sister and girlfriend not to mention the horrible agony that Harry was put through due to Bishop’s cruel and inhumane experiment, but Leo raised his hand.

“Let him go, we don’t have time to follow him when the Fugitoid needs to be found,” said Leo calmly even through Harry still had to be held back by Ginny to prevent him from murdering Bishop.

In the Triceraton Homeworld, Zanramon sat watching the battle between the Triceratons and the Federations. They were just only a short distance away from damaging his precious Triceraton Homeworld.

“Mozar, tell me one thing,” said Zanramon as Commander Mozar turned his attention to the Prime Leader. “Why exactly haven’t you brought me the Fugitoid as of yet?”

“Prime Leader, there is a war going on around us…” started Mozar in a forced calm voice but Zanramon rose to his feet angrily.

“I don’t want any excuses, Mozar, I want the Fugitoid and I want him now!” ordered Zanramon. “Get that robot from the Federation or you will find yourself dishonored before a Triceraton firing squad.”

Mozar growled in irritation. His patience with the Prime Leader was wearing extremely thin right at this moment, as the monarch kept demanding results despite Mozar attempting to figure out a way to defeat the Federation who at this moment had outnumbered them by a margin of nearly three to one.

In the Federation base on Earth, the Fugitoid was laid on a table, wires hooked to every part of his body as a robot technician began to press in a series of commands to prepare the computers in the facility to scan the Fugitoid. General Blanque paced back and forth, with a malicious look set upon his face.

“Well, Professor, it’s the end of the line for you,” said Blanque sadistically. “You tried to run from me but it eventually caught up with you in the end. The Teleportal Plans will be mine and with it, the complete and utter destruction of the hated Triceraton Republic. But that is not the end of this. Not only will I completely wipe out the Triceratons with your Teleportal Device but there is nothing that can stop the Federation from conquering half of the known galaxies.”

Blanque looked at the Fugitoid, with a malicious power hungry glint dancing in his eyes before bending down so the Fugitoid and General Blanque were nearly face to face.

“Just to think, Professor Honeycutt, it was all because of your invention,” said Blanque. “The complete and utter dominance of the Federation will be at hand after I personally break you down and pull the Teleportal Plans from you before frying all of your circuits to make you don’t ever meddle with the plans of the Federation ever again.”

“No!” screamed the Fugitoid in horror. “Please!”

“Yes,” said Blanque sadistically who felt some kind of sadistic pleasure in seeing the Fugitoid squirming in horror.

The robot technician finished his work as an image of the blueprint of the Fugitoid’s robotic body appeared on the screen.

“I’m in, sir,” said the robot technician. “And I am now lowering our firewalls so we can get full access to the Fugitoid’s main frame.”

“Perfect, in a matter of moments those Teleportal plans will be ours,” said Blanque. “Once we have the Teleportal plans, begin making plans to transport explosives right into the center of the Triceraton Homeworld so we can annihilate the Triceratons once and for all.”

“Absolutely,” said the robot technician as he continued to scan the Fugitoid but after the scan was complete, he had run into an unfortunate problem. “Uh, General, there seems to be a bit of a problem.”

“What is it?” asked Blanque coldly.

“The Teleportal Plans, well, they are not here,” said the robot technician nervously.

“I erased them,” said the Fugitoid in a calm voice.

“What?” thundered Blanque in a voice of disbelief.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me, so I had to allow to gain full access to my main frame so you can realize that they are completely gone,” said the Fugitoid. “And while your defenses are lowered…”

The Fugitoid began glowing before shooting a bolt of electricity through the wires connecting him to the computers. Blanque looked horrified and rushed forward, attempting to disconnect the Fugitoid but the Fugitoid gave Blanque a horrific electrical shock, causing the Federation General to fly back.

“Sorry, General, but I can’t allow you to disconnect me from the computers, not until my business is complete,” said the Fugitoid as he sat up. “As you should know, I helped designed the majority of the Federation’s computer system and I know exactly how they work. So I tapped into the system. As a matter of fact, I am the system.”

“Shut the computers down,” said General Blanque in a horrified voice.

“I’m afraid, he’s locked us out, sir,” said the robot technician who found he couldn’t shut off the computers with the Fugitoid jamming the system.

The Fugitoid quickly managed to broadcast himself into every television and computer on Earth, the Federation fleet, and on the Triceraton Homeworld.

“Citizens of the planet Earth and to those who are battling above, I have an important message that you all should here,” said the Fugitoid.

In the Triceraton Homeworld, a group of Triceratons looked as the Fugitoid’s face appeared on their computers. Commander Mozar walked up behind them snarling.

“Commander, The Fugitoid is on all frequencies,” said one of the Triceratons.

“Scan him you fool,” growled Mozar. “We must have those Teleportal plans.”

“At once Commander Mozar,” said the Triceraton who began to input the commands to scan the Fugitoid.

“Some time ago, I developed a machine, known as the Teleportal. A device that was to be used for instant teleportation from one point to another,” narrated the Fugitoid. “This device was to be used as a tool to promote peace but sadly, it had become the prize of a never ending and quite barbaric war between two rival races, the Triceratons and the Federation.”

In a military base just outside the city, Agent Bishop arrived with the mutated cell samples and the orb of replicated magical energy. He looked as his subordinates looked rather transfixed with the Fugitoid jamming their computer signals.

“Sir, maybe you should take a look at this,” said one of Bishop’s subordinates.

“It’s that tin toy that the Federation was after,” said Bishop in an unimpressed voice before gently placing the mutated cell samples and the magical orb on a table. “Reboot and purge the Fugitoid’s signal from our systems. Begin analyzing these mutated cell samples and this orb of replicated magical energy but I’d advise extreme caution when handling the orb. It has enough unstable energy to vaporize over half of this country if it explodes.”

“Of course, Agent Bishop,” said the subordinate.

“The Turtles and Harry Potter are going to assist me with my research, willing or not,” said Bishop coldly.

The Turtles, Master Splinter, Leatherhead, Hailey, Ginny, and Harry walked through the hallways, taking note of the Fugitoid’s sudden appearance on every monitor in the building.

“Okay, the Fugitoid is definitely close but this place has so many rooms that it might be hours before we find him,” said Hailey.

“If there is only some way we can track him,” said Harry thoughtfully.

“Maybe we can,” said Don, walking over to a computer, before typing in a series of commands. A blip appeared on the screen and Don quickly analyzed the situation. “There, Professor Honeycutt is in a laboratory, about two corridors from here, third door to the right.”

In a flash, the group rushed up the hallway, to find the Fugitoid, they did not have a moment to waste.

“So, the only conclusion I could come to save the universe from what could be used as a weapon of mass destruction, is to erase the plans from the Teleportal from my robotic brain,” said the Fugitoid. “There is no way that the Teleportal plans can be recovered as they are completely and one hundred percent gone.”

On the Triceraton Homeworld, they finished their scan of the Fugitoid.

“Commander Mozar, the Teleportal plans are missing from the Fugitoid,” said one of the Triceratons.

“Then perhaps the robot was in fact telling the truth,” said Commander Mozar.

“No, the plans have to be there, they just have to be,” said Prime Leader Zanramon in an agitated voice. “This is some kind of Federation trick, a trick to make us stop going after the Fugitoid so they could acquire the Teleportal plans for themselves. Well, I for one am not buying it. We are going to continue to search for the Fugitoid and get the Teleportal for the glory of the Triceraton republic.”

“That might be a bit of a problem Prime Leader,” growled Mozar.

“And just why would that be Commander Mozar?” asked Zanramon in a dangerous voice.

Zanramon’s question was answered by a fleet of Federation ships flying up to the Homeworld, blasting at it with laser fire, attempting to severely damage the Homeworld.

“Reboot the system,” growled Mozar. “And go to full scale assault. Put all defenses on line.”

In the lab, the Fugitoid looked at Blanque.

“And now, so you don’t go home empty handed due to the Teleportal being erased from my memory, I leave you one final gift,” said the Fugitoid. “Let peace be with you.”

The Fugitoid began to glow a shade of red before shooting a bolt of light straight up into the wires.

“Sir, he has uploaded a virus,” said the robot technician. “And we are completely locked out, unable to shut down the system.”

“Quick, do something before it spreads to the Fleet,” said General Blanque in an anxious voice before several of the computers around him began exploding due to the Fugitoid’s super virus.

“I’m trying General but he’s taken complete control of every aspect of our computer system,” said the robot technician.

In the hallway outside, the Turtles, Master Splinter, Leatherhead, Hailey, Ginny, and Harry looked up in surprise as all of the computers in the hallway became infected with the virus.

“Now what?” asked Raph before the computers began blowing up one by one, causing everyone to hit the ground for cover to avoid being injured by the wreckage of the computers exploding into pieces.

“Okay, I’ve seen enough Bond movies to know when the enemy base starts blowing up, it’s time to go,” said Mikey in an anxious voice.

“But we can’t go with the Fugitoid,” said Don in a persistent voice.

“Yes but with the computers blowing up every…” started Hailey before the hallways went pitch black around them, the power being shut off.

“Well that’s nice, as nothing can blow up with the power being off,” said Harry.

“This way,” said Master Splinter. “If I’m not mistaken, Professor Honeycutt is only being kept a short distance away.”

Back in the lab, the robot technician and General Blanque stood in the dark.

“Well, did you stop it?” asked Blanque.

“No, but I was able to shut off the power before it could spread to the fleet,” said the robot technician.

“Good,” said Blanque.

“Then it was all for nothing,” said the Fugitoid. “My virus, my plans to stop this senseless war between the Federation and the Triceratons all vanished into thin air, as quickly as they appeared.”

Outside of the lab, the group stood, looking at the entrance, which appeared to be locked shut rather tightly, with all kinds of security precautions.

“So, exactly how do we get inside?” asked Ginny, who doubted that an unlocking spell could breach this security.

“Allow me,” said Leatherhead who stepped before raising his arms and smashing the door open with his hand, causing it to fly forwards.

“Noisy, but extremely effective,” commented Mikey as the Turtles, Leatherhead, Master Splinter, Hailey, Ginny, and Harry.

“Show’s over Blanque,” said Harry. “Now release the Fugitoid or…”

“Get them,” said Blanque as a small group of Federation soldiers rushed into battle, pointing their blasters at their opposition with laser blasters. The Turtles, Ginny, Harry, Splinter, Hailey, and Leatherhead rushed their attackers, avoiding the laser blasters.

“Donatello, help me,” said the Fugitoid in an agonized voice.

“Cover me guys,” said Don who used his Bo Staff to spring up, kicking two of the Federation soldiers in the chest. Harry leapt up, kicking the blaster out of one of hand of one of the attackers before flipping him over on his back.

Master Splinter raised his walking stick, smashing a Federation solider in the gut before leaping up and jabbing another one in the stomach before kicking him back. Splinter leapt up again, smashing the walking stick over the head of a third Federation attacker.

Don moved to the side of the Fugitoid, as Leo rushed behind him, slicing the laser blaster of a Federation troop who looked ready to blast Don’s head off of his shoulders. Don grabbed onto the wires hooked into the Fugitoid, preparing to free him.

“Donatello, don’t worry about me, turn the power back on so I can finish uploading my virus,” said the Fugitoid in a definite voice.

“No, Professor, it’s too risky, you could be destroyed…” said Don.

“I’m well aware of that possibility but it is the only way,” said the Fugitoid. “If something is not done, countless thousands more will suffer at the hands of the Federation and the Triceratons.”

“All right, Professor but I have a feeling I may regret this,” said Don as he sprang up, kicking a Federation solider out of the way before beginning to turn the computer back on.

“Stop him, he is trying to turn the power back on, so that rogue robot can continue to upload his virus,” said Blanque to his troops.

The Federation troops rushed forward, but Leatherhead whipped his tail, knocking two of them back. Mikey sprang up, spinning his nunchucks and cracking a pair of troops in the chops. Splinter elevated himself in the air, before bringing his walking stick into the knees of his Federation attacker.

Meanwhile, Don had just finished turning the power back on.

“Okay, Professor, it’s back on,” said Don.

The Fugitoid continued the process of uploading his virus, much to the horror of one General Blanque. The horror intensified when Blanque came to the realization that the Federation troops that had had on Earth had been taken out, leaving no one to protect him from his enemies.

The Fugitoid continued causing the computers to explode, before summoning a huge blast of energy and blasting his virus up from a satellite to space, right towards the Federation fleet.

Above the earth, the Federation continued their attack on the Triceraton Homeworld and they had severely damaged two of the Tri-Bases high above the earth as they prepared to deliver the final crushing blow to the mother ship.

The Fugitoid’s virus shot up from the Earth, integrating with the Federation ships before they began to glow a deep shade of red. The navigators on the ship looked horrified as the steering of the ships began to be taken out of their hands. All of the Federation ships began to crash into each other, their attacks against the Triceraton Homeworld now completely paralyzed.

Commander Mozar stood upon the ship, awaiting an update from the scout ship he had sent out to observe the Federation attack.

“Commander Mozar, an interesting turn of events has transpired,” said the scout pilot. “The Federation ships have been rendered motionless and are unable to keep up with their current plan of attack.”

“Excellent,” said Zanramon who had overheard the report. “This is most fortunate. Mozar, order all available ships to commence with a full scale assault to annihilate the Federation at their weakest. Leave no survivors.”

“No, Prime Leader, I’m afraid I cannot carry out that command,” said Mozar.

“What?” growled Zanramon in disbelief. “And why shouldn’t you?”

“It is dishonorable to attack a defenseless enemy, Prime Leader,” said Mozar in a voice that showed slight disgust at what Mozar was suggesting.

“Commander Mozar, this is not about honor, this is about our utter and absolute victory over our most hated enemy,” said Zanramon before walking over and pressing a button on the intercom system. “Now order your troops to blast them or else.”

Before Mozar could carry out Zanramon’s order. The scout pilot came back with a very urgent message.

“Commander Mozar, urgent message, I’ve been infected with a virus of some sort, it’s taking over my ship,” said the Triceraton scout in a horrified voice.

“Well, disconnect that scout reader from our communications network before the virus spreads further,” said Zanramon coldly.

“Prime Leader, I hardly think that it’s ethical to leave him stranded and without support…” said Mozar.

“Do it!” growled Zanramon. “Or you will be executed in the slowest and most painful manner that I can think of.”

Mozar walked over, raising his finger reluctantly before pushing a button that disconnected that scout ship’s communication link from the rest of the ships.

“It is done, Prime Leader and from all indications, it appears that the virus has not been spread to any other ships or the Homeworld itself,” said Mozar.

“Excellent,” said Zanramon. “Now, we can focus on finishing the Federation once and for all. Mozar, order your troops to open fire.”

“Zanramon, the Triceratons will not be carrying out that order or any other sadistic order you may have thought out,” said a voice. Zanramon turned around to see Traximus and his rebel army walking into the throne room.

“Traximus, how did you traitors get in here?” asked Zanramon in astonishment.

“We walked,” said Traximus simply. “We have come to administer justice to all the cruel acts you have done as part of your reign as Prime Leader. Your regime is at an end.”

“Never,” growled Zanramon. “Mozar, order your troops to open fire on these traitors.”

Mozar remained immobile, choosing to not following Zanramon’s order.

“Mozar, what are you waiting for, blast them into dust,” said Zanramon in a voice that was getting rather anxious.

“Throw down your weapons,” ordered Mozar as he turned to his troops. They tossed their weapons to the ground while shooting Zanramon a look of disgust. “It’s over.”

“Mozar what are you doing?” asked Zanramon. “This is revolution.”

“Revolution is normally what happens when a change is needed,” said Traximus as he picked up Zanramon before tossing him to the ground, where the rebel army closed in on Zanramon, pointing their weapons at the now, ex-Prime Leader of the Triceraton Republic.

Back on Earth, the Turtles, Leatherhead, Master Splinter, Hailey, Ginny, and Harry closed in on General Blanque, who began to back off with a completely horrified look on his face.

“My troops will be here at any moment, you’ll all be destroyed,” said Blanque in terror but Raph grabbed Blanque by the throat before slamming him down on the ground, pinning him down so he could escape.

“Not today Blanque, not any day,” said Raph coldly as the Federation General struggled against the grip of Raph.

The Fugitoid’s glow around his body slowly disappeared. Don walked over, turning his attention to the Fugitoid.

“Congratulations Professor, your virus has run its course,” said Don. “It looks like you did what you wanted to accomplish.

“Greetings, I am Sal, class G servitoid robot, how can I be of service, how can I be of service, how can I be of ser-vice,” said the Fugitoid in a monotone voice before he fizzled to a complete shut down, his circuits fried beyond repair. The virus may have worked but it had also met the death of Professor Honeycutt.

“No!” yelled Don in horror. “It can’t be. He’s gone. I knew his robot body couldn’t stand the strain of maintaining the virus and yet…”

“He knew of the risks, Don,” said Harry in a quiet voice. “Yet, he did it anyway. He may have saved the universe from being torn apart by the Triceratons and the Federation.”

“I know,” said Don in a shaky voice.

The scene within the lab became quiet as the robotic shell that once housed the mind of Professor Honeycutt laid motionless, with the circuits fried beyond repair. Professor Honeycutt’s noble act to stop the war between the Federation and the Triceratons had come with the unfortunate price that had lead to his untimely death.

A few hours later, on the Triceraton Homeworld, the Turtles, Leatherhead, Master Splinter, Hailey, Ginny, and Harry walked into the throne room of the former Prime Leader Zanramon with Traximus and Commander Mozar leading the way. Mozar handed Traximus a large Triceraton blaster. Traximus turned towards the throne, pointing the blaster.

“Let this be a symbol of things to come,” said Traximus before aiming the blaster towards the throne and firing, blowing the Prime Leader throne to dust with a series of heavy blasts. “That none shall sit upon the throne of the Triceratons. The Senate will be reinstated and the Republic shall be reborn.”

“Traximus, the recovery efforts have been complete and all Federation troops are safe and accounted for,” said Mozar.

“Very well, we will treat them as our guests, until we can return them safely to the Federation has our first gesture of peace towards our former enemies,” said Traximus. “Unfortunately, there are but two prisoners I must keep under lock and key. Perhaps, with time, they will find peace with each other.”

In a large jail cell, with a transparent wall, Zanramon and Blanque sat at opposite ends, glaring at each other, if daring the other to attack.

“This Triceraton stench is more than I can stand,” commented Blanque in a snide voice.

“The only stench I can smell is your cowardness, Blanque,” growled Zanramon in a harsh voice.

“You want a piece of me, then bring it on you stinking lizard,” said Blanque as he rose to his feet, raising his fist to Zanramon as if threatening the former Triceraton monarch. “This is if you got the guts.”

“I’ll show you, you spineless, gutless, sad excuse for a human. I’m going to tear you into shreds, Blanque” growled Zanramon as he rushed forward to the center of the cell, just as Blanque did. The two enemies punched the transparent wall, attempting to somehow manage to breach it so they could knock each other around but all of there attempts were bounced off by the security defenses within the cell, preventing each other from doing any lasting harm. Still, despite none of their punches actually connecting, both Zanramon and Blanque punched at the transparent wall for quite some time, hoping to break through one time and batter each other into a bloody pulp.

Just outside the former throne room, Leatherhead, the Turtles, Master Splinter, Hailey, Ginny, Harry, Traximus, Commander Mozar, and a group of Triceraton soldiers looked down at a coffin with a transparent top. Within the coffin was the motionless, yet somehow peaceful body of the robot that once housed the mind of the late Professor Honeycutt. Everyone looked down, paying their final respects to one Professor Honeycutt.

The scene was quiet and rather motionless before Leo turned to Don with a look on his face.

“I suppose we ought to say something,” said Leo calmly.

“I really don’t know what to say,” said Don before bending down towards the coffin with the robotic body inside. “Professor, I guess mainly I want to say that you were a good friend.”

Don looked shaken up for a moment as Master Splinter gave his son an encouraging look as Mozar calmly pressed a button which released Honeycutt’s coffin into space.

“Not only will you live on within your house, but your noble sacrifice will be noted as the ever lasting gift of peace throughout the universe,” concluded Don as the coffin with the Fugitoid disappeared out of sight into the endless vacuum of outer space.