It is important to note that my fan fiction, although it is CAU, does not necessarily represent the continuity in its absolute form; in fact, it is only one possible aspect of, and there are many different ways a story or series can be written for it. This means that anyone can write for it, and if you are interested, your input would be most greatly appreciated.
So the most important rules of CAU are:
Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave and Shockwave were never/are not Decepticons (i.e. are not evil).
And:
Starscream is not traitorous, and is friends with Megatron.
Some other guidelines are as follows:
There is a list of featured characters, 17 in total. They don't have to be used in stories at all, however if they are included, there are some guidelines for how to write for them. For example, there is absolutely no pairings for them. However, you may include as many Original Characters (OCs) and other canon characters as you like, and write them how you like (but preferably no slash/erotica).
This was the very first fan fic that I wrote, and has since been reedited. I am currently writing a series entitled The Golden Age of Cybertron, and the very first story in the series is The Prequel. Original, I know.
It has a more simplistic feel to the rest of the series (as Prequels sometimes tend to do). It begins long before G1, The War Within, or any other continuity; i.e. it takes place from The First Golden Age of Cybertron.Anyway, I really hope that you enjoy this story.
~~~
Author’s note:
These are the Cybertronian Time standards in relation to their equivalent Earth times, and which are used throughout this story:
An astro-second is a unit of time; 1 astro-second equals 1/2 of an Earth second.
A nano-klik equals approximately 1/10th of an Earth second; a klik equals approximately 1 Earth second.
A cycle equals approximately 1 Earth minute.
A breem equals approximately 8.3 Earth minutes (or 1000 astro-seconds)
A quartec equals approximately 1/4 of an Earth day.
A mega cycle equals approximately 1 Earth hour.
A deca cycle equals approximately 30 Earth days.
A stellar cycle equals approximately 1 Cybertronian year (400 Earth days).
A solar cycle/orn equals 1 Cybertronian day (20 Earth hours).
A vorn equals approximately 83 Earth years.
The Golden Age of Cybertron: The Prequel
PROLOGUE
In the beginning...
If one were to witness the event that was unfolding at that moment somewhere in the unknown regions of the Milky Way, primordial would be the word they would use to describe it. A primal energy flow of what looked like lava engulfed this area of space, an unstoppable, magnificent power source that threatened to tear apart and envelop the black void of space that surrounded it. An astronomical feat by any standard; this was the raw energy of creation at work, the miraculous birthing of a new star.
Only it wasn’t a star. It was a new world in the making, unlike any other: unique, independent, self reliant, sentient. In its initial stages it moved constantly, a great fiery mass, spherical, forming into something, yet not fully knowing itself, but only experiencing, shaping and reshaping, never still, always alive and fluid. It was like a giant, ferocious red serpent, summoned from the deepest and darkest recesses of space, seeking to devour all that came in its path.
Then, slowly, it began to take form. While moments before it was a shifting ball of plasma, it now transformed into a solid, round mass suspended in space, with a surface that began to acquire definition and detail; a metallic, smooth, silvery surface.
This newly birthed entity observed its own creation, happy with itself.
Now all appeared quiet once again, as if nothing much had happened in the universe except maybe the beginnings of a new world, one of the many trillions upon trillions of worlds that must continuously come and go, in just the blink of a universal eye. But appearances were deceiving, and just like there is never a still moment in the movie of creation, so too did this giant, sentient being continue to create. Deep inside itself, in its very core, its very spark, of its existence, there was movement, energy, and activity. A smaller, less magnificent version of the fluid red serpent continued to exist, very much alive and well. A giant lake of hot plasma now flowed, a source of unceasing, eternal energy forever moving and circling in its pit. It made its home here in the very centre of Cybertron; a place hidden and unknown.
CHAPTER 1
The Iacon City Command Center, like most of the structures on Cybertron, consisted of a smooth, precise material of a Cybertonium metal-crystal alloy. This particular alloy was unique, and possessed the ability to self-repair and rebuild to an original blueprint stored in a holographic form within its crystalline structure - just like the construction of the mechanoid inhabitants themselves – the Transformers.
The Cybertronian Council Chambers were located within the Command Center, and for the most part were off limits to ordinary personnel.
As it were, there were thirteen High Council members in all, as there always had been since the first memory of the existence of Cybertronian civilization. How or why these thirteen in particular no one could say for sure; however it was generally known that they were not necessarily the same thirteen original Transformers first created by Primus himself.
A large, sparsely adorned room within the council chambers was now available for use. An empty, oval table with thirteen seats occupied the center, its smooth, polished lines forming a highly reflective surface. The rest of the room was bare, save for a small object encased inside a viewing panel set deep into the recess of one wall - if someone wasn’t looking for it as they walked into the room, they would barely have noticed it was there.
Soon the members of the Cybertronian High Council began to file their way in and take their places at the table. Once they were all inside and had seated, the door slid closed behind them. This particular meeting had been called with fairly short notice, and with a certain sense of urgency, a somewhat rare and unusual occurrence for the council.
The small group of Cybertronians who were assembled exchanged words amongst themselves, completely disregarding the usual protocols that were normally followed at these meetings. The voices all speaking at once made it difficult to discern any intelligent discussion. The air of excitement was apparent and many of the members wanted to have their say without further delay.
Then a voice spoke from amongst them, more loudly than the others. “We don’t know enough about it – there’s no telling what could happen!”
The owner of the voice was a mechanoid, or mech for short, by the name of Alpha Trion. His appearance differed somewhat to the other Transformers – his origins were unknown and it was dubious he was a native of Cybertron itself – as well as the fact that he was the only robot here who did not actually have the ability to transform.
Alpha Trion’s statement caused a further onslaught of comments and opinions to be let loose.
“I agree; it’s too soon,” one of the other council members replied, who was sitting directly opposite him. “The prototypes wouldn’t even function without their basic personality programs – most of them are only suited for basic tasks and –”
He got cut off abruptly as another member, a taller, sleek blue Transformer, decided that he should speak up then. “That shouldn’t be a problem. The legend says that the Key will grant sentience to a basic cybernetic form. The Autobots are more than ready – after all, they were developed to be just like us in every way... they could function just like we do. There have never been any problems with them, for many eons now.”
He was referring to the Key to Vector Sigma, a long lost legend of Cybertronian history that, until now, its existence had remained a mystery. Many doubted its powers, and merely claimed these stories to be just a myth. Many of the original Transformers, the very first created, came from what was known as The Source, of which very little else was known about it. The story goes that one day, The Source just sealed itself, never to create another Transformer again. The legend claims that this Key to Vector Sigma is the only remaining artifact in existence that is somehow directly connected to The Source, and so possesses the same powers - but this yet remained to be proven.
“Every way except free will!” Alpha Trion responded quickly, answering the blue Transformer. “The ability to think for themselves, to feel, to be alive! That is the one thing we could never give them, and the Key to Vector Sigma itself is just a legend, it’s never been proven to work.”
Alpha Trion finished speaking and looked around for approval by the others. He generally disagreed with the idea of granting sentience to mechanical protoforms that were designed and built by them, especially when their primary purpose was to serve them, and not to be like them. The ‘Autobots,’ as they were called, lacked the essence of life, the spark that every living Transformer possessed in their core. There was no way known to create a new, sentient Transformer, not since The Source had become inactive so long ago, and yet here they were, discussing the very possibility of it, all thanks to the discovery at long last of the Holy Grail of Cybertron legend – the Key. Regardless, he considered himself to be a fairly reasonable mech, and was willing to listen to the opposing point of view, even if he was somewhat dubious of it. His main concern, when it came down to it, was the danger underlying the activation and use of the Key. For him, the risk was too great and simply not warranted - at least not until they were sure it was safe to use.
The approval that Alpha Trion sought did not come, but instead a momentary haze of silence settled upon the entire assembly, as if they were all waiting with baited breath for some incredible miracle to occur right before their very optics. Every now and again, the more unsettled and apprehensive of the members would take a quick glance at the golden object, safely sealed within its recess in the chamber’s wall, but only for an instant. Most of them could hardly believe that the sacred Key to Vector Sigma had actually been found. But there it was, its existence as plain as day, and within only a few astro-seconds’ reach from those who were lucky enough to be a part of the established council.
Finally, a heavily-armored mechanoid broke the silence. “The Key has finally been found,” he spoke softly and waited for a moment before proceeding. “At long last, and for the first time in over many millions of stellar cycles, with this key we finally have a way to be able to bring life to our prototypes... to create them as equals.” The other council members listened, absorbed by his words, and by the possibilities that they brought. Looking around the room, the speaker saw that he now gained the others’ attention, and continued. “I say we would be foolish to give up this opportunity. We should at least try! Vector Prime, surely you have an opinion on this matter?”
The aforementioned Transformer sat quietly at one end of the table, not having spoken a word since the beginning of the meeting. Vector Prime was one of the most respected and most powerful of all Cybertronians, and one glance at him would quickly tell you why. His mostly impenetrable armor was an amazing detail of blue, silver and magenta, and he stood much taller and larger than most of the others here. Everyone knew he wielded the most powerful sword known in their existence, which was given the name the Cyber Caliber, and had the ability to manipulate time and space itself. That, along with his magnificent transformational mode of a spacecraft, gave him the title of being the Guardian of Space and Time. He was also one of the original thirteen.
“I do; however, it is only fair that each of you has had a chance to speak,” that was all Vector Prime had to say on the issue for the moment. One of his strong points was his infinite patience and ability to reserve judgment until all possible angles of a situation had been carefully considered. “Primacron, you have not yet spoken. Is there anything you wish to share with us?”
Silence followed on the mention of this name. Seated opposite Vector Prime, the one known as Primacron was the only other council member amongst them who was thought to be an original. There were others who believed otherwise – that he came not from Primus, but from some other unknown, darker energy source – and who mistrusted and were even a little fearful of him. He hardly ever attended council meetings or made his presence known, but when he did, he left the other members with an unshakable feeling of apprehension and discomfort. Primacron himself simply sat there in silence, waiting for his turn to speak. His outer armor completely covered his features, which nobody had ever actually seen in person. He was a large, imposing being, completely enshrouded in mystery, and seemed to be surrounded by shadows that inexplicably came from nowhere.
“The Key... should never have been found!” His voice raspy and ominous, Primacron now reminded the other members why he was sometimes referred to as The Dark One, although no one dared call him that name in his presence. “It should have remained buried in the depths of Cybertron. The Creation Pit lost its power to grant life all those eons ago... for a good reason. We do not need sentient Autobots; we need servants, subordinates to build Cybertron’s armies.”
The heavily-armored mech, the one who had summoned Vector Prime, spoke again. “Ridiculous! We don’t need armies; our planet is a peaceful one, and granting the Autobots sentience can only be of benefit to our civilization.”
The Dark One seemed to regard his remarks with contempt; however it was difficult to tell what he was thinking due to his well-hidden features that were protected underneath his armor.
“Regardless, I have been informed that the Autobots have already begun to show the first signs. It is only a matter of time before they become like the rest of us then,” Vector Prime interjected, changing the topic of the conversation slightly.
“Perhaps, but that will only happen with the use of the Key,” Alpha Trion replied. “Without it, the signs will remain just that – and nothing more.”
~~~
Shockwave was by anyone’s definition an imposing, powerful mech. His presence was unmistakable, and his reputation left nothing to be desired. Appointed by the council members themselves for his superior knowledge and skill, he spent most of his time overlooking and directing the daily goings on of the Iacon City complex, Cybertron’s primary command post. His specialized design was unique amongst Cybertronians, and it was rumored that he was an original, however the records to such knowledge had been lost long ago and thus all speculation as to his origin and primary function remained just that – speculation. Of course, Shockwave would never deny or admit any of these claims, and as he was a very private mech most of the time, he preferred to keep it that way.
There weren’t many that knew Shockwave on a deeply personal level, but those who did, knew him to be a very loyal and considerate friend, and whom they could trust with their lives. That is why Vector Prime had initially proposed to council that Shockwave should be amongst those in charge of all aspects of Cybertron’s primary city of Iacon. Council opposed his recommendation at first, but after a long and drawn out deliberation, Vector Prime had finally managed to turn the majority of the members’ votes around. Shockwave had been the first of two to be selected for the role. And he did not disappoint.
Soundwave, his closest adviser and friend, and the mech who had been appointed as co-commander, stood beside him now as they both inspected their team of Autobots.
They were all currently offline, lined up neatly in a row against one wall. Most of them had wires and connectors of some kind attached to them, most probably to allow access to their central processors for programming and readjustments. Like their Cybertronian creators, the Autobots had the ability to transform their shape and function from their normal robot forms, to a specialized alternate form, which was usually vehicular.
Shockwave busily pressed some controls on his console, and then walked along past some of the protoforms. The first one was larger than the others; he had a strong, stately construction that consisted of a mostly silver and black coating. He was equipped with a powerful fusion cannon on his right arm, and on his chest was the standard Autobot insignia, a red symbol of the mythical face of their deity, Primus, that all Autobots were adorned with. This Autobot would make a great leader some day, Shockwave thought.
Next along were three similar looking protoforms, but each with different color schemes. They were seeker jets in their alternate form, designed and built specifically to dominate the skies. They outmaneuvered most other flight capable Transformers, and were the first of their kind. Next to them were three more Autobots, tall and well built, sleek and designed for front line combat, if that were ever needed. They had an impressive arsenal of weaponry at their disposal. Shockwave stopped momentarily in front of them, observing them, and then continued on.
He was pleased with the way most of these protoforms had evolved, especially since he had designed and built them himself, along with the aide of Soundwave. They were the first wave of Autobots. But that was a long time ago, and he had since designated the task of creating the newer series of Autobots to the other scientists and engineers. Still, these were the very first ones, and they had proven to be very reliable and useful over the hundreds of thousands of stellar cycles since their construction and activation.
Shockwave came to a stop in front of the next one, inspecting it carefully; making sure everything was in order. It appeared to be. He was a little more curious about this one, especially since the majority of the reports being sent to him regarding the spontaneous personality anomalies occurring amongst the Autobot ranks were of the mech standing in front of him now. He was not as tall as the others, nor had he any obvious weaponry or heavy armor to speak of, which gave the impression he was less aggressive and more ‘friendly’ than his counterparts. There was a similar looking Autobot next to him, since most of the protoforms had either two or three duplicates each but were still different enough and distinguishable enough from one another, usually by their color variations, accessories, or both. This Autobot’s double did not have the same black and white color scheme, nor did he have the blue visor that covered the former Autobot’s optic sensors. Shockwave waited for its activation, blue visor emanating a soft blue glow as it did so.
“State your primary code and function,” Shockwave said simply, his singular optic flashing as he spoke. He waited for the expected reply from the Autobot, and got it.
“Autobot identification code: 44-23-05. Codename: Jazz. Function: All-purpose cybernetic prototype; specification: communications.”
“Run Level 1 diagnostics,” Shockwave continued after a short pause.
Jazz silently complied, initiating his standard in-built diagnostics program as ordered.
“It’s just a routine maintenance; why a Level 1?”
Shockwave turned to face the owner of the voice that had just spoken behind him. It belonged to their primary engineer, who went by the name of Wheeljack. He had entered the room to offer his assistance to the two residing mechs. He was a jovial and rather animated Cybertronian who was always ready to lend a hand and offer his expertise.
Soundwave answered his query from the computer console where he stood. “Attempting to determine source of spontaneous anomalies,” he explained, his monotonic, synthesized voice greeting Wheeljack.
Wheeljack gave Soundwave a quick nod and walked up to the line of Autobots to stand beside Shockwave, watching the maintenance check with interest. Jazz had apparently completed his scan and was now on stand by, waiting for his next order.
“Jazz: report,” the purple mech commanded.
A slight pause, and then Jazz’s unique, deeply melodic voice responded. “All systems operating within acceptable parameters... looks like I check out ok.”
Wheeljack observed Jazz’s unusual behavior with great interest. “Spontaneous anomalies, huh? You don’t say,” he said to no one in particular, voicing his thoughts aloud.
The Autobots were relatively self-sufficient on their own, and quite capable of performing their assigned tasks, however a complex personality matrix was not part of their makeup, since it was neither possible to incorporate one into their subsystems successfully, nor was it required for them to function. Well, maybe it wasn’t entirely impossible, but it was nevertheless a risky and highly unstable procedure without a spark to contain and assimilate such a program. Quite simply, it would fail without the Key to Vector Sigma, or direct access to The Source, to grant them a spark. As such, their main personality programs were all currently disconnected, save for a basic minimal algorithm that was operating from the larger matrix. Shockwave had had the foresight to include the full matrix module to begin with, for the remote chance that perhaps one day, it may be used. Vector Prime had encouraged the hope that it may be possible to bring these Autobots to life, hence the personality matrix would then become a crucial part of their makeup, and it seemed that now, that day was slowly but surely approaching. With Shockwave’s recent discovery of the Key, it seemed more possible now than it had ever been before.
“Affirmative; within the personality algorithms,” Soundwave’s voice drifted over to them, having heard Wheeljack’s comment and promptly replying.
“There have been quite a number of reports and they all seem to be indicating the same thing,” Shockwave explained, expanding upon Soundwave’s statement for Wheeljack’s benefit.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
Shockwave looked at Wheeljack, and then back at the Autobot Jazz before continuing. “Apparently, some of the Autobots are beginning to spontaneously evolve beyond their original programming... essentially, they seem to be developing personalities beyond their basic algorithm.”
Wheeljack thought about this, considering all possibilities and explanations with his lightning speed processor. “...but how is that possible, Shockwave?” That was all that he could come up with for the moment. However, it sounded like a puzzle that he was only too eager to help solve. He turned to Soundwave for a possible explanation.
“Cause uncertain: however full spectrum analysis reveals unusual core radiation.”
Shockwave then added, finishing the sentence for him. “...not unlike our own.”
CHAPTER 2
Primal energon flowed continuously, a formless, liquefied mass swirling and bubbling away. It resembled a lava pit - not unlike the Creation Pit of The Source. Only this wasn’t The Source, at least not the original Source of Primus. Here, hidden away in an unknown part of the galaxy, no one in their rightful mind would dare to approach it, not even the mightiest and bravest of warriors.
He looked on in satisfaction from a dark recess of the rock cave at the plasma pit before him. This was his favorite part, the part where he could finally discard his hideous robotic body to reveal his true form beneath. The more he had to pretend and act like one of them, the more vengeful and full of rage he became. And even now, shedding his pretend form, very few decent mechs or beings alike got to see his natural state, and lived to tell about it. And of those few who did manage to survive - albeit a very rare but cursed few - soon became weakened and plagued by insanity; the nightmarish hallucinations and suffering they endured, and that followed them all the days of the rest of their agonized lives, becoming the stuff of morbid legend that only a brave storyteller dared speak of.
Even Primacron, his assumed name, caused him to react with disgust at the very thought of it. He had been known by many different names, and none of them even rang close to his true one, which was phonetically impossible to pronounce. Not to matter, he thought to himself, it was only a matter of time and then this charade, this ridiculous waiting game, would be over, and he would finally rule!
The Dark One continued watching the pit, his repulsive, twisted form - neither organic nor inorganic, but somewhere in between - loomed over it threateningly. A sudden disturbance in the energon flow became apparent, and then, slowly but surely, something began to take shape, emerging from the depths of the abyss and taking form right before his eyes. An evil smirk showed his deep satisfaction to what was his newest creation.
Soon... very soon... the Key to Vector Sigma shall be mine! Finally I will rule all of Cybertron!
The cybernetic form stood in front of him on the rocky floor, as still as the emptiness of space. This new servant was impressively large, almost rivaling his creator in stature and form, and resembled a mighty half mech-half beast. It had a large set of protruding teeth from a hellish, gaping mouth, and a set of reddish optics that seemed to pierce at one’s very spark. The heavy armory of its black and shade of dark green seemed as if it could withstand the onslaught of a thousand warriors all too easily. However, for the moment at least, it was lifeless, nothing more than an impressive, but empty, protoform shell.
“You shall be my first!” The dark master proclaimed. Then, pleased with what he saw, he began to laugh, a chilling and sinister laugh that would have sent shivers down the spine of anyone who heard it. Yes, he would have his way very soon, and beware any accursed, wretched spark that dared stand in his way!
~~~
The Autobots needed recharging on a regular basis, and it was part of Shockwave’s responsibility to see to it that they were each and all accounted for at the beginning of their recharge cycle. He would get his own a little later on, having opted instead to stay at his post for a while longer in order to allow the other Cybertronians, who helped run the Command Center with him, to get their chance to recharge. Other than the presence of Shockwave monitoring the vast array of command consoles and computer monitors, it was dark and relatively quiet in the adjacent rooms and hallways where he now worked. All that could be heard was the soft tapping as he scrolled through and analyzed the data files that had been compiled earlier of the Autobots’ diagnostics readouts. There were definite inconsistencies in the data, but he could not yet make any real sense of it. The only explanation that he could come up with at the moment, and at the risk of sounding preposterous and inconceivable, was the idea that somehow, the Autobots’ empty core chambers were changing, as if responding to – or preparing for, the assimilation of a spark. But that was impossible. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and in his many vorns of service, he had never seen anything like this, ever.
A sudden abrupt sound interrupted his thoughts, and he turned towards the distraction without delay. It seemed to have come from somewhere near the council chambers, which were located directly to his right. Shockwave headed towards the doors to investigate.
He reminded himself that the security system was on full stand by and on priority alert, as it always was at this time of night, and would have picked up any unauthorized access to this area of the complex, thereby alerting him and his backup team immediately in case of such an event.
Inside the council chambers, a black, metallic and grotesque hand, with fingers that resembled blades tapering to fine points, silently and effortlessly found its way inside the enclosed panel that contained the golden Key. Wasting no time at all, the owner of the hand grabbed the prized possession out of its encasing with a swift, but rough, gesture. Then the hand hesitated for only a moment, as the purple mech entered the chambers – but only for a moment. Other than its hand, the rest of the intruder’s countenance was completely shrouded in darkness.
Shockwave realized that it was almost impossible to make any positive identification of the unwelcome visitor. A quick realization of the dimness of the room told him that something was definitely amiss, since the automatic lighting system should have activated by now. Whoever, or whatever, was currently in the room with him would have had to have more than just a basic access clearance level to the council chambers, but he would worry about that later. Right now, he had to do whatever he could to stop this intruder from escaping with the Key to Vector Sigma.
Shockwave raised his ray-gun arm and pointed it directly at the dark figure, realizing he had a clear shot, and prepared to fire.
“You are unauthorized to –” He began, but was very quickly cut off, as all of a sudden he was knocked offline by some invisible, yet powerful blast, and collapsed to the floor. It had happened so quickly that there had been no chance he could have prevented the attack, even if he had fired his own weapon without hesitation.
~~~
It was unusual for anyone to be admitted to the repair bay for anything other than routine maintenance, or a scheduled upgrade. After all, the Transformers were a relatively peaceful race, being predominantly explorers, and were not in any current state of war.
So when the news of what had happened in the council chambers during the last recharge cycle was made known, it took most of the mechs by surprise.
Vector Prime displayed no indication of any such surprise to the unfortunate event, however, but instead calmly observed the fallen mech who now lay on a repair berth, while he pondered their next course of action. Meanwhile, Wheeljack worked busily on Shockwave’s repairs, bent over him in focused concentration, a portable scanner in one hand. Soundwave was assisting him.
“Ok, we’re almost done. Although I gotta tell you, that weapons blast is unlike any I’ve ever seen before,” Wheeljack commented, looking up from his work. He made some last few adjustments before reactivating Shockwave, who then sat up and immediately proceeded to run a routine scan on himself. After a few moments, he stood up, satisfied.
“Shockwave, did you get a positive identification on the intruder?” Vector Prime asked him, once the purple robot had regained his bearings.
Shockwave recalled the dark, mysterious figure from the previous night and realized with regret that the Key to Vector Sigma - the Key to their only hope of being able to continue the Transformer race – was lost. The Key that he had found, and that he had now lost. His shoulders slumped slightly at the thought. “No... Whoever or whatever it was... I have not encountered before.”
“Are you certain?” Vector Prime asked, still deep in thought.
“I am positive Vector Prime. It was neither from Cybertron, nor was it an Autobot,” he replied assuredly.
“Well who else could have had such access to the council chambers?” Heads turned to see the mech that had now spoken. It was Alpha Trion, standing behind Vector Prime. He had quietly entered the room at some point, and had stopped to listen to the conversation. Concern and frustration were evident in his voice.
“And gotten past you so easily?” Wheeljack added, addressing Shockwave.
Unfortunately, no one had any ready answers. Silence came over them momentarily as they each tried to make sense of it all.
“My analysis indicates...” Soundwave broke the silence, wanting to give them some answer, any answer that could possibly be of help. “...Primacron to be the most likely suspect.”
A pause, and then, “Primacron? That is inconceivable, Soundwave,” Vector Prime reasoned. However, no one had any better ideas right now, and so he allowed himself to consider the possibility. “He is a member of the council; even if he did steal the Key, the security monitors would have picked up it was he.”
“Perhaps he had some way to override them,” Shockwave suggested.
Then another pause before Vector Prime continued questioning Soundwave. “What analysis do you speak of, Soundwave?”
“I took the liberty of conducting a subliminal mind scan in his presence. However, I was not able to access his thought patterns,” was the ready reply.
Wheeljack was curious as always. “Wait – you mean you couldn’t actually read his mind?” That was very unusual. Soundwave’s mind manipulation capabilities were extremely advanced, and no being known, organic or otherwise, was immune to them.
“Correct, Wheeljack. My mind reading capability is close to invulnerable – it appears he may be in possession of some form of advanced technology that is currently unknown to us.”
“This is most interesting. However, it still does not prove that he is the one responsible,” Vector Prime continued, impartial. The others knew he was right, and now the task of repossessing the Key would undoubtedly not be an easy one.
“Well, it’s the only lead we’ve got, for now,” Wheeljack countered. “I mean come on, Vector Prime; didn’t you say before that he was the only council member strongly opposed to giving the Autobots their own sparks?”
“Yes, perhaps... but what use then would the Key be to him?”
~~~
The Key would be very useful to him. Indeed, extremely useful to him. He was most pleased with the recent success of his plan. Now finally, after so many eons gone by, and for the first time since he was cursed with the gift of existence, the Key to Vector Sigma, the only known access to The Source of great power, was his.
The Dark One clutched it tightly in his hand, as he observed his loyal servant. He could almost feel the power of the Key throbbing, just waiting for somebody to unleash its power, a power that had lain dormant since time immemorial.
Alas, he had waited so long, the search for the small artifact having come abruptly to an end the moment he had heard that someone had found it before he did. That had been the most pleasant news that he had received for the longest time. And to think, he had almost given up the search, had been almost ready to admit defeat and move on to an alternative method of satisfying his insatiable desire for ultimate power. Almost.
And now he would wait not a moment longer. As soon as his servant had successfully acquired the guarded possession from right under that purple mech’s care, he had wasted no time in making his way here, to the inner depths of Cybertron, to where the sealed Creation Pit lay waiting for his arrival so he could make use of it once more.
He turned to his creation, which had silently and obediently followed him all the way down here, after having handed over the Key to its master.
“Good work, my loyal servant. Now, prepare to awaken!”
The voice of The Dark One echoed and resonated eerily inside the empty Vault that contained the supercomputer of the Transformer race, the heart of Cybertron’s function and operation, and the keeper of The Source – Vector Sigma.
He knew this place well, knew every switch, button and control console of the supercomputer, as well as all of its inner workings and functions, in great detail. After all, he had spent most of his time in preparation for this momentous event, ever patient and ever hopeful, in order that he could fulfill his wish and finally rule. It was his rightful place to do so, he thought.
He strode over to a darkened control panel, touched a few buttons, and it lit up. The overhead view screen, which had been abandoned and unused for millennia, now flickered to life. A slight hum emanated from it, and then silence.
There was a certain sequence of commands that needed to be performed, in order for the Key to be activated correctly, and this sequence was known only to a select few – a closely protected secret to safeguard its use in the event that a situation such as this would ever occur. Well, he smirked derisively to himself, that had not been a problem, as he skillfully placed the Key in the correct sequence in its slot.
The brilliant flash of white light that followed startled even him, but only momentarily. He quickly regained his composure, and then activated a circular platform that would be used to grant life, and with it sentience, to his protoform.
Appearing to know exactly what to do, the servant drone proceeded to step onto the platform without delay, no words of instruction needed. After a few kliks, the drone began to glow eerily, as if it was being overloaded with a luminescent radiation and would explode into a brilliant, hellish inferno. But that did not happen, and instead its master watched his creation as the glow within it subsided, the body and armor returning to its previous state once more.
And it was done, as quickly and as simply as that.
The new Transformer came to life, its countenance diffused with the miracle of life that had been very obviously lacking only a few moments before. The Dark One watched with a lurid satisfaction as his living creation slowly surveyed its surroundings, stepping down from the platform in realization of its new-found self-awareness. If its demeanor had been at all terrifying before, it was tenfold more so now.
But The Dark One was still its master, and that would never change. He stepped towards his new servant, slowly, regarding it in admiration.
The former drone seemed to know what was required of him immediately, without having to be told. It bowed before its master in demonstration of its loyalty.
“Are you ready to carry out your first mission...” The Dark One spoke, breaking the unnatural silence that undoubtedly existed as a result of the presence of such evil. “...Liege Maximo?” The Dark One concluded after a moment of thought, pleased with his new second-in-command.
The newly appointed Liege slowly raised his head to face his Master. “Yes, my Lord. What are your orders?”
“Good... very, very good,” the most evil being replied, speaking his thoughts aloud. His efforts were slowly proving to be worthwhile, his will gradually coming to fruition. Soon, nothing and no one would be able to stop him – and he would finally have his way!
He could not help the evil cackle that emanated from his vocal unit at the thought.
CHAPTER 3
The Liege Maximo accessed a computer within an empty room somewhere in the hidden depths of Polyhex, Iacon’s smaller, sister city that was located on the other side of the globe. Like Iacon, this city was a multi-leveled one, only more compact and uniform, but still a busy and thriving hub engaged in all manner of active comings and goings.
The perfect place to set up a secret military base, thought The Liege. Personally he couldn’t wait to carry out his orders; he reveled at the thought of the total domination and subjugation of the Cybertronian high council and its subordinates, and ultimately, the entire race.
It had been approximately three deca cycles since his first day of activation, three deca cycles during which he had diligently and unceasingly worked under the Master’s guidance, to learn all that he was required to learn – the art of manipulation, war and the black arts. He had absorbed his training with extreme interest and willingness, and had even outperformed the Master’s own expectations. He had proven to be a powerful, brutal and remorseless warrior, designed and created to crush all and any opponent that dared stand against him.
He was promised his own army to control – and indeed this was delivered to him in no time at all. New, dedicated cybernetic drones suddenly began to emerge from within Polyhex Central, for his own perusal.
For now, these new creations were to remain hidden, and so were only allowed to occupy the underground military base – but their numbers were growing steadily each day, and it was only a matter of time before the Master himself would give the order that he was waiting for – and then, then, the real fun could begin.
The door to his quarters gave a chime, and he turned towards it, distracted from his work. That must be the expected visitor, he thought. Good, on time. He punched some controls in front of him, and the door slid open.
The Liege observed the newcomer with interest, taking a long moment to study him. However, his dislike of the Autobot was immediately apparent. Then again, he generally disliked all Autobots. He regarded them as inferior.
The Master certainly delivers on his promises, The Liege thought. Of course, he hadn’t been quite sure what to expect, until now. He hadn’t been told very much of whom he would be receiving – only that it would be an Autobot, on which he was to perform the experiment upon.
“Come closer, Autobot,” he finally commanded.
The Autobot complied immediately, walking closer towards The Liege, and then appeared to wait for further instructions.
The Liege observed him more closely. Impressive, even for an Autobot. He stood tall, with the appearance of a well-built, capable warrior, a mostly silver-grey exterior complementing his demeanor nicely. He would fit in quite well. Perhaps he could be assigned to transportation duties, or maybe if he was lucky – manufacturing. Whoever had designed him had done a reasonable job, he thought reluctantly, in spite of himself. A reasonable job indeed. The black fusion cannon mounted on the Autobot’s right arm did not escape his notice, either.
Who knew? This plan may even work. Despite The Liege’s full loyalty to his Master, he had his doubts about this... project. Giving Autobots sentience was... aversive, to say the least. Still, it was worth a try, especially if the results turned out to be desirable.
“So, I am informed that you are the strongest and most skilled in combat amongst... the Autobots,” he spoke, emphasizing the last word with obvious distaste. He went back to his computer screens, not expecting any reply. “We shall see about that.”
He continued to study something on his monitors before continuing, not looking up. “What is your primary code and function?”
“Autobot identification code: 40-04-12. Codename: Megatron. Function: Leader class cybernetic prototype; specification: military operations.”
This made The Liege look up. Leader Class Military Operations. He may have underestimated its abilities. “Who do you obey?”
The cybernetic prototype gave him the standard reply. “I am programmed to receive instructions from cybernetic units with a Level 1 clearance code.”
That was simple enough. His Master had provided him with all the clearance codes he needed. “Good. Clearance code: 6-9-0-0-1-ALPHA. Prepare to receive new instructions.” He watched the emotionless face of the Autobot as it assimilated his instructions.
A pause followed as Megatron processed this latest information. The Liege was beginning to worry that he had perhaps used the wrong instruction code, or that his plan had already been discovered and that the Autobot’s owners had remotely locked any further access to his systems. “Clearance code accepted. Voice identification recognized. Ready.”
Frustration quickly overcame relief, and he grimaced. Pathetic Autobot, he thought.
“You belong to me now. I am your new master. You are to accept orders only from me and those that I have authorized. Is that understood?”
Because if it's not, I will not hesitate to terminate you, right here and now, Autobot. The Liege was beginning to lose patience. Talking to a drone was not his idea of time well spent.
“New instructions assimilated into primary program,” Megatron simply replied.
Satisfied with that, The Liege then proceeded to open an access port via a small panel in the back of the Autobot’s neck, barely discernible. He then installed a tiny device into its circuitry, a device that he seemed to have been holding in his hand the whole time. A few kliks was all it took, and when he had finished, he closed the port. Then he turned back towards his control consoles, walking quickly up to and past them, until finally stopping at the opposite wall. Once there, he activated a secret compartment, the existence of which unknown to all but him and his Master.
The Liege Maximo carefully pulled the sacred Key from within the panel, observed it for a moment, and then quickly strode back towards the Autobot Megatron, with it in his hand.
“Prepare to receive a very special gift, Autobot,” The Liege proclaimed, speaking his thoughts aloud.
Progress had also been made during these last three deca cycles in relation to The Key to Vector Sigma. No longer was it necessary to be in the vicinity of the Creation Pit in order for it to be activated and used. It was now a portable device, and this had made his job a lot easier. As long as he held it in his hand, he could grant sentience to whomever he wished.
Liege Maximo activated the Key, and the Autobot Megatron was given life.
“Now, with whom do you pledge your allegiance?” The Liege asked him, making sure that his Master’s plans had not been futile.
To Megatron, it felt as if the world around him had suddenly come to life, as if he had awoken from a long, dreamless sleep. Who he was, or what he was doing here, were as yet unclear to him, and while his audio sensors received the spoken signal from the entity currently standing before him, his automatic response unit kicked in, providing his vocal processor with the correct response.
“To you, my master.”
That felt... unfamiliar. What was he doing here, and whom had he just promised his allegiance to? Megatron quickly ran a self-check for any possible clues as to why he felt as if he had a conflict somewhere in his programming. Meanwhile, the other entity seemed oblivious to his internal goings on, and perhaps that was for the best. He didn’t know exactly why, though.
The Dark One appeared from out of the shadows, to stand beside his second-in-command. He was very pleased.
~~~
Soundwave easily assimilated the live data stream that was being fed through from all sectors of Iacon’s central Command Center. He worked as quickly as he could, sifting through the reports for something that could explain the latest security alert. Apparently, one or more of the Autobots had been compromised, and could not be reached by the usual channels. Something was seriously wrong.
Soundwave was not a mech of many words, but when he spoke, others usually listened. He commanded an unequivocal respect that could only be gained from the many vorns of outstanding active service such as he had given. Like his counterpart Shockwave, he considered Cybertron and all its inhabitants worth dedicating his life to, and if required of him, dying for. He would easily and without hesitation sacrifice himself for his friends if need be, and likewise his friends would do the same for him. Fortunately, this had never been asked of him.
Shockwave stood at the other console, also trying to find an explanation to the current security alert. Occupying the command room with Soundwave and himself were a number of other Cybertronians and mechs, while some of the Autobots were online and actively attending to their assigned tasks.
Wheeljack was also at his post, working alongside Cybertron’s chief scientist, a red and navy blue, solidly built Cybertronian by the name of Perceptor. A powerful light cannon, which could also be used as a viewing lens, was mounted on the scientist’s left shoulder.
Soundwave’s findings confirmed it. “Command is unrecognized. Malfunction apparent.”
“I am getting no response. Have the other Autobots acknowledged?” Shockwave answered him quickly.
“All except one. Codename: Megatron. Unable to establish communications link-up.” Soundwave concentrated on the monitor in front of him without looking up, as he gave his response.
“Try the alternative control sub-routine.”
A pause as Soundwave went to work. The other mechs in the room stopped what they were doing to watch them, preparing to offer their assistance if it was needed.
“Negative: no response.”
This was not a good sign. It could only mean one of two things: either the Autobot in question had malfunctioned in some unforeseeable way and couldn’t be contacted, or the Autobot had been compromised by an unauthorized command, which could have resulted in a malfunction, or worse, irreparable damage. If the case was the former, it was a relatively simple matter of sending out a search and retrieval unit to locate and secure the Autobot, but if the case was the latter... well, they could only hope that it was not so.
It wasn’t just the fact that these Autobots belonged to them – they were far more valuable than that. These Autobots were designed to be more than just simple drones. They had been implemented with a technology that had been personally developed and perfected by the small team of scientists and engineers at Iacon. In theory, these Autobots had the potential to expand, to grow from their original programming so that one day they may be regarded as equals, and become fully sentient, just like their creators. But this was only theory thus far, the missing link being the ability to infuse their central cores with a spark, the final untested and unpredictable stage of their development. True it was more of an unrealized dream than a proven reality, but as long as the Key to Vector Sigma existed, then that hope could some day very well turn into reality.
Unfortunately, if anyone were to get their hands on one of the protoforms, not only could their dreams of continuing and expanding the Transformer race be threatened, but their own existence could be at risk as well. In the wrong hands, the information that would be acquired about the Transformer technology could be used against them. Their advanced technology was, at least up until now, known only to them – the Level 1 personnel and the members of the Cybertronian council – and no one else. Hopefully it would remain that way.
Wheeljack strode triumphantly over to his superior, a data pad in hand. “Shockwave, I think I got something.”
The Cybertronian being addressed turned to acknowledge the engineer. Hopefully, he had a viable lead. “Proceed.”
“Well, ah... I’ve managed to track down Megatron’s last known co-ordinates before we lost contact.”
That was good enough. “Thank you, Wheeljack.”
As Wheeljack transferred over the data, Shockwave turned towards two Autobots nearest to him and gave them new orders.
“Ratchet, Hardtop, proceed to these co-ordinates. Locate and retrieve Autobot Megatron. Immediately.”
“Yes, Commander,” Ratchet and Hardtop said in unison, stopping what they had been doing without delay to accept their new mission.
CHAPTER 4
Megatron had been following The Liege Maximo closely for the past few mega cycles, and he was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Still, he would keep his feelings to himself, for now. He wanted to learn as much as he could about himself and his surroundings, before taking any self-initiated actions. But for now however, he was fully absorbed in his new experience – that of being... alive.
They finally arrived at what he learned to be the Polyhex Communications Centre, a drab, minimally furnished, upper sector of the command post.
He noted that his ‘Commanding Officer’ seemed to believe that he was still the unthinking, obedient drone from his former existence, since he was certainly being treated as such. No matter... perhaps he could use The Liege’s abrasive, careless attitude to his advantage.
“This is where you will be assigned for most of your active mega cycles. You are to monitor any and all transmissions, and report directly to me,” the larger mech explained brusquely. Then he turned towards his subordinate, sneering at him menacingly, wanting to emphasize his authority. “Is that perfectly clear? I do not tolerate insubordination of any kind - unless you want an untimely end to your precious life, Autobot!”
Megatron did not reply immediately; the threats did not seem to faze him. He had seen and heard enough of this self-absorbed tyrant. Now he wanted to test him a little.
“My programming instructs me to pledge my allegiance to you, Liege, however I... feel...”
“You feel what?” The Liege replied abruptly, baring his fangs as his repulsive lips curled back in anger. “You feel only what I tell you to feel, nothing more, is that clear? I gave you life. Without me you would not even exist! You belong to me now.”
That is what you think, Megatron thought, amused, but did not show it. “Yes... master.”
~~~
Ratchet and Hardtop could not approach the co-ordinates they had been given; they found that they could progress no further. They had arrived at an isolated area of Sector 27, which made up part of Polyhex’s lower levels. All access panels denied them entrance to the deeper sections of the city. Also, there was no sign of Autobot 40-04-12 to be found. There was no other choice now but to turn around and make their way back to Iacon.
Ratchet radioed their current position back to headquarters, and awaited confirmation of their next instructions. It was a secure channel; Soundwave had taken extra precautions before allowing the two Autobots to proceed, so that their actions and whereabouts could be fully monitored at all times. They would not be in any danger, but if necessary, a backup unit could be deployed to assist them within a few cycles.
Back at Iacon, their progress was being monitored. “There must be some mistake,” Wheeljack thought aloud, glancing at the data relayed by the Autobots. “That can’t be the co-ordinates I extrapolated.”
“There is no mistake,” Shockwave said. “The co-ordinates are correct. However, it appears that they are not accessible.”
“That’s impossible. We have full access to all areas of Cybertron. Don’t we?”
“Most areas. There are still many hidden, unexplored parts of Cybertron that we have yet to discover,” Vector Prime spoke, standing behind the pair of them as he offered his knowledge and assistance.
Cybertron made up for its relatively small size by the many intricate tiers, access points and passageways cleverly packed together throughout its entire mass. It was easy to get lost if one did not have their proper bearings.
A transceiver blipped, and Soundwave opened a communications channel. “Report,” he stated simply.
“Autobot Ratchet reporting. Mission unsuccessful. Awaiting further instructions,” the surly sounding voice of the would-be medic came over the link.
All was quiet as the matter was being considered. There was no more the Autobots could do on their own, and the situation had already surpassed their routine mission protocols.
“Hold your position,” Soundwave stated, then switched the channel to temporary stand-by. He addressed the others in the room. “I advise a full scale alert. Dispatch a security team to the area.”
Vector Prime gave them a nod of approval, and Shockwave confirmed. “Agreed.”
Soundwave reopened the channel. “Stand by. Prepare to receive assistance.”
“Affirmative,” came the reply, before the link was closed.
~~~
Autobots! The Liege thought disgustedly, when he realized what the security monitors had picked up.
He motioned for Megatron to view the monitor images displayed, thanks to the hidden surveillance equipment he had had installed right around the perimeter of the secret post. Nothing would enter or exit his complex without his knowledge.
Now was the perfect opportunity to give this Autobot under his command the chance to be of some real use.
“Proceed to Sector 27 – intercept those Autobots. Bring them to me!” He ordered.
“Yes, Liege,” Megatron replied, and proceeded to leave the Communications Center. Sector 27 was a few levels down. Near the Liege’s personal quarters, to be exact, where he was first awakened.
The Liege kept a very close watch on his underling’s every move. Somehow, he still did not trust him. He did not trust any Autobot for that matter, and never would. Pathetic creatures that they were.
He reconsidered and began to follow the Autobot.
~~~
Megatron approached the Autobots with a little reservation, and curiosity. There were two of them, and neither of them gave any reaction as he entered Sector 27 through a sliding wall panel. He did not wish to harm them, despite his superior’s intentions.
The first Autobot was obviously designed to be repair personnel - a medic. He was predominantly white, with red crosses on his upper arms, which signified his specialty. A view screen was embedded in his chest that no doubt served many useful functions, and the familiar Autobot insignia was placed directly underneath it. He had a white helm with a predominant black chevron at the front.
The Autobot next to him was very similar in design, except for a few differences. He was predominantly red, lacked medic insignia, and his red helm was without adornment. It was difficult to tell by appearance only what his specialty was supposed to be.
Just as Megatron was about to address them, the white one spoke up first, turning to face him.
“Autobot 40-04-12, codename: Megatron. You are required to proceed immediately to Autobot headquarters.”
Interesting, Megatron thought. Had he been like this Autobot before his awakening, so stoic and lifeless?
Megatron was about to reply, when the familiar voice of his commanding officer intervened from behind him. Megatron hadn’t realized he had been followed.
“Belay that order, Autobot,” Liege Maximo sauntered up to the Autobots, and looked down upon them. “Megatron is going nowhere.” He emphasized the name. He seemed to be enjoying this very much – he couldn’t wait for his first Autobot termination, no doubt.
The red robot spoke next. “Unable to comply. Direct orders from Autobot headquarters state –”
The Liege smirked contemptuously, and cut in, not allowing the Autobot to complete his sentence. “Very well, have it your way, then.”
A devilish grin showed upon his merciless features, as he removed a laser weapon from out of a subspace pocket and pointed it at the red protoform.
A few moments were all it took. It happened so unexpectedly that Megatron had had no time to react, let alone to prevent it.
The charred remains of the former Autobot lay on the floor, its head unrecognizable, and its last circuit impulses making its body twitch. It was not salvageable. The powerful blast from the weapon had made the atmosphere crackle with ionization around them, and then a deadly silence permeated the room.
A cold chill seemed to run through Megatron’s internal systems as he tried to make sense of what he had just witnessed: the termination of a cybernetic unit – of a potential life form. But to The Liege, this was all a game, and he appeared unperturbed by his own ghastly action.
“Now, would you care to repeat that order, Autobot?” The Liege had turned to the remaining white protoform, and was addressing it.
It simply stood there for a moment, not responding. The sudden termination of his double did not seem to have affected him. But it did comprehend the imminent danger it was in, having computed the most likely odds of his survival. They were not good.
The Liege Maximo handed his weapon over to Megatron. “Now it’s your turn. Destroy this Autobot.”
Megatron hesitated, looking at the laser weapon in the tyrant’s hand. His processor was still trying to fathom the consequences of the recent termination. He did not want the same thing to happen to him. The remains of Hardtop had now fully ceased functioning, and lay deathly still at their feet. Black scorch marks were etched on the ruined chassis and surrounding floor panels as undeniable evidence of its grim fate. Silence momentarily ensued.
“That is an order. Do it now.” It was obvious that The Liege was beginning to grow impatient, and Megatron realized that he had to make a decision, and soon.
“This Autobot has done nothing wrong. I do not understand why you wish for me to terminate it.” At least that may buy him, and the remaining Autobot, some more time.
“It is not your place to question orders! Now proceed, Autobot scum, or it will be you to have his inner circuitry incinerated beyond recognition!”
Megatron raised the weapon and pointed it at Ratchet. He had run out of time and did not appear to have any choice.
~~~
“What in the flaming name of Primus is going on...?”
Wheeljack could barely believe the view screen display in front of him. A warning light had blinked at them incessantly from the monitoring station only a cycle ago; it indicated a malfunction somewhere along the closed circuit. One of the Autobots’ live feed - Hardtop’s - had gone down. All attempts to revive the link were proving futile.
On the display, all he could pick up was static – no audio, no visual, nothing.
He quickly brought up Ratchet’s feed. It showed a code blue alert, silently being broadcast across all receiving frequencies. Code blue – that was serious. That meant an immediate threat was in the vicinity; a threat of the most dangerous caliber. The signal was being sent silently as a precaution. It meant that Ratchet was operating his com link at the most rudimentary level, to avoid unnecessary interception. It also meant that the visual channel would be cut off to minimize the possibility of a security breach.
However, the backup team had already been dispatched, and they would be arriving in only a few cycles. There was nothing more the team at Iacon could do now, except watch and wait.
~~~
Sentinel did not particularly like being sent on these kinds of missions, but regardless he would perform his duties to the best of his capabilities, primarily for the benefit of Cybertron, and the Transformer race. He was always much happier being the one giving orders, instead of the one carrying them out.
Sentinel’s crew was the only one currently available for immediate dispatch, the urgent request from Iacon having been sent to him. At least the task this time was simple enough: to locate and secure two Autobots, maybe three if they were lucky. He lead his team now, a group of five mechs who specialized in various military ground operations and infiltration, towards the transportation pad that would take them directly outside Sector 27, which was located on the other side of Cybertron.
He had visited Polyhex quite a few times before in his travels, and knew that it was a city as deep and mysterious as any labyrinth he had ever encountered. He much preferred Iacon.
He boarded the pad with his crew, and after a few astro-seconds, they disappeared.
~~~
To be continued...