Transformers: Generation 3 (Now with part 5!)

[The Librarian]

I have at last got my act together and put down the first part of what I hope will be an epic continuation of the G1 and G2 mythos. Set in a universe that trys to gather the (IMO) best parts of the various G1 continuities, it will lead you through a future where the Great War has begun again...

 

 

Housekeeping:

 

In this timeline, the events of the movie took place over a number of years. Starscream actualy had quite a successful stint as Decepticon leader before he got vapourised.

 

I strongly advise reading this prelude first as it will set the scene.

 

I'll get the timeline posted as soon as I find it/ write it out again.

[The Librarian]

Transformers Generation 3: Episode 1:: The Algorithm

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The screen hangs in void, a pearly white sheet awaiting the attentions of some celestial projectionist. And one must have arrived, for images begin to dance across it. A male human appears, standing before a great domed structure.

 

“Earlier today, the Galactic Union here on New Lithone officially recognised Cybertron as a member planet.�

 

The shot of the reporter is replaced by the image of Optimus Prime and Rodimus Prime stepping from a sleek shuttle. Walking beside them is a white and terracotta Micromaster. Awaiting them is a group of dignitaries.

 

“Council representatives from Xethos, Earth, Proxima and New Lithone greeted the two heads of state and their chosen ambassador, Beacon of Paradron.

 

The shot changes to show the Micromaster shaking hands with the councillors.

 

“This acceptance of Cybertron into the GU marks a new era of stability for the formally war torn planet. With the signing of the Charter of Planets, Cybertronians can now look forward to being aided in restoring their culture, as well as shouldering the responsibilities of a trading world.�

 

Again the shot changes, now to show Beacon placing the seal of Cybertron onto the Charter.

 

“Autobot Guardian, Rodimus Prime gave a brief speech�

 

“I am honoured to be present at this momentous event. From this day forward, we march together in peace and prosperity.�

 

The image switches back to the reporter.

 

“There are those who have expressed reservations at Cybertron’s acceptance; the Chintari Empire went as far as issuing a formal complaint. But the mood here today has been one of celebration. Many have echoed the Prime’s words, hailing this as the dawn of a new era in galactic history. How this era will unfold, only time will tell. This is Mark Rutherford, BBC Galactic, New Lithone.�

 

The screen blurs, then settles. The new picture is of a blue and red Cybertronian standing in a verdant park. Metal spires rise in the distance. The Autobot’s expression is solemn.

 

“This is Slamdance reporting from Iacon Central Park. The breaking news story is that Rodimus Prime, holder and wielder of the Matrix, has vanished. He entered his rooms late last night and has not been seen since.�

The screen shows a shot of an empty office. A flame-decorated shield dominates the wall above a real wood desk. Data pads are strewn across the surface, undisturbed by the security officers fussing over the room.

 

“The guards neither saw nor heard anything and there is no evidence of a struggle or other foul play. It is, as one officer said, as if Rodimus has been teleported into the void. The authorities are staying closed processor about the exact circumstances of this crisis, but it would appear that they are as much in the dark as anyone.�

 

The shot switches back to Slamdance.

 

“They have, however, confirmed that the Matrix itself has not been taken and once more resides within Optimus Prime, champion of Iacon and, it seems, leader of Cybertron once more. An official press conference is expected within the cycle, though it is doubtful whether fresh evidence will have come to light. At a time when rumours are rife concerning new Decepticon activity, this is a heavy blow for the Autobot administration…�

 

The screen goes blank. Time marches on.

 

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Clang. Clang. Clang.

The footsteps echo through the cavernous tunnels, the sound rebounding off the bare girders and armoured conduits. Turbo rats scuttle for cover, startled by the sudden noise.

Clang. Clang. Clunk.

 

Xaaron stopped. It was astonishing that he had not stopped sooner. Astonishing, in fact, that he was still alive. Yet ancient as he was, he was tough. Impactor’s training in battlefield survival had paid off. When the chaos of the planetary restorations had dropped him into the maze of tunnels beneath Cybertron’s surface, he had been able to lessen the impact through use of a force-bubble projector he still carried at all times. He would have siphoned energy from one of the many power cables but for some reason, the air was alive with energy. Thus, it had sustained him, infusing his old body with new life and keeping him moving through the dark caverns.

 

Not that it had really mattered. His fall, as swift as it had seemed, had dropped him too far down to communicate with the surface and too far up to reach the spacebridge ring around the Core. He also had a feeling that the planet itself had continued re-shaping during his stay down there, moving him further away from help. The only thing he had been able to do was walk on and on in the hope that rescuers would be forthcoming. For over five years it had been one long trudge. And now, his persistence seemed to have paid off.

 

Xaaron started forward again, passing under a strange and ornate archway. The structure he entered was filled with light, light that was reflected into infinity by thousands upon thousands of mirrored surfaces. He curiously tapped the nearest and was astonished to watch as the digit sank into it.

“Interesting…�

The chamber was circular, curved around a central dais. It was like being inside a vast crystal. The teachings of ancient priests forced their way to the forefront of his mind and he nearly ran for it. But his self-control drove him onward. As the former emirate moved closer, a point of light began to form above the platform. Simultaneously, a figure faded into being before it. A very familiar figure.

“Trion.�

 

Alpha Trion stepped into reality, his cobalt and coral form shining in the brilliant light.

“Welcome, Xaaron.�

“I would say this was a surprise, but frankly, I think I lost the capacity to be amazed by you a long time ago.�

The ancient being chuckled and extended a hand in welcome.

“Come forward, I have something to show you.�

 

The light above the dais had by now resolved itself into a glowing sphere.

“I take it that that is the fabled Vector Sigma,� commented the golden mech as he advanced.

“You are not impressed?�

“Another faculty I appear to have been deprived of. What game are you playing now, Trion?�

“I play no other game than that of existence.�

“You are a sanctimonious interference who uses his immortality to lord it over the rest of us. But don’t let the words of a mere emirate interrupt your no doubt inordinately incomprehensible tidings of doom.�

The guardian smiled in amusement.

“Time does not heal all wounds, does it?�

“Get on with it!� snapped Xaaron, “Then you can get me back to the surface.�

“Of course. Please, be seated.�

“I will stand, thank you.�

 

“So be it.� Alpha Trion marshalled his thoughts. “A great threat looms over our world.�

“Another one? Oh, sorry. Do go on.�

“A threat that is far more deadly than any other. A threat that has been with us for millennia.�

 

He waved a hand towards Vector Sigma. The surface of the sphere melted into a view of space. In the far distance, a tiny green light flared into existence. With a smooth, steady motion, it progressed across the void until it was off ‘screen’. The sphere faded back to gold.

“And that indicates what? A new shooting star?�

“That light was the return to our galaxy of a being whose who existence is dedicated to its downfall.�

 

Xaaron tapped his foot.

“You can tell all that from that image?�

“The flare itself was felt on many more plains than that of the physical world. It can be nothing less. Besides which, recent events speak for themselves.�

“Events?�

“During the PEC crisis, Optimus Prime and seven other heroes of the past were resurrected.�

“Prime? How?�

“The power of Vector Sigma was able to reach through the time rifts and draw sparks to the present. I channelled it to allow it to restore eight beings that could stop the destruction. In reality, they never died. Their sparks were simply displaced. Since that day, Cybertron has enjoyed a new Golden Age.�

“And you say that current events allude to a threat?�

“Dark forces have begun to move against our world. The Matrix guardian has been taken by chaos and the carefully knit peace has begun to unravel.�

“Guardian…taken? Rodimus? Rodimus has been…kidnapped?�

“Yes. Vector Sigma can no longer trace him. More, the plains of reality are beginning to destabilise. The barriers that hold back the destroyer are weakening.�

“And this threat is causing all this? I see. What form does this ‘threat’ take?�

 

“One being, carved from chaos, set to be the nemesis of us all. You are aware of the history of our creation?�

“The battle between Primus and Unicron. Of course� Xaaron frowned slightly. “Though I would prefer you to explain what you mean in something resembling modern speech.�

Trion ignored him.

“Shortly after the battle between the Fallen and the First Ones, Unicron sought a means of extracting revenge for his defeat. He was far too weak to fight himself, so he required an agent. To this end he forged a creature to be his champion. Out of spite, he fashioned it after the Children of Primus, imbuing it with immense strength and physical power. What is more, he granted it the ability to draw on the very source of his own power, the Heart of Chaos itself. Then he set it loose to be his hand in the universe while he slept. While we were created to sow peace, it was sent to sow conflict. Where we sought harmony, it sought discord. It has plotted and planned ever since, controlling many puppets, all its efforts dedicated to the fall of order.�

 

He stopped as Xaaron he up a hand.

“I’m sorry, but this is getting ridiculous. I know our ‘mythology’ is remarkably accurate, if poetic, but are you seriously saying that there is one being, one ‘herald’ of Unicron out there running a grand scheme to tear down the universe? I cannot deny that immortals exist; I’m talking to one, but for Primus’ sake… And besides, if it wants rid of us, why not attack us directly? Something as powerful as you describe must be more than a match for our race. Or is it afraid of the Matrix, like its master?�

�Cybertron is not the universe. The nemesis was not designed simply as the destroyer of our race. It was designed to exact revenge on Primus as much as the First Ones. Thus, it set out to tear down the universe our creator fought so hard to protect. Thus, it has uses for us in its plans.�

“‘Uses’. You mean it has influenced our history?�

“Of course. And why, Xaaron, do you question what you have seen?�

The question sent him into a stunned silence.

“Do you not remember the death of Magus Prime?�

 

It would have been near impossible to forget.

 

Xaaron had run to the Prime’s chambers, the scream that has filled his sensors drawing him as a moth to flame. He and Gravitas had broken down the door to find

Magus lying there, his body pallid, his face contorted in a look of absolute terror. Gravitas had knelt by the body, searching for some glimmer of life. Xaaron had activated his weapons and scanned the room, searching for the murderer. And just for a moment, there had been a figure, obscured by the gloom, standing looking back at the dead Prime. A tall, gaunt figure with a pale face and cold emerald optics. It had looked straight at Xaaron and smiled a thin, grim smile. Then it was as if it had never been and he had shunted the image aside as sensor fluctuation. Until now.

 

“It is never seen until it is far too late.�

Trion’s words jolted him back to the present.

“It was able to kill a Prime.�

“The power of the Matrix stings it but cannot overcome it.�

“But just one Prime. Why him?� He stopped, then answered his own question. “It was not who, it was how and when. No Prime had died that suddenly before. Even the poison that did for poor Guardian was slow acting. The chaos of finding Sentinel. The system was caught on the back foot. And then…�

 

“Megatron,� completed the ancient, “And a fractured Cybertron to spread a war throughout the cosmos. The greatest irony.�

“Getting us to do its dirty work. You make it sound far more dangerous than Unicron himself.�

“In a way, it is. Unicron is on a scale far beyond us. He is a Chaos God and we will always unite against him. But the Nemesis fights us on our own ground. And it fights to win.�

 

Xaaron considered the vast threats Cybertron had faced. The Quintessons. The Hub Empire. Unicron’s physical form. All had been defeated through the unity of their race. But the factions that had grown from within: the Destrons, the Decepticons. They had nearly brought about the destruction of the Autobots.

“‘The smallest fault wrecks the machine’.�

Xaaron gave in.

“Very well! You’ve convinced me. As usual,� he added, the old bitterness welling up again. “How can we fight it?�

 

“Already, plans are in motion to draw it out of hiding. Once in the open, we should be able to find a way to defeat it. So much of its power depends on it remaining an enigma. All I ask of you is to take what I have told you to Prime.�

“Why not go yourself?�

“I must remain here and oversee a process that will give us the edge in the coming struggle.�

Before Xaaron could ask any of the million and one questions that had formed in his mind, Trion reached a hand towards Vector Sigma. A string of symbols coiled out from it and hung in the air.

 

“This is the Primus Algorithm. Think of it was a program that controls the evolution of our race. And it is time for it to be used once more. Our race is about to advance, Xaaron. We will become stronger, faster, better protected against the forces of chaos.�

A cynical retort died on Xaaron’s lips as Vector Sigma grew even brighter and the symbols began to whirl and expand, growing outwards until they became a wave of raw power, eclipsing even those that had restored the world. The Autobot’s vision was immersed in a mass of swarming numbers. And he changed.

 

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The amber glow of the city lights laced Optimus’ armour with fire. He let himself relax. Elita rested against his side. Her crimson frame was equally at ease. Together, sitting atop the Tower of Iacon, they were enjoying the first moment’s rest in weeks. The calm silence continued for a few more minutes before Prime tentatively broke it.

“How is Arcee?�

“Coping as far as anyone could tell from the outside. Broken inside. If not for Springer, I doubt she would survive. She would be out looking for Rodimus, but there’s nowhere to start.�

Optimus nodded. He felt hopelessly lost whenever he thought about his friend’s disappearance. But he had the luxury of official commitments to distract him. He was still responsible for their people. Still the one looked to for leadership. There were the colonies to manage, the GU relations to reinforce, the Decepticons to keep down.

 

A wry smile flitted over his masked face. How little attention he had to pay them now, despite the rumours the press were so fond of drumming up. Megatron was gone. Galavtron had proved a poor replacement. Thunderwing had vanished and Shockwave was presumed dead after the devastation that Unicron had wrought. After the PEC, the rank and file Decepticons seemed to have fled in hopeless panic. Even Scorponok’s troops were abiding by the uneasy peace treaty on Nebulos. But the shadows of the past still clawed at him from his dreams…

“Stop it.�

Elita tightened her grip on his arm.

“You’re thinking again.�

“What do you mean?�

“You know what. Over the past five years, you and Rodimus have solidified the treaty, watched over Cybertron and sent the ‘cons scattering. There are now fifty-six colonies, each one a living, thriving community. We’re bringing life back to the Wastes. The first protos on Theta were neo-formed yesterday. So don’t sully the memories of those who gave their lives for this future by always blaming yourself for everything that you have no control over. And we will find Rodimus. I know it.�

“But you said yourself, there’s nowhere to start.�

“Nowhere to start looking. Now leave the worrying to Magnus and Grimlock for a while, because it will do them good, hold onto me and watch the city go by. You can get back to being the noble leader tomorrow.�

 

As he did, Prime could not help his mood lightening. Elita was right. As always. He was no use to anyone if he was a mass of worry and fear. The femme sighed contentedly.

“That’s better. Fate and the destiny of the Primes can go hang for a while.�

 

An incessant beeping came from her wrist. Prime’s eyes narrowed.

“As Jackpot is so fond of saying: ‘Wanna bet?’�

Elita grimaced and triggered the communicator.

“One here and this had better be good.�

“This is Trailbreaker. Sorry to mess up the evening but Moonracer’s shuttle’s just de-warped and it’s in trouble.�

“On my way.�

 

Prime was already standing up, sweeping her into his arms and leaping towards the expressway far below, VOTAL jets flaring. Even before the first alarms began to echo from the spaceport, the Prime and the One were racing towards the landing strip.

 

Inferno leaped down onto the massive metal and stone plain, barrels of fire retardant clamped in his arms. A host of Micromasters were moving a motion-arrester net into place across the runway. Windcharger stood on the observation platform, training the scanners on a rapidly descending arrow of fire.

“Antigrav field at maximum!� barked the console, “Shuttle ETA, half a breem!�

“Understood control,� replied the red Autobot. He glanced down at Inferno. “Hurry it up! Half a breem left!�

 

The fire control mech did not respond but redoubled his efforts to fit the canisters into a spray cannon.

“I wish the Protectobots were here now,� he murmured.

“Well they’re gone,� grunted Trailbreaker from the operator’s seat, “And Moonracer’s crew will be as well if we’re not ready.�

“Done!� came the shouted response as the canisters snapped firmly into place.

“Shuttle arrival imminent!� boomed Control.

“Here it comes!� echoed Windcharger.

 

The spacecraft plummeted. Its hull was scorched and blackened. Its wings had been torn to ribbons. Exposed circuitry flared beneath the flame that was gushing from its underbelly. It hit the antigrav field and was haloed with blue sparks. Its inertia began to soak away. The ship slowed.

 

But the impact on the landing strip still boomed out like the scream of a wounded animal. The spray cannons opened up immediately, trying to drown the flames in cooling foam. It was not enough. Plasma from the reactor was venting madly and it was clear that it was winning the battle.

 

Inferno transformed and joined Redhot, Roadburner, Wheelblaze and a dozen other emergency mechs in reinforcing the cannons.

“Rescue crews! Move in!�

The group of armoured Autobots dashed across, aiming for the main hatchway. Suddenly, the doors were blasted outwards in a rush of fire and smoke. Vroom leapt down, cradling an unconscious Override. His Pretender shell followed, supporting a battered Backstreet.

“Most of the crew’s still in there!� he shouted, “And there’s a bunch of civilians in the rear section!�

 

With a thunderous screech of brakes, a red and blue lorry and a crimson sports car drew up beside the cannons.

“The rear section’s doused in radiation!� yelled one of the rescuers.

Optimus Prime transformed, his trailer closing around him in combination.

“Elita, take a group into the command areas and get the crew out. Trailbreaker, you and the rescue teams come with me. We’ll use the aft cargo hatches. Move!�

 

As Optimus lead the way to the heavy rear doors, Elita and a squad of Omnibots hauled themselves into the fore access corridor. Smoke billowed through the passageways. They found two barely alive mechs in the wardroom and passed them back to the waiting medics. Elita reached the cockpit first and forced her way through the sparking controls. Moonracer lay slumped against the pilot’s console, Pincher and Doubleheader equally comatose in the co-pilots’ seats. Small explosions waged war throughout the cabin. Camshaft attacked the flames with an extinguisher rifle while Downshift and Overdrive helped the femme commander haul the crew from their seats. Moonracer was deathly still, her energy signature very weak. Suddenly there was a tearing sound from the doorway. Elita registered the falling blast door, leapt and caught it across her shoulders.

“Get them out of here!� she hollered, servos beginning to heat as she strained against the ship’s maddened death throes, “Now!�

 

From the safety of the observation platform, Windcharger watched in horror as the shuttle began to tear itself apart. Explosions washed across its hull, growing more and more intense. The rescue teams had not emerged and were rapidly in danger of being trapped inside the dying ship. Some premonition seized him. He jumped down to the ground and dashed across the intervening space, threading his way through the gathered Mobile Autobot Repair Bays. Slowly, unstoppably, the forward section of the shuttle began to collapse inwards, its inner structure stressed beyond breaking point. Without stopping, Windcharger raised his arms towards the craft and yelled to the medics to hit the deck. The nearly molten hull plates began to bulge outwards again, caught by the mech’s magnetic powers. Seconds later, Elita and the Omnibots sprinted clear. Of Prime’s team there was no sign. And it was too late. Energeon from the fuel tanks finally burst free of its armoured prison, mixing instantly with burning plasma. The resulting blast knocked everyone off their feet and consumed the shuttle in a blaze of fire. The explosive cocktail burned up its fuel in seconds and subsided, leaving only warped, unrecognisable shards of metal, a large crater…and the familiar shimmer of Trailbreaker’s force field. Behind the protective dome crouched Optimus Prime, the rescue mechs, seven heavily damaged civilians and the tired defence tactician himself.

 

The last of the MARBs were pulling back as the assembled rescuers gathered around the remarkably intact Vroom. His Pretender shell having taken most of the damage, its occupant had escaped with only minor armour fractures, one of which Fixit was currently patching up. Floodlights illuminated the sorry wreckage strewn over the crash site.

“It was a ‘con raiding party,� he was saying, “Jumped us near Karabah. The Terrocons and a bunch of Sweeps. The civilians got cut off in the hold when Hungurr munched on the access tube and brought the blast doors down. We did our best to drive them off but they were too well organised. They’d have siphoned the tanks dry if Moonracer hadn’t thrown us into ‘warp. And that really slagged the crate. How is she?�

“Alive. It’ll be some time before she fully recovers.� Elita glanced at the brooding figure of Prime. “This was no desperate strike for a few astro-litres of fuel. If they’ve got bold enough and organised enough to risk attacking a fully crewed shuttle on such a well travelled trade route…�

Optimus inclined his head.

“I have a feeling that this may be linked to something Beacon told me about. Rumours of space pirates hounding New Lithonian merchants –� His head snapped round. “Can any of you hear that?�

“Hear what, Prime?� Fixit frowned up at the red and blue giant.

“Some kind of…voice…reading numbers… Great Primus!�

 

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The wave of light erupted from Cybertron’s surface. It passed onwards and outwards, accelerating beyond the speed of thought. On and on it drove into the vacuum of space, leaving stillness in its wake.

 

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Galvatron sank back into his throne, thinking. Recently, this had become a more and more regular occurrence. Ever since he had reawakened two years previously, he had been changed. Gone were the insane fits of anger and the delusions of a broken mind. In their place was a ruthless, cold determination to restore the Decepticon Empire. At least, that was what the troops saw, what was presented to those who had abandoned the former Unicronian during his insanity. But in the privacy of his chambers, away from the meagre forces that remained on Charr, alone with the dark depths of his mind, he knew that some part of his madness remained. There was turmoil at the heart of his cerebral circuits. It was as if there were three personas inside his CPU, each with a stake on the body they inhabited.

 

There was his own, the one that currently dominated. Wholly individual yet riddled with the seeds of its own destruction, the remains of the torture he had endured at the hands of his creator. These seeds were only held in check by the safeguards created during his Matrix induced sleep. He had no doubt that it had been the Matrix. What else?

 

Then there was the vast, chaotic and, thankfully, dormant ghost of Unicron. He was marked by that. Marked as a harbinger of the dark one. But it was nearly dead now, weakened by time and distance. Yet it was present and the fear that it could awake was just as real.

 

And finally, there was…the other. Shade of a past existence, maddened by captivity, screaming and screaming in undying rage. The knowledge that that personality existed, that it was in some sense more pure than he had driven him mad before. Might it again? Feeling his thoughts touch upon it, it reared up and tried once more to tear him down. Once more, the safeguards within his mind battered it back.

 

Frustrated, Galvatron rose from the throne and stalked over to the mirror that dominated the front of the chamber. He had had it fitted in order to make sure he could see his troop’s backs when they were in his company. He understood that that command had nearly given the Constructicons apoplexy over getting the materials. He had not cared. Nor had he cared about the Terrocons’ excesses or the Predacons’ loyalty. Nor had he cared about the Stunticons. Alas, poor Menasor.

 

He regarded his reflection and a twinge of shame passed through him. To be replaced almost immediately by anger. Why should he pander to the ghosts of the past? Here and now, he was Galvatron, Decepticon Supreme Commander! Not…not…

 

He forced himself to lower his cannon. No more of that. Their resources were still far too limited to endure another rampage. Odd though. For a moment, a shape had appeared behind his reflection. A vague shadow that had no place in reality. As he re-examined his indigo and grey image, it returned. Ghosting before him was the clear shape of a basic Cybertronian endoskeleton. He recalled the events on the barren moon of Tryptic several months earlier.

“Starscream? Is that you? Are you here to haunt me because Unicron reanimated you in the same solar system as me? Or are you seeking another host?�

 

The image made no reply. Instead, circuitry and armour began to crawl over it, shaping it. And in that moment of fascination, Galvatron felt a stinging pain as the other persona reared up. Not in anger but in blind panic. And incredibly, Unicron’s mark began to howl, the piercing cry of the doomed and the dying.

 

The roar of his particle cannon echoed throughout the base but he barely noticed, just desperately clawed at his cranium, trying to physically tear the pain from it. Then there was light and numbers and nothingness.

 

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On and on went the light. It raced past Charr. It swept over the colonies. It embraced a large ship heading in the opposite direction. It tossed itself carelessly into a forbidding space platform. It brushed over the Sol system, catching a tiny spark of life in its wake. On and on it went. On into infinity.

 

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The Iacon landing strip was silent and still. Where the Autobots had been were massive crystals, like vast calcified chrysalises. Each was roughly shaped like the being it had replaced. There was a whisper of movement. Cracks began to spread across the smallest. In a burst of powered crystal, Fixit shook himself free. Beside him, Vroom also shattered his mineral shell. Doctor and patient looked at one another for a moment, sharing a look of disbelief. The Pretender spoke first.

“You look different.�

“So do you. What in Primus was that?�

“Search me.�

 

With two loud cracks, Inferno escaped as well. There were noticeable and extensive changes to his appearance. He shook his head as if to clear it of cobwebs.

“I feel really weird…�

From all over the city came the sound of breaking crystal, closely followed by voices raised in disbelief. As one, the Autobots present on the landing pad turned to face the crystals presumably encasing Optimus and Elita. And almost instantly, the clean white surfaces were broken open. There was a moment of absolute silence.

 

“Elita…?� began Prime.

“Optimus…?�

They caught sight of the others. The Autobot leader touched his chest panel, feeling the cool throb of the Matrix. Beneath armour that now resembled that of the body he had been granted when he had first taken up the device.

“I have a feeling that assembling the full council would be a very good idea.�

 

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The corridor outside Galvatron’s throne room was silent, occupied by three crystalline forms. There was slow, drawn out creak and the largest broke open to reveal Cyclonus. The sleek lines of his powerful body were somehow sharper, the angles on his armour more pronounced. He felt stronger and somehow…purer? He inclined his head to look at the two smaller ‘statues’. In violent motions, winged warriors burst from them. Skywarp staggered against Thundercracker and the two Seekers stared back at the indigo figure before them with twin looks of astonishment. They managed to pull themselves together and dragged their bodies to attention.

“Err…we were rushing to…get help when we heard Gal – Lord Galvatron’s cannon go off,� said an evidently dazed Thundercracker, “and something…happened…�

 

Cyclonus’ voice was carefully devoid of the contempt he felt for the laser brained avian.

“Evidently. Some force has acted upon us, changed us. It is imperative that we –�

“Whoa! Slagging awesome!�

The horned lieutenant stopped his turn towards the throne room. Skywarp had transformed. A purple and black space fighter hovered in the corridor, bristling with guns. He hurriedly returned to robot mode and took a step back from his superior’s icy glare.

“I – I mean, just testing the new body.�

“Hm.�

 

The sound of running feet came along the passageway. Scourge and Soundwave came into view, both changed as well. Their bodies had become sleeker and more deadly looking.

“Cyclonus! We are free of him!�

The huntsman’s voice was tinged with something the air warrior would have almost considered joy.

“Scourge?�

The clawed Decepticon pointed to his chest.

“Can you not feel it? We are purified! Unicron’s control influence…it has finally been destroyed!�

Soundwave’s monotone broke into the speech.

“Unknown energy wave has restructured our physical forms. Scans indicate widespread effects. Registered spark signatures appear…stronger.�

Cyclonus did not acknowledge the interruption.

“Yes…I feel it. Our sparks…they have been unbound…wait…�

 

He whirled.

“What of Lord Galvatron?�

There was instant hush. Then the throne room doors quietly slid aside. A deep, powerful voice came from the gloom within.

“‘And so the sleeping warrior was awakened to lead the armies of the true way against the strongholds of the false prophets.’�

“The Covenant of Primus…� whispered Thundercracker.

 

A pair of burning optics ignited in the darkness.

“Poetic nonsense,� sneered the voice, “yet oddly fitting.�

Two echoing footfalls and the figure stepped into the light. Silver armour gleamed. A dull black weapon rested on its right arm. The helmet and face were unmistakable.

 

“Galvatron no longer, Cyclonus.� Megatron raised his left hand to touch the symbol on his chest. “But Decepticon forever.�

 

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Next: The Hammer

[The Librarian]

First off, I hope you enjoyed that. Please post any comments, critisisms, mistakes you've noticed etc. I really need feedback on this one. :thumb

 

 

Now, some comments from me:

 

This has been in the works for some time. If you'd like to see how I envision the G3 TFs, pop over to the galleries and search for 'Generation 3'.

 

I know the BBC Galactic joke was a bit poor (as my brother pointed out) but I like to think that 'Auntie' will be around for a few centuries yet.

 

I also know that bringing Megatron back has been done many times, many ways before. On that score, I have some tricks up my sleeve.

 

And finally, before anyone accuses me of Deus Ex Machina, I'd like to point out that Cybertron is as big an example of God inside the machine as your're likely to get.

 

:thumb

[Optimus3000]

Oh man, that's good stuff! I'm so glad you found a way to bring back Megatron. Galvatron could never compare to Megatron, and the power boost Galvy got into Megs was a great way to say just that!

 

I'm kinda sad there's not more. Must read more! Write more!

 

Seriously, dude, awesome work. I can't wait for the next installment.  :clap  :clap  :clap

[The Librarian]

Well, thanks and sorry for not replying sooner.  :thumb

 

This is just a note to say episode 2 has begun to come together and should be up in a few weeks, the slight problem of A-level exams slowly prgress somewaht.

 

A preview:

 

The Nemesis makes its first move...

 

Megatron strikes...

 

And the Autobots face the consequences of the Algorithm...

[The Librarian]

And now...Episode 2!

 

Enjoy  :thumb

 

 

 

Transformers Generation 3: Episode 2:: The Hammer

 

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“Well I don’t know!�

Clawhammer threw up his arms in a show of helplessness. K’lith found it hard to consider a robot six times bigger than he was as helpless but the Autobot seemed genuinely astonished at his condition. He could join the club. Here they were, the crew of the Beldame, a simple merchant ship transporting minerals to a Cybertronian colony, when bam! Three days out from Xethos and some weird energy wave zips through the sector, leaving their cream coloured metallic pal encased in a crystal shell. He then breaks out with a totally changed body structure.

 

Well… K’lith had to concede that the changes were not that extensive. The mech still had that ridiculously long right arm and the bucket shaped head. But his lifter alternate form was far sleeker and he seemed to have grown bigger in robot mode. And, naturally, the great lug had absolutely no idea what had happened to him.

 

The green skinned engineer shook his head.

“In any case, we’re trying to contact the colony to see if they know anything about it.�

Clawhammer smiled wanly.

“Thanks.� He looked absently around the vast hold. “I ran every diagnostic I could think of. Every test and exercise…�

“And?�

“In short? I feel great! Every system working at maximum efficiency. I’m just a work mech but I feel like I could take on a horde of Sharkticons. How could an ‘energy wave’ do all that?�

“Search me. I’m amazing this bucket’s sensors actually picked it up. It was moving damned fast.�

“The speed of thought…� There was an odd tone in Clawhammer’s voice.

“Eh?�

 

A chime interrupted them.

“K’lith here, captain.�

“Can you get up here?� buzzed the commlink, “We’re picking something up off the starboard bow. It looks like…�

“Captain?�

“It’s a ship! Small, but definitely a warp capable ship – wait! These readings don’t make sense – dear gods!�

“Captain! What –�

 

The Beldame shook. K’lith and Clawhammer were bowled over. A shriek of tortured metal echoed through the ship. The side of the hold caved inwards then blew outwards. The Autobot caught the Xethon and shielded him from the decompression. A flickering green light filled the space outside. A predatory shape glided towards the gash. Abruptly, Clawhammer’s optics shorted out, along with most of the freighter’s systems.

 

When his sight returned, the hold was lit with a dull yellow glow. The stacked crates, restrained by their mag-grips, cast eerie shadows across the walls. The broken bulkhead was covering in the telltale shimmer of an atmospheric restraint field. K’lith stirred.

“Urgh…what the M’orlth was that?

Clawhammer gently lowered him to the deck.

“I think you had better get out of here. Now.�

“What – why?�

“Just go.�

 

The Autobot slowly advanced into the gloom. The engineer frowned after him, then hurried to the hatchway. He shivered, the decompression having drained the heat from the chamber, and punched the opening switch. Nothing happened. He stabbed the control again. Still the door remained firmly shut. There was a flicker from the nearest light and its glow dropped further.

 

With a snort of annoyance, K’lith reached for his communicator and turned to shout back to Clawhammer. And, not at all because of the temperature, froze. The figure that loomed above him could not be mistaken for the Autobot in any light. It seemed nearly twice as big, its black armour reflecting the emergency lights hellishly. Its pallid face was tilted so that its burning green optics were focused directly upon him. How eyes like that could belong to any creature, machine or otherwise… They seethed with a power far beyond material comprehension. The apparition spoke, a strangely soft and melodious sound.

“Organic being. Reptilian in descent, I see. Irrelevant�

“W – w – what?� K’lith managed to stutter.

“You are irrelevant,� responded the creature, “You, on the other hand, are not.�

 

There was a blur of motion as the thing’s right arm shot into the shadows and suddenly it held Clawhammer, a talon-like hand curled around his neck. The green optics flared.

“Intriguing. Rerouted internal structures. More efficient systems. Faster reacting motive units.�

Its other hand came round to hover over its captive’s torso. There was a sharp crack and the metal skin began to peel back. K’lith watched in horror as circuit boards and gears slid smoothly out to float around their owner’s body. Clawhammer screamed then was cut off.

“Ah, of course. Reinforced spark chamber. Better equipped to defend itself.� The thing made a hissing sound that might have been a chuckle. “Something of a risk to take given their history. Still, this will delay me. For a short while.�

 

With that, Clawhammer’s body was discarded like a broken tool, crashing down amid his own internals as they dropped with him. The intruder seemed to have lost all interest in him and walked slowly to the hole through which it must have come. K’lith struggle over to his friend’s broken frame, trying hard not to wretch. There was still a dim glow in his optics. Dear gods! He was still alive!

 

The apparition stared out through the hole for a moment. Then in one fluid motion it became a sleek spacecraft of some kind. There was a blaze of green fire. And it was gone.

 

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Dawn on Theta Varos Seven Two Point Four was normally something of a none event, the near permanent rain clouds usually impenetrable to something as ethereal as light. Today however, the grey skies had parted to let new born golden rays shine down on the small collection of silvery buildings nestling among the cliffs. Someway to the west, Sprocket cursed as her grip on the slippery rocks shifted uncomfortably. The first real dawn in a year and a half and she was going to miss it. If she could just pull herself onto the ridge…no, it was no use. Primus take it, why did she have to be a dune buggy? Why not a jet? Or even a balloon?

 

A loud clatter from above accompanied the arrival of a red and silver helicopter.

“Need some help?� it called down cheerfully.

“You might say that…� she replied through gritted dental plates.

“Hold on!�

There was a series of clicks as the copter transformed. The solidly built mech swooped down, wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted the green and gold femme onto the ridge.

 

Sprocket dusted herself down then turned to her rescuer.

“Thanks Quickstrike.�

“My pleasure.� He grinned. “It’s just like you to climb all the way up here to watch the sun rather than sit on the observation deck with the rest of us.�

“I like the peace and quiet.� She looked across to where the sun was crawling over the far peaks. “I can be… closer to the land.�

Again, Quickstrike grinned.

“All this upgrading lark hasn’t shifted those crazy notions of yours, has it?�

“Why should it have?�

 

She sighed and sat down. After a moment, the mech joined her.

“Isn’t it beautiful?� she asked wistfully.

“It’s a sun rise.�

“But it’s so much more! The dawn of a new day! A clean file to fill with new experiences and wonders!�

“On Theta Varos?�

“Anywhere and everywhere!�

 

It was Quickstrike’s turn to sigh.

“Now I know you’re nuts.� He regarded the sun. “It’s a ball of hydrogen hanging in space. It’s no different from any over mid-sized star.�

“So?�

“So! So, there’s no point waxing lyrical about it! It seems to rise, it seems to set, the illusion of days and nights carries on. There’s nothing magical about it.�

“Your trouble, Quickstrike, is that you’re a warrior through and through. You have no soul.�

“And you’re trouble is…is…� He trailed off. “Can you see that?�

“See what?�

“There’s something moving, just outside of the corona. I think it’s a ship.�

 

Sprocket followed his pointing finger, her own macro-focal units activating. “There aren’t any scheduled.�

“I know –�

A loud wail, the warning siren, rose from the base behind them. The two Autobots exchanged glances.

“Uh oh…�

 

The siren echoed throughout the colony.

“Unidentified ship on descent curve, commander. Decepticon energy signatures detected.� The technician looked up from his console, his face displaying fear. “All off-world communications being jammed.�

Duoclouder swore.

“Overrun, Rollout, get the guns on line. All defence teams to action stations. All non-essential personnel to the bunkers.�

The blue armoured commander strode to the observation window. The ship was clearly visible now, a black shape blazing out of the rising sun. The base’s two heavy defence cannons rose from their silos and swivelled to lock onto the craft, eager for it to come into range. Groups of now armed Autobots took their positions, ready to deal with any Decepticons who fled the destruction of their ship. Every weapon in the colony was pointed squarely at the attacker.

 

And then the Decepticons struck from behind. Objectively it was a brilliantly simple piece of misdirection. Launch a decoy along the obvious attack route – diving onto the sun blinded side of the target – while the actual assault force sneaked down from the other side under a sensor shroud.

 

To the Autobots, most unused to battle, it was as if the blasts of fire and death had come from nowhere. One of the defence guns was blown apart, its barrel spinning end over end into the sky. The first wave of Sweeps laid down a barrage of laser bolts that sent those who survived it racing for cover.

 

Duoclouder let out a cry of horror then leapt aside as the window was shattered by a sonic boom. Sleek aircraft screamed past. It took him a moment to realise that they had basic ‘con Seeker body structures, but of a more angular, more deadly looking variety. Clearly the ‘upgrading wave’ had struck them as well.

 

He jumped through the gaping hole, yelling back at the technicians to get the comms back, rifle blasting. His retro rockets boomed and he transformed. His missile truck mode slammed into the already broken surface of the main courtyard. Targeting sensors locked and he launched a cloud of disruptor missiles. Two Autobots rushed up to flank him.

“Backstop, Outback, cover me!�

The two sent a volley of energy blasts skywards as Duoclouder ploughed his way through the wreckage, hit a rise, transformed and launched himself into the air. His fists collided with a Sweep’s forward hull. He back flipped over it, rejuvenated servos barely straining with the effort. With a backhanded swipe he smashed another of the wedge shaped attackers away and transformed again, this time to his hawk mode. Around him, the Autobot fliers were finally getting their act together, their new strength allowing them to match the Decepticons.

 

We’ll make it yet, he thought, we’ll just make it. Now if they could just find the source of the jamming signal –

 

Duoclouder swore harder than ever. In the rush of the attack he had forgotten about the ‘decoy’ shuttle. It had landed now, a dagger of indigo metal. And it had disgorged a squad of Decepticon ground troops. The vast figure of Bruticus rose as the Combaticons combined. The Constructicons swarmed forward, firing as they came. The Battlechargers careened towards the base. And leading the charge…

 

The Autobot commander could not believe his optics. Would not. It was impossible! It had to be! A thousand nightmares came back to him as he watched the huge, silver, treaded cannon advance unstoppably over the landscape. The defenders’ blasts glanced harmlessly off it. It made no attempt to dodge them. Indeed, as its main barrel began to elevate, it seemed to be ignoring them. Duoclouder tried to launch himself towards it, desperate to do something, anything to stop it. But a Seeker’s rifle found its mark on his right flank and he was forced to bank away. And then it was too late.

 

The cannon’s blast rent the sky. It struck the central tower and kept going. The upper levels of the structure were vaporised in an instant. Now the cannon turned its attention to the shocked Autobots who had been firing at it. A second barrel rotated into place. It was over in seconds, the soldiers dead in a hail of shells. Duoclouder snapped, rage flooding into his every circuit. He dived, firing every weapon he possessed. And hurtled to his doom.

 

Megatron transformed and regarded the plunging Autobots bird. Its blasts were erratic, its accuracy gone in a haze of avenging wrath. The Decepticon commander smiled grimly. He had hoped his attack would make him the centre of attention. With almost lazy contempt, he sent a bolt of energy slicing through his opponent’s left wing. Now unable to stop its plunge, the Autobot tried to transform. Megatron jumped to meet it and caught the bird’s head, twisting hard. They impacted together, ploughing into the dirt. He stood, undamaged, amazed again at what his new body could withstand. The felled warrior flapped feebly, body broken beyond repair, fluids leaking slowly away.

 

With a vicious, savage, elated grin, Megatron stamped down on the wrecked mech. He was alive again. And in his place. The battlefield. His home. The familiar lust for death rose into his spark. He began to advance into the midst of the continuing conflict. Then his logic circuits reasserted themselves. No. He was not here to indulge himself.

 

Above, Thundercracker and Skywarp wheeled as they had on Cybertron so long ago, working in unison to cut swathes through the Autobot’s meagre air forces, a deadly dance that brought death to those caught within it. Cyclonus and Scourge, the unknown quantities, thundered by. He was most impressed with them. They did not bother with finesse, simply pounding away at their enemies, unrelenting predators, Decepticons to the core.

 

Megatron strode forward, not towards the main bulk of the remaining defenders but towards a group of half buried buildings on the bases eastern side. A few Autobots rose to challenge him. They fell swiftly, blown apart by his rail gun, a bulky shoulder mounted weapon that he was rapidly coming to use as much as his fusion cannon. Reaching a point some fifty metres from the bunkers, he raised his right arm, carefully aiming the dull black tube of the antimatter weapon. One small adjustment later and a low yield burst hammered into the grey surface. It cracked and warped, burning away until the interior was exposed. A group of Autobot civilians cowered back.

 

He almost burst out laughing. It was centuries – nay, millennia – since he had been presented with a group of none combat-adjusted ‘bots. He had nearly forgotten the delicious looks of terror on their faces. The nearest, a medium sized mech, swung around, a rifle clutched in his trembling hands. Megatron walked towards him, not bothering to raise his own weapons.

“Stay back!� croaked the Autobot.

The Decepticon backhanded him, throwing him across the room, before surveying the rest.

“Does anyone else intend to defend themselves?�

 

Fear etched on their every feature, the civilians made no move.

“Pathetic.�

With a roar of thrusters, Cyclonus dropped to stand next to his leader.

“All resistance has been eradicated.�

“Excellent. And I am glad to see that you have ceased that ridiculous grovelling. It is for slaves to tremble, not Decepticon warriors.�

 

Megatron extended a finger to at a yellow mech.

“You! Show us where this base’s energon reserves are kept.�

“I d-d-don’t know the codes –� began the chosen Autobot.

Megatron’s rail gun shouted. The one who had raised the rifle was caught as he tried to stand. His side was blown open by the shell.

“Knowing the way Autobot’s trust one another so much, I doubt that. Any further objections?�

 

The yellow mech nearly ran across a door at the end of the room.

“Commander,� commented Cyclonus, “we could have found the energon without these weaklings.�

“Dominate your slaves from the start. That is how empires are sustained. Oversee the extraction of this ‘colony’s’ supplies and our new workforce.� He turned to the Sweeps and Seekers landing behind them and something caught his eye. “I leave it in your capable hands. There is something I have to attend to.�

 

The small green femme was trying desperately to haul an offline red and silver mech into the sparse cover of a fallen outbuilding while the Decepticons were looting the central areas. She did not see Megatron until his shadow fell over the two of them. With a yelp, she tried to throw herself across the fallen Autobot’s body and raise her rifle at the same time. Laughing, the silver commander swatted the weapon from her grip and grasped her neck, drawing her towards him.

“Would you like to live, little one?�

Her optics widened in astonishment, then she tried to lash out at him with her legs.

“Would you like your friend to live?�

She froze, horror replacing anger.

“Good. I have here a message I want you to deliver to Optimus Prime.�

He raised his right hand to show her the crystal cube.

“See? Just this ordinary holo-cube. There’s no trap, no poison. Just a message. I’ll let you and your friend stay alive and free and you will see that Prime gets this. A fair deal?�

 

He gently placed the cube beside the red mech. He was about to release the femme when a sudden idea came to him.

“But of course, he might not believe it came from me. I am ‘dead’ after all.�

His right forefinger slid open, revealing a small surgical laser.

“I had this installed after poor old Ratchet attacked me with his. In case I wanted to be artistic some day. I was most pleased to find that it had been carried forward into this body� He smiled at his captive. “Hold still.�

With infinite care, he traced a shape across her torso armour, the laser biting with a harsh blue light. She stifled a cry of pain.

 

Finished, he retracted the laser and cast the femme into the dust. He had no fear that his demand would be heeded. There was nothing so reliable as an Autobot trying to save another’s life. He made his way back to the bunker and found Soundwave waiting for him.

“Two errant Autobot energy signatures detected,� intoned the communications officer. Megatron grinned.

“Leave them. I have seen to it that they will be of some service to us.�

He surveyed the battlefield, the twisted wreckage, the broken bodies.

 

Oh yes. He was home.

 

 

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Blaster groaned and snapped his fingers at the comm-screen, switching it on and cutting out the heavy music that had been echoing from its speakers.

“Yo, Jazz. What’re you callin’ me for?�

“Sorry to break up your rest, good buddy, but you’ve got yourself a mission,� replied the spec-ops commander with a sympathetic grin.

The communicator suppressed a second groan. Another break period shot to the Pit.

“Rap it out. It’s not those slaggin’ antennas again?�

“No, no. The guys over at the sensor station have got some energy signal on their screens that they ‘think’ is an Autobot in the Underground and it just happens that you’re the nearest mech with the skills to pin it down. And the way those tunnels have been shiftin’ lately…�

“Ok, ok, I’m one it. Do I get any back up?�

“Uh…yeah, you do…�

“Jazz, I get the feelin’ that I’m not gonna like this.�

 

“Tough.�

The voice came from the lounge door. It belonged to a mech who was the mirror image of Jazz but with white armour switched for black with gold trim. He held a powerful looking, long barrelled rifle with the air of one very much used to using it.

“Ah, scrap, anyone but him…� muttered Blaster before standing and giving the Autobot a cheery, forced smile. “Hello there, Stepper!�

“Nice effort, Blaster, but there’s really no point pretending that we have anything less than utter contempt for each other.�

“Go easy, Steps!� Jazz’s image frowned then looked at Blaster. “Sorry, he was free and in the right area, same as you. The two of you can get underground at Arch Nine. Find that signal and see who it is.�

“What about the meetin’ later?�

“If you aren’t back, Aerial can cover for you. And anyway, where’d you rather be: in the field or in a board room?�

“With this guy involved?� snarled the red mech, jerking a thumb at Stepper.

Jazz shrugged apologetically.

“Sorry.�

The screen switched to show a set of coordinates.

“This is the last position of the signal. You cats be careful down there. And don’t kill each other!�

 

Blaster recorded the coordinates and reluctantly faced the sniper.

“Come on then. We gotta hurry if we don’t want the tunnels to start switching again.�

“You think I don’t know that?�

In mutual irritation, they left the room.

 

Archway Nine was a large ring of black metal set into the ground at the end of a long ramp and sealed with a massive set of shutters. Blaster leaned over the small control console and began entering the unlocking codes. Every so often he would glance suspiciously back at Stepper, getting an equally antagonistic glare in return.

 

There had been no definite incident that had set the two of them at each other’s throats. Unless one counted the first time they had met one another. The not-quite-private feud had apparently grown from their conflicting personalities. Stepper, cold and aloof at the best of times, seemed to take Blaster’s rebellious nature and disrespect for military authority as a personal insult. When they had been in the same battlefield unit, he had made acid comments every time the communicator had done something innovative or ‘against the rules’, despite the fact that the assassin was just as willing to use unconventional tactics.

 

For his part, Blaster had always felt uncomfortable around professional killers, especially when they professed total loyalty to the Autobot cause. He knew snipers were a necessary part of a military campaign, but the ones he had met reminded him too much of Decepticons for comfort. And Stepper was by far the worst. He spoke of his ‘craft’ as if it were just that, an art form that deserved appreciation.

 

The shutters shuddered, breaking the glowering match, and slid thunderously back. They revealed a tunnel, lit by regularly spaced beacons and plunging ever downwards.

“After you.� Blaster’s voice went cold. “Or do you need a wall to hide behind?�

With a sneer, Stepper pushed past. Blaster made a face at the sniper’s back.

 

“Ahem.�

They both snapped back round, Stepper raising his rifle. A tall femme was striding down the ramp, her white and blue armour gleaming. Her frame was similar to a Seeker’s but lacked the wings and rifles. Instead, a large sword was strapped across her back and there were fans folded into her boots. Flanking her were a yellow cone-headed Seeker with twin blasters on his arms, and a red and black mech with rotor blades mounted behind his shoulders. A spy cassette femme was already leaning nonchalantly against the control console.

 

Blaster shoved his companion’s rifle out down.

“Watch where you’re pointin’ that thing.� He approached the newcomers. “What do you want, Harpoon?�

“Is this a private expedition,� she asked, nodding towards the Archway, “or something we should know about?�

Stepper pushed Blaster aside.

“It’s nothing to do with you, so clear off, mercenary.� The last word was spat with particular vehemence.

 

The two hulking mechs behind Harpoon began to advance, fists rising but she waved them back. She eyed the sniper.

“You make us sound…unpleasant.�

“Unpleasant? There isn’t a word unpleasant enough for soldiers who switch sides for money.�

“At least we look those we fight in the face before we terminate them.�

Blaster elbowed his way back into the conversation.

“Look, Harpoon, we’ve got a stray Autobot to find, so would you tell us what you want.�

Harpoon crossed her arms.

“Well now. We heard about this little sortie and thought, those tunnels are pretty dangerous so we’d better go along and make sure they don’t get eaten by giant Turbo Rats or something.�

“Last time I checked, we didn’t need body guards.�

“Pity. We’ll just have to hang around Iacon a bit longer then.�

 

She turned away.

“Wait!� Blaster stepped towards her. “What do you mean ‘hang around Iacon’?�

“If your memory circuits are working, you’ll remember that your illustrious High Command started hiring mercenary groups a few years ago to fight off a potential Quintesson invasion, including us Freebooters. But some hot shot five faced general scrapped that up and it never happened. You will also remember that we got paid up front and, being concerned about what would happen to our image if we just pulled out, that leaves us honour bound to do some kind of work for you lot.� She smiled. “Such as helping two ‘bots about to brave the unknown. Otherwise, we have to stay in Iacon, getting in everybody’s way, until something else comes up.�

 

Blaster considered. On one hand, he neither liked nor trusted the Freebooters, despite their ‘honourable’ reputation, and given the current situation with the Decepticons, command might want the mercenaries where they could see them. On the other, some help in the tunnels might turn out to be useful. The energy signature was at least ten levels down and who knew what lurked between there and the surface. He glanced at Stepper. And suddenly realised exactly what the black armoured mech would want him to say. Rebellious thoughts rose into his mind.

“Fine. You can come. Stepper, take point.�

The sniper stared at him, rage burning in his optics.

“Get going!�

The snapped order seemed to work. In one furious movement, he transformed to car mode and sped down the tunnel. Harpoon did not bother to hide her now triumphant grin.

“Aren’t your superiors taking a risk putting the two of you on the same mission?� Without waiting for a reply, she motioned to her troops. “Whirlwind, there’s enough room for you to fly. Go and keep an eye on our little wall-clinger. Backlash, Domino, stay with me.�

 

A mad cackle erupted from the red mech and he transformed into a helicopter. As he hurtled into the tunnel, the Seeker and the cassette exchanged glances then joined Harpoon and Blaster at the yawning entrance. There was an uncomfortable pause. Blaster shrugged and indicated the Archway.

“Ladies first, I suppose…�

The mercenary leader and Domino went onwards, the smaller femme flying to keep pace. The communicator looked at Backlash.

“You and me then.�

The air warrior gave him a blank stare. He sighed. It was going to be a long day.

 

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Optimus Prime marshalled his thoughts and looked around the meeting room. Almost all the members of the Autobot Command had assembled. Ultra Magnus sat to his left, thumbing through the reports on the attack. He was paying no attention to Grimlock, who was glowering from the seat opposite. There were still conflicts between the two lieutenant commanders, but the clash of their locked horns had quietened over the years. Prime was not sure whether that was because Grimlock had mellowed or because Magnus had earned his respect somehow. Stranger things had happened. Next to Magnus was Elita, checking over her own notes. She looked up and gave Prime a small smile before returning to her study. Next to Grimlock, and looking extremely uncomfortable about it, was Perceptor. Surprisingly, he had not opened his collection of datapads, though he probably had their contents memorised. Beside him was an occasionally jittery holo-projection of Fortress Maximus, the Headmaster still acting as the commander of the Nebulan Autobots. Opposite him was Ratchet. The medic was fidgeting, eager for the meeting to start, if only so he could get back to his domain in the city hospital. Wheeljack occupied the next seat along, the engineer staring into space and no doubt on the verge of concocting some brilliant and brilliantly dangerous device. The final three seats were yet to be filled.

 

Optimus was about to activate his intercom when the door swished open. Jazz strode in, accompanied by a tall, slim, silver femme. She was carrying a bulky set of apparatus that she set on the chair at the end of the oval table.

“Sorry we’re late,� drawled the special operations commander, taking his own seat, “Blaster ain’t back yet, so Aerial here’s standin’ in for him.�

Apparently satisfied with the machine’s status, the femme stood back and touched a control on her wrist.

“Go ahead, Ambassador.�

There was a fizzing sound and an image of Ambassador Beacon appeared above the projector. Aerial sat down.

 

Prime stood, made the traditional show of opening his notes, then began.

“Fellow Autobots. Friends. You will all have heard by now what happened two days ago at the scientific colony in the Theta Varos system. A Decepticon battle group descended upon the base and reduced it to rubble. They massacred the defenders with a ferocity not seen since the beginning of the Great War. They took energon, spacecraft parts, scientific equipment, stripping everything they could from what was left. There were only two survivors.� He paused; remembering the state the two had been in when he had visited them in the infirmary. “An aerial warrior named Quickstrike and a scientist, Sprocket. Apparently, the Decepticons spared them. Spared them, so that they could deliver this.�

 

He placed the holo-cube on the table, almost wishing that it would vanish like a bad dream. No such luck.

“These details you will know. This has been kept quiet up till now.�

Without another word, he activated the device.

 

There was a hum of power and a column of light flowed up out of the crystal surface. A shape solidified inside it. A shape unmistakable to all those in the room. There was a shocked silence. The figure seemed to be looking straight at them, contemptuous, arrogant, majestic. Megatron spoke.

 

“Optimus Prime.� He seemed to be savouring the words. “I bid you greeting from beyond the grave. I will admit to a certain amount of arrogance in striking out at you so soon after my rebirth, but I had to let you and your little Autobot state know… I. Am. Back. Do not doubt that fact. And do not doubt that I have every intention of finishing what I started.� The image leaned forward. “But…how shall I put this? Time has mellowed me. I shall abide by protocol for once. We should not rush into another war. Let us talk first. Meet me five days after my attack on Theta Varos. On Taalus Four. I’m sure you remember it.�

 

The image flickered and vanished. The silence continued for a few seconds.

“It a trick.� Grimlock’s voice was filled with total conviction. “Megatron dead. Gone. Buried in Galvatron.�

“I have to agree.� Ultra Magnus had a haunted look in his optics. “Megatron became Galvatron. He can’t have come back. This has to be some kind of trick.�

“I wish I could say that I agreed.� Prime motioned to Ratchet. “But I cannot.�

 

The doctor placed a plate of green metal on the table.

“Megatron caught Sprocket and told her to give Optimus that cube. He threatened Quickstrike to get her to do it. But apparently,� and his voice took on a disgusted tone, “he didn’t think the cube alone would convince us.�

The others craned to look at the metal. A shape had been cut into it. Two jagged arcs, like earthen ‘twos’, one reversed, their points nearly touching. Grimlock sat back in his chair, suddenly looking worried. Fortress Maximus frowned.

“What is this supposed to mean?�

Surprisingly, it was the image of Beacon that answered.

“I believe it is a gladiator’s crest. Specifically, that which Megatron used when he fought in the Arenas.� He looked up at Prime. “It exactly matches.�

“Yes.�

“But surely,� commented Aerial, “another Decepticon could have copied it.�

“No,� snarled Grimlock, “It too accurate. This symbol drawn on his skull. Only those he fought in arenas saw it close up. None of them around in ‘con ranks.�

“But surely there are visual records…� Elita trailed off. “How else did you know, Beacon?�

 

The Mircomaster coughed nervously.

“That is something I would rather not discuss. Nonetheless, I believe Megatron himself oversaw the destruction of all records pertaining to that era of his history. It is highly unlikely a Decepticon would have access to such images. And I find it equally unlikely that any of his surviving inner circle would have the nerve to try something like this.�

“Agreed.� Optimus tapped the cube. “And there is one way to check…�

“Prime…� growled Ratchet, “It’s insanity…�

“Nevertheless… I fully intend to answer ‘Megatron’s’ call. I will meet him on Taalus Four.�

 

A chorus of protests echoed through the room. He waited a moment then called for quiet.

“I have no intention of going alone. I will take a full security contingent and an ‘Ark’ class cruiser as I am sure Megatron will not be alone either.�

“But Prime…� began Magnus.

“I have made my decision.�

Everyone except Grimlock flinched at their leader’s tone.

“Magnus, Ratchet, Grimlock. I want you three to come with me. Beacon, I would rather you did not inform the GU council until it has been confirmed that this really is Megatron.�

“There are no full sessions scheduled till next week. I can hold off till then.�

“Excellent. I intend to inform the public that Decepticon activity is on the increase, which they already know but have yet to hear officially. Megatron’s return, or the rise of an impostor in his place, must be kept under wraps until we are certain what is going on. I know I can trust all of you to ensure that rumours are kept to a minimum. Meeting adjourned.�

 

As the holograms faded and the others began to make their way to the door, Optimus approached the towering Dinobot.

“Grimlock?�

“Prime.�

“When we go to Taalus, I want you to keep an eye on me.�

“Hn?�

“To make sure that I don’t do anything…rash.�

The masked mech seemed confused for a moment, then his optics narrowed.

“You think if me busy watching you, me won’t do anything rash?�

“Partly, I will admit. But, in all honesty, I’m not sure that I can trust myself around someone even pretending to be Megatron.�

“You trust me to pull you out if you act stupid?�

“Given your feelings towards me, I would trust no one else.�

Grimlock gave a curt nod.

“Fine. Me watch you. You set Magnus, Ratchet and the rest to watch me.�

“Yes.� Prime recalled Sprocket’s ashen face as she handed him the cube, the cube she had refused to give to anyone save its intended recipient. Recalled the terror in her optics. He suppressed a shiver. “And we all watch Megatron.�

 

And Primus help us all, he silently added, if this is the start of a second Great War.

 

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As the tunnels got deeper, the lights got grimier. Shadows grew darker and things began to chatter and scuttle just on the edge of vision. Blaster was seriously considering drawing his rifle. Backlash, now supporting Domino on his shoulder, was evidently nervous and trying to see in all directions at once. Harpoon appeared unconcerned by the gathering gloom.

 

They were still three levels up from the signal and quite some distance from the next descent shaft. The communicator was slightly uneasy about the fact that the signal had not moved since they had entered the tunnels. It did not bode well for their target’s health.

“Worried, Blaster?�

Harpoon’s voice still held a note of amusement.

“You would be too if you’d ever been down here before.�

“Everything’s been quiet so far.�

“Yeah. And that’s scrappin’ worryin’.�

“I don’t know,� Domino offered, “Perhaps all the ‘monsters’ got cleared out when the planet got restored.�

“None of us did,� Backlash pointed out.

 

“Hold it.�

Blaster had stopped suddenly and was staring into the tunnel ahead. He had been monitoring Stepper and Whirlwind’s signatures. They had stopped, roughly half a mile from the others’ current position. Yet his estimates put them still twice that distance from the shaft, where they should have halted to wait for the rest to catch up. He opened a communication channel.

“Stepper? Why’ve you stopped?�

There was a buzz of static but nothing else.

“Stepper! Whirlwind? Anyone?�

There was a burst of sound, none of it intelligible.

“They’re in trouble!�

The mercenaries were already racing onwards.

 

They found Stepper in robot mode, lying face down across the tunnel floor. He was still conscious and moaned as Backlash heaved him up. His optics flickered wildly then he focused on Blaster.

“Urgh…wib ob te nig?�

“What?�

“I mid…org, srac…�

There was a loud clang from above them. Whirlwind crashed out of the shadows, his rotors twisted. Domino dashed over to him. Harpoon unsheathed her sword. Backlash dropped Stepper and charged his rifles. Blaster readied his disrupter rifle.

 

“Whoever you are,� shouted the Freebooter’s leader, “come out and face us!�

“Why, certainly…�

A small, white figure materialised someway down the passageway.

“Who are you?� Blaster demanded.

The figure smiled.

 

A booming screech tore at their audio sensors, deafening and disorienting them. Blaster yelled, his heightened senses burning with pain. He looked around wildly for the source of the noise.

 

And saw a whirling mass of claws and fangs heading straight for his head…

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Next: The Monster

[Optimus3000]

:clap  :clap

 

This is great! You wouldn't happen to have any drawings of what the different TFs look like now, would you?

 

Keep up the good work! I can't wait until part 3!

[The Librarian]

I have a load of 3D models of them. Go and look through the gallery for Generation 3.

 

:thumb

[Starscreamer]

more...need...more

[smokescren]

great story needs to be continued