As I set here, staring at the sunset, I can't help but remember what the Matrix revealed to me shortly after defeating the Fallen.
It was an age before ages on a world whose name has long been forgotten on the winds of time. So far from here, this world was filled with beauty and wonder and the most intelligent and skilled people in every area of knowlledge, research, and talent. Sadly, even with all of that intelligence and skill, when their world began to die, they could do nothing. The rapid deterioration of the planet's magnetic fields made escape to another world impossible. Faced with extinction, the leaders made a great decision.
They constructed a great computer, a near omniscient and omnipotent artificial intelligence. They programmed every bit of knowledge, wisdom, and skill their society possessed into its vast and adaptable core. Then, they launched it into space in the most powerful vessle they had available, hoping beyond hope their legacy and world woud not be forgotten.
The great computer journeyed for centuries before the ship was caught in the gravitational pull of a massive planet. Unaware of the destruction of its planet of origin, this great machine surveyed the world on which it now rested and, using its stores of information, became aware and adapted! It constructed great machines which began terraforming the world into something suitable for itself. For centuries, the world was converted into a purely mechanical planet.
Then, the great machine took an even greater step: it created life! Living machines, to be exact, programmed with adaptive minds like itself. Then, it embedded itself into the core of the planet to manage things for its children. Millenia passed and its children evolved into the many cultural and societal classes derived from the information in the great machine's mind: scientists, builders, inventors, warriors, explorers, and more. These sentient machines dubbed their world Cybertron!
Eventually, the great machine gave birth to the Primes! Endowed with its total wisdom, the Primes were the machines greatest creations so that it could focus more on the planet than its children. Unfortunately, the warrior class was beginning to realize and understand power! It was a slow progression at first as the warriors began plotting to seize the world and rule, expanding their empire into space!
The Primes were unaware of this, for the Prime assigned to oversee the warriors was, in fact, leading the warriors on their path! Meanwhile, the great machine, now dubbed the All Spark by its children, was becoming more and more intertwined with the world it had created, pouring its vast core of knowledge into Cybertron's newly constructed central core.
Before the warriors launched their attempt of conquest, the treacherous Prime stole a part of the All Spark and went into space, on a simple exploration, he had told his brothers. In his journey, he found a planet nearly equal in size to Cybertron. He then plunged the All Spark fragment into its core in an attempt to create and craft a grand weapon: a planetary base that could devour worlds and process the components into energy to fuel the warriors’ conquest of all space! Fortunately, his attempt failed, leaving behind a lifeless world of metal.
Enfuriated, the traitorous Prime returned to Cybertron and launched the war to last forever! As the war raged, the other Primes began pouring their knowledge of warfare, strategy, and tactics into the best and brightest of the other classes who would volunteer. Because of the great deception, the hopeful conquerors came to be called Decepticons. Out of their desire to remain free, autonomous robots, the Primes' followers called themselves Autobots! Thus began the Great War!
Eventually, the Primes' brother was renamed the Fallen by his brothers and Master by his Decepticons. Then, the war came to ancient Earth.
At the height of the war, so enraged at its children over the war, the Core of Cybertron launched its former vessel, the cube called the All Spark, into space, so its powers would not be used for destruction. This led to Decepticons and Autobots both arriving on Earth, to the present day, where the Fallen fell, and the war continued.
I wonder at what could have been had different choices been made by all.
It has now been twenty years since the fall of the Fallen. It has been fifteen years since the fall of Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave, Shockwave, and the traitor, Sentinel Prime! Sadly, it was also the day my great friend and great Autobot warrior, Ironhide, perished.
Since then, we have seen the arrival on Earth of many comrades from the corners of space. The first to arrive were the Decepticon Hunters: Hound, Trailbreaker, Warpath, Powerglide, Brawn, Cliffjumper, and their leader, Bluestreak. They were followed by four skilled Autobots: Prowl, the security and weapons specialist, Perceptor, the scientist, Cosmos, the explorer, and Blaster, the communications specialist. Eventually, we were joined by Sunstreaker, Sideswipe's brother, Smokescreen, the soldier, Wheeljack, the inventor and Ratchet's old friend, Hoist and Grapple, the builders, and Mirage, the scout and spy. To my great delight, we also found my four dear friends I thought lost in the war-Ultra Magnus and Kup, battle hardened soldiers, Hot Rod, their quick tempered protege, and Springer, a rare multiple form Autobot skilled in many areas of combat.
Combined with Bumblebee, Sideswipe, Ratchet, Dino, Leadfoot, Roadbuster, Top Spin, Arcee, and the N.E.S.T., we have destroyed or driven into space or hiding any remaining Decepticons on Earth.
We have established a lunar base, as well, to recover and deal with the technology left from Sentinel Prime's ship and serve as an early warning base for any incoming Decepticons.
Seven years ago, we lost, and continue to search for, fifteen Decepticons that remain on Earth: Skywarp, Thundercracker, Blitzwing, Astrotrain, Octane, Sunstorm, Dirge, Thrust, Ramjet, Motor Master, Dead End, Breakdown, Drag Strip, Wildrider, and their defacto leader, Thunderwing.
We still have no information on the fate or condition of our homeworld of Cybertron after the failed Space Bridge attempt to bring it into Earth's orbit.
The remains of the Decepticons and Sentinel Prime were launched into the farthest reaches of space to prevent any attempt by those remaining on Earth to revive them.
Now, fifteen years since that day, the Autobots have assisted in the rebuilding of many human cities, developing defenses for humanity to be prepared for any Decepticon assault that likely is out there waiting to come.
The N.E.S.T, under the command of General Willaim Lennox and Captain Marissa Faireborn, continues to be our most reliable allies. Our dear friend, Samuel Witwicky, has gone into secluded hiding to raise his family in peace and quiet, something he very much deserves. However, we have made a new friend who has been instrumental in revamping Earth's computer defense network. Chip Chase has proven to be a true friend and has even developed combat programming augmentation for the Autobots, downloading into our databanks various martial arts disciplines and techniques.
As the sun sets and the moon rises, I now look forward to a better future, one we will defend with our lives on Earth, our home. If any Autobot receives this, you are welcome here. If any Decepticon receives this, you are not welcome here and will be dealt with appropriately if you endanger our home in any way. I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots!"
In the vastness of space, there is much we humans do not know, much we can only glimpse from telescopes and probes. We had thought we were alone in the universe until the Autobots and Decepticons showed us that we may be very insignificant in the grand scheme of the galaxy. Or, maybe, perhaps, the key to it all!
So it was, in the farthest depths of space, twenty years after the seeming defeat of the Decepticons on Earth, that something changed its course and turned on a path to the Milky Way! It moved through space silently, oblivious to anything in its path. Whatever objects dared to obstruct its course were simply swallowed through the gaping, crushing hole in the center of the thing.
It was ominous and gigantic, a planetoid comprised entirely of metal and, yet, alive! Energy pulsated through various conduits along its surface as it processed the energy derived from the devoured obstacles. It was unconcerned for any life forms dwelling on any of the planets in its way, as they simply perished with their worlds into the maw of the monstrosity! Deep within its core, there was a semblance of the beating of a rather dark heart!
As it continued on its way, something made it pause and turn, ever so slightly from its course, to intercept a large container that floated aimlessly on a direct line to nowhere. Beams of red light stretched forth from the monstrous maw and enveloped the container, as if searching it. The beams of red changed to green and the container ceased its moving on its aimlessly direct course and turned, being drawn into the maw by the green light.
When the container reached the point of the maw’s opening, it was stopped and held in place. Cable like arms tipped with various pincers and manipulators of varying types shot forth from the mechanical surface around the maw and began dissecting the container, removing it entirely to expose what lay within. When the violent task was done, an eerie blue light came forth from the maw to envelope the container’s former cargo.
Floating helplessly, lifelessly, in the blue light of the mechanical monster planetoid were the remains of Megatron, Sentinel Prime, Starscream, Soundwave, Shockwave, and various other unidentifiable Decepticon remains. A rumble that, if one heard it, could be described as a fear instilling laughter, erupted from the dark core of the metal planet!
A new swarm of cable arms shot forth from all areas around the maw, deconstructing and reconstructing the lifeless shells of the evil robots! In time, new forms began to take shape where the remains had once been! One by one, a different type of cable came forth from the great maw and plugged into each new form as pulses of white energy flowed along the cables from the beast to the creations! As the energy coursed through the new robots, their eyes filled with the light of life once more. They floated helpless, held in place by the blue field of light.
A voice boomed forth from the maw, deep and terrible!
“Behold,” the voice bellowed, “I have remade you in images suitable to my service. You now have a grave choice to make. Serve me as warriors and scouts or serve me as food!”
One of the new robots stirred, shaking its head. “Wha…what…has happened? Where…am I? Wh….who….what…are you to dare place such a demand upon Megatron, Lord of all Decepticons!?”
The blue light changed to yellow around the unrecognizable Megatron and he recoiled in pain!
“I am,” the planet boomed, “your savior and master! Without my benevolence, you would have remained lifeless forever! Now, how will you serve me!?”
Megatron straightened himself as the light returned to blue. “What…..what do you want me to do and…..what is in it….for me?” he asked angrily.
The ominous laughter erupted once again from the planet. “What is in it for you? You have received it! Your life! Now, choose!!! I shall not ask again!”
Megatron turned and surveyed the other robots around him with curiosity and confusion. He was not sure but, could it be Starscream, Soundwave, Shockwave, Barricade, Longhaul, Sideways, and Scrapper? The other one, larger than the others, Megatron stared hardest at. Sentinel Prime? If they were alive, he thought, then where were the other Decepticons and why had they dared discard him to the void of space!?
“Because,” the metal planet said, “you were all defeated, destroyed, deactivated by your enemies in battle! It was they who set you into the vacuum of space! Of those whose remains were with you, what you see before you is all that could be reconstructed. Now, choose, or serve me as food!”
Megatron nodded grimly. He knew he was no match for this thing, whatever it was. He knew, too, the energy signatures that emanated from the behemoth: the All Spark and his former master, the Fallen!
“Very well,” he spoke to the living planet, “I shall serve in that it suits my purposes to do so and for no other reason! Understand!?”
His new master chuckled. “As you wish to believe. Now, behold, your new and improved minions. Cyclonus, formerly Sentinel Prime, shall be your right hand and reconfigure into your personal transport that you may conserve your vast energies for my service. Behold, Scourge, who was once Starscream, now leads these others, his Hounds, to do your bidding. And you are Megatron no longer! From henceforth, you are now Galvatron, my warlord and chief herald!”
Megatron surveyed his new lackeys and considered his new name. He did not like it. He did not like this thing that he now had to call master. Yet, there was something there that he understood, sensed, and wanted! So, he accepted his state, for now.
“What shall our mission be, oh master?” Galvatron asked with sarcastic anger.
The great beast said, “You shall go forth to the world you were discarded from. Once there, you shall do two things. You shall bring into my service those of your former followers who remain. Then, you shall destroy he who destroyed you, the last of the Primes, and return to me with the gift of the Matrix! After which, I shall feast upon that world for I sense it is teaming with unknown energy!”
Galvatron pondered this. Yes, bringing his Decepticons back under his leadership, and not this thing’s, would be wise. Destroying Optimus Prime would be most enjoyable! The Matrix, however, was a most puzzling thing for this living being to request. So, he thought, if it wants the Matrix, then so should I!
“Then what shall we know you by, my master?” Galvatron now asked of the great planet. “For if I am to be your herald, then I must use your name as my most feared weapon!”
The living planet roared and laughed at the same time, showering his new troops with energy from his massive mawl!
“I AM UNICRON!!!”
A large ship moved slowly from the mouth of the metal world and Galvatron, Cyclonus, Scourge, and the Hounds boarded it immediately, setting their course for Earth.
As his slaves moved off, Unicron chuckled mightily as he returned to his original path, making note of the vector his minions had taken. He would consume that world but, first, he would strengthen himself for any treachery with the energy of the world that had caught his attention. A world just like himself. A world of metal called Cybertron!
Even though the Autobots have lost their home world of Cybertron to the Decepticons, the war still rages. For, as the Autobots fled into the vastness of space the Decepticons gave chase. Knowing that any Autobot that continued to function could be a threat to them at any time, Megatron’s last orders before for his ill fated mission to track down the All Spark were to make the Autobots extinct!
Now, on worlds scattered among the galaxies, the war rages on. As groups of Autobots seek refuge and a chance to regroup or join their comrades on many planets, the Decepticons are never far behind.
To the humans of Earth, it is a world they have not yet seen through their great telescopes and probes but, to a rag tag band of Autobots, it is sanctuary. For now.
Windcharger surveyed the barren landscape as he exited his damaged ship. There were mountains and crevices with very little vegetation or water. The atmosphere would be toxic to non-machine life, according to his sensors. Several large storm fronts raged off on the distant horizons. The one important reading to him was that there were no life forms, mechanical or otherwise, being detected and no trace of anything metallic in nature.
“It’s all clear!” he shouted back up the ramp way into the hold of the Star Jumper.
It was a good ship that had kept Windcharger and his crew one step ahead of the Decepticons. Barely. Surveying the damaged, he could not help but smile. Only minor damage and scorch marks marred the hull of his trusty space vessel.
His compatriots, Gears, Huffer, Inferno, Traks, Pipes, and Skids, descended the ramp with weapons ready, as always. They surveyed the skies and the planet as the joined their leader at the base of the ramp.
“This place is quite depressing, Windcharger,” Gears said. “Maybe next time we can find some place with nicer weather and scenery! This will be murder on my circuits!”
“Relax, you old pessimist!” Skids told his friend. “Look on the bright side, we haven’t seen any Decepticons since we used that near super nova star for a sling shot boost!”
Huffer shook his head. “Really? Really, Skids? That’s the best bright side! You know we haven’t had contact with any other Autobots in over a chrono unit, right? I just don’t see much brightness with Cybertron under Decepticon rule!”
“Well, Huffer,” Traks began, “you may have a point. It would be nice at least hear from Silverbolt or Scattershot and their teams again. Fighting to stay alive while looking for a new, safe base is getting rather tiring.”
“Shake it off, team!” Wincharger told them. “We may not have seen any more of our friends in a while but, I know they are out there! If we’re going to find them, we need to get the Star Jumper repaired while we have time to. Inferno, you, Huffer, and Pipes take care of the external damage and make sure all scanners and defenses are as operational as possible. Gears, you and I will take care of internal repairs. Scrap and salvage as much of the unnecessary systems and components as needed to get her up as close as we can to one hundred percent. Skids, set a perimeter and man the top side turret. Traks, give us ariel recon out as far as you feel safe. Look for any signs of energon as well. Adding to our reserves is never a bad idea. Autobots, move out!”
With that, the small team of friends set about their assigned tasks with a grim determination. They knew they could have only a few minutes but hoped for a few days. There last stop had lasted but a few seconds before they detected a Decepticon ship enter orbit and had to quickly depart and make a desperate move to escape! Now, they just wanted a chance to recharge and not have to run or fight for a while.
Little did they know that all of those problems were about to become insignificant.
“Sixshot! I think we have something!”
“Show me, Rumble!”
On board a sleek Decepticon vessel, a large display screen on the bridge showed a very weak energon signal. Sixshot could not smile at this find. He had been pursuing a team of seven Autobots for far too long. At every planet he had tracked them to they had narrowly escaped. He had not believed they had perished in that star on the verge of going super nova and had nearly stayed too long attempting to pick up their ship’s energon trail. Rumble had barely piloted the Deathdealer out of the system when the star erupted.
“Rumble,” Sixshot said, “are you certain it is the Autobot ship’s signature? I really do not want to waste anymore time. Those seven need to be permanently deactivated that I may present them to Megatron when he returns!”
Rumble adjusted some controls. “Well, at this distance, I can’t be too sure but, yeah, it does have some similarities. Still, it’s a bit off the path we been tracking them on. Just thought you should know about it.”
Sixshot leaned back in the command seat. Rumble was a capable pilot and was quite good with sensor readings. Still, it made the large Decepticon angry that a similar reading was all he had had to go on in so long! He yearned to return to Cybertron, to soar through its skies, to drive along its sleek surface, and to rejoin his many friends in celebrating their conquest and rule!
Grimly, Sixshot decided. “Rumble, change course with all haste but, be ready to return us to this course should it be no more than an energon deposit. And, for your sake, pray it doesn’t take too long to determine!”
Rumble nervously began altering their course and sparked out, “Full speed it is!”
“Reflector!” Sixshot bellowed as he swung his chair to the left.
“At your command, Lord Sixshot,” the three triplet Decepticons said as they rose from their stations.
“Go and have Buzzsaw ready for rapid, stealth reconnaissance and inform Onslaught to prepare his team for battle! While you’re in the hold, see if Slugfest and Overkill are repaired and recharged for action. If it is them, I want those Autobots to know suffering for making me chase them this long!”
The triplets bowed as one. “As you command, Lord Sixshot, it shall be done!” Off they went into the ship’s hold.
The bridge was silent now, save for the giant Decepticon and his small pilot. Sixshot tried to suppress the feeling of exhileration that his long pursuit was near its end. Then, perhaps, Lord Megatron would see fit to bestow him the honor of tracking down and ending the Autobot leader, Optimus Prime, forever! Finally, that conniving piece of scrap, Starscream, would no longer set at their master’s right hand! Instead, Sixshot, the only Decepticon with enough power and technology within him to master six deadly forms for any situation, would be second only to Megatron! Yes, Sixshot thought. He belonged at Megatron’s right hand!
The Deathdealer altered its course and left the depths of space for a nearby solar system of seven planets, zeroed in on the fourth planet from the tiny sun at its center. The engines flared to life and propelled the Decepticons forward at best possible speed.
However, the Decepticons will soon discover the need to focus more of their sensors aftward for, even though their prey is within reach, they will all soon find themselves staring death in the face!
“Report.”
“Well, sir,” the middle aged soldier with the battle worn face began, “we have been unable to locate the remaining Decepticons on Earth. We believe they may have either found a base deep enough underground to mask their energy signatures or have found a way to cloak themselves. However, due to the limited technology and resources they have, Optimus Prime believes it is the former.”
“I see,” responded the man behind the desk. He was unremarkable, even forgettable, in appearance. He had a plain face with a short cut to his wavy brown hair. He had brown eyes, a straight and small nose, and a slender mouth. He was clean shaven and of average build. By all observations, he was most ordinary indeed, except for the fact that he was seated in the high back leather chair on the other side of the mahogany wood desk in the Oval Office of the President of the United States.
“Tell me, General Lennox,” the President continued, “if that is the case, why are we not using every resource available to scan all the way to the planet’s core, if necessary, to find and eliminate these enemies of humanity?”
William Lennox was rarely intimidated these days. Not after all he had been through as first the field commander and now the director of the N.E.S.T., formerly Network Elements: Supporters and Transformers but, now, renamed Network Earth Strategic Team. However, being grilled by the President of the United States in the heart of the White House with the Secretary of Defense and the entire Joint Chiefs standing behind him was definitely more intimidating than any Decepticon he had ever thrown down with!
The General shifted his stance slightly and answered his commander in chief. “That is what we are attempting to do to the best of our abilities. At present, though, we can only penetrate so far through the ground with our scans and, even then, not through every type of rock and layer making up the Earth’s crust. So, we continue full orbital surveillance and ground and air recon to provide the best search effort possible, as well as many agents in the field around the world, watching for signs of Decepticon activity.”
The President leaned back in his chair. His face was impossible to read. Long ago, as a high school quarterback, Victor Raul McCollum had learned to keep his face as plain and emotionless as possible to make it impossible for defenses to read him for panic, overconfidence, fear, or doubt. It served him well through college and as an Air Force pilot. Eventually, injuries sustained in combat battling the Decepticons over Egypt earned him an honorable discharge and set him on a course into politics, achieving the ultimate goal, President of the USA!
Now, President McCollum was facing a dilemma. It was an election year. He had run on the promise that, under his watch, the Decepticons would be permanently removed from Earth, forever! Now, he was facing the reality that it was not going to be as simple as that after all.
“Very well, General,” the President said, “as you can only do all you can do, I am open to suggestions on how we can go beyond all you can do and find those last terrorist threats, and eliminate them forever.”
No one spoke. They all knew that the best minds and technological resources were in the sole employ of the N.E.S.T. Then, the Secretary of Defense broke the silence.
“Perhaps,” Kendrick Washington began, “and I’m speaking as an old school fisherman and hunter here, but, perhaps, we need to give them a reason to come out of their hole. A bait.”
Every eye was turned to the man in charge of coordinating and analyzing the defense of the US of A. Kendrick was a war veteran as well, serving in the first Decepticon conflict, running through the desert, being chased by a scorpion robot, after fleeing the assault of a helicopter robot, and ending up with shrapnel splintering his right knee cap, and earning him the same discharge as his President. He was a simple man with a simple background and a good mind for strategy and politics. He and Victor had met at a fundraiser for their political party eight years ago and McCollum had remembered the remarkable man after he was elected President, naming Washington his Secretary of Defense.
“What exactly do you propose, Mister Secretary?” General Lennox asked with an intrigued look.
Kendrick brought forth a folder and handed it to the President. “You will see in that folder,” Kendrick began, “the photographic inventory of items recovered by the Autobots on Moon Base Guardian. These are still being stored at the base but, they are due to be transported to Earth at the end of the week. They are designated to be placed under the auspices of Chip Chase and his techno-science team, as well as the Autobots Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Perceptor, for research.”
“I see where you’re going, Mister Secretary, but I don’t think…” Lennox began.
“That’s a good idea, Mister Washington!’ the President said, cutting off the General. “Yes, bait the prized catch, wait for the bite, and, bang, they are ours!”
Lennox was a bit peeved. “Mister President, Mister Secretary, with all due respect, we don’t even know what most of that stuff does. That’s why it’s going to Chip Chase’s team. If this baiting fails and those Decepticons get away with this stuff, we could be back to square one. Remember, Sentinel Prime had already turned on the Autobots when he boarded his ship and left Cybertron. Who knows what advanced weaponry and devices he may have stowed aboard his ship. This is a bad idea, sirs!”
The President stood as he opened the folder and flipped through its contents. Then, he closed it and eyed the General carefully. Looking around the room to the Joint Chiefs, each one nodded in approval when the President’s gaze met theirs.
Generals Amanda O’Neal, Hector Rodriguez, and William Dougalson and Admiral Nathaniel Munson had all served in some capacity during the three Transformer Wars, as they had come to be called. They, along with Washington and the President, did not have the same personal interaction with and understanding of the Cybertronians as Lennox had. They fought against, not with the giant alien robots. Now, it seemed, that bond had them going against every shred of reason and common sense that Lennox had mustered, to no avail.
“While I appreciate your unique and intricate understanding of these aliens, General Lennox,” the President said in a matter of fact tone, “the safety and security of this nation, and of this planet, largely rests on my shoulders. Due to the fact that the Autobots prefer to station themselves within our borders and ally with our forces, they will follow my orders. As will you. If not, then they can leave the sanctity, security, and alliance we have. It’s time we ended this war once and for all!”
“Please, sir,” Lennox said, with as much authoritative pleading as possible, “allow Mister Chase and his team to analyze this stuff first. Let them determine what isn’t dangerous. Keep it under wraps. Then, use the stuff that isn’t dangerous as the bait. Don’t risk everything we have rebuilt and secured just to end the war so recklessly!”
“GENERAL,” Kendrick said angrily, before being stopped by the raising of the President’s hand.
“General Lennox,” the President said through gritted teeth, “your opinion is duly noted. However, our decision is final. We are in a majority agreement. Now, you have your orders. Bring the bait. Set the trap. End this war! Now!”
“Sir!” Lennoz said sharply as he snapped to attention and saluted. “Yes, sir!”
With that, Lennox spun sharply and left the Oval Office, defeated but determined. As he made his way through the White House to the door, he decided he would follow the President’s orders, his way! He would not let all they had worked so hard to achieve be lost on the vanity of former soldiers turned politicians!
He exited the White House and his driver already had the armor plated limousine’s back door open for him. Once in the vehicle with the door closed behind him, he faced the two other occupants of his ride that had remained carefully concealed in the roomy interior.
“Didn’t listen to you, did they?” the elder of the two asked him sarcastically.
Lennox laughed. “No, Simmons, they didn’t. Now, how in the world did you know they were going to do that?”
Seymour Simmons , the former director of the now defunct Sector 7 and the former director, now political advisor, of N.E.S.T., laughed. “Because, Will, I still have ears and I have been listening to them ever since things got too quiet! Seeing how far the history of the Cybertronians on Earth goes back, I couldn’t do anything less. I will not let anyone manipulate or use them or their technology for anything other than the protection of the human race!”
“Yeah, well, now it looks like you get to prevent our own government from doing that,” Lennox told him.
“Ah, they’re politicians,” Simmons said dismissively, “they’ll get over it once we’ve done things the right way and proven them wrong. Then, McCollum can look brilliant from our hard work and win his second term! How about you, kid? You ready to go where very few have gone before?”
The younger of the three shifted in his seat and leaned forward as he pushed his glasses back up on his nose. “I’ve been waiting to my whole life, Mister Simmons! Working with Optimus and the others, even the N.E.S.T., has been beyond my wildest dreams but, going to the moon, well, that has always been my wildest dream!” Chip Chase leaned back in the seat, smiling like an overeager teenager on his first date rather than the twenty five year old genius he was.
Lennox laughed. “Yeah, I got to say, I never thought I’d be going to the moon!” He pushed a button on a middle of the seat console and said “Conners, get us to the airfield, shortest route, and let them know to get ready, we’re heading to the N.E.S.T.”
“Yes, sir,” came the response from the driver of limousine and on they went.
“Another dead end. Blaster bolts! This is getting ridiculous!”
“I don’t get it! These ‘cons shouldn’t be able to hide from me! I’ve tracked their sorry metal hides in tougher places than this Earth! What makes this rock of a planet so special anyway!?”
“Crank it down, Bluestreak, before you blow a circuit. Hound, you know, sometimes, you don’t always find the bolt in the scrap heap.”
The Decepticon Hunters, a team of seven highly specialized Autobot warriors who, since the fall of Cybertron to the Decepticons, have been hunting and killing their enemies one or a few at a time all across the stars, surveyed the valley floor from the rocky overlook. Bluestreak, a fierce and swift frontline warrior, organized the team and, being one of the best shots on Cybertron, has scored more Decepticon kills than rust! After some persuading, the trackers, Hound and Trailbreaker, joined him. With their help, it was easy to locate and assemble a truly deadly team of Autobots. Warpath, the ultimate Autobot when it comes to heavy weapons use, was looking for an effective way to dish out payback. Powerglide, always looking for a chance to out fly and out fight the Decepticons gladly signed up. Cliffjumper was easy to convince and, despite being too fast and reckless in his job, has continued to serve as one of the finest Autobot scouts. Brawn, perhaps the strongest ever Cybertronian after Optimus Prime and Megatron, was ready to pound the enemy as soon as Bluestreak gave him the sales pitch.
After many long chrono units, the Hunters had finally picked up the transmission sent by Optimus to come to Earth. They changed course immediately, knowing that wherever Optimus was, there would be Decepticons to hunt and kill. Much to their dismay, they had arrived just after the final war with Megatron and his top soldiers. Still, there was hope for the Hunters, as a dozen or more Decepticons had gone in to hiding. Knowing Bluestreak’s reputation, Optimus had assigned point on the hunt to his team. They had been assigned a highly skilled group of N.E.S.T. operatives as well, led by Captain Marisa Faireborne and piloting the latest in VTOL fighters. Although Bluestreak didn’t see humans as a significant ally at first, reports and recordings of their role in the war changed his mind.
“Come on, Hound, give me something!” Bluestreak demanded with frustration.
Hound shook his head. “Sorry, boss, whatever that signal was, it was not a Decepticon and, now, it’s completely gone. What is it with this planet, anyway?”
“Want me to do a quick speed through, Bluestreak? You know, in case Hound here needs a three thousand lightyear checkup!” Cliffjumper cracked.
Trailbreaker laughed. “Easy, scout! Don’t get old Hound wound, now. Remember the last time you did?”
Cliffjumper chuckled. “Oh, yeah! Okay, well, anyway, how about it, boss?”
Bluestreak shook his head and looked to the sky above the valley of jungle below. “If Powerglide and Faireborne can’t pick up anything top side, it’d be a waste of energon, Cliffjumper.”
“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you but, KABAM, I’m ready to head back out to space and find some Decptiscum to, POW, blast to bits!” Warpath stated emphatically. “There’s still a war going on out there and, BOOM, Cybertron is just waiting for us to take her back!”
“Warpath is right, Bluestreak,” Brawn said. “This isn’t what we should be doing! Scattershot and Silverbolt are still out there with their teams doing what we WERE doing before coming here! The blasted ‘cons still have control of Cybertron even if Megatron is scrap! With him and his top lieutenants fragged, whoever is still there running the show can’t be too much trouble to take down!”
Bluestreak looked at his five friends. “So, you think we should abandon our leader, and attempt to retake our home, without him to lead us?”
“You are OUR leader, Bluestreak!” Cliffjumper answered.
“Hold on, team,” Hound interjected. “We might be sparking for Decepticon heads but, Optimus Prime is still the leader of the Autobots. If any attempt to retake Cybertron is to be made, we do it following him. It’s only right.”
“Aw, cut the wires, Hound!” Cliffjumper retorted. “Optimus is too busy here with these humans to bother with it!”
“That’s enough! All of you!” Bluestreak said suddenly. “Look, we are now part of a much larger force of Autobots here. There are at least a dozen Decepticreeps left alive on this planet. Until they are eliminated to prevent them from surprising us from behind when we launch for Cybertron, we keep hunting. We keep following Optimus Prime! He has always been the best of us! He has earned our loyalty constantly!”
“Well, now, KABLOWIE, the boss has a point!” Warpath replied. “Optimus did, BANG, take apart the Fallen, Megatron, Shockwave, AND, KABOOM, Sentinel Prime’s traitorous scrap!”
Brawn shrugged. “Look, I’m just saying, we’d of done had half a dozen ‘cons mounted as trophies out there in the amount of time we’ve found NONE here. That’s all! I’ve fought beside Optimus enough to know he’s our best bet to reclaim our homeworld. I might be a brute of a bruiser but I’m not stupid.”
“Then, let it drop,” Bluestreak said, as communication came over the air waves.
“This is Powerglide calling down to Bluestreak from the blue sky,” the brash voice said through the communicators. “You there, boss?”
Blustreak looked up to where Powerglide and the N.E.S.T. VTOLs were hovering. “Bluestreak here, Powerglide. What’s the situation?”
“The amazing Powerglide and Captain Faireborne have completed our task to perfection,” the rare airborn Autobot replied. “There is no trace of Deceptibum or energon in a one hundred mile sweep. I hate to disappoint you, boss.”
Bluestreak shook his head. “Alright. Captain Faireborne, do you copy?”
The twenty seven year old fighter ace of N.E.S.T., in fact the entire planet, stared at the canopy of jungle below as the call came across to her. “Faireborne here, Bluestreak. Over.”
“Take your team and Powerglide back to the rendezvous point. The rest of us will roll out to meet you there.” Bluestreak told her.
“Will do, Bluestreak,” the young woman replied. “Sorry we didn’t bag any kills today, partners. Faireborne out.”
As Powerglide and the N.E.S.T. VTOLs turned and flew off to their mobile base aboard the USS Witwicky, anchored just off the coast, Bluestreak turned to his other team members.
“So, we are all in agreement? We follow Optimus Prime. We get these ‘cons! Then, we go home!”
Each of them nodded in agreement. Then, as one, they all transformed into their earth based vehicular modes. As they headed along the mountain road to the coast, any one seeing them would be amazed at the sight. A driverless Jeep, Hummer, Denali, an armed and armored truck, a Baha, and a Mustang traveling a dirt road through tropical climates would truly make one believe the heat had gotten to them at last. However, to the eyes watching from below, beneath the jungle canopy, it was watching another victory without firing a shot.
Deep beneath the surface of the Earth are many, many tunnels, caverns, and places and things no human eye has ever seen. There is one such cavern seated nearly three miles beneath the floor of the Pacific Ocean. It is accessible only be a very extensive series of tunnels that exit in an underground lake within the confines of the Grand Canyon. It is filled with a diverse array of rocks, precious stones, rare ores, and, even, some unidentifiable things. The fifteen feet long worms that crawl along and feed off the plant growth on the walls and ceiling of the cavern are one such thing.
One very familiar thing to human eyes would be a large, metal cylinder running from the floor to the ceiling, with doors at floor level. Upon closer examination, one would discover the cylinder extends through the several miles of stone, rock, and dirt to just below the ocean’s floor and, then, turns, to become an exit in an underwater, water free cave that exits into the ocean amidst several dozen undersea steam vents. Another familiar sight would be the occupants of the massive cavern. Decepticons!
He surveyed the surroundings and the inventory his troops had brought in. He watched as they began piecing things together into a new command center. They worked tirelessly, following his plans and commands. Soon, his base would be complete and his troops would be ready to strike.
Yes, he thought, his troops! How fitting it was, in spite of the tragic losses to the Decepticon legions, that he, Thunderwing, the mightiest of Megatron’s soldiers, now stood alone as heir to his former master’s throne! He laughed within himself as he considered all those who Megatron had so foolishly placed ahead of him in the hierarchy.
Starscream, though strategically brilliant, had been nothing more than conniving weasel, seeking every opportunity to dethrone Megatron and, yet, Megatron tolerated him. Pathetic.
Shockwave had great power and technology prowess but, he had relied too much on those things and not enough on adaptability and strategy. Pitiful.
Soundwave had great intellect and had been Megatron’s main intelligence officer but, in combat, he had only been adequate. That he had been destroyed by Bumblebee, the Autobot’s weak scout, made Soundwave so beneath him it was laughable!
Then, there was Sixshot, whom Megatron had left in charge on Cyberton, was nothing more than powerful brute whose sole strategy was to overpower and destroy his enemies. Yes, he could see why Megatron left Sixshot in charge as the powerful Lieutenant had no ambitions to rule, just kill Autobots!
Truly, Thunderwing outshone them all, he tought to himself, for they were now all dead! Only he remained, formerly accompanying Shockwave and Sentinel Prime to this planet’s moon, now standing alone, with what remained of the Decepticon forces that had not been transported back to Cybertron before it vanished through the spacebridge. Yes, he thought, it was now Thunderwing, whose power, strategy, skill, and ability had only ever been outmatched by Megatron alone, who was where he deserved to be, as the Decepticon leader.
He studied what he had for an army. They were not many but, they were impressive and would, when the time came, be more than able to do what needed to be done.
After the catastrophe of the spacebridge and the loss of all who had fallen that day, he and these fifteen had sought out a place suitably undetectable to begin establishing a base of operations. They had gone through several locations, being forced to move many times when the Autobots or the accursed humans got too close and they realized the place they were in was vulnerable to scans. Finally, they had found this massive place by chance, while fleeing Autobot detection in the Grand Canyon.
It had taken them years to acquire the equipment they now had in place but, time, they all agreed, would be their best weapon in the end. Now, they had two ways in to their base, an energon conversion line tapped into an extremely large magma flow beneath them, and carefully concealed sensors that kept them linked into the world’s information networks and satellite telemetry. They had watched the many other Autobots arrive on Earth, had witnessed the construction of the Guardian moon base, and regularly watched the Autobot and human patrols that were searching for them.
Thunderwing surveyed the latest reports on their progress on a data pad as three of his loyal followers approached.
“Lord Thunderwing,” Astrotrain said, “the ore processing machine has been completed and we are ready to begin construction of your magnificent creation.”
Thunderwing looked up at the three. Astrotrain was quite powerful as Decepticons go, large and able to transform into a space vessel or a land transport with a good mind for technology. He was also fiercely loyal to whoever leads the Decepticons. Blitzwing was another powerful soldier in Thunderwing’s army, capable of becoming an ariel or ground based war machine with a sharp strategy processor. Octane was quite invaluable as he had a great talent for inventions and machines, something lacking among the Decepticon ranks, and able to convert to a land or air based energy transport. He was glad to have this trio of triple changelings serving him.
“That is good news, Astrotrain,” Thunderwing told his lackey with evil joy. “Now, Octane, the ores in this cavern, will they suffice, or do we need something stronger?”
Octane stepped forward. “The ores we have found here we have never encountered before. There are other ores, more familiar to us, located in various mines across this planet, that I would trust more until I have had time to test these.”
“I see.” Thunderwing paused to consider the options. “Octane, we have time. Begin tests. In the meantime, are the ESDs ready and working?”
“Perfectly, Lord Thunderwing,” Octane answered.
“Good,” the Decepticon leader said, “very good indeed. Blitzwing.”
“I am at your command,” Blitzwing said as he stepped forward.
“Blitzwing, outfit yourself, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Sunstorm, and Ramjet with the ESDs. Octane, provide them the energy signatures of the best ores to look for. Then, Blitzwing, you and the others are to conduct low altitude scans over every mountain range on this ball of dirt. Once you have mapped every reading, return to base and we will begin the process of ore collection.”
“Finally, a chance to fly again,” Blitzwing responded.
“NO!” Thunderwing snapped. “No, Blitzwing, this is not a chance to fly. We cannot risk any Autobot confrontation. Only after we complete my creation shall we unleash the total fury of our vengeance upon Optimus Prime and his pathetic little Autobot army! Now, go.”
“Not a problem, Lord Thunderwing. I understand.” Blitzwing then turned with Octane to begin the quest for ore.
“Astrotrain,” Thunderwing said, turning to his personal right hand, “Have Motor Master and the others begin preparing as much of the components as we can without ore. Then, take an ESD and see how close you can get to the Autobot’s moon base without being seen or detected. Then, plant a concealed MRV scanner and return to base. I must know what they have found among the wreckage there.”
“It will be done, sir,” Astrotrain stated. Then, he turned and left to carry out his orders.
Thunderwing leaned back in his makeshift throne, satisfied that, soon, the Autobots would be no more!
“Good good good,” the giant metal insect said. “Our cloaking works perfectly perfectly perfectly.”
From its perch among leafy, tall trees, it watched six Autobots transform and drive off and eight aircraft veer off towards the coast. Only the most observant eye would have even seen the monstrous thing through the tree canopy of the valley jungle and, even then, would have thought it nothing more than the canopy shifting in the wind.
“Are they leaving, Shrapnel?” a voice asked from the jungle floor.
“Yes, Bombshell, yes yes, yes,” Shrapnel answered. “They are heading to the coast coast coast. We are free to resume our work work work.”
Shrapnel cringed at the end of every sentence. Thanks to the permanent damage to his vocal circuits at the hands of an Autobot, his last words always echo. It was humiliating but, he always tried to choose his words carefully to sound more ominous. Leaving the tree tops, Shrapnel spread metal filament wings and floated his deadly goliath beetle form to the ground amidst his followers. Bombshell, an expert in technology and weaponry, transformed from his earth form of a giant dragonfly as his leader landed. The others followed suit.
Kickback, a hand to hand warfare specialist, changed from his large king grasshopper form. Chopclaw, an expert in torture and other unsavory procedures, reverted from his monster praying mantis form. Ransack, a deadly spy and scout, transformed from his oversized assassin bug form. Venomizer, an ariel combat specialist, reverted back from his deadly giant wasp form. Barger, a master of construction and destruction, reverted from his oversized harvester ant form. Following their lead, Shrapnel reverted to his robot form as well.
“Zo, Zrapnel, do you think they will return?” Venomizer asked.
Ransack laughed. “Are you kidding? They were looking right at us and didn’t see us! Bombshell and Barger did real good on these camo scramblers! Those Autodummies won’t know we hit them!”
“I would not be so arrogant, Ransack,” Chopclaw stated. “After all, it was that same arrogance that resulted in Megatron’s termination.”
“We’re better off without him and his flunkies, CC!” Kickback said empahatically. “It’s been too long since we Insecticons were respected. Just because Megadoof didn’t appreciate our more fine tuned approach!”
“Aye, let his sorry hide rot in space!” Barger proclaimed. “Good riddance to bad leadership, I say!”
“Zo many timez we thought to have zeen hiz end only to zee him return,” Chopclaw advised his comrades. “Zo I will not count hiz zorry hide gone until he doez not return! The zame goes for Zoundwave, Zhockwave, and Ztarzcream! With them gone, we Inzecticonz can take Zybertron with eaze!”
“Patience patience patience,” Shrapnel advised his loyal band. “We stand at the dawn of destiny destiny destiny. Soon, we’ll have an army greater than Megatron dared dream dream dream! Now, Bombshell, continue the tests tests tests. We must know if these last forms will fail or be perfect perfect perfect!”
Bombshell nodded. “I don’t have any doubts, Shrapnel. The Locust, African Bee, and Mosquito should prove to be the perfect models for our army. I only have to get the drone mind programming working properly and we can begin mass production once we have enough material and energon.”
“Excellent excellent excellent,” Shrapnel told his most trusted friend. “While you work we shall gather what we need need need! Insecticons, to our destiny destiny destiny!”
With that command, the seven treacherous Decepticons called Insecticons went their separate paths to fulfill their diabolical scheme!