Earth.
Home to the human race, this planet has become the new battleground in our ancient war against the Decepticons. Twice have we placed the humans at risk, incurring the lasting wrath of Megatron.
Yet beyond the confines of our civil war, a deeper evil festers.
Eons ago, caught in a civil war on our home planet, we jettisoned the Cube into space. To protect it from Megatron, we sacrificed Cybertron.
Our home lays in the thrall of the Decepticons now. Headed by Megatron's most vicious lieutenant.
And I fear we may never see our home again.
Mars.
The Nemesis.
Starscream and Megatron.
In the arid wastes of the dead orb the humans call 'The Red Planet', amid the shattered ruins of the once-mighty fleet carrier Nemesis, Megatron sat, cozened safely in a prostrate stasis platform. Surrounded by length upon length of micro and macro-cables, secured into the platform, channelling energon's restorative powers to his Spark, feeding his joints and servos and processors. Repairing every circuit, bypassing every relay. Making him whole once more.
Yes, cozened.
Lied to.
Betrayed.
As ever.
It was Megatron's lot to be surrounded by the dissembling, the cowardly, the fanatical, the weak. All were attracted to the promise he swore to deliver.
Domination.
As his master had promised him. And then summarily failed to deliver.
He could trust no one.
His optics burned brilliant red for a moment and their steel covers narrowed, and the irony was not lost on him.
The lessons he had tried to instil in his own puny warriors...he had himself come to believe in them. And the abstractions of domination had once again eluded his grasp.
When Prime plunged that sabre into his master's head and ripped out his Spark.
Megatron's vocoder rumbled.
His optics glowed red once more and he sat upright. The cables snapped away from his form in pneumatic pops and whistles and retreated automatically into the ceiling and board circuitries.
Trust could not be writ large. Could not be simply taken.
And initiative was inborn. Innate. Immutable. From those who were of like processors.
He stood. Clenched one manipulator into a cold steel fist.
"Starscream," he bellowed across the darkened expanse of the Nemesis. "Come here. I want you."
The Air Commander was suddenly at Megatron's side. Like he always was. He had taken the form of a human aircraft—something they called an 'F-22 Raptor'. And in Megatron's absence, Starscream had retreated to Cybertron. Given himself new tattoos in the ancient language as a form of war paint.
Starscream bowed on one avian leg, kept his gaze on the floor. When he spoke, the vox was low and grovelling. "What do you command, mighty Megatron?"
Megatron was standing free of the stasis platform now, his burning red optics gazing longingly through the slatted hole in the Nemesis' hull. Above, the stars shone with age-old brilliance. Shining as they did when Primus first created Cybertron.
Megatron's vocoder grumbled again.
He turned to Starscream.
"Our previous attempts were a failure, Starscream."
"Master, I must disag—"
Megatron turned and batted Starscream away with his manipulator. "Do not question me, you pewling fool. The Allspark eluded my grasp, and the humans twice have driven us back. We will strike anew. We must."
Starscream massaged his cranium gently. "Master. Why? Our fortunes are intact. Why risk another defeat?"
Megatron turned slowly to the Air Commander. Oddly receptive. "You have another plan?"
"We should return to Cybertron!" Starscream said. His optics were brilliant with enthusiasm for a moment. "Wipe out the resistance that has plagued Shockwave for these long cycles. Reconstitute our armies. And then crush the Autobots forever!"
Megatron condescended. "You couldn't lead androids to a picnic, Starscream." Megatron clutched Starscream's head in his claws. His vox rumbled, animalistic and furious. "I must win this war. I must get free, and in Prime's mind is the key."
"Couldn't—" Starscream choked out—"couldn't we simply...leave this place? You have your army aboard this ship. Why not open a bridge to Cybertron and reclaim it. Shockwave has left matters as you commanded. It would be all too easy to reclaim what was once yours."
Megatron released Starscream. "Victory in this war," he maintained, "comes with the lasting death of Prime. Cybertron is a hiding place."
"The humans routed us," Starscream said. "It was unavoidable."
"Then we must eliminate Prime's human conspirators, first and foremost. Break his spirit!"
Starscream stood and slunk away slowly.
"The final stage of the war begins with the new marshalling of our remaining forces."
Megatron was at a solid part of the Nemesis' hull. He waved his hand over a motion sensor and two dim platforms in the wall wheezed with the slow release of compression gas, then slid apart. The viewscreen flickered to life.
The shape on the other end was tall, dark. Fearful. Imposing.
A bipedal violet behemoth in steel, crested by a slim hexagonal head and a glowing yellow headlamp.
Shockwave.
The single headlamp glowed at the sight of Megatron.
"Lord Megatron," Shockwave said, dispassionately. As ever. As if ten thousand cycles had not passed since his leader had entrusted all of Cybertron to Shockwave. "What do you command?"
"Reports of my offline status were greatly exaggerated," Megatron said. "I want you and a squadron of our best troops in my presence inside one cycle, Shockwave. Understood?"
"Acknowledged. I shall leave Cybertron in the care of the Headmasters."
"Good," Megatron said. "It would be unfortunate if I had to leave our crown jewel unattended." The image faded.
Across the void, Shockwave stood from his console and immediately sent a summons for Skywarp and Thundercracker.
Aboard the Nemesis, Megatron turned away from the screen and grabbed Starscream by the steel ring about his neck.
"Summon Soundwave."
Megatron released his grip on the Air Commander. In another moment, Starscream was in flight, flipping and contorting himself into his assumed earthly form, and shooting away from the ruined Nemesis in a high and spinning arc.
The Earth's marbled spheroid came into view a moment later. Starscream slowed to impulse power as his sensors registered Soundwave in the distance—a slim and spindly satellite motionless against the Earth.
He had never liked Soundwave.
Had loathed Megatron.
In the deepest centres of his processors, Starscream's hatred grew.
Earth.
Optimus Prime.
In the aftermath of Megatron and The Fallen's scheme to destroy Earth's sun, and the rescue of their human familiar Sam Witwicky from the brink of death, the Autobot's alliance with Earth governments had improved. Somewhat.
Perhaps it was natural that they engender mistrust.
The irony was not lost on Optimus Prime. He and his kind were larger-than-life robotic organisms from a distant world. It was not hyperbole to say so.
Mistrust, unfortunate as it was, was the humans' right.
So it grieved him to say and think and do so. But it was natural.
The facts, such as they were, were that the Autobots were not at home anymore. And their homeworld was dead.
All of this, Prime told to Captain William Lennox.
"Even if Cybertron were alive," Prime continued. "It would still be unfeasible for us to return."
"Uh-huh," Lennox said. His eyes narrowed, slightly confused. "Why's that?"
"When we launched the Cube into space, Megatron followed it, and we in turn followed him."
"Leaving the place to them," Lennox supplied.
Prime nodded and his optics looked down. Weary.
"I'm sorry," Lennox said. He shifted weight from one leg to the other, nervous. He wasn't sure why he was apologizing. But he was. He wanted to sympathise. Blackout—though Lennox'd only figured out that name later—had destroyed Lennox's base in Qatar. Killed most of his friends, comrades, and officers. Once Megatron had been dumped in the ocean and a team finally dispatched to assess the base damage, there was nothing left. A few burned out husks of 130s, a couple of overturned tanks, charred from the attack and strip-mined for parts by interested (and long-gone) scavengers.
Those were the limits of Blackout's mercy.
It was training alone that kept Lennox and his men alive. And he had to admit—every so often since 'D-Day'—how it felt to slide under that damn helicopter and pop the sabot round right into his damn chest.
Soldiers don't do revenge.
Lennox did.
He'd almost resigned because of it.
Morshower kept him in. Said he needed men like Lennox if these robots weren't going to go away anytime soon.
So Lennox had stayed. Against his will, at first, but it got better. By the time of Shanghai, life was good for Will Lennox. Very good.
So there was guilt. Sure. Lots of it. It's to be had in this line of work, he'd supposed.
"No need to apologise, Captain. Our world is a mausoleum now, gated in by death and destruction, and the Decepticons are holding the keys."
Lennox thought for a moment. "Is there a way to get it back?"
Prime looked at Lennox squarely. "I cannot risk the lives of my troops. They are brave, but the Decepticons are furious. And they do not stop."
"Yeah," Lennox said. "Don't we know it..."
Uncharacteristically, Prime leaned in toward Lennox. "Captain," he said. "You have my eternal gratitude for allowing us to stay here. The threat of Megatron still looms, but I am glad that you and your people have chosen to stand with us and allow more of our number to come here."
Lennox looked into Optimus' big, blue optics. Slightly overcome, he gathered his military bearing and came around. "You helped save us from your friend Megatron. Least we can do is provide asylum. Now what about these new arrivals?"
Optimus stood and walked at Lennox's pace down the hangar.
"You already know Wheeljack. Allow me to introduce you to Prowl..."
22,000 miles above Galway, Ireland.
Starscream and Soundwave.
Soundwave barely gave Starscream notice when the Seeker Commander approached him, but he knew Starscream was there. He was always bloody knew.
Cycles ago, and as near as Starscream's impatient processor could figure, it had been Soundwave's sole duty to be imposing enough that the others wouldn't dare cross him. Probably he was put up to this by Megatron, who needed an obedient lapdog; the same way Megatron had put custody of Cybertron up to Shockwave because the cycloptic little slagheap was the only other one really and fully loyal. It had also been Soundwave's job—and this one he took upon himself with particular elation—to harry and hinder Starscream at more or less every turn.
As much as a Decepticon processor could rationalise something like 'getting along', Starscream and Soundwave never had. There always was a struggle for dominance.
Always.
Partially it was because Starscream was never able to beat Soundwave in single combat; whenever one of their low-grade lubricating matches came around, Soundwave would sic his 'pets' on a given combatant and then sit back and watch. It was dirty and lazy. Even by Starscream's standards.
In another way, it was because Soundwave was always going on about how superior he was, so much so that by the time the Autobots launched the Cube into space, Starscream wanted to throw Soundwave after it in the empirical interest of seeing what happened. It was all very put up or shut up.
The fact of the matter had been that even before their initial dalliance with the humans two of their years ago, Starscream had interceded on Megatron's departed behalf and taken control, and there were Decepticons who, quite naturally, despised Starscream's showing of initiative. Blackout and Soundwave particularly. One he could handle. The other happened to be Soundwave.
Yet Starscream assume command anyway.
Most of them came on-side with no question and no choice—Barricade, Grindor, Thundercracker and Skywarp. Others came on and brought their stupid little opinions with them—Blackout mostly, but since the humans had removed that particular obstacle, Starscream's life was a little easier.
There was still Soundwave.
Doggedly loyal to Megatron. Doggedly persistent that any expedition to Earth had to be for the sole mission of finding Megatron and then, and only then, retrieving the Cube.
Incapacitating the humans was secondary.
Punishing them for their treatment of Wreckage was secondary.
Giving them anything other than a disdain that, to Soundwave himself, was entirely justified, was also secondary.
Starscream accelerated as he passed the Earth Moon. And he wanted, so badly, to shove a vibro-pike into Soundwave's spark. Just to see his optics flare for a moment and his pets freeze in astonishment at the death of their silly little master.
Yes, that was it. He was little.
They were all so little.
Starscream's vox emitted a disgusted little growl.
Not so long ago, during that first dalliance two of their years ago, Starscream had done Soundwave one better by extinguishing two sparks with one blow. Finding the Cube and Megatron not a kilometre from it by the use of one of Soundwave's old pets—the one he'd bequeathed to Barricade in the early stages of the war.
Things never changed.
Like Megatron and Shockwave (though that was with good reason), Soundwave had stayed in his native form, a Cybertronian satellite with spindly, insectoid extensions and compartments hiding his pets.
Starscream approached. Low altitude, impulse speed. He didn't want to perturb Soundwave—who as it turned out enjoyed the preferential treatment Starscream accorded him. Neither did Starscream want Soundwave to sic his little goons on him.
One of those goons had been castrated in Egypt; Bumblebee had ripped out Ravage's spine in a remarkable showing. The rest of them, though, Soundwave kept under lock and key, hidden away beneath his satellite panels.
Starscream's slowness didn't work at any rate. Rumble was the first one out. He perched himself on Soundwave's shoulder, while Soundwave came about to stare Starscream in the face. Laserbeak was next, hovering about Soundwave's head, while Ratbat perched itself on the other shoulder.
Starscream twisted again into his bipedal form. The F-22 wings folded on gossamer platings and slid back behind what the humans would have called 'shoulders'. His spindly appendages and digits were clawed, and he let them hover in an eerie curl about his midsection. So it looked like he was going to tackle Soundwave without actually doing anything. This was Starscream sharpening his claws. Slightly.
"Call them off," Starscream said and narrowed his optics for effect.
"Negative," was all Soundwave said. It was all he ever said. Thoroughly uncharismatic. "Soundwave requests explanation for presence."
"Megatron commands you to make contact with him," Starscream said, inflecting at all the right points to sound just contemptuous enough. "Cease your operations here and follow me back to the Nemesis."
"Soundwave does not recognize your authority."
Starscream threw an accusatory claw forward. "You will listen to me, you clattering collection of circuits! I am your leader!"
"Starscream inferior. Soundwave superior."
That rankled him. He powered away from Soundwave—at which Rumble finally stopped bristling. Starscream shot Rumble a dirty look, and then transformed back into his jet mode.
"Hate me all you want, Soundwave," he said over the vox and sounded pompous as ever. "Your loyalty was never in question, but if you doubt me...if you don't return right now, it certainly will be."
Starscream powered his thrusters to full amplitude, and blasted away. Didn't even wait for a reply.
Slowly, carefully, logically, Soundwave yawed and powered his thrusters to life. Rumble, Laserbeak and Ratbat returned to their hiding places. Then Soundwave was gone. Rocketing in a thin arc toward the humans' Red Planet.
Earth. Diego Garcia.
Optimus Prime and Cpt. William Lennox.
It was Morshower over the viewscreen. Looking worried—harried—as usual.
"Lennox, get your men up, we've got a blip on the radar in Toronto."
Lennox's brow furrowed. "An unauthorized arrival?"
Morshower nodded. "More like a resurfacing. We think we've seen him before."
"Do you have a visual, General?"
"Sending it to your mobile. It's moving fast, in and out of sensor range, but we think it's a car."
Prime leaned in. "What kind of car?"
"A police car," Morshower said.
Lennox sighed and his eyebrows raised and fell slowly in that 'color me surprised' way. "Acknowledged," he said and switched the viewscreen off. He turned around.
The gantry was a square, twenty feet high to meet with Prime's field of vision and open totally on one end to allow his vehicle form to enter and exit at will. On the northwest corner of the gantry was an impressive array of communications and monitoring software, meant to connect NEST HQ with Centcom in Washington and elsewhere.
Lennox looked at Prime, who looked oddly concerned. "Well?"
"Barricade," Prime said, calmly. "Allow us to deal with it, Captain."
"You want back-up?"
Prime was in vehicle mode already and Lennox slid down the gantry stairs to keep pace as the semi-truck rolled out of the hangar. Lennox caught up in a moment and strode quickly alongside Prime, right next to his headlamps. They blinked on and off as he spoke in a kind of Morse code.
"Send a squad to help, if you feel it necessary," Prime said over the vox. In a slightly louder voice that Lennox was sure piped into the auditory receptors of every Autobot in range (and probably any Decepticons monitoring, which he was sure there were), Prime said, "Prowl and Ratchet, report to the landing strip for deployment."
Continued...