New story! This time I'm stepping into the territory of the Transformers Film franchise (uh-oh). And as much as the movies sucked, the background franchise was pretty good. However, I did notice something missing...
What the hell happened on Cybertron?
Sure we all knew what happened before the first movie (if you've read the comics) but rarely did a tie-in comic chronicle what happened on Cybertron during the movies or inbetween them (The only one that did that slightly was 'The Reign of Starscream', which will tie-in with this story). So, in all my wisdom, I've decided to do a rather long epic that chronicles what happens on said planet during the first movie while tying in with any comic that might reference it. This will be a daunting task (especially with school resuming next week), so I hope I'll be able to finish it before 2012. NOTE: This is a haven for minor characters from the movie franchise that you never saw and will even have a bunch of OCs!
ANOTHER NOTE: If this turns into a success (over a hundred reviews) then I may write sequels about what happens on Cybertron during the next two movies.
Until then, please read and review, and thank you for your time.
There was not even a whisper in the dark. In their silence, they almost crawled through the night.
A night that would never change. A night that would never end.
They slipped through the shadows of the homes and houses of their enemies. The towering metal constructs, looming over the figures in the night. There was no-one in these homes. There was no-one but the figures in the dark.
They could hear the sound of distant battle. They knew their friends were fighting, dying. Dying, on the slim chance that the figures in the shadows would save them. Dying in that battle. Another pointless, soon-to-be-forgotten battle. All for nothing.
Well, not for nothing. One more day alive. Just another day on the dying planet. That was worth fighting for.
They passed under the shadow of a dark tower. The infernal construct loomed above all others, a symbol of dominance and a symbol of fear. It had once carried the face of the most feared creature in their pitiful existence. The face of pure evil had loomed over the city, submitting every denizen of the planet around him to his will. A symbol of tyranny above all others. Never to be forgotten.
The creature was Megatron. He was dead. And his face had long since vanished from the dark tower.
The new order had risen.
But the figures in the shadow cared not about the dark tower or the face that had been upon it. They passed it without a sound, without a whisper, merely shivering at the memories of that hateful creature. They moved on, as they had done for so long.
When they finally reached their destination, it was nothing compared to the dark tower. Just a simple command centre, built over the old temple it had once been, catching the darkness of the night and blocking the optics of the shadowy figures.
They reached the bottom step of many hundreds and began to climb. Without a sound. Not even a whisper.
They knew what they had to do. One more day alive counted on it.
But just before they reached the top step, ready to enter the old temple, another figure barred their way.
Silhouetted against the sun-stripped sky, the figure gazed down at the silent intruders. The figure brooded menace with calm, cold, cunning and a bloodlust few could match. It towered over them all, two red eyes glowing in the night, mace in right hand and the left, a gun. Its eyes were glazed with psychotic madness, while the mace in hand he gripped with murderous intent. The darkness didn't wash over him: instead, it seemed to radiate from his very soul.
"Ha!" the figure barked with insane amusement, "Have the Sons of Primus returned already?"
The silent figures before him remained in their current state. They stared up with awe and fear.
"The déjà vu, how strange it is!" the figure called out to the silent city of terror, "To stand above my enemies yet again, although not coloured by the fires of war!"
One of the figures below him spoke out.
"You are the one they call Onslaught, are you not? The Butcher of Bocras?"
Onslaught stared down at them again, a new look in his eye.
"'The Butcher'?" he reiterated, in a strange tone, "A butcher? So this is how I am to be remembered…? As a common killer, not as the master of victories I really am?"
"'Master of victories'?" the lead shadow spat, "You are nothing more than a crazed murderer, looking for his next head to add to his collection!"
The darkness swallowed them all. The sounds of distant battle played on Onslaught's ears. He was pained by both the sounds of the battle and the sound of the accuser before him.
"I am a head-hunter now?" he almost choked, the mace in his right hand slipping a bit, "Me? I looked down on such petty foolishness…"
"Liar!" the lead shadow cried out, "You're a cannibal, who killed his own troops, ate their sparks and tossed their bodies on the barricade at Bocras!"
This accusation caused Onslaught to burst out laughing. He stared down at the terrified soldiers before him, a smile on his lips, a cold distance in his eyes.
"You mean Bocras, on the other side of this city?" he roared with amusement, "Don't be so pathetic! You stand before me, like terrified hatchlings when you are no doubt here as part of the battle! The last time an enemy stood before me on these steps, he looked me in the optic and told me how pathetic I was! And yet you stand before me, the gastric acid running down your legs from the sheer horror of my legacy? This war is truly coming to an end!"
The figures before him quivered with fear, staring up at the booming Onslaught. But the figure in the lead took control of his terror and stood up straight.
"I-I am Strongarm!" he proclaimed, "And y-you are… pathetic!"
Onslaught stared right into Strongarm's eyes.
"That's more like it," he whispered with manic intensity, "But do you know what happened to the bot that called me that?"
Strongarm was unmoved.
"I mashed his head so hard that it took a quartex to remove all the energon from the steps. It looked like he had been flushed through the belly of some of the worst creatures that live under this planet."
Strongarm's eyes betrayed his fear.
"And do you know what his soldiers did?" Onslaught indicated behind Strongarm to his troops, "They surrendered. And I mashed them up even harder."
Strongarm had had enough. His fist became a cannon, and he aimed it at Onslaught's head.
"Silence!" he shouted, "Now tell me: Is this where the drone shut-off switch is located?"
Onslaught's mace became tight in his hand. "Yes."
"Then stand aside or die!"
They stood each other down in the dead of night. A million stars stared down from the heavens.
Onslaught frowned. "Aren't you even going ask which side I'm on?" he asked.
Strongarm hesitated. "W-Well… whose then? Starscream's or Dreadwing's?"
Onslaught opened his mouth to answer, but the word got caught in his throat. He had thought about the answer he would always give, the answer that would state whether he had been a winner in history or a forgotten loser. The answer that would affirm him of what kind of a Decepticon he really was.
But then he realised the silliness of it all. He laughed.
"You know what…? I don't even care," he growled.
Then he knocked Strongarm's cannon away with his mace and charged.
You know, it wasn't always like this…
War was once cheap. War was once clean. War was where you fought for what you believed in. Freedom. Control. Equality. Power. Respect. Glory. Something you always wanted yet never had the chance to obtain. Not without taking a side. So we chose sides. And the war began. I chose my side and I still don't regret it to this day. I made choices I'm not proud of, but I've never felt guilty for them. I'm just another soldier fighting in the endless bloody war.
But this story isn't about me. No, it's about another 'con. Just a simple, everyday 'con who hoped to land it big like everyone else. It could have been Payload from the chain gangs. Or it could have been Vortex from the slums. Maybe even Fearswoop from the elite. But really, it had to be him. Mainly because he never seemed like one destined for greatness. By the Pit, he wasn't great at all. Like I said, he was just a simple, everyday 'con. But there was something different about him from everyone else. At first, it was invisible. He was just pathetic. But eventually, I saw it. Something not Megatron or Prime had by war's end. Heh, he even beat Starscream in the long run in having it. By the time the final battle at Trypticon had begun, I'd say he was the only one left in the whole of our race who had it.
He believed in something.
Of course, any 'con or 'bot who looked him up and down would immediately say "Power" or "Glory". But deep down, I mean really deep down, he didn't care about that. He cared about one thing only.
Cybertron.
The only other one who probably believed in that too was Starscream. Megatron only cared about himself. Optimus only cared about the humans he tried to warn away from the path we'd taken. Indeed, by the time the Allspark was inevitably destroyed, they were the only two that cared about this blasted piece of dead metal. And in the end, even Starscream was taken by the things that had consumed Megatron, the one cybertronian he had hated above all others. Even Starscream was taken by greed and a lust for power.
But the other one? He never gave up in what he believed in. By the pit, even Ramjet sided with him! And that conniving, self-centred piece of slag wouldn't have moved a muscle for The Fallen!
This story isn't about me. I play a part of course. Everyone plays a part in every story. But this one isn't about me.
This is the story of a 'con who would look into the optic of a drone and be envious of it.
War was once cheap. War was once clean. War was where you fought for what you believed in.
You know, it wasn't always like this…
He gazed into the setting sun, the rifle held in both hands. His golden optic filtered the radiant light that came from the life giving force, the beauty of such an object, so far away and yet so close. He felt the warmth of its rays upon his armour, absorbing the life-giving energy as the stolen star began to disappear. He sighed, knowing that his circuits were at full power and he had to now do his job.
He knelt on one knee, stared through the scope of the rifle and looked out over Kaon.
The once peaceful city had been brought to its knees by the war. Autobots and Decepticons battled throughout the city, each trying to grab a factory, temple, tall building, anything to help gain an advantage over the enemy. As such, every building in the city had been damaged in some way. His sniping position was a simple hole in the wall on the 45th floor of an old, sacked hospital. The street below it was covered in rubble and debris, and countless bodies. Devastated drones, charred corpses and flaming tanks were on display for all to see. Not that anyone was watching. Not that anyone cared. Well, except for two people. The sniper and the corpse robber.
He peered through the scope at the spindly little creature. Frenzy was tearing at the body of a drone, hoping to get at a power core or weapon. His larger and much more menacing partner Barricade was nowhere to be seen, so the sniper took the opportunity to study the little creature through the scope.
Frenzy was like a mad animal at the drone, tearing his way through the armour and circuits, half-muttering, half-giggling as he did so. After all, he wasn't the one who was dead. So he could laugh all he wanted. That, and the fact that he enjoyed tearing apart corpses, just to see if their expression changed in death. As the drone didn't have much of a face, this shredding was beneficial only. A minute later, Frenzy triumphantly tore out the power core, his mandibles snapping wildly with excitement.
The sniper was tempted to shoot him, but being a Decepticon as well, realised that was quite out of order. Added the fact that Barricade scared him. Pit, Barricade scared everyone.
Well, except the top dogs. But the sniper hadn't seen much of them. Not that he wanted to.
Instead, he shot the ground beside the drone's corpse. A sharp beam of concentrated light burned a hole beside the body and Frenzy squeled with fear, tearing like heck through the corpse-filled street, taking cover in a ruined building. When he didn't reappear for a few minutes, the sniper knew he was gone.
Stupid, stupid! You shouldn't just reveal your location like that! What if there was an Autobot sniper? What if Barricade's going to come looking for you? What if—
And then he noticed a buzzing.
Well, not a buzzing. A droning. An incessant sound that was becoming louder with each passing nano-klik. The sniper readied his rifle.
And then they appeared at the end of the street. Four flyers, tearing down the old block like it was a race of sorts. Only this was a race of death.
The three behind were firing lasers and missiles, screaming past buildings in their attempt to gun down the lead plane, who was flipping, spinning, whirling, rolling, screeching past the buildings in an attempt to lose the pursuers. And although the three pursuers were obviously good flyers, there was no doubt the plane they were chasing was an ace, his movements magnificent and his speed incredible…
And then they got him.
A missile struck the lead plane's wing, sending him tumbling through his own smoke, thrashing wildly in an attempt to keep altitude. His engines burned with furious intensity, skimming over the bodies on the street as he tried with all his might not to crash. But it was all for nought. The plane crashed into the rubble and corpses, smashing a path down the street thanks to the velocity he had been going at. He finally came to rest directly below the old hospital. Due to the fact that he wasn't transforming, the sniper realised he was unconscious or dead.
The other three planes flew above the new body on the street, transforming and landing perfectly, as if they had practised many times before. The sniper bristled, for he recognised one of them. Barrelroll. One of the Autobot Aerialbots who had been leading the air campaign over Kaon since the beginning of the war, the sniper had Barrelroll's name near the top of his 'To Kill' list.
"I… I don't believe it sir!" said one of the flyers next to Barrelroll, "We got him!"
"Yes, I believe we did," Barrelroll breathed, unable to believe it himself.
The sniper aimed down the scope at the face almost directly below him. Barrelroll was in his sights.
And then the sniper made a decision that would change his life forever, for better or for worse.
He fired.
Of course, Barrelroll had to have chosen that exact moment to bend over and inspect the damage they'd caused. The shot missed his head by millimetres, splintering a dead drone into pieces. The Autobot flyers panicked, scrambling around, looking for the sniper and looking for cover.
Realising that the element of surprise was lost, the sniper realised he had to go toe-to-toe with these guys, if he didn't want them to find him first.
He leapt off the building.
The first Barrelroll knew of the sniper's location was when the sniper himself landed on top of one of his wingmen. He fell with such force and such speed, that the flyer was simply smashed to pieces underneath him, unable to even fight back. Leaping off the shattered Autobot, the sniper faced down the other two flyers, still a little shaky from his trip down the hospital.
Barrelroll and his remaining wingman looked between the sniper and the downed Decepticon. A missile launcher slid onto Barrelroll's wrist, knowing that battle was about to begin, while the accompanying flyer drew a hatchet from his leg. The sniper dropped his rifle and readied his weapons as well, his right arm becoming a blaster and his left drawing an energon machete from his back. He twirled the blade, ready to launch himself into melee if needed.
"No such thing as a free meal, huh?" Barrelroll grinned, ready to charge at any second.
"Not on the grounds of the dead, Autobot scrap," the sniper snarled in response.
But someone else solved the fight for them.
"Barrelroll, this is Silverbolt. Fall back immediately! Barricade and twelve more Decepticons are approaching from the east and will be on you in approximately four kliks. Fall back!"
The sniper had not heard the message, so Barrelroll simply smiled and paced backwards.
"Gotta go," he smiled unnervingly, "But I'll see you in the future…"
"Yeah," the sniper replied, "The same way your friend is: Without life."
Barrelroll and his compatriot took their flight quickly, as the sniper turned to look at the downed Decepticon through his large, golden optic.
He was beginning to stir, slowly moving his parts through a painful transformation in the hopes that he would be able to stand. His bronze armour reflected the dimming sun and his sharp fingers stretched and held onto corpses for support as he stood. He groaned, red eyes flaring in the limelight, spitting out gathered gastric acid. He stared at the sniper as he stood up straight.
"You alright?" the sniper asked.
The red eyes focused as if seeing the sniper for the first time.
"Oh, great," he spat, "Saved by a drone… how pathetic."
The sniper turned angry, his golden optic focusing hard on the other Decepticon, unable to recognise him.
"I am not a drone!" he said angrily, "And I just saved your life! I believe thanks are in order."
"I was going to get out of that scrape anyway…" the Decepticon stood arrogantly, "I do not need the assistance of the common foot soldier!"
"Well, apparently you do," the sniper retorted, still fuming, "State your name and rank, now!"
Red eyes swept over the sniper, gazing with either astonishment or amusement.
"Do you not recognise me?" the Decepticon stared.
"I would recognise you better, if you told me your name and rank!" the sniper almost shouted. He was at the edge of fury.
"Only if you tell me yours."
The sniper calmed a bit. He knew this arrogant fool would answer to the Lieutenant when they returned to the forward command centre.
"My name is Dreadwing, Decepticon flyer with the 2nd Aerial Assault Regiment, 1st Battalion under Lieutenant Thundercracker! Now give me your name and rank soldier!"
But before the other Decepticon could answer, the trademark booming of another Decepticon flyer could be heard. Indeed, he could be heard from over 200 hundred miles away if he so wished it, just to plant the root of fear into whoever he was hunting. One of the best warriors in Kaon, he could have taken on Barrelroll and his wingmen, killed them, burned their bodies to ash and scattered the ashes across Cybertron and not suffer a scratch in the process.
Thundercracker thundered past the buildings, transforming in mid-air before landing in the street, skidding towards Dreadwing and the other Decepticon, smashing through the corpses as he went.
He arrived before Dreadwing and his arrogant company, saluting as he did so.
"Commander! Sorry to arrive late, the Autobots held us up in Kasric block…" then Thundercracker looked at Dreadwing. "Who are you?" his voice laced with menace.
"W-Wait, who's in command?" Dreadwing asked, confused, "Who's the commander?"
"I am, simpleton," the other Decepticon stated with supreme reverence, "I am Commander Starscream of Lord Megatron's high elite, leader of the Kaon invasion force and supreme commander of the Decepticon air force. And I believe you're a part of both."
Dreadwing looked up at Starscream and almost fell over with shock at who he was addressing. Instead, he fell to one knee.
"Commander Starscream! Please excuse my impudence, I did not realise who you were! I am just a humble sniper who was protecting this street when you were shot down! I did not mean—"
"You were shot down?" Thundercracker asked, shocked, a hidden smile on his lips.
Starscream huffed and waved it away as if it were an annoying bug. "Forget about it, both of you. It was a lucky shot. Could've happened to any one of us."
"What about this one?" Thundercracker asked, looking down on Dreadwing.
Starscream looked at the kneeling figure before him. His eyes brimmed with curiosity.
"Why is it Dreadwing, that you look so much like a drone? Are the birth-tanks just choosers or did Flatline just drop you on your head when you were a hatchling?"
Thundercracker laughed as Dreadwing's eye was glazed over with fury again.
"No, commander, neither of those," Dreadwing responded, "I was once just a Class-A drone, but my power core developed a rare virus that caused it mutate into a self-aware spark. I then joined the Decepticons so I—"
"Alright, alright," Starscream sighed, "I didn't ask for your life details! Just where did those Autobots go…?" he asked, staring around him.
"I killed one of them and scared off the others, sir!" Dreadwing replied.
Starscream looked down with cold surprise. "Really?"
"Yes commander! The one I killed is over there," Dreadwing pointed at the corpse of the Autobot he had landed on, "And Barrelroll and the other one flew off, running to the hills!"
"Well," Starscream inwardly groaned, knowing he owed this weak little creature his life, "Are you a good flyer?"
"A good flyer?"
"A good flyer. Yes, that's what I said. Would you like me to repeat myself for a third time?"
"Oh no sir! But yes sir, I am a good flyer. The fastest one in my unit!"
"Then what were you doing sniping?"
Dreadwing turned his face down, looking at the ground in shame.
"Well sir… I'm grounded sir."
"Grounded?"
Thundercracker's face lit up in recognition. "Ah yes! I remember you now! You were one of the soldiers suspected of treason, grounded until such suspicion could be cleared!"
"You're a traitor?" Starscream asked coldly.
"Certainly not... commander!" Dreadwing added hurriedly, "It's just because some of the drones went haywire and as I was in control of them, I was suspected."
"Why should I trust someone like you then?" Starscream stared down with gleaming red eyes.
Dreadwing got to his feet in anger, staring Starscream in the eye. "Because I just saved your life!"
They coldly stared at each other, eyes blazing with fury.
Thundercracker's right arm became an axe. "Why you impudent-!" he snarled, readying his axe, "How dare you disrespect your commanding officer!"
"No, wait!" Starscream said, holding Thundercracker's blow with his hand, "One last thing."
He stared at Dreadwing again, looking him in his large, golden optic for a face.
"Are you a traitor?"
"Of course not! I would die for the Decepticon cause!"
"And just what is the Decepticon cause?"
"Order and control! Without it, the Autobots would rule with their false Prime!"
"Order and control of what?"
This question caught Dreadwing off-guard.
"Well… order and control of… for Cybertron!"
"For Cybertron?" Starscream reiterated, hidden amusement in his eyes, "Isn't it control of Cybertron for our Lord Megatron?"
Dreadwing shook slightly, knowing the wrong answer could kill him.
"Well… no sir!" Dreadwing shouted out, "This world isn't Megatron's! This world is for every Cybertronian under the sun who goes by the name of Decepticon!"
Thundercracker held his axe ready, awaiting the word from Starscream.
Starscream smiled like a shark. "Tell me Dreadwing… have you heard of the Seekers?"
"The Seekers? You mean the ones from legend?"
"Well done. You're not as dumb as you look," Starscream said, "And what do you know of the Seekers?"
"They were the most elite soldiers of the Decepticon cause, sent out to the stars to find a machine capable of creating energon for our planet when it could not acquire a sun of its own," Dreadwing remembered from the libraries at Simfur, "They explored the universe, forever searching for the key to life on Cybertron. They cared not for themselves or of others, only for the planet on which they lived on, were born on. They were the true sentinels of our race, the true guardians of our planet."
"Very good," Starscream responded, "But they never found the means to create energon… but then again, they didn't need to. Thanks to Decepticon scientific genius, we brought a sun of our own to us! And now the Autobots wish to rid of that, the one thing that gives the Allspark the energy it needs to help keep this planet alive! They wish to erase our sun forever, just like they hid the solar harvester all those long meta-cycles ago!"
"They do?" Dreadwing asked, shocked, "But why…? How could they be so foolish?"
"So to commemorate what our ancestors did," Starscream proclaimed, "I am forging my own group of Seekers, to protect this planet and all we hold dear to it. These will be the strongest, fastest and above all, most loyal of all the Decepticons on this planet. All we need is more members…"
If Dreadwing had taken breaths, he would have held this one in.
"By helping me overcome the odds," Starscream flattered, "I will extend an offer for you to join the Seekers."
"Really sir?" Dreadwing said, unbelieving, "You wish me to join your most elite?"
"Yes… BUT!" Starscream waved a finger in Dreadwing's face, "Because the Seekers are the most elite of all Decepticons, they work the hardest, train the hardest and above all, fight the hardest! So I must warn you now, if you accept this invitation, then you will be a Seeker for life, no matter what may happen on this planet. Whether the Decepticons lose or the planet is destroyed or even if, say, Megatron officially disbands the Seekers, you are a Seeker for life!"
Without thinking twice, Dreadwing knew the answer. "I accept your most gracious offer commander! Thank you!"
"BUT!" Starscream said again, this time his blood-red eyes inches from Dreadwing's face, "You must never betray me. Betraying me, betrays the Seekers and vice versa. That is treason. And the punishment for treason… is death. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Commander Starscream," Dreadwing saluted.
"Well then," Starscream stood up straight, "Let's return to the command centre. You need to meet the rest of the group."
And with that, the three Seekers transformed and flew into the air.
Back then, everyone was young. Everyone was foolish.
Were we slaves already? Slaves to the never-ending conflict…?
But back then, there was one consolation: We were winning. The Autobots lost battle after battle, being forced into hiding most of the time. We were trampling them underfoot, a march of progress and power so terrifying that none could stand in our way, torn to pieces by our blades and cannons.
And that is why it's so painful…
Because we were so close…
The screams of the dying filled the air. There were no wounded. You either fought, or died. Thousands of cybertronians crashed against each other, fighting for blade and axe, gun and cannon, tooth and claw. Energon splashed against the metallic surface like a flood, corpses piling under the towering structures of Simfur. The waging of war was reflected in their energon-stained armour and the fires of death were reflected in the fear of their eyes.
But in one particular part of the battlefield, those fires burned brighter than ever.
"BURRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNNN!" a Decepticon roared as jets of purple flame bathed the Autobots before him. They screamed as their mouths melted, their circuits snapped and sparks burnt.
Incinerator roared with delight as the Autobots cooked before him. He laughed at the beautiful fires before him, eyes lapping up the melted skin of his enemies with unmatched glee. He loved his work, his job within the Decepticon army. He didn't fight for the power or the glory. As long as things burned by his hands, then he was as content as he could be.
He turned on a figure to his right, recognising him before he had the chance to fire.
"Ah," Incinerator half-laughed, half-barked, "Sixshot… so nice of you to join us… so late in the battle," he baited.
Sixshot didn't reply, instead gunning down another Autobot with battle pistols in each hand. Twirling them around, he blew off the head of another one, before throwing a small knife into the throat of another, who gargled out his last breath.
"I was holding..." Sixshot said coolly, "...The right flank. Those men need air support. Where are the Seekers?"
"Beats me!" Incinerator cried with joy as another Autobot was reduced to pool of molten metal, "Who needs air support anyway?"
"They do," Sixshot responded, shooting down the Autobots as they advanced, "They're close to breaking. Stockade is not a soldier or a leader."
"Who cares?" Incinerator laughed.
Then his right arm was torn off by a sniper's bullet. He screamed with pain as he fell behind a small barricade of rubble, Sixshot doing the same.
"Did you see the sniper?" Sixshot asked without much pity.
"No, I did not slagging see him!" Incinerator roared, "He shot me! ME!"
"Yes he did. What a shock."
Suddenly another shot rang throughout the battlefield, this one from a different rifle. Another Decepticon, bearing such a rifle, appeared out of the smoke.
"Don't worry, I got him," he said.
"Who are you?" Sixshot asked.
"Vortex," the Decepticon answered, "And I blew off his head. So you can stop hiding now."
As Incinerator reached out and tried to reattach his arm, Sixshot went over to Vortex.
"Can you get a message through to command?" he asked.
"About the right flank? Tried already, they're not listening."
"At this rate, the Autobots will shatter the right and encircle us. We'll need Onslaught's reserves before long."
"How can they be doing this?" Vortex fumed, "This is supposed to be the last Autobot stronghold. When Simfur falls, we rule Cybertron!"
Sixshot looked out to the city. "No… I believe the Autobots are planning something…"
"Like what?" Vortex questioned.
"Doesn't matter. I'm probably wrong. We need to push through the centre anyway. If we do that, it'll relieve some of the pressure off the right. Then we can move onto the factory district and attack the old temple at Simfur."
"Where the Allspark was kept?" Vortex asked, hate seeping into his voice.
"Yes, where the Autobots removed it. So sending our sun back to the stars."
"Those pieces of damned slag!" Vortex roared, kicking an Autobot head across the ground.
Meanwhile, Incinerator had finished fixing his arm back and was impatiently waiting for them.
"So are we burning the centre then, or what?" he snarled.
Sixshot looked across the battlefield debris at the Autobots, who were fast trying to create a defensive line. He was about to order an attack, when a droning suddenly filled the air.
"What's that?" Incinerator jabbered.
And then the whole Autobot line exploded into flame, bodies screaming as they were scattered across the battlefield. Thirteen flyers screamed through the eternal night above them.
"YEEHAW!" Incinerator roared with delight as the columns of fire lit up the night.
Sixshot looked upwards as Vortex smiled.
"They have arrived."
Barrelroll and his squadron shot past the skyscrapers of Simfur, trying as hard as they could to avoid the six Seekers that chased them through the night. They ducked low, flying through the fires of the battle raging below. Every once in a while, the Seekers would eradicate an Autobot line with their missiles and lasers, the flames whipping Barrelroll and his squadron with burning intensity.
He heard one of his squad members go down.
"!" the squad member screamed as he smashed into a skyscraper, reduced to pieces of twisted metal, the echo of his death reverberating throughout the darkened city.
"Keep it tight troops!" Barrelroll roared into his comm.
"Help! Help sir! HE'S ON TOP OF ME!"
Barrelroll turned his optics to see one of the Seekers had transformed and landed on top of another of his squad. With sickening joy, the Seeker slammed an axe into the flyer's nose-cone, before leaping back into the air and tearing the Autobot in half before transforming and continuing the chase.
Now only five left, Barrelroll knew they stood no chance against the elite Decepticon air wing. Their only hope was to lose them in the burning city.
But as another of his squad screamed into the ground below them, Barrelroll felt that hope begin to fade.
"I got 'im, I got 'im!" Voltage almost squeled with delight.
"Well done," Ramjet drawled with sarcasm, "But it was nothing compared to what I did to that one just now. When was the last time you tore a 'bot in half with an axe? In mid-air?"
"Stop whining and stay on target!" Divebomb tried to snarl, but coming out as a whine.
They tore down the streets, Barrelroll and his four remaining wingmen trying to out-manoeuvre them as the battle around them raged on and in the buildings.
"Shut up Divebomb!" Stormslayer cried, "Or I'll knock you out of the sky myself!"
"As much as Divebomb annoys me, he's right," Dreadwing said, "Keep on target and destroy Barrelroll: That slippery piece of scrap won't get away this time!"
"Well, I don't know about you guys," Ramjet grinned, "But he's mine."
Dreadwing frowned. "Starscream told me to be in command for this operation, so I'll be the one to finish him—"
"Not on my watch!" whooped Skywarp, who fired up his afterburners to their maximum efficiency.
In response, the five other Seekers followed suit.
Barrelroll was panicking. And as soon as he felt himself panic, he knew the end was near.
He felt a great sadness come over him.
What was it all for? One more flight through the sky just before I die? One last run through the ruins of our race…
Another one of his soldiers exploded.
"Everyone, split up!" he roared into his comm, "Skyblast, head west! Nightslayer, head east! Wingblade, double-back the way we came: Confuse the boltheads!"
"Roger sir!" they all cried, and went off in their separate directions.
If this is the end, I'll take as many as I can with me.
Suffice to say, the six Seekers didn't expect one of their targets to come roaring back towards them.
"Whoa!" Voltage cried out as Wingblade screeched past them.
"Ramjet, Skywarp: Go after the one that just went past us!" Dreadwing shouted, "Stormslayer, take the one heading west! Divebomb, take the one heading east! Voltage, we're taking Barrelroll!"
Like their Autobot opposites before, the Seekers split up.
I've hunted you for many meta-cycles Barrelroll, Dreadwing thought, Tonight, at last, it will end.
After a few more miles, Barrelroll stopped running.
He transformed in mid-air, landing on top of a large rooftop, skidding to a halt.
Knowing his intention, Dreadwing and Voltage did the same.
Barrelroll had not yet turned to face his two hunters, forcing them to stare at his charred back.
"Well then?" Dreadwing shouted at him, "Do you face your death like an honourable warrior, or do you look away like a pathetic coward?"
Voltage readied his blades, which crackled with electricity that ran through them.
Barrelroll slowly turned to face them. His black armour reflected the fires of the burning buildings around him as a boom echoed in the distance and continued to sound, getting closer with every second.
"We don't have long," Voltage whispered.
"I know," Dreadwing responded, "I'm not deaf."
Barrelroll stared at them both. After a few seconds, he turned to face the sky.
"It ends tonight," he said whimsically, "It all ends tonight…"
"We know that," Dreadwing snarled as he and Voltage began to circle him, "So speak your last rites."
"My last rites?" Barrelroll smiled, "Fine then… but not before you speak yours!"
He leapt at Dreadwing, smashing into him and knocking him to the ground before landing hammer blow after hammer blow onto his face.
The distant booming was getting louder.
"You've hunted me across the ages, haven't you?" Barrelroll grinned as a crack glanced across Dreadwing's optic, "You little twerp Dreadwing… that was your last mistake!"
But then Barrelroll screamed, currents of electricity running through him like a thousand daggers. He spun around, knocking Voltage to the ground, before taking out the electric blade in his back, screaming as he did it. He roared and leapt into the air, the blade in his hands, bringing it down on a screaming Voltage, who put his arms in front of him, which failed to deflect the roaring death.
As Dreadwing got to his knees, Voltage no longer screamed, his own blade through his head.
And then Barrelroll's back exploded.
He screamed again, his vocal processor barely working, and fell to his knees. He turned his head to see Dreadwing standing, smoke in the air from his arm, a missile recently launched.
The booming was no longer distant. It was all around them.
"Ha…" Barrelroll whispered, "Looks like you got me…"
Dreadwing unsteadily walked to him, the crack in his optic impairing his vision. He was lucky enough to have hit the Autobot, let alone land a crippling blow.
"So then…" Barrelroll spat, "Finish it."
"I'm not going to be the one who ends you Barrelroll. That is reserved for the one who has now arrived."
Barrelroll smiled as the booming stopped.
Thundercracker landed behind Barrelroll with a resounding crash. The Autobot didn't move.
Thundercracker's right arm transformed into a pick-like axe, stained a lighter shade of blue than his body thanks to the raw sparks it had already tasted that night. He dug it into the front of Barrelroll's chest while bending his head to whisper in the Autobot's audio receptors.
"Any last words…?" the Seeker of fear spoke, "So that I may hear your voice tremble with horror…"
Barrelroll roared with laughter, energon spilling from his mouth. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Look to the sky you fools! See it disappear into the void! Watch as our planet's life fades into darkness!"
So they turned to where he was looking. And saw it scream towards space.
The Allspark. On the journey of an eternity.
"What have you done?" Dreadwing whispered, "Was sending our sun back to the stars not enough?"
"It will never be enough until there isn't a single power-hungry Decepticon left," Barrelroll muttered, smiling.
"But Cybertron is doomed!" Dreadwing roared and grabbed Barrelroll's throat, "Our planet will die! Is that your plan!"
"YES!" Barrelroll gurgled and Dreadwing released him in shock.
Thundercracker drew his axe upwards, carving through Barrelroll's chest and ripping off his head with his spine still attached.
"What now?" Dreadwing asked.
"Now," Thundercracker frowned as he saw something fly into the air after the Allspark, "We contact Commander Starscream."
On another part of the battlefield, the fires of war were still raging.
As Blackout tore apart another Autobot with his shockwave cannons, Barricade and Frenzy looted a corpse while Bonecrusher smashed apart another ten Autobot drones.
But one of the Decepticons was doing nothing like that. Instead his gaze was turned towards the sky.
"Lord Megatron, where are you going?" Starscream called out, as the ruler of the Decepticons chased after the disappearing Allspark.
"Prime intends to keep the Allspark from me," Megatron replied, fury in his voice, "From us… But simply sending it into space will not be enough."
What is this fool doing? Starscream fumed. "But what about the Autobots? Even though we outnumber them, they still pose a threat! This distraction could be intended to delay us. Prime's forces have been off our sensors for some time now."
"Starscream, you idiot…" Megatron tried to sigh, but coming out as a small roar, "Without the Allspark, Prime is finished—Defeated! Soon I shall have the cube and you shall have him and his followers. None are to survive. When I return with the Allspark, Cybertron will be mine—Ours."
He left his aerial commander with one final message.
"Do not fail me, Starscream."
Starscream almost screamed with rage at his Lord's idiocy. The Allspark comes second to destroying the Autobots! They are the ones who threaten Cybertron the most!
But he didn't say those things. So he just stared as Megatron followed the Allspark out of the atmosphere.
"Thundercracker, do you copy?" he called into his comm.
"Yes Commander! Did you see—?"
"Of course I did, you simpleton!" he called exasperatingly, "Rally on my position. Who's with you?"
"One of your soldier's sir, Dreadwing," came Thundercracker's reply.
"Dreadwing… ah yes, I remember him now. Dreadwing?"
"Yes Commander Starscream?" came the eager voice.
"Our esteemed Lord Megatron just flew after the Allspark! Go after him and monitor his progress!"
Dreadwing gulped. "Y-You want me to spy on the leader of the Decepticons?"
"No you little fool; I just want you to follow him! Quickly, before he goes beyond our grasp!"
As Dreadwing shot into the air after their leader, Thundercracker made his way towards his Commander.
Meanwhile, Starscream began to pace towards a familiar building, one that was famous on the planet they lived upon.
"Where are you going Starscream?" Barricade asked, watching his commander out of cunning red eyes.
Starscream looked back at him. "Just a walk, Barricade… just a little walk…"
Of course Prime would choose to fight here in Simfur, he thought, as he paced across debris and bodies, the battle still being fought nearby, Where the Allspark was first discovered long ago. When our planet flourished.
He heard Bonecrusher roar as an Autobot screamed.
Cybertronian records would reflect this… had we not wiped it from the data banks entirely.
He walked into the temple.
It was a pitiful sight. Rubble was piled around the stand where it had once been placed, a shadow of the beautiful building it had once been. The ceiling stretched towards the heavens, darkened by the lack of sun that had been missing for so long. Empty, with the exception of the odd metallic insect that buzzed through the air, looking for raw energon to feed on. Not that it would find any. It was a sad, pitiful sight.
It rested in the middle of this war zone, until Prime's forces stole the Allspark from under our sensors. Removed from this temple, Cybertron slowly began to perish.
He frowned as he recalled Prime at this very temple, all those years ago. And he remembered the glee he'd felt when he had destroyed Sentinel Prime and his Ark. But on reflection, maybe it had been the beginning of the end…
Foolish Prime, you are no different than Megatron, fighting for your own selfish reasons. Why rule this barren land, devoid of assets and vitality? Why fight for this temple again, knowing that the Allspark had long since…
A huge rumble filled the air. The building shook and Starscream ran out to find the disturbance.
A huge Autobot ship filled the sky, flying over the skyscrapers of Simfur. It was heading towards Tyger Pax, where the Allspark had been launched from.
…vanished.
"Decepticons… ready the attack craft—we're going after them!"
As he struck through the sky like a missile, the heat whipped his skin. As he passed the stratosphere, metal melted off like snakeskin.
Dreadwing flew through the atmosphere, leaving battle far behind him.
By the time he reached the edge of the exosphere, he had caught up with Megatron and the Allspark. He was nervous, this being the closest he had ever been to the grand Decepticon leader, the most feared person on the planet below them.
Likewise, this was the closest he had ever been to the Allspark.
Even though he was still a mile behind it, its raw energy flowed through him, a vitality he had not felt since the sun had watched over them all with its life-giving rays and beautiful light…
So close… the object of every cybertronian's desire. An object that gives life unlike any other, a glowing star in the eternal blackness, the light at the end of the universe. We have fought for it, we have struggled for it, we have killed for it and now…
He saw with sinking hopes that Megatron was failing to catch up with the Allspark.
...It's disappearing from our grasp.
But why? By Primus, why is it going? This object that sustains our life and our planet… why now, when it is needed most, must it be doomed on a voyage into the forest of stars? Does it matter if we were selfish? Let us pay for our foolishness in other ways! But why doom us all…?
He stared out of his optic, recently repaired on his trip into space, and watched the great life and the great evil as they flew into space. He knew what he had to do.
"Starscream…" Dreadwing called into his comm, "I've spotted Megatron."
"Excellent, Dreadwing," Starscream responded, "What's his trajectory?"
Dreadwing tried to concentrate, but the radiation from the cube overpowered him like a miasma of power.
"I'm—I'm not sure. The cube's giving off some crazy energy signatures… but it looks like he's heading toward the Eshems Nebula."
"Follow him!" Starscream commanded, "We'll be there shortly."
"Affirmative," Dreadwing replied, "He's too far away, so I'll have to warp ahead. Unlike your other soldiers, I won't fail you, Starscr—"
Then, all of a sudden, a great shadow was cast over him.
"—Wha?" he cried out, as he looked behind him.
Looming over him like a vast, predatory bird was a huge Autobot ship, a couple of miles long at least. It passed over him as if he we're the smallest tadpole in the ocean of emptiness.
"Starscream!" he cried into his comm, "An Autobot ship! They're here!"
And then, like an asteroid field of humongous ball-bearings, the Autobot ship dropped a field of incredibly dark mines, almost impossible to spot in the jet black of the void.
Mines? But who's following them…?
"We're following, Dreadwing," came Starscream's voice over the comm.
Dreadwing turned to see a Nemesis-type attack craft, one of the elite star-ships of the Decepticon cause, coming towards them at full speed.
Coming straight towards the mine-field.
The mine-field that Dreadwing was in the middle of.
"NOOOO—!" he cried out, all too late.
It took only one touch of a single mine on the attack craft's hull to cause the whole thing to go up in flames.
The inferno tore the blackness up. Explosions and pillars of flame tore the Nemesis apart, pieces of the ship being torn off, blown up and set alight. Dreadwing, caught in the middle, took the full force of it.
The Autobot ship continued after Megatron.
Megatron continued after the Allspark.
And as Dreadwing's vision began to fade, he saw the Allspark glowing in the distance.
It would be the last time he ever would.
"Blackout—Damage report!" Starscream roared on the bridge of the Nemesis.
The hulking intelligence officer responded as the reports came flooding onto the command screen.
"There is massive damage to our nav-system and the hull," Blackout replied, "We're still flight-worthy but limping. Looks like it was a concussion chain—equipped with a blanket cloak—designed to slow us down."
"Spare me your inane commentary," Starscream spat as smoke billowed into the room, "Of course it was designed for that—the Autobots are after the Allspark and don't want us to follow."
He frowned as he inspected the damage himself.
"Now, if you will, have Scorponok retrieve Dreadwing," Starscream continued, "If he's survived the blasts, he may still be of some use to us."
A few kliks later, in the vastness of space, Scorponok had Dreadwing (and his arm, which had been torn off during the explosion) in his grasp. As much as the little scavenger would like to have eaten the heavily damaged Seeker, he didn't know what Starscream would do. And Starscream could be very mean.
He called it in to Blackout, who called it in to Starscream.
"Scorponok has him, Starscream," Blackout told his commander, "Spark strength is weak… survival, improbable."
Starscream thought about dismissing the waste of space that Scorponok had in his grasp and quickly returning to the docks at Trypticon for repairs… but something stayed that order. He remembered a long time ago, a nervous but eager sniper who wanted nothing more than to hold up the ideals of Cybertron. Ideals that Starscream held very close to heart. Add the fact that the little rookie had saved his life.
"Very well," he sighed, "Bring him aboard and prepare for our descent. Alert our ground forces that our ship will require maintenance—drones or slaves will do."
The Nemesis turned about and returned to Cybertron—Humbled and broken.
While the Allspark and Megatron flew further away.
Never to return again.
Was it a curse that he was broken on that night? Would he have died on Starscream's voyage after the Allspark? Indeed, Starscream was the only one to return from that doomed journey, but that would happen much later.
But Starscream's voyage and the hunt for the Allspark will not be chronicled here. That has been recorded many times before… but what happened on Cybertron?
Ah… these were the darkest times for our beloved planet, so a record must exist of the heroes and villains of it.
But then again, there weren't many heroes at all. Indeed, anyone who could be considered a hero wound up dead. In the end, there were only villains and monsters.
So this was the new age on Cybertron, the new order.
A new age... where war would no longer be cheap...
The Age of Monsters.