Disclaimer: Hasbro own Transformers, not some wannabe writer such as me.
I decided to add Soundwave and Blackarachnia to the story, and removed Starscream and Blackout because Prowl's kind of took Starscream's place as captain of the search team, and Soundwave stole Blackout's and I just wanted a kickass femme in the story.
Y2K
Prologue
On a red, barren world, a star-ship of alien origin and purpose circled the red planet. The star-ship had a triangular, twisted frame to it, and its size was little less than a small moon. It had a cone-shaped front, and a twilight violet shine to its space-black metallic surface. The star-ship's wings spread outwards, sharp in its long length and width, like blade great and dangerous. For hours it orbited the world. Inside the ship was a small crew, that watched the planet, both studying and observing it. So far they had come, stellar-cycles away from their home world of Cybertron, a planet different and yet the same as this one. Smaller in size was Cybertron, their home was a world made not of dust, rock, and frozen earth, but like this planet, their home was, or would be soon, a dead ONE.
Yet not if the star-ship's crew could help it.
Their home world they had departed, leaping to the stars for the one chance their planet had. Out in space, that never-ending frontier; amongst the stars, Cybertron's sole spark of hope.
Spark.
After circling the planet for deca-cycles, the ship drew closer to the red world, preparing to land. Diving head-first into its gravitation pull, gravity yanking at the star-ship, it descended rapidly. The star-ship was landing at a speed and force too great, the vessel rocked violently as it fell. It crashed onto the planet, more than landed. The surface shook with the force of an earthquake. And the crew inside…
Once the ground stopped shaking, and the land calmed, a deafening silence took hold of the world. Then, at the aft of the star-ship, a section of wall split in half as the doors opened. A set of retractable set of stairs unfolded to the ground, bridging the star-ship to the planet further. The captain of the crew stepped outside the star-ship, hit by the harsh and hot airstream of the planet's winds. The captain slowly stepped down the staircase, and onto the soil of the strange and alien world.
The world was a no-one's planet. A landscape of red desert, dirt and dust the color of rust, stretching as far as optics could see. Once in awhile a range of mountains would jet up from the earth, rising like twisted monuments of crimson and stark-white icy peaks. The newcomer surveyed the land with caution, the planet's territory making the captain feel as if an invader. Sandy, red hills, rising and falling in shape, littered the planet's surface. Travel might difficult for their four-wheeled vehicles. The crew was used to tough terrain, but nothing like this. They were meant to be soldiers, warriors of Cybertron, not explorers and scientists.
But we must be, thought Prowl. Or at least take the mantle, to survive. The captain looked upwards to the heavens. Yellow clouds in cumulus formation blanketed the sky. The clouds were pierced solely by the light of the system's golden star. But to its planet it was more than a mere star, as Shockwave, the one scientist's whose opinion was worth slag, explained. The star was a sun, a source of life to the planets and solar system.
This solar system has its life-giver, but what of ours? Cybertron has no sun, no spark to keep it warm. The thought chilled the captain. Our world lays floating in the abyss of space, its own little sun and spark torn from its core.
Prowl shuddered. The captain and the star-ship's crew did not survive on the solar energies. It was spark that gave them life. Prowl was a being comprised of machinery. Autonomous robotic organisms, as some might put it. Prowl's bodily design was anthropomorphic, and that of a mech, whose large frames were adorned with heavy platted armor, and were seen as the masculine and male of the species. A Cybertronian, a mech, and…
A Decepticon, he thought. Like any species, the Cybertronians had various groups, and as a sentient species, some fractions were political, ethical, territorial. The fraction Prowl belonged to was that of the Decepticon forces, seen as brutal and built for warfare by the other Cybertronian parties. Not far from the truth, the Decepticons had built themselves for war, equipping their kind heavily with weaponry, fire-power, and armor. Seen as a barbaric existence to other fractions of their race, the opinion mattered little to the Decepticons, for it was a time of war!
"Prowl to Soundwave." Through his communication link, called a com link, he sent a message to one of his crew. On Cybertron Soundwave had been head of Decepticon communication and intelligence. Since the departure from their home world, Soundwave served as intelligence officer and chief technician aboard the star-ship Nemesis. And as one of the lieutenants, he had a host of symbiotic microdots under his command.
"Soundwave, reporting."
"Has the crew been gathered?"
"Affirmative, Blackarachnia, lieutenant, combatant expert, present. Barricade, cadet, scout, present. Bonecrusher, officer, head of navigation, present. Wreckage, field officer, present. Brawl, field officer, present. Symbiotes, Ravage, Rumble, and Laserbeak, under my command, Frenzy, under Barricade. All present and accounted for."
"Al right," said Prowl. "Send out Barricade. Soundwave, you take to the airs. Barricade and I will scout the nearby area; your stealth jet should provide a detailed scope of the planet. Place Blackarachnia in charge of the ship until our return. We need to have this territory mapped quickly."
"Understood," said Soundwave, his voice a low monotone. Many wondered why the intelligence officer speech was so cold and indistinctive. Though robotic beings; rarely were Cybertronians' voices so computerized. Known for their individualism, speaking in rhythms formal and informal, and even strange dialects adopted from languages and cultures alien in nature. But Soundwave had always been stoic, the most machine-like of them all: a "cold machine," which his comrade hated being seen as. Rumors said it was a ruse, that there was more to Soundwave than meets the eye. Some horrible secret, his emotionless persona was a way to throw others off the truth. The rumors of the secret ran rampant and wild.
And some rumors hit a little too close to the spark chamber.
The ground shook, and a thrump sounded behind him. Prowl glanced to see Barricade, the youngster of the team. Standing a head shorter than Prowl, he possessed a bulky frame. In the gaps of platting Prowl caught glimpses of silvery joints and servos. Barricade's framed lacked the heavy armor the captain wore, as seen in the gaps of platting, revealing silvery servos and joints. His faceplates were harsh features, and his visual-sensor optics flashed cerulean with anxiety. "Finally, off that tin can," he hissed.
Prowl gave a ghost of a grin. "I'm sure Bonecrusher wouldn't take kindly to the slight on his ship."
"Grip, grip, grip, all he does," complained Barricade. "What's he so pissed off about, anyways? The frag-head just pilots the thing; it was Clocker who designed it." Barricade cracked his joints. "Let's get rolling." And then, Barricade's joints servos and cogs started to twist and turn around. A buzzing filled the area, the sound of spinning and scrapping metal. Barricade's legs and arms started to re-angle themselves. His torso spun round like a toy top. The plats over his frame slid back and together as Barricade's form changed to something more boxed and squared. Once the transformation was done, a four-wheeled vehicle rested in the cadet's old spot. Barricade's vehicle possessed a boxy-like shape, but still sleek and streamlined in design, and space-black and handsome in appearance. The cadet spun his wheels, and drove off.
Prowl kept an optic on the cadet. The captain had half-expected Barricade to sky off, but rather ran a lap around the star-ship. Deciding to join the cadet, he himself transformed. His structure shifted downwards with a plummet as he withdrew his legs, as he too changed into a four-wheeled vehicle. His heavy armor slid along his frame, transforming him into a bulkier vehicle than Barricade's. His alternate mode was modeled for rough-terrain coverage. His engines roared to life, and sped away from the star-ship.
Prowl found Barricade speeding up ahead. It had to feel good for the scout to spin his wheels again. Though the star-ship was massive, there was few places to just stop, transform, and go. For a mech young like Barricade, racing and feeling the Energon pumping through your systems was as good as it got.
Something zoomed over their heads. The pair's visual sensors just caught a glimpse of a speeding, black streak. "Slag, he's fast!" snapped Barricade through their com links.
"Has to be," said Prowl, "we need to get this area mapped. If our information is correct, the next planet should have the Allspark on it. We may need this territory for recon."
"That crazy slag-spout again? Don't tell me you believe Starscream!"
"Have a problem with Starscream, do you?"
"Starscream? That fraghead-"
"Language, Barricade." Prowl rarely tolerated swearing and foul speeach, especially from Barricade. As a youth, he was hot-wired, possessed an aggressive streak, and a foul voice box. Such habits bred inconsistent thoughts, informal speech and slang, which were not signs of a strong mind. As he matured, Barricade needed Prowl for guidance. The mech was there to make sure the cadet did it right.
"He's two-faced!" Barricade shrieked over the com links. The static made Prowl's CPU glitch in irritation. "The Seekers are our best advantage! Starscream's their leader, and they're supposed to be giving us ground. Last time I checked, our enemies still held the Simfur Temple. He leads the Seekers on missions, and has nothing to show for it. How many have we lost? Thruster and Dirge among the Coneheads and no one's heard from the Rainmakers for stellar-cycles! The Autobots are going to win at this rate!"
Prowl understood the cadet's frustration. Vorn after vorn, the scale of the war kept tipping out of Decepticon favor. Their fraction was losing the war. The entire planet of Cybertron was falling under the control of their enemies' empire. The Decepticons were being reduced to nothing but a rebel threat. Still, Prowl wouldn't tolerate was disrespect to superior officers. Disrespect and dislike led to contempt, and animosity throughout the ranks.
"The Decepticon forces would have been wiped out stellar-cycles ago if not for Starscream. He is the strongest warrior we have. The Seekers have given us the advantage; their success outnumbers the combined efforts of Blackarachnia's and my forces. Without Lord Megatron, Starscream has acted as our commander and kept our forces strong."
"Careful, Cop Con, you're starting to sound like a suck-up Seeker."
Prowl did not reply to Barricade's slight. His cockiness irked many a comrade. Particularly annoyed was Blackarachnia, the biting femme of their crew.
"If Starscream is so great, why's he not leading the search for Megatron?"
Memories surfaced in his CPU. He remembered the conversation with Shockwave before the crew's departure from Cybertron. "… Without Lord Megatron, Cybertron is doomed."
It had felt like eons ago when they had gathered together, the leaders of the Decepticon fraction. They had met in the ruins that haunted the edges of capital city, Tyger Pax. Around them towered the tall, skeletal frames of what once had been the Cathedral of the Ancients. Silvery structures, charred in black. Crystalline platting of the broken walls gleamed dully in the faint starlight. But beyond Cathedral, Prowl stared into the east, to the heart of Tyger Pax. It shone as a gold beacon, as brilliant as a star.
"Reminds me of a sun," commented a mech.
Prowl turned his head, to see the hulking form of Shockwave. As a triple-changer, Shockwave's form possessed more twisted features than that of Cybertron's majority population. Most Cybertronians had a robot form and a single alt mode. His chest and torso were platted with twilight-purple armor, but his limbs and lower body were merely skeletal. Shock explained long ago, that platting his limbs left it difficult for transformations between both alternate modes. The lacking armor in battle left him vulnerable. But Shockwave said it was ideal, as he was a scientist, not a soldier. And instead of faceplates, a single, yellow optic rested in the center of his head.
"A sun?" questioned Prowl.
"Yes," said Shockwave. Lifting a limb, he pointed to the stars. "Many stars are part of orbital planetary systems. The stars are the center of these systems, and are known as a sun. Which--"
"All matter orbits around the sun, including other planets, asteroids, meteoroids, comets, and dust. The surface of the sun consists of hydrogen, and trace quantities of other elements, including iron, nickel, oxygen, silicon, sulfur, magnesium, carbon, neon, calcium, and chromium. Energy from the sun, in a form of sunlight and heat, supports organic life through a process called photosynthesis, and drives a planet's climate and weather patterns."
Prowl and Shockwave turned to see a femme approach the. The femmes were the feminine and seen as the females of Cybertron's children. Their forms were more lithe and streamlined, but some Decepticon femmes wore as much armor as their mech counterparts. This femme's frame was lithe, her armor plating light on her torso and chassis. A strange, curved shell rested at the back of her aft. The femme wore a black war helmet, masking her faceplates.
"Discussing stars and suns?" spoke Blackarachnia, red optics flashing. "I thought we came to decide the next course of action, not trivial matters like space derby."
"Suns, stars, are as trivial as sparks," spoke Shockwave calmly. "You will learn soon enough." With that, Shockwave left the pair.
"Fraghead," snapped Blackarachnia. A tough femme to handle, Blackarachnia was one of the Decepticon forces' top field agents. Specializing in sabotage and guerilla tactics, she was irreplaceable asset to the Special Ops. She took on the toughest missions herself. Also a combat specialist, like Prowl she specialized in Metallikato. They had sparred together once or twice. She was known for her sharp wit, and biting attitude.
Overhead, Prowl's audio sensors heard the roar of jets overhead. He craned his head upwards, as much as his joints allowed. A triad of flyers, their forms sleek and speeding, soared over Cybertron. They circled over the Cathedral, and stayed within a spiraling course. They watched and waiting, the Seekers.
"If Starscream doesn't get his aft down here, the Nightwatch is going to notice him," muttered Blackarachnia.
"Soundwave!" called Shockwave.
A mech of enormous height came into view. Though quiet tall (Prowl only came up to his chassis) his frame had an emphasis of a flyer for speed and agility. His armor was pitch-black. The mech's shoulders were layered with heavy equipment. The wings of his alternate mode hung down his back. The mech's faceplates were hidden by a battle mask. His optics gleamed in a silvery bluish light in the dark.
"Soundwave, reporting," spoke the mech.
"Alert Starscream, location 'Old Grave.'"
"Understood," drawled Soundwave. He brought a four-fingered, metallic hand to his shoulder. Soundwave pressed a series of buttons, then, the equipment hummed to life. It quivered, and then suddenly, sprang off Soundwave'shoulders. The equipment's structure twisted once it hit the floor. Blue optics gleaming in a feral light, it gave a hiss at the Decepticons. Its form was small and slender, standing on all four of its limbs. It lifted its head, circled around itself, and then turned to its master, Soundwave.
"Ravage, still," ordered Soundwave. The symbiont hissed but backed down. Then, a low rumble emanated from Soundwave. Like a ripple it spread out around them. Prowl felt the vibrations beneath him. The ruins of the cathedral shook. The rumble became a gargle, a strange noise that filled his audio receptors with static.
"Ugh!" screeched Blackarachnia over the noise. Prowl himself found his jaw clenched tight. He turned his optics skywards, to see the Seekers fly off. Once out of sight the communication's officer muted his sound systems.
They heard it, realized Prowl. But where had the Seekers gone? They should have descended to the ground, not flown away. Had they gone off to fetch others? Would they be back? It didn't add up, they would have to wait and see. But waiting like sitting petro-rabbits didn't strike him as wise.
The small council did not speak. A silence engulfed then, deafening to the spark. No one dared to break it. All stood still, waiting anxiously like Prowl. He glanced to Blackarachnia next to him, then Soundwave on the other side of the crowd. Some might say they were the comrades he trusted most, but truth was he simply knew them the best. And it was they who trusted him.
The silence was broken at last, by fire of guns and cannons. Prowl's own weaponry roared to life with a second thought flickering through his CPU. He rushed ahead of Blackarachnia, past Soundwave, and left the other fraction leaders behind. His optics scanned the area. To the west, he spotted a Decepticon watcher taking aim at three oncoming mechs.
Barricade! his processor registered. The young scout couldn't handle three intruders alone. Prowl hurried to the scene, transforming as he went. In his four-wheeled vehicle mode he rushed up to meet the intruders. He nearly collided with one mech, causing him to fall in fright. Prowl's engines roared in warning. "Don't shoot!" he wailed. "Don't shoot!"
Prowl back off, recognizing the mech. Slowly his gears, platting, and servos began to shift as he transformed into robot mode once again.
"Yes, don't shoot him!" Another of the three intruders appeared. Towering over the fallen mech. "We kind of need him, I think."
"Frag you, Thundercracker," said the fallen mech. It was more of a whimper than a curse. He shook as he tried to push himself off the ground. Taking pity, Prowl grabbed his arm and yanked him up. "Thanks," he muttered.
"Don't mention it," said Prowl gruffly.
"Skywarp!"
Prowl's optics glanced up, to see Air Commander Starscream approach. The intruders had been the Seekers, the famed flyers of the Decepticon fraction. Like Soundwave, his frame was enormous. From his torso to chassis was triangular in shape. The armor-platting of his body spoke of a starfighter alt mode, built for speed and power. His platting gleamed graish-white, and red armor ran along the ridges of his frame. Along his back ran his wings. In battle, Prowl had seen Starscream rip his wings from his sides and wield as twin blades. But Starscream's favored weapon was his missile launcher, accessible in robot and vehicle mode. His optics shone in a foreboding, indigo light.
"Fall back, Seeker." Both Thundercracker and Skywarp fell back as Starscream approached. "Sub-commander Prowl," spoke Starscream. The words sounded less like a greeting, and more of an statement.
"Air Commander," acknowledged Prowl.
Starscream's faceplates twisted in a wicked grin. "Think you can call your cadet off my mechs?" His optics looked past Prow to Barricade.
His CPU buzzing in confusion, Prowl turned around to see Barricade still with his gun pose at the Seekers. "Barricade, lower your weapon!"
The cadet hesitated. "Cop con, there's something screw-lose with these Seekers here."
Prowl understood the cadet's paranoia. The Seekers were flyers, yet they had appeared in front of their fellow Decepticons on the ground. "Care to enlighten us about the nightly walk, Air Commander?"
"With your famed logic circuits, Prowl, I would have thought you guessed." Starscream brushed past him, and headed for the ruins of the cathedral. "If we had descended directly just then, the Nightwatch from Tyger Pax would have spotted us. I felt that would have been too convenient for our enemies. For the Autobots could potentially terminate the commanding officers of the Decepticon army, since Shockwave had the logical thought of gathering us all together."
Prowl signaled to Barricade to stand down. There was a faint buzzing as his weapon systems off-lined. He transformed into his vehicle, positioning himself back to watch guard. The mech moved his optics off the cadet. He scanned the area for himself, once satisfied of safety, he led the Seekers to the cathedral on foot. He glanced quickly at Starscream, to see the Seeker's optics focused on the starry heavens. Was the mech watching the skies for danger, or simply stargazing? With Starscream a bot couldn't tell. Among the commanders, Starscream was the youngest. Elected Air Commander, just a few mere stellar-cycles after his youngling youth, Starscream was a brilliant aerial fighter, and fearless leader. But he was also known for his passions, his anger. Once, Starscream had aspired to be a scientist. But with the loss of the Allspark, Starscream had been forced to surrender his ambitions. Forced into an existence he despised a life of warfare. Prowl knew the stargazers like the young Air Commander, suffered the worst; disillusioned, cynical, and all so angry at the universe.
They reached the ruins, to find Blackarachnia waiting for them. Long, curved black blades ran down the length of her arm. Her famed poisonous "stingers," reputed to inject a mech full of viral acids and cyber-venom, were posed. As she saw them approach, her blue optics narrowed at the sight of the Seekers. The blades slid along the length of her arm as she "sheathed" them. "Inside, Shockwave is ready to start."
Prowl walked into the ruins, to the other commanders gathered in a circle. An opening in the circle was next to Soundwave. Prowl made his way in silently, taking his place in the circle of Decepticons. No one noticed his arrival. He stood perfectly still, as the Seekers and Blackarachnia entered. The Seekers, moved through as a troublesome threesome. Most ignored them. As Blackarachnia walked by, Prowl noticed the frames of many mechs tense. He did not understand their fears. Blackarachnia was a rare exception among the Deception ranks. Her alternate mode was modeled after an organic creature. She did not transform into an armored vehicle like Prowl's, nor a speed cruiser like Barricade's, a stealth flyer like Soundwave, nor a starfighter like the Seekers. She called her alternate mode an "arachnid:" an eight-limbed creature, supporting its slender body on its many legs. Though many saw it as a useless alternate mode for combat, it had a skill for stealth. Blackarachnia crept through the dark well. For any unsuspecting bot, by the time they noticed her it was too late. An accomplished and capable officer, but disregarded for his race's prejudice of organic life.
Perhaps it was too much to think. Shouldn't his race be above such pettiness?
"Why have you called us together, Shockwave?" demanded Starscream. "If the Autobots learn of this---"
"Cool your circuits!" snapped Blackarachnia. "Though I have to admit, this is risky. It's not your style, sir."
Prowl kept his optics focused on Shockwave. For eons now, the scientist had overseen the Decepticon forces. Not as a commander, his actions were more akin to an engineer, a Creator, overseeing the workings of the cogs in a machine. He fought as one of them, but wasn't a warrior like other Decepticons. He did not have Starscream's ferocity, or Blackarachnia's skill. A genius, but Prowl's own battle processor was regarded superior to Shockwave's, though. What Shockwave did have was his logic. Prowl knew his CPU saw a larger picture than most bots could imagine. Shockwave undoubtedly knew the risk of gathering the commanders together. What he had planned somehow had to be worth it.
We have been at war so long, thought Prowl. It defines our existence, but cannot be our end. You must have heard the whispers, scientist. The Decepticons troops hide like primitive lifeforms, fleeing to survive. The Autobots no longer see us as a fraction, but a minor threat, a resistance that needs 'silencing.' Our enemies control most of Cybertron, the troops believe we have nothing left.
"Cybertron is dying," declared Slockwave. The commanders tensed. Prowl sensed Soundkwave, the calmest mech alive, joints and servos hinge. No Decepticon spoke, the truth so awful, no one would even say it aloud. Too face it in words, a fear causing the fluids circulating through Prowl to run cold. But even if grim and cold, Prowl knew there was no sense in hiding from the fact. It was reality, and had to be faced.
"We already knew that!" shouted Prowl. "All of us know. Even if pushed into the gutters of our CPU, we knew this, Shockwave."
The scientist was quiet for the longest time. "But did you know we had hope, Subcommander?"
Prowl's CPU whirled in confusion. Shockwave held the commanders' attentions. Half the crowd made exclamations, blurted out questions. Prowl caught sight of Blackarachnia. Her jaw simply dropped in shock. A shout came from the three Seekers. But to Prowl's surprise as he spotted them, they shocked still. Starscream's whole frame was rigid.
"Shockwave!" The head of communication and intelligence, Soundwave, his monotone voice echoed throughout the ruins. The crowd quieted. "State meaning, now."
"With pleasure, old friend," said Shockwave. "Not long ago, our young Air Commander Starscream had quite the encounter. Seeker, if you would care to elaborate your venture."
Prowl's optics flickered to Starscream, again. The Seeker's frame close to seething, but then he laughed. It was a mirthless sound. The Subcommander regarded the Seeker wearily. The laughter died, and his faceplates were dead serious. "Elaborate? No words can do my venture justice, you walking computer."
If Shockwave minded the slight, he didn't show it. "Then show, Air Commander."
Starscream's frame tensed. What is Shockwave up too? thought Prowl. The Air Commander looked as if he wanted to punch Shockwave in his one optic. "Gladly," he said, the jaw of his faceplates clenched. Starscream raised a hand to the side of his head. There was a click, and his optics flashed. A hologram shot fourth, that of an image of space. Pitch black, specks of stars littered throughout the darkness. At the center of the hologram was a sphere, a planet, pale blue and green, covered in swirls of white.
An organic world? thought Prowl. What was the meaning of this? How could organic life offer Cyberton "hope?" The lives of organics and mechanics were near to total opposites.
"Planning to relocate us to that dust ball?" asked Blackarachnia, her tone sarcastic. "I'm sure we Decepticons would do marvelous on that planet. Should the war machines take the guises of predators and beasts? Perhaps we should call ourselves Predacons instead."
Over half the crowd shifted uncomfortably.
"As a lieutenant of special operations, I thought you would know to examine matters and circumstances with cautions. There is more to this planet than meets the optic, Blackarachnia."
"Spare me," she hissed.
Starscream's view of the planet zoomed closer to its surface. One side of the planet was shown, a massive body of water. The water stretched from the hologram's front to the horizon. A bright blue sky, set ablaze with light by a "sun," Shockwave explained. When the sun shone upon the planet's surface, the period was known as day. Days lasting mere deca-cycles, until the planet turned. The world was forever-spinning. One side would face the sun, and then turned away. When that happened, the skies were rendered dark like Cybertron's. Starscream showed them a picture of the world's darkened face.
"By the Allspark," a mech gasped. Prowl felt his own frame go slack. They all stared into the hologram. On the planet light collected in areas, like swarms of nanobots. Lights gleamed like stars, wide and far apart, yet interconnecting like a web. The gathering of lines formed a shape, but had no distinguishable pattern. Prowl's processor barely believed what his optics beheld. It looked… comprehending too startling…
Like the lights of Cybertron as seen from space.
"This is an image of the planet at night. Blackarachnia, I believe you are the expert on organic matters. Are these lights a natural phenomena?"
"N-no," stammered Blackarachnia. "Planets survive on heat or warmth, whether their own or an outside source. Organic worlds especially rely on the former. Other minerals and resources are needed for life, but warmth is especially important." Awe was in Blackarachnia's voice was she spoke; "By the appearance of this planet, this shouldn't be possible."
Thundercracker chuckled. "Wait and see femme."
"The Seekers and I," began Starscream, "had been chased by the Prime."
The crowd stood still. If the planet's lights had surprised them, they were shocked beyond words now. The pulsing of Prowl's spark froze, and his circuitry ran cold. Optimus Prime; the Supreme Commander of the Autobots, a tyrant, a warlord. The most feared mech in existence. If truth was Decepticons were built for battle and to survive war, the Aubobots existed and lived to serve the Prime. A powerful warrior, tales from the battlefield said no one could hold their own against him. He tore bots apart, as if a youngling with a fragile instrument. For a Decepticon to meet him was a death sentence.
"Why so surprised?" asked Shockwave, as if truly puzzled. "You all know the monster. He'll stop at nothing to defeat the Decepticons, and claim Cybertron for himself. The war started because of Prime's greed. He sought the Allspark's power in a campaign to conquer. Cybertron's former Lord Councilmen Megatron knew this. He fought to secure the Allspark before Prime. But Prime acted first…"
The Great Act, thought Prowl bitterly. It was on the processors of each commander there. Before the war, Prime had been a commander in the Elite Guard. But his ambitions went beyond the rank of commander, of the Elite Guard. Shockwave stated Prime sought conquest, but Prowl knew otherwise. Maybe in the beginning, the war was for control over Cybertron. But after eons of fighting, with the Decepticons driven underground, and the Autobots held Tyger Pax and the Simfur Temple…
It is a war, thought Prowl in disgust, just for war.
"And you escaped Prime?" inquired Prowl. He pushed his fears away. Letting fears and memories cloud his thinking couldn't help the Decepticons. They needed to think with clarity, and stay focused. And whatever Shockwave and Starscream planned, the Decepticons needed their logic circuits at top levels. He knew them, as peers and comrades, commanders of the Decepticons. But Starscream's tangled brilliance and brashness made the Subcommancer weary and Shockwave…. His sense of this war's scale is above our heads, thought Prowl. You see an outcome to this war other don't. The troops won't trust that, Shockwave.
"Yes, we escaped Prime," sneered Starscream. "Something you could--"
"Air Commander…" Soundwave's voice box processed. Prowl hid a smile as Starscream grudgingly shut it. Though in communication, Soundwave's massive frame kept most soldiers in place. He never spoke unless needing too. It made young soldiers joke Soundwave was more of a ticking time bomb than mech, with all that pent up strength. As long as he had been a Decepticon, Soundwave had watched Prowl's back. Among the top commanders, he placed the most trust in Prowl.
"Well, as I was saying, yes the Prime was after us. A battle had been raging on the planet of Torkulan. Our forces faced the Arielbots. We were winning until Prime showed up."
"What was Prime doing on the planet in the first place?" said Prowl. "He rarely leaves Cybertron."
"How should I know?" hissed Starscream. "Word had just reached us that the Arielbots were on Torkulan. In fact it had been a distress call from the planet itself! Those poor excuses for flyers activities were tearing the planet apart…"
"What were they after?" asked Prowl.
"The planet's webworld," answered Blackarachnia. Her blue optics met Prowl's. "The planet is living, and its citizens believe it possesses some kind of consciousness called the webworld. From what we've gathered, the Autobot flyers were headed to the planet's core before the Seekers arrived. We can't tell exactly what they were after. Most solid theory is they thought the planet had the Allspark."
The commanders murmured amongst themselves. Prowl stared at Blackarachnia in surprise. "The Allspark? Are you sure?"he asked cautiously.
"Don't get your wires crossed, Cop Con," replied Blackarachnia. "After this little disaster, our pal Soundwave sent one of his little pets to search the planet. No detection of Allspark energy was traced. The Allspark's energy can't just be gone and for it to still be there, naturally. It's unlikely the planet's people are hiding it and exploiting it. Their technology and makings are incompatible with our own. The Allspark has a very… distinct mechanical signature."
So we all know, thought Prowl. This was the important information Shockwave had? A planet had been attacked by Autobots seeking the Allspark? But since the enemies' mission had been in vain, why were they here? Did Torkulan have the answer, still? "But if Torkulan didn't have the Allspark, and their technological isn't compatible with Cybertron's, what use is Starscream's--"
"This isn't Torkulan," cut in Shockwave.
Prowl's optics was caught by Shockwave's. "The planet you see is a place called 'Earth. Starscream and the Seekers sought refuge here after being chased by Prime off Torkulan. We had returned to Torkulan once the Prime left, but the Seekers stayed behind on this planet. They swore they found… something Cybertronian there."
"What?" exclaimed Prowl, shocked. The mech could feel his composure slipping, but didn't care. The urgency to know, took hold of him. "But the lights, their gleam and formation can only be technical. But any of us can see plainly this is an organic world. The webs of lights are not in perfect symmetry, true, but the patterns speak of interlinking and connection. What phenomena can it be if not technical?"
"It is technical, Subcommander," said Shockwave.
Prowl's thoughts raced, fast to the point of glitch.
"The planet supports an organic ecosystem. However, a form of technology occupies the world, a primitive system. Machines, as strong as Cybertronians even, reside there. But all this is lifeless, the machines and the technology of this world are run by a race of organics. They are the dominant species, but only the third most intelligent if Starscream's information of the world is to be believed."
"It is," stated Starscream. The hologram of the black mass and lights vanished. In its place was what could only be a city, but unlike any city Prowl had seen. His jaw dropped. If he had not seen it, he might assume Starscream had lied. The tale sounded fabricated, too far-fetched. Machines as strong as Cybertronians? That was impossible, illogical. Nowhere in the universe was Cybertronian existence found, except on Cybertron. But his CPU, skimming through various memory loops and history files, reminded him Cybertronian life had not come not from their world. Cybteron's existence, and its children's life, had all come from the Allspark. Nothing of Cybertron existed, lived, before the Allspark. And nothing could come after it.
Then, Starscream showed technology and machines of the planet. All so alien, all so familiar. The structures towered over the planet, reaching up high and touching the sky. Like Cybertron's momentums. Mighty flyers glided through the air, their forms hidden by clouds. Once departing the clouds, they were revealed to be machines. Jets, raptors, airplanes, the list Starscream described of the flyers went on. Starscream showed flashes of the planet's cities, shadows and ghost of Cybertron's own. Roads snaked in-between the city's towers Wheeled-vehicles rolled along the roads, driven by the force of the organics, Prowl came to realize. He paid these creatures little heed, too taken by the technology and machinery. Prowl was awe-struck, humbled, and felt something he hadn't in a long-time. Something Prowl had given up yorns ago.
Hope.