It seems that time passes so quickly. Life and death in a constant circle spinning in chaos. During wartime leaders shall rise and fall. Factions shall grow, divide, and re-unite. Tides of war may be so simply changed, so much like a gentle breeze blowing over a pond. War is what creates heroes and villains and their legends. Balance must be maintained between the light and dark. When the darkness seems to overcome purity and all hope seems lost, one ideal always survives.
Heroes never die.
TRANSFORMERS
Cybertron
Chapter 1: Sacrilege
A scant hundred years have passed since Optimus Primal sacrificed himself so that the planet Cybertron could be organic once more. With Megatron dead, planet Cybertron's freedom was once more restored. Unfortunately, with all freedom comes crimes and unrest. Weeks after the Maximal Cheetor was given command to lead the Maximals and tap into Vector Sigma (known as the Oracle as well), old Predacon enemies became agitated, demanding that a Predacon rule. Cheetor denied them this, and invariably caused them to recreate the Predacon faction led by Magnatron, a patriotic Predacon as well as a brilliant war general.
Battle after battle swept through Cybertron. The organic life that Cheetor and his Maximal allies had struggled so valiantly to defend and protect became the fields of some of the most gruesome battles, decimating the fragile organics.
Decades passed, and each year Cheetor's anger towards the Predacons grew exponentially. Witnessing such ruthless war so quickly after total innocence hardened the Maximal, quickening his resolve and ferocity in battle. In an ingenious move, Cheetor decided to bring back his predecessors, the Autobots, in a far more efficient form; minimizing the Autobot's size by less than a quarter, yet still retaining the power of a normal sized Autobot with the energy needs of a Maximal!
As the time of our tale draws near, the Maximals have re-captured over three quarters of Predacon land and resources. Despite these victories, Maximal supplies have run low, and a final push cannot be made. Only one more of these "Neo-Autobots" can be produced before time runs out and the Predacons regroup and rearm themselves.
The Predacons are not helpless, however. As we enter this story, they are moments away from signing a pact with a fellow robotic species, named the Omikron, claimed decedents of Cybertronians 4 million years ago. . . .
***
Cheetor quietly walked down the battered hallways, his partially silvered body refracting light from above head fixtures. Cheetor's once proud techno organic body was showing the signs of war in burnt away flesh patches, revealing his true robot nature underneath. His composure remained calm despite the fact that he was willingly about to commit sacrilege, purposely robbing the grave of his past leaders. The end of the hallway seemed to approach too fast…perhaps it was just anxiety. The door hissed open. Cheetor simultaneously sighed reluctantly as he strode into the Allspark Matrix navigation chamber.
"Rawhyde, what's our status?" Cheetor asked of the hefty Maximal.
"Charged to maximum, ready to go, commander," Rawhyde answered, flipping switches and turning knobs. Rawhyde was Cheetor's chief science and engineering officer. He was a grayish blue techno organic hippo in beast mode, while his robot mode was primarily deep red with black accent marks up and down his arms and legs. His legs were partially those of a hippo and partially robotic, whereas his thick, developed arms were totally robotic. The left and right sides of his torso were made of the hippo head, and through the middle ran a blocky scarlet divider. His front hippo legs opened up and formed shoulder pads. Rawhyde's head was a grey, heavy set head, containers of two orange eyes with centuries, if not millennia, of wisdom.
Cheetor stepped slowly into a large oval capsule. "Go," he ordered as he locked himself into the capsule, shutting the door thereafter.
Thousands, if not millions, of shades of blue danced around Cheetor inside the capsule. Overwhelmed, Cheetor concentrated tapping into Vector Sigma to give him the second sight that he needed. Instantly, the shades of sapphire focused into a sea of sparks, each glimmering and shining with its own radiance and light. Cheetor stretched his hand out and flew through the sparks, his eyes aglow, searching for the two sparks he desired.
Cheetor abruptly halted himself as a spark approached him. He gingerly handled it, knowing full well that his hands contained Optimus Prime's spark.
"Rawhyde, attempt extraction process. Now," Cheetor whispered. Optimus Prime's spark surged and throbbed inside of Cheetor's hands. After what seemed like an eternity of watching the spark go through this torture, Rawhyde's voice came over the intercom.
"The extraction was 25% successful," Rawhyde regretfully said, "We only got a quarter of his spark."
"So be it," Cheetor tried to maintain a strong voice, but he ultimately failed. The sparks around him began accelerating again as he searched for the second one he needed to complete this project.
As before, Cheetor abruptly halted in front of one of the blue orbs of energy. His eyes briefly glowed, as the spark traveled into Cheetor's hands.
"Optimus," Cheetor quietly voiced in wonderment. "Rawhyde, proceed with second extraction."
"Cheetor…are you sure that you want this spark?" Rawhyde warned, "He almost caused the destruction of Cybertron."
"No, no, its alright. Initiate the extractor."
Primal's sphere of energy crackled and fizzled as the extractor did its job. Rawhyde's voice boomed over the intercom, "We only got 25% of this spark too…we'll have to deal with it, the extractor's cables are fried. We've done all that we can do. Disengage and return, Commander."
Cheetor's head drooped. He wasn't expecting results better than this, but there was always that thread of a hope and dream…Now all that remained was to fuse the two sparks together into a larger spark.
***
Wonderment entered Cheetor's eyes as he watched the two spark quarters begin to fuse into a third spark. He hadn't felt any form of wonderment since Cybertron was finally reformatted a hundred years ago. He looked on as Primal and Prime's sparks danced around the third spark, the spark of a potential leader and warrior. The sparks orbited faster and faster, eventually breaking down into streams of energy, spiraling downward into the other spark. In a great symphony of light, the three became one.
The glass walls lifted, and the completed spark floated into Cheetor's hands.
"Welcome to the world, Pax Convoy."
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