Author's Notes: Just to let you all know, I started this thing before I even knew there was going to be a fourth Transformers film, so none of this story has anything to do with the (yet to be released as I am writing this note) fourth movie. So that being said, you will quickly notice this takes place pretty much right after Dark of the Moon. It's a weird mixture between movie-verse, G1, and Shattered Glass (sort of). Got you interested? Maybe?

I think that's all. Oh right, disclaimer. Well, if any of you think I own the Transformers... I wish you were right. But alas I do not, so all rights to the transformers franchise, movies, characters, and concepts go to their rightful owners, I'm assuming they know who they are. I just know it's not me.

Happy reading!

Deep in space, a lone, dormant moon roamed the expanses of the universe. By some event or cosmic anomaly, this body had somehow lost its host, sun or perhaps a parent planet, and now traveled alone. The sphere was made of metal; vast metallic continents spanned the surface, creating a grid of rivets and recesses that wrapped the planet like vines. The fact that this moon was made of metal could not be taken by surprise, several planets in the galaxy were also comprised of metal and were in fact inhabited by metallic beings.

However, there were no signs of life – organic or cybernetic – on this moon. Nor were there any signs of previous habitation such as cities or roads.

For eons this moon had drifted solo. Far and wide it had traveled – as if searching for its lost host or some other kind of partner. It had remained silent since ancient times, until now. Now the moon stirred. For some purpose, the cosmic body rumbled, metal plates shifted and lights streamed from crevices. Then a voice spoke from the sphere – deeper than a quaking planet and more penetrating than the light of a lone star.

"Cybertron" the planet growled. The moon altered its course and drifted off into the darkness.

o~o~o

Overseeing the burial of Sentinel Prime, Megatron, and the other deceased Decepticons had been rough. But being Prime, it was his duty. It was hard to grasp that the war was finally (hopefully) coming to an end. Megatron was dead – again – and would most likely stay that way. How many times can one mech be resurrected? Being once offline himself, Optimus knew the ramifications – physically and emotionally – of being resurrected, and he couldn't see how one mech could go through that painful process twice.

But the burial ended quickly enough; not very many tears were shed over a bunch of offline Decepticons – and one traitor. It was with a heavy spark that Optimus could even think of Sentinel Prime, his own predecessor and mentor, as a traitor. In his short eulogy, though, Optimus kept strictly to how Sentinel had been known and regarded before he had left Cybertron, choosing to not mention the previous Prime's final, traitorous actions.

On their way back to Washington DC – to what remained of their latest NEST outpost after Sentinel's rampage – Optimus had time to think over quite a few things. His thoughts first turned to the trailer he was pulling, with Que's offline chassis inside. Que was to be sunk into the ocean in a waterproof trailer, next to where Jazz rested. That funeral was to take place about a week from now. Also in his trailer were several oil barrels filled with Ironhide's ashes, so to speak. It was quite a load to be hauling.

Optimus took time to despair over the fates that had befallen some of his most respected Autobots. Jazz: second in command, torn apart by Megatron himself; Ironhide: Weapons specialist, shot in the back by a traitor and forced to watch himself crumble into rust; Que: scientist and inventor, executed as a Decepticon prisoner. Optimus was glad indeed that the war was coming to an end and that no one else can suffer the fate of so many other Autobots before them.

But he forced his thoughts onto a different matter. First and foremost, once they returned to base Optimus was to have his right arm repaired and reattached by Ratchet, something the medic had stressed profusely and aggressively upon seeing the state Optimus had been in after his battle with Sentinel and Megatron. All other injuries inflicted on anyone else were to be repaired as well. Base was to be cleaned and repaired to the best of their ability, and a proper urn was to be constructed for Ironhide's remains. Then the funeral was to take place. Once all the Autobots' personal affairs had been taken care of, they were to return to Chicago to help clean up and rebuild the city.

Ol' Prime's been awfully quiet back there, Sideswipe suddenly said over the comm-link, to everyone except the Prime.

He's got a heavy load to carry, Ratchet responded over the same link.

A moment of respectful silence followed. Like the Prim, they all felt depressed and even slightly guilty over the deaths of Ironhide and Que, but no one felt more guilty than Ratchet. Being the medic, he held himself personally responsible over any injuries that couldn't be fixed, even when he knew there was absolutely nothing he could have done for their two fallen friends. And seeing Que executed right in front of him had certainly rattled his circuits.

The silence was eventually interrupted by Sideswipe again. Can you all believe that this war is finally over?

No, Ratchet responded again. This war is far from over. So long as the Decepticon insignia is worn by just one mech, it will never be over.

Yeah, so's long as I get tah bust oop some Decepticon booty, I'll be a happy mech, Leadfoot chimed in.

Bumblebee jumped into the conversation, only to reprimand the Wrecker. You want the war to continue? How could you say that?

Now, I didn't say that! All I said was I'll be happy tah kick s'more Decepticon aft.

Sure didn't sound like that to me, Bumblebee grumbled.

Come on guys, Dino cut in. Megsie and his posse are all dead! The fighting's over for now, we should all be partying! The warrior accentuated his point with an exuberant engine rev.

Dino! Ratchet barked. Now is not the time to party. Have some respect for your fallen comrades.

Neither Ironhide or Que would want us to mourn over them for too long, Dino responded, surprisingly solomn.

It hasn't been a day since they died, we haven't been mourning for nearly long enough. So that's enough out of you, Ratchet sniped.

An uncomfortable silence followed. This lasted for no more than five minutes before Sideswipe spoke up again. So uh, who's up for some eye spy?

NO! Several 'bots shot back, ending the conversation once and for all.

So the general feeling after the battle of Chicago was bittersweet. Yes, Megatron had been defeated - again - as well as most of his key officers. The threat from Sentinel had been eliminated and the remaining Decepticon forces were scattered and leaderless. But the Autobots had lost two in their ranks and most of an entire human city had been decimated, along with the deaths of thousands, if not close to a million, humans. Not to mention that Cybertron was finally and truly lost; nearly half of the cybernetic planet had been undoubtedly decimated in the black hole created by the space bridge shutting down. They all knew there was absolutely no way of resurrecting their home now, it's just nobody was willing to say it out loud just yet.