Chapter 1: Autobots Rising

Megatron, the miner, gladiator, and revolutionary, with the help of an army of decepticons, and his friend, Orion Pax, tore down the old senate, and killed Sentinel Prime. He freed Cybertron from the clutches of tyrannical functionism.

Sentinel's death should have been the end. But when Megatron learned that Orion Pax's friend, Prowl, had been responsible for the death of his lifelong mentor, Terminus, on the mining world of Messatine, it ended the friendship between Pax and Megatron, and caused a rift that threatened the new autobot regime, led by Zeta Prime.

Now, as his former friend's actions and tactic become even more radical, and violent, Orion Pax leads an elite unit of autobots to shut down Megatron, and his decepticons.


Two years after the fall of Sentinel Prime:

Iacon, the crown jewel of Cybertron. The early morning hours.

The lower sections of the city, far below the spires, and interconnected speedways, below the towering skyscrapers.

Where the night lived. Neon signs. Loud, pulsating music.

Maccaddam's old oil house. Arguably the hardest place in all of Cybertron to gain entry to.

Some claimed it was easier to breach the Citadel than it was to get into Maccaddam's uninvited.

A mid sized, green mech nodded to the large bouncer, as he walked up. His audios practically burning from the volume of the music.

"You look like a cop." The bouncer stated, folding his arms. He was also green, but with purple thrown in. A big, intimidating fellow. "I've been specifically ordered not to let in cops tonight." He continued.

The darker green mech sighed.

"Not a cop, for Primus sakes. I have business here. With the shifty one. The one with the purple blinders."

"Swindle?" The bouncer asked.

"You said it, not me." The green mech replied with a smirk. "We have business. Let me in."

The bouncer sized him up. "Name?"

"Hound." The green mech replied. "You're Long Haul, yeah? You work in construction?"

Long Haul glared at him.

"Watch your words, friend."

"You're a decepticon." Hound continued.

"Hey, not so loud!" Long Haul snapped. "Alright. You have business with Swindle? Make it quick. In and out, don't make a problem out of it."

Hound grinned and nodded politely.

"Much obliged mate."

He walked past the large mech, and into the darkly lit club.

And was surprised by the sound coming from within.

A guitar. Strumming, gently and beautifully.

A white mech with blue striping sat on stage, playing a song not expected in a bar like this.

And yet, it seemed the inhabitants of the bar approved.

Hound walked through, to a back table, and sat down, ordering a drink.

Within seconds, a yellow mech walked over, and sat across from him.

He had purple half visors over each optic, and a sleazy look on his face.

"Heard you gave my guy a hard time at the door." Swindle said pointedly, sizing up the mech.

"He wasn't letting me in. And I have business with you. At least I have intentions of having business with you."

"Do you?" Swindle asked, a look of vague skepticism on his face. "You trying to buy guns then?"

"Yes." Hound replied. "I need 300 pulse rifles delivered to a warehouse in the west end of Iacon. I can send you the location, let's talk price."

Swindle chuckled. Looking over his shoulder at a decepticon who stood at attention behind him, and gesturing to Hound, as though displaying some kind of fault. Hound felt a twinge of anger in his frame.

"Slow down big guy." Swindle warned, turning his attention back to Hound. "Now. You have a cube here." He pointed to Hound's drink. "Drink it, then we can do business."

Hound narrowed his optics. Looking at Swindle carefully.

"Let's get price sorted out first. Then I'll drink as much as you want."

Swindle sighed.

"Now who orders a drink, and then doesn't drink it?" He asked, frowning as he looked over Hound's shoulder. "Don't trust the highgrade I carry?"

Hound looked around the room shiftily.

Lots of regulars. Plenty of neutrals. More than a few decepticons. And they seemed to have their optics glued on him.

"I've been warned about dealing with you mate. The drink was just to signal to you. I wouldn't actually drink whatever poison you sell."

Swindle grimaced.

"That's a damn shame. You come into my establishment, try to initiate business, but you won't drink my liquor? What am I to make of that?"

"Make of it what you want." Hound replied. "How much for the guns?"

Swindle laughed. Loudly. Loud enough to make Hound flinch. Loud enough to earn an irritated glance from the musician on stage.

"You're not good at this, are you?" Swindle asked. "How long have you been on the force?"

Hound stared blankly back, a wave of anxiety rushing through his frame. He could feel his frame tense, his energon heat up.

"I just came to do business, mate..."

"I have a gun pointed at your tank, friend." Swindle stated. "I also have a pair of friends over your shoulder that are ready to take you out back. Do you think I'm an idiot?"

Hound shook his helm.

"You lost me pal. I must be missing something. I'll be on my..."

He began to stand, only for Swindle to lift his gun onto the table.

Pointed at Hound's Head.

"Hound. You're an autobot. It doesn't take a genius to look into government records. Do you think I'm that stupid?"

Hound paused a moment, then shrugged.

"I heard you were known for your mouth, not your brain..."

"WELL YOU HEARD WRONG!" Swindle shouted, slamming his fist on the table. "Now, since I have this gun to your head, my next question is, what exactly did you plan to get from me? A bill of sale? Some kind of solid evidence? Something to put me away?" He looked at Long Haul, who had slid into the room. "What do you autobots have on me?"

Hound chuckled. He turned to look at the two decepticons standing in the darkness behind them.

They both had rifles.

"We've got enough that your hand really should be shaking." Hound replied, grabbing the cube and taking a long swig. "The fact is, you're a known decepticon arms dealer, and we already nailed your shipment to Tetrahex twenty minutes ago." He put the half empty cube down, and smirked at Swindle.

"So go ahead and pull the trigger. We already got you."

Swindle glared angrily back at him. Then he gestured to the two decepticons, who came walking toward them.

"How many are coming?" Swindle asked, as the two roughly grabbed Hound, and lifted him out of the chair.

"Counting was never my specialty." Hound replied smugly.

"HOW MANY?!" Swindle demanded, standing up and pointing the gun in his face, pressing it against his metal cheek.

"Five." A smooth voice called out from the stage.

Swindle turned in time to see the white and blue musician stand up.

His guitar transforming into a rifle, turning to point at them.

An autobot badge appeared on the mech's chest.

"Y'all are goin to jail." The musician said with a smirk.

Hound let out a dry chuckle, leaning back in his seat.

"Bout time, Jazz."

"I was feelin the music Hound. Never interrupt a creative rhythm, it's bad for the spark." Jazz replied.

"That's only two, you morons." Swindle snapped. "Neither of you know how to count."

"Primus, you are loud." Jazz muttered. "And we can count just fine, our colleagues are running a little..."

The front doors of the bar exploded. It was an audio shattering blast, that sent metal shards flying.

The bar patrons screamed as they fled for the exits, smoke filling the club.

Three figures emerged, guns drawn, striding confidently into the suddenly mostly empty room.

A handful of mechs remained, glaring at the newcomers. All decepticon.

"Bar's closed." Orion Pax declared, the red and blue mech firing his pistol in the air confidently. "Clear out."

On his right, a slightly shorter black and white mech, Prowl, his best friend, and partner.

On his left, Ironhide. A big red mech with a southern drawl and big fists. And at this moment, a scowl on his face.

"You heard him. Clear out." Said mech drawled. "Y'all don't want any part of this."

The remaining mechs all drew weapons and pointed them at the newly arrived autobots.

"Actually they do." Swindle replied smugly. "They're my protection detail. And really Jazz? I liked you. Your guitar solos were just..." He kissed his metal fingers.

"Yeah well you weren't a terrible boss for a slimy little oil filter, Swindle." Jazz replied. "You guys best drop your guns, and quick. You bombed my bar last year, and I been itchin for some payback ever since."

"Jazz, Don't exacerbate the situation." Prowl warned. "And don't make it personal."

"You know how much Megatron would pay me to drop you right now?" One of the decepticon's asked. "You got some brass bearings walking in here, Prowl."

"Hound, I don't know how you talked us into lettin you be the bait." Ironhide muttered, ignoring the decepticons standing around them. "Never seen an actor as bad as you. It took the dumbest arms dealer of all time a minute to figure ya out."

Swindle bristled, a look of rage spreading on his face as the big red enforcer spoke.

"Thanks Ironhide, I missed you too." Hound replied. "So we just gonna stand here pointing guns at each other or...?"

"Nah. Pax, do the cop thing." Ironhide urged.

"Right. Swindle and associated decepticons, you have one chance to surrender yourselves peacefully. You are under arrest for unlawful arms sales, and anti-Cybertronian activities." Orion Pax announced. "You have the right to..."

"Oh for Primus sakes, WOULD SOMEBODY SHOOT ALREADY?!" Swindle demanded.

The laser bursts began to fly before his sentence had finished.

Energy beams blasted across the room, striking metal, smashing energon cubes, and sending the club into disarray.

Two of the shots hit Ironhide in the side, succeeding only in irritating the red mech.

He turned and blasted a decepticon in the head with his shotgun, spraying energon across the bar, as his head disintegrated. Ironhide grabbed the headless corpse before it could drop, and he spun around, using it as a shield that took a few laser shots, before hurling it at Swindle.

Hound turned and uppercut the decepticon that was grabbing him, pulling out his pistol, and shot the distracted Swindle in the knee. The mech let out a cry of pain as he collapsed to the floor.

"Stay for a while, goggles." He teased.

Several shots from Jazz's guitar/gun downed decepticons across the room, before he tossed it, and dove into the fray.

Orion turned around and got off a shot just in time for a big green and purple lump to smash into him, knocking him into Prowl, and sending both crashing to the floor.

"You picked the wrong bar, autobot scum." Long Haul boomed.

"You picked the wrong night to suck at bouncing." Hound shouted, blasting Long Haul in the back with his pistol.

It had minimal effect. Long Haul turned to him, charging in and grabbing his pistol, crushing it in his hands. Hound looked up at him with nervous optics.

"No hard feelings, yeah?" He asked, watching Jazz come up behind the large mech.

Jazz ripped a barstool out of the floor, and brought it smashing down on the big decepticon's head.

Long Haul turned to him, hate in his optics.

"Whoops." Jazz whispered. "Ya know, it felt cool to do, i'm gonna say it was worth it. If one of you guys could gimme a hand, he's kinda out of my weight class..."

"I got him."

Before Long Haul could react, Ironhide came in with a punch hard enough to leave a buckle in the construction mech's cheek.

The big mech was pushed back, shaking off the punch, just in time to receive another one.

He collapsed against a side table, and glared up at Ironhide, as he and Hound stood over the mech.

"You gotta teach me to punch like that." Hound marveled.

"I'll give ya a lesson right now." Ironhide replied. "Ready?"

"Hells yeah." Hound replied.

The two exchanged a look, as Long Haul slowly began to regain his senses.

Then they reared back, and delivered a duo of punches that knocked decepticon bouncer into stasis.

The bar was quiet now, save for Swindle whimpering on the floor, as energon coursed from his leg.

Orion and Prowl slowly stood up. Orion let out a long sigh.

Long Haul was a painful guy to have crash into you.

"Good work, team."

Ironhide looked over at him and let out a scoff.

"Good job gettin bowled over, guys".

"Hey, that guy was...big." Prowl muttered.

"Come on Ironhide, you know you wanted to be the one gettin most of the shooting and punching in anyway." Jazz said, patting the larger mech on the shoulder.

"You know me all too well, music man." Ironhide replied.

Hound dragged Swindle up, roughly handcuffing the mech, as Ironhide and Jazz cuffed Long Haul, and hauled him to his feet.

"You...better watch yourselves, Pax. You and your team...got a bullseye the size of Kaon on your back. The boss has plans for your boys." Swindle snarled.

"I'm not afraid of Megatron." Orion replied, optics narrowed.

"You should be." Swindle wheezed, as Hound dragged him toward the door. "Your buddy, Zeta Prime too. Your days are numbered autobots, best bet on that."

The team led the two decepticons to a waiting transport wagon outside, as more autobots swarmed the bar.

"I'm not a gambler." Orion stated.

As the two mech's were loaded into the wagon, Orion and Prowl stood by, confidently.

"Enjoy the big house fellas. Don't worry. You'll have plenty of company." Prowl declared.

They slammed the door shut, and the wagon rumbled away.

"Guess you're on the decepticon's radar now too, Jazz." Hound said, giving the mech a sympathetic look.

Jazz grinned.

"Bout time. I ain't afraid of no cons. Plus, no more playin my guitar for those spawns a glitches. How we celebratin?"

The group exchanged looks.

"Bar still has booze." Hound suggested, with a smirk.

"Help yourself." Orion said with a nod. "You've all earned it. Prowl, with me. We have to check in at the Citadel."

"Seeya Pax. Swindle wasn't wrong by the way. Watch your back." Ironhide warned. "Cons are everywhere these days."

Orion and Prowl waved to the trio, then walked down the street, transforming down into their vehicle modes.

"You ever get the feeling we're in way over our heads?" Prowl asked.

"Nope." Orion replied, driving ahead of the police car mech. "We're winning, Prowl. Slowly. One block at a time. We're winning."


"Swindle was arrested. Long Haul too. The rest were killed in the shootout." A black and white police mech reported.

Megatron turned around slowly to face his messenger.

"Thank you Barricade."

"Should I try to spring them my lord?" Barricade asked. "I can have it done today if needed."

Megatron turned back to the giant monitor in front of him.

"No. You must maintain your cover. Our plan is nearing completion. Do you know who was responsible for their capture?"

Barricade let out a humorless chuckle, as he ran his hand across his chest, his decepticon badge morphing back into a false autobot one.

"You sure you want to know?"

Megatron was silent for a moment. A red optic turning back to glare at Barricade.

"Sorry. It was Pax, Sir. Orion Pax, and his unit of enforcers."

Megatron nodded.

"That will be all. Thank you again, Barricade. Return to the Citadel and resume your cover."

He turned to look at the monitor, as a map of the planet projected in front of him.

"You've certainly been busy, old friend." He said quietly to himself.