Imperial warlord-Thanks. And at least he went out fighting.

Gbscientist-I'll concede on Unicron, but not Megatron. He's lost everything, after all. There's only so much even he can take. Thanks.

Starscream624-Thanks. :) I tried to give each character a 'voice'.

Mr Crossover-Thanks. Almost over, though.

Zelda the Swordsman-LOL, thanks. I loathe the NJO. As for Grimlock, at the time it was the only thing I could think of. But, yeah.

Here we go!

Chapter Twenty-Five: End of the Beginnings
Coruscant, the rebuilt Senate Chamber
Chief of State Triebakk fussed with his sash and fiddled with the official insignia of Chief of State. A protocol droid hovered around him and flapped his arms. "Now, remember. This is the first session in the new Chamber. It must go perfectly! Oh, and a Cybertronian will be here, too!"

Triebakk bared his fangs and stepped away from the droid. [I know, I know! One of their teams rebuilt this place for a discount.] His furry hand rubbed along the safety railing of his pod. [And they did a great job, too.] He flicked a switch and the ceiling above retracted, allowing the pod to rise up on repulsorlift engines.

A loud murmuring died down as his head poked up form the hole. Senators representing every world of the New Republic turned to the Wookiee, who's fur bristled. He tapped the microphone in front of him and called upon the spirit of the Mother Forest before speaking.

[Fellow Senators, we have dodged a plasma bolt. We hemmed, bickered and symbolically fiddled while civilization almost fell. Thanks to the Cybertronians, we have a second chance. If we waste it, then we deserve to fall.]

He waited a bit as thunderous applause swept the Chamber. Triebakk allowed himself a small smile as the largest senate alcove lit up, showing its occupant. [I now present to you, the first senator from Cybertron. Alpha Trion!]

Alpha's mouth plates folded up in a smile, the aged cheeks actually wrinkling like an organic being's would. His optics danced with light as he surveyed his newest colleagues. "It is my humble honor to bring Cybertron into the galactic community," he said, his internal speakers amplifying his voice so all could hear it. "Now, then. Let's get to work. We're not getting any younger, right?"

Mara lit the candles and turned to Artoo. "He got the message, right?"

The squat astromech blatted and his domed head whirled around. [Wouldn't you know more than me, Miss 'lifelong semi-mystical connection'?] He extended his third leg and wheeled off to the back of Mara and Luke's room on Yavin IV, plugging into a recharge socket in the wall. [One thing to say for the Constructicons, they thought of everything!]

The redhead growled at Artoo before confirming Luke's location through the Force. Heading up and five, four, three, two… She walked up to the door just as it opened. "Hey, farmboy."

Luke stood there and his eyes widened at Mara. She wore a tight red dress with a slit up the side and bare shoulders. Her hair cascaded down her back like a river of lava and she flashed him a dazzling smile. In contrast, he wore his usual black jumpsuit and brown robe. "Mara, what's the occasion and…" He sniffed twice. "Are those krayt ribs?"

Mara snickered as he walked over and took off his robe. The brown piece of fabric floated over to a pole near the entrance as both sat down. Luke's brow furrowed as he dug in. "Mara, why is Ben with Revan and Bastila? And… why are you so dim in the Force?" He rose from his seat. "Mara, if there-"

"I'm pregnant, Luke. According to Cilghal, it's twins." A beatific smile broke out over Mara's face. "Ben's gonna have playmates!"

The Jedi Master paused and stood still for a moment before he matched Mara's grin with one of his own. "Yahoo!" he cried, grabbing her and twirling her around. He peppered her with kisses before settling down a bit. "How far long? Boys, girls or both?"

Mara held up her hand and laughed. "About two weeks and not sure." She kissed his nose and waited until he let go of her before continuing. "So, shall we go back to supper or skip it and… go to dessert."

Luke read her intentions through the Force and swallowed. "Well… I always was fond of sweets."

A sly grin crossed Mara's lips as she led him away. "My thoughts exactly."

Revan held Ben up in his arms. "Well, young one. Conner will be along in a month and your mother's undoubtedly shocked the holy heck out of your father." He turned to Bastila and grinned. "How do you think he'll take the news?"

Bastila patted her swollen belly and groaned slightly. "Oh, about the same as you. Now if only Conner would show up." She sat up, using her hands as leverage against the chair. "Revan, do you think we'd ever end up here, four thousand years after our time?"

Revan set Ben down on his lap and looked over to his wife. "No, I didn't. And now that it's over, I'm not sure what to do with myself." He held Ben close and stuck out his tongue. "So, Ben. Any advice for Uncle Revan?"

Bastila laughed, in spite of her discomfort. "I say you, me, Talo and Brianna should teach at the Academy for a bit. We should show the younger ones the true power of the Force, and show Tionne, Streen and Kam some of the lost techniques."

Bastila nodded, abruptly somber. "Luke started out with nothing and accomplished so much. Yet… there is only so far he could go on old holocrons and self-teaching." She leaned forward and patted his hand. "We can offer them so much."

The Jedi Master nodded. "Yes, and we have to. Never again must the Jedi sink as low as they did after the so-called 'Ruusan Reformations'. Luke's got a good head on his shoulders and made a lot of good decisions already." He smiled at Ben. "Well, Ben. Back to school for us!"

Ben giggled, but soon began fussing. Revan's nose wrinkled and he sighed. "Well, I'd better get used to this aspect of parenthood."

Deep Space, the RSS Viscount
Admiral Ackbar's eyes swiveled around before focusing on the door as it chimed. "Come in."

The door slid open and Wedge stepped inside. Ackbar motioned to the closest chair. "Ah, come in, General. I take it this is about my impending retirement-my real retirement?"

Wedge sat down and shrugged. "Well, yeah." He leaned forward. "You're not feeling the sniffles, are you?"

The Mon Cal's mouth opened in silent laughter. "No, General Antilles. I'm feeling healthy, although the disease did take some toll on me. It's just my time to move on. General Kre'fey has been approved as my replacement." He pressed a button and spoke into e speaker grille on his desk. "Aide, get me my itinerary."

Wedge breathed out and blinked. "I'll miss you, Ackbar. You were my mentor and a good friend throughout most of my life." He stood up and held out his hand. "The Force will be with you."

The salmon-colored admiral also stood and clasped Wedge's hand. His eyes twinkled a bit as he spoke in his gravelly voice. "I won't be dead or dying, General. Feel free to stop by anytime. Just… give me a heads-up if Wes tags along."

Wedge chuckled as a familiar Sullustan walked in. "Here you are, Admiral," he said, handing Ackbar a datapad. "Your schedule is set until next week."

Ackbar nodded to the aide. "Thank you, Ensign Sovv. Carry on like this and you might get back to lieutenant one day."

Quinlan slashed at A'Sharad's flank, almost catching him with a nasty training burn. The Tusken Jedi shuffled back as the two Jedi dueled in front of the Academy's gates. "I've spent most of the past few decades bringing little touches of civilization to the Ghorfa," he breathed out while parrying a rather aggressive attack from his old friend. "Writing, eliminating the Blood-rite ritual… I think we'll be able to make peace with the moisture farmers soon."

Quinlan grinned as he almost overextended himself. The muscular Kiffar backed up, making sure A'Sharad couldn't slip past his guard. "Sounds nice. I was training Korto while also running an underground monorail for Wookiee slaves." He blocked an overhead stab as his old friend jumped and thrust. "Not bad!"

A'Sharad's grin split his face, wrinkling the tattoos crisscrossing his weathered face. He landed to Quinlan's side and swung his blade at him. "Thanks!" He suddenly stepped back and deactivated his lightsaber. "I'll be heading back, soon. My people need me. Tahiri and Anakin are coming back with me for a month. She wants him to 'formally' meet her adoptive father."

A sharp laugh escaped Quinlan's mouth. "So, adding a new member to the family? Just make sure he gets a bit of slack." He also deactivated his lightsaber and the two old friends walked up to the Temple even as Revan and Bastila walked out.

Quinlan grinned as the Jedi Masters approached. "I gather Luke took the news well?"

Revan's scarlet eyes danced. "We handed Ben back to them a few minutes ago and, let's say I didn't think it was possible for a human's mouth to get to be the size of a Hutt's." He looked up to the sky and sighed.

At that moment, A'Sharad noted the datapad clutched in his gloved hands. "Bad news?" he asked.

Bastila's eyes watered a bit. "We received a message from Bastion. Grand Admiral Pellaeon's funeral will be in two weeks. It's to be part of a week of mourning over the deaths at the Battle of Cybertron." He glanced at the two Jedi. "Will you two…"

Quinlan shrugged. "I'm not sure, Revan. I never knew him and… well, my whole family was hunted by the Empire of old." The normally imposing man seemed to shrink somewhat at the confession.

Bastila spoke up. "Not the right attitude, Quinlan. And this isn't the Empire of old, either. From what I've read, Gilad made up for a lot of Palpatine's depravations. Master Skywalker himself considered the Old Man 'a friend'." Her eyes bore into Quinlan, making him flinch.

"Well… I suppose Korto, Khaleen and I could use the bonding time," he finally said, his dreadlocks waving slightly with a shake of his head. "When are we leaving?"

Revan's scarlet eyes glanced to the Temple's landing area even as a Cybertronian shuttle landed. The orange, tapered wedge with a triangular command section blew out jets of air as it settled on the landing gear jutting from the ventral surface of command pod and the two aft wings.

Revan turned and motioned to the shuttle with his right hand. "Flight takes off in twelve hours. Please have all carryon luggage stowed properly and please tip the attendants generously."

Ultra Magnus' optics dimmed slightly. Internal screens projected into his field of vision scrolled through several pages of information. "Population's begun to climb somewhat."

Bludgeon crossed his arms and his face took on an expression of contemplation. ""No Great War, Vector Sigma is fully functional again and males and females are creating sparks again. This is a good thing. Primus may be gone, but his children live on."

Across the table from him, Elita One spoke up. "You're right, Bludgeon. It's a sign of hope for the future." Her arm's servomotors whirred slightly and she took Optimus' hand with her own. "Optimus and I have been discussing… creating a new spark of our own."

There was silence in the main conference chamber before Starscream chuckled. "So, after thirteen million years, you two are finally getting serious." He leaned across the table and slapped Prime on the shoulder. "Congratulations, you two."

Prime's engines heated up a bit and his face mask glowed reddish. "Thank you… Starscream." He glanced around. "Grand Admiral Pellaeon's funeral and general memorial service will be in about two weeks. We've been invited to send a representative, and I believe Bludgeon would be the best one."

The Pretender stood up straight, his armor plates jangling a bit. "Me?" he asked, pointing a thumb to his yellowish chest plate. "I never even met the man."

Optimus nodded. "Yes, you. You're a warrior sparked, Bludgeon. Cut from the same plate as Gilad himself. I can think of few better than you."

Bludgeon's skeletal face twisted in a grin. "Then I shall be honored to go. For true warriors know the souls of other true warriors." He looked around. "Any more business, Shockwave?"

Shockwave's single, pale yellow optic set in the middle of his hexagonal-shaped cranium flashed as he spoke in his cool, detached fashion. "Yes, Bludgeon. Don't worry, after another two to three hours, you may practice wielding your archaic blade weapons and arcane rituals."

Bludgeon scowled and planted his hands on the table, levering himself to his feet. "Watch your vocal processors, Shockwave. My blade hasn't tasted energon in quite a while."

Shockwave raised his left arm and the gun attached at his wrist glowed slightly. Prime's optics flicked between the pair before he reached out with the Force and restrained them both. "Stand down," he said, lessening the pressure as both cooled down. "There, that's better."

Bludgeon's shoulder bobbed a bit. "My apologies, Optimus." He turned his gaze to Shockwave and his empty eye sockets locked onto the emotionless Cybertronian. "And my apologies, Shockwave. I shall restrain myself better in the future. On my code of honor."

Shockwave waved him off. "Your apology is accepted, if you accept mine for insulting your warrior code." His single optic flashed. "Now, where were we?" He paused as he recalled the last few minutes of the meeting from his short-term memory files. "Ah, yes, we just agreed to send you to Grand Admiral Pellaeon's funeral."

Bludgeon considered that for a moment. "I've never been to Bastion before. I'll have to download the protocols for such an event."

Ultra Magnus spoke up. "Well, if that's settled, I've got the figures for our profits from construction teams." His mouth plates turned down slightly as he continued. "We're making a good profit, but the Vong Shapers are proving… difficult to work with. Some of them-okay, most of them refuse to work with 'the grossest of abominations'."

A short bark of laughter escaped Starscream's vocalizer. "You're surprised by this, Ultra Magnus? Oh, that's right. You never fought the Vong. The most fanatical of them disdained dead plant matter and rocks."

Magnus shook his head, the servos in his neck whirring slightly. "Incredible that they made it as far as they did with such primitive and ultimately ineffective weapons." He glanced to Prime. "It must've been pretty slaggin' difficult holding back against them."

Prime nodded. "It was, old friend." He called up several memory files on the battles. "Their fanaticism and unthinking hatred made them easy targets and beings to return their hate, but that would've been the easy path, the path to the Dark Side. Instead, we had to fight them without giving in to our baser instincts."

Bludgeon listened to him, leaning forward. "A warrior's code there, Optimus. A shame we were on opposite sides for so long."

Coruscant, headquarters for reconstruction
Nem Yim stood before the three beings, her feet shifting from the floor. "It is going… better than expected," she mumbled. Her right limb pointed to a transparisteel window showing a panoramic view of Coruscant. Three KYD construction droids were ripping up the remains of the World Brain while speeders flew overhead, spraying specially-tailored defoliant what would kill any non-humanoid Vong bio-forms.

General Garm Bel Iblis leaned across the table separating him, General Carlist Rieekan and Huffer from the Vong Shaper. "Not good enough, though. A lot of the Shapers are a bit… resistant to working with even us organic beings, to say nothing of Cybertronians like Huffer here!"

The orange Cybertronian with silver-plated arms nodded, the motion somewhat lost with the 'hood' over his head. "Yeah, and their tools-if you can call them that-give me the creeps." He turned to Bel Iblis at his waist joint. "Wasn't all that slag supposed to have been tossed into a star?"

The silver-haired general shrugged. "We're getting to it. End of the month at the latest." He turned his full attention back to Nem Yim, making her unconsciously flinch. "Talk to them, Nem Yim. Help them to realize we're not enemies any longer and the old ways were wrong."

Nem Yim stifled a laugh, her left hand covering her mouth. "It is easy to say, but difficult to change their minds. Even though we know where we truly come from, the old beliefs give many comfort."

Huffer's arms crossed, the maneuvering vanes scrapping together slightly. "Hmm, someone might wanna clue them in on their true origins again. Their 'gods' were merely flash-imprinted stories from those ancient Sith."

Nem Yim's eyes focused on Huffer and she sneered. "It's easy for you to say when your beliefs were proven right, Huffer! We had our entire way of life physically and spiritually shattered in the space of a few months!"

Carlist sat up straight, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. "Like you tried to physically and spiritually shatter our way of life?" He stood up, knocking his chair back. "How many planets did-"

Bel Iblis slammed his hands down on the table. "ENOUGH!" he thundered. "This is not the time, nor place for this." He turned his wizened eyes first to Nem Yim. "Thank you for remaining as our liaison. Please keep us informed of anything untoward." He then turned to Carlist. "Please remember to keep a civil tongue, old friend." He stepped back and eyed them simultaneously. "Fighting will get us nowhere."

Nem Yim swallowed and bowed her head. "My apologies, General. I'll keep your words in mind." And with that, she walked out.

Huffer's optics tracked her as she walked out. "Sad to say she's the best Vong for the job." He walked over to the window and held up his arms, the sensors embedded in the skin taking in everything. "No sign of sabotage… yet."

Bel Iblis' mouth turned down slightly. "It's the 'yet' that worries me Huffer. We'll have to keep a close eye and optic sensor on them for the time being."

Bastion

Imperial-class star destroyers flew in parade formation around the planet, all but the running lights dimmed. Traffic around the planet was grounded for the duration of Grand Admiral Pellaeon's funeral and memorial service.

The newly-promoted Captain Myner Devis stood at ramrod attention in the hangar deck of the new flagship, the ISS Right to Rule. He kept his emotions locked inside of a cage, not daring to betray any emotion. Next to him, Commodore Vana Dorja stood at similar attention. "This is… wrong," he finally whispered. "Dad shouldn't be dead… this can't be real."

Vana's eyes glanced at him out of the corner. "It is.. Although I'd give my life to have the Old Man back." She reached out her gloved hand and took Myner's in it. "I'm here for you, my old friend." She glanced over as the funeral procession entered through the aft pressure doors.

One dozen red-robed and black-masked soldiers walked in, beating a precise cadence with drums slung across their chest armor. Each time they stepped, they banged the drums. Behind them, a pristine-white coffin floated on a small repulsorlift engine.

Bludgeon's hollow eyes tracked the coffin as his head remained fixed. His armor plating creaked slightly. "A noble man," he muttered to Myner, standing in front of the Cybertronian.

Myner turned his head and craned his neck in order to look up at Bludgeon. "Yeah, he was." He hesitated before continuing. "Thanks for attending the funeral."

Across the aisle, Revan, Bastila, A'Sharad, Quinlan, Luke and Mara stood. All six wore black cloaks and gloves and their eyes were downcast. "He honored me," Revan muttered. "He honored us all."

The soldiers stopped at the aft cargo ramp of an old-style Lambda -class shuttle. The coffin floated up the ramp and into the ventral cargo hold. The hatch sealed and the shuttle, on auto-pilot, lifted off the deck plating. Force fields sprang up in front of the beings in attendance as the air was pumped out and the hangar bay doors silently slid open.

The shuttle's engines flared and it shot out from the Right to Rule. As soon as it cleared Bastion's gravity well, the hyperdrive kicked in and micro-jumped it into solar orbit. It flared briefly against the sun before disintegrating in a flash of light.

The main part of the hangar repressurized as a force field sprung up. Commodore Tschel walked to the central landing platform and looked out. He crossed his hands behind his back and tilted his chin up. "Today, we celebrate the life of a good man. My mentor, Gilad Pellaeon."

He cleared his throat. "He was stern, but fair. He defended what he believed to be right and knew when the war was over, sparing us more years of fighting and more dead beings. He led us against the Vong as well, responding first when they attacked and led us from inside a bacta tank. And finally, he delayed the attack on Cybertron enough for them to organize a counterattack." He turned his head. "Honor guard, attention!"

Seven stormtroopers snapped from parade rest to attention. They brought their ceremonial rifles to ready.

"Fire."

They turned and fired a blank shot from their rifles. Tschel barked out another command.

"Fire."

They fired seven more rounds. And once more Tschel ordered them to fire. Gilad Pellaeon was sent to the afterlife with full honors befitting him.

The crowd eventually broke up, with Myner feeling lost and alone. Not since his mother died did he feel like this-and he had his father back then to help cope. He turned and walked to the aft doors, barely acknowledging the condolences being handed out to him.

A single word halted him in his tracks.

"Myner!"

He paused and turned, seeing Vana standing there. She walked forward, her normally sharp eyes softer than usual. "Do you need to talk?" she asked, holding out her hand.

The young TIE pilot swallowed and took her hand in his own, staying silent in order not to burst into sobs right at that moment. The two walked off to the aft doors, leaving behind various admirals, generals and politicians.

Bludgeon walked over to the Jedi, his feet clanging off the deck plating and echoing loudly. "We should be going soon."

Revan looked up and the hood of his robe fell down, pooling around his shoulders and neck. "You're right, Bludgeon. The Jade Saber awaits."

Bludgeon hit a button on his lower torso and he began shrinking. All six Jedi marveled as was soon only slightly shorter than the average Vong. He noted their confused looks and his organic-looking face twisted in a smile. "If you want a headache, ask Perceptor to explain the physics behind my little trick."

Revan shook his head as they all walked to the Saber parked in the back. "I've no idea how many laws of physics that little trick of his breaks. It's not even like the subspace storage the other Cybertronians have."

Mara clicked off the security field protecting her favorite ship and the main ramp lowered from the gray-hulled cruiser. She patted her belly and winced slightly. "Did I just feel a twinge?" she asked.

Bastila glanced over and smirked, wincing even more as she felt her child kick. "Wait a few months, Mara. And wouldn't you know from Ben's pregnancy?"

The redhead shrugged as the seven boarded. "That was a pretty rushed time, Bastila. The Vong, as hard as it is to believe, were pushing us farther and farther back. And I wasn't… the most pleasant person to deal with." Her cheeks turned slightly pink at the bad memory.

Mara and Luke walked to the cockpit while everyone else went to the main cabin and strapped in. A'Sharad looked around. "Can't wait to get back to Yavin so I can escort Tahiri and Anakin back to Tatooine. She's looking forward to this formal meeting between Sliven and her boyfriend."

Quinlan smiled as the ship around him shuddered briefly. "I wonder how I'll react when some lady catches Korto's eye. Or the other way around?" He shook his head, his dreadlocks swishing a bit. "I hope Khaleen and I don't scare anyone off."

Bludgeon chuckled, his skull face unnerving even to those who know him. "I don't think you'll have much of a choice in that department, Quinlan." His optics looked over his muscled and tanned arms. "Even at rest, you're still a weapon that hasn't tasted blood yet."

Mara's voice came over the comm. "We've just hit hyperspace, folks. We'll be hitting the Yavin System in a few-" Her voice suddenly stopped.

Luke's voice started up. "… You'll have to excuse Mara. She's just had her first bout of morning sickness and-oh, not good!" There was some scraping noises. "We'll be out of the refresher in a while… hopefully."

Revan's head lowered and he unsuccessfully stifled a laugh. "I have a feeling he and Jacen will have much to talk about in the coming months. And both will be coming to me for advice soon enough."

His wife patted him on the arm as they unbuckled their crash webbing. "And there's no one else better to ask. Except maybe for Han. He and Leia had three, after all. Three great kids, too." She semi-waddled over to a table recessed into the bulkhead and plopped down. "Let's see what's on the menu for tonight…"

Revan glanced over at Bludgeon and his sword. "When we get to Cybertron… any chance of a little duel? I swear I won't use the Force directly on you if you don't grow to your normal size."

Bludgeon started a bit at that. "You and me, Master Jedi? I accept." He half-bowed to him, his armor clicking a bit.

The Jedi Master tilted his head slightly. "And if I win… you finally tell me what it means for you to be called 'Pretender' and what you transform into!"

Bludgeon's deathlike head split in a grin. "Agreed, Revan. And if I win, you become my pupil in Metallikato."

Revan nodded and ignited his lightsaber in a salute.

Bludgeon unsheathed his sword and returned it. "May we both find what we are looking for in this match. You, the answer to your question. And me, a worthy opponent and new student of Metallikato."

Three days later
The Saber emerged from hyperspace and quickly entered parking orbit above Cybertron. Traffic around the metal world had increased tremendously, but it was still somewhat dangerous due to debris from the Battle. Bits and pieces of reformatted Vong ships and even limbs of Sweeps still dotted the sky, even with the massive effort to clear the area.

Mara contacted Iacon. "Iacon, this is the Jade Saber requesting permission to land." She glanced over at Revan in the co-pilot's seat. "You seem a bit… anxious to get down there."

Revan shrugged, the motion limited by the crash webbing. "I'm anxious to see how I'll match up against Bludgeon. I've seen holos of him fighting, and skill-wise, he's about my equal." A grin split his face. "I honestly don't know which of us will win."

A voice came from the speakers. "Saber, you're clear to land at the spaceport in Altihex. Landing instructions will follow shortly."

Mara's eyebrows scrunched at that. "Altihex? Why not the Tagon Heights or Iacon?" She suddenly turned as Bludgeon walked in. "Any reason why we're going there?"

Bludgeon's armored hands gripped the sides of the hatch, taking care not to rip it apart. "I live there," he said. "I had my personal belongings moved from Kaion after the end of fighting and bought a house. I'll take you there after we land."

The Cybertronian left, leaving Revan and Mara. "I wonder what it looks like," she wondered while flying over the metal landscape. One of the massive city-states loomed over the horizon; Altihex, home of observatories and research communities almost without equal in Known Space.

The gray-hulled cruiser touched down at the spaceport and Mara expertly powered down the engines. Outside, three hover platforms were lined up right where the main ramp lowered. Both Jedi unbuckled and exited, Revan leaving last.

A'Sharad and Quinlan went to the first one. "We're going back to Iacon and hitch a ride to Yavin," the Tusken-raised Jedi explained. He hopped on and flipped a few switches on the main control console, powering up the repulsorlift engine.

Quinlan hopped on behind him. "Make sure to film this fight," he said. "I have a feeling it will prove to be most… educational." And with that, the platform took off and shot off, receding into the distance.

Bastila looked over the remaining five. "Bludgeon, can you fly?" she asked, even as Revan helped her onto the closest platform.

In response, the Cybertronian pressed the button on his lower midsection and grew from humanoid-sized to his usual 13 meters tall. His skull face twisted in a grin underneath the helmet and he jumped up, hovering in midair. "Follow me," he said over his shoulder, already twisting in midair and flying off.

Mara and Luke hopped onto the last platform and both platforms took off, their pilots quickly matching Bludgeon's speed and catching up. Mara waved jauntily from the controls, her right hand leaving the safety grip as she waved and grinned.

Within minutes they reached a squat building at the outskirts of Altihex. It was a dull gray and had a single door in front. Bludgeon landed and stepped up to the door. He pressed his hand to a control panel recessed in the wall and the door noiselessly slid open, allowing him to step in and Mara, Luke, Revan and Bastila to fly in.

There were four docking stations for hover platforms, with two unoccupied berths. The slim transports landed and clamps locked at several points, allowing them to exit. Luke glanced around the main foyer as they walked in, the furniture dwarfing them and the walls seeming to stretch out of sight.

There were few decorations on the walls, but those mounted told what needed to be said. Several swords were mounted on one wall, while shelves with other weapons and trophies were opposite. Bludgeon motioned to a small door near the front. "I made sure amenities for organics were installed, so freshen up and refuel before the match, Revan."

The Jedi nodded. "Do the same," he said, entering the comparatively-small room.

Mara glanced up, but looked down at Bludgeon shrank. "I doubt you'd want the living room torn up," she quipped. "So where's the dojo?"

A short laugh came from Bludgeon's vocalizer and he pointed to a door next to a recharge unit at the back. "I doubt at our size, we'll 'tear it up', as you put it." He focused on Revan as he entered the room again. "So, shall we begin?"

Revan walked over and looked the Pretender in the optic unit. "I am," he said, unclipping one of his lightsabers and igniting it. "I reserve the right to use the second one," he said, "if necessary."

Bludgeon nodded. He reached over with his left arm and unhooked the cannon mounted on his right arm. "Very well." He glanced over as Mara walked over. "Hold this," he said, handing it to her.

Mara grabbed the green-plated cannon, noticing how… light it was. "Why is it lighter?" she wondered out loud. She suddenly shook her head. "No, no! I don't want an explanation!"

Bludgeon chuckled as the five eventually entered the dojo. Several weapons-melee, projectile and energy-were mounted on racks along the walls, along with recharge units and repair kits. And in the center was a huge raised platform, stark and uncluttered.

Revan summoned the Force and leapt, clearing the lip and landing on the durasteel. Bludgeon hovered up and landed. "There's a ramp about three meters to your right. Use it for Bastila."

Luke, Mara and Bastila quickly located the incline and walked up, reaching the top of the platform. Bastila looked around the open expanse and shivered slightly.

Revan and Bludgeon stepped away from the group, lightsaber ignited and sword unsheathed. They circled each other, looking for an opening. Finally, Revan stabbed at Bludgeon's midsection. The blow was easily deflected, but Revan swung the plasma blade up and back down for an overhead slash.

Bludgeon dodged back, rolling with the motion and swinging around in a tight circle. He switched hands while his back was to Revan, coming in with a stabbing motion that nearly caught him in the ribs. "I have a monomolecular 'padding' over my blade," he explained in mid-stab. "You won't die, but you'll feel it!"

Revan smirked as he sharply parried the metal blade away, hopping back a few steps. "And mine is on training mode, so you'll feel it too!" He sent forth a series of short thrusts at Bludgeon's midsection as soon as his lightsaber was in position again, forcing him to dodge-and scoring a hit on his armor, blackening it. "Point."

Bludgeon let a sick smile cross his face and he redoubled his attack. He suddenly ducked down, sweeping at Revan's feet. The Jedi hopped up, but was out of position as Bludgeon rolled forward, stabbing his blade up and jabbing Revan in the ribs and causing him to wince. "Point."

Revan clutched at the sore spot and stepped back, finally realizing just how skilled Bludgeon really was. "I guess twelve million years of fighting will sharpen anyone's skills," he said. He unclipped his second lightsaber and ignited it, filling the air with an ethereal humming.

Bludgeon chuckled. "Fourteen million, actually. I'm one of the few who remember the time before the Great War." he brought his sword up to eye level and held it out parallel to the platform. He stepped in, slashing down and knocking Revan's left blade out of position before engaging the right. Revan brought his left blade up to engage Bludgeon, but the Pretender danced to the right, keeping it out of reach.

Revan increased his speed through the Force, quickly bringing his second blade over. In response, Bludgeon's speed shot up, his servos humming with increased power. All three blades danced with one another, sparks shooting off as they struck. Finally, Bludgeon managed to stab his blade at Revan's heart. The Jedi crossed his blades in front and parried it up, but the Pretender managed to wrench his arms to the side, knocking the lightsaber emitters from Revan's hands-and also taking his own blade with them.

The lightsabers and sword clattered to the ground, echoing in the silence. A slow chuckle came from Bludgeon's mouth. "Did we tie?"

Revan laughed and wiped his eyes. "Yes, it does." he brought his arm out and extended his hand. "So, now what?"

Bludgeon clasped Revan's hand and pumped it. "I gain a new student in Metallikato and you see why I'm a 'Pretender'." He stepped back and took the cannon from Mara. "Thank you." With one swift motion, he affixed it to his arm and sheathed his sword. He then pressed the button on his midsection and expanded to normal height. "What you see is a façade, not the real me." He looked down at Revan. "Here I am."

His chest suddenly split open along a seam, running from neck to waist. A bright light shone forth from the hole and then… a smaller Cybertronian crawled out. Bludgeon's skull head tilted back and the entire upper body folded open, allowing him to climb out. "I am Bludgeon," he declared. He was shorter, blockier and with definite alternate mode parts, such as treads on the arms and legs and a turret mounted on his back.

Bludgeon patted the armor. "This is the face I'm most comfortable with. It keeps me safe and allows me to shrink down to your size." He climbed back in and the armor folded back closed.

Revan shook his head. "It's a suit," he declared. "An amazing piece of technology, there. How many more are there?"

Bludgeon shrugged. "I'm not sure, Revan." he patted his chest. "Still, I am the only one known as Bludgeon. There are no others like me."

Luke spoke up, drawing everyone's attention. "And that's a shame and a good thing, Bludgeon."

It was a small patch of ground, green and full of life. A tree from her home-her former home-grew in the center of the 200-meter wide expanse. Lusa sat beneath the protective branches and sighed. "Bludgeon's home," she observed as she glanced to the domicile next to her own home. "I can feel him-and hear him dueling."

Raynar barked out a laugh, then cocked his head to the side as he listened. He used the Force to funnel the sound into his hearing. "Two lightsabers and a sword," he observed. At Lusa's surprised reaction, he shrugged. "Master Talo's taught me a few old techniques from his time."

Lusa chuckled and shifted her hind legs a bit, getting comfortable. Instead of her armor, she wore a simple shirt and bandoleer across her humanoid chest. Her hair even had a few ribbons tied in her hair. Raynar sat down next to her and she grinned. "So, what's to eat?"

The young Knight opened up the wicker basket and set out several containers of food. Delicious smells emanated from the warm food as Raynar unsealed them. He handed a container to Lusa, who dug in. he took a fork and speared a bit of meat from his own container. "Wow, this is good."

Lusa laughed, a musical sound that brought a smile to Raynar's face. "Thanks." She brushed some of her curly hair from her eyes and looked up at the tree. "I received a message from Mother and Father. They… miss me." Her eyes turned down. "I'm not sure if I can go back, though. Too many painful memories of betrayal."

Raynar stood up, walked over and wrapped his arms around her humanoid body in a tight hug. "Whatever you decide, I'll support you and be there for you," he said, his voice somewhat muffled by her thick hair.

A soft sigh came from Lusa. "Thanks, Raynar. I think… I'll go see them. But not now. I've still got to settle in here." She broke the embrace and motioned to her own house behind the patch of grass and tree. "Ravage will be moving in within the week. And he'll be missing Soundwave, Laserbeak, Rumble, Frenzy and the rest of his teammates."

Raynar paused for a moment. "Ravage is moving in?" he asked, his face screwed up in confusion. "Ravage, the Vornskr?"

Lusa paused and her eyes narrowed. For a moment, she appeared to wear her armor and ready her blaster rifle in Raynar's vision. "Yes, the one who saved my life and fought beside me all throughout the counteroffensive. Why?"

The young man shrugged and a sneaky grin split his still-boyish features. "Just checking, Lusa." He thought for a moment and his expression soured somewhat. "HK's not gonna be around, is he?" He held his hand to his forehead and his head darted around quickly.

A short laugh escaped Lusa's mouth. "I don't think so, Raynar. He's off at Yavin IV with Revan and Bastila, from what I hear." A sneaky grin crossed her face. "So he can pop in at any time, actually!"

A sigh escaped Raynar's mouth and he dropped back down to the grass. "Oh, how… nice," he muttered. "Just make sure Ravage is around when HK is, all right?"

A sudden growl from the shadows almost sent Raynar into orbit. "I'll only charge minimal amounts for bodyguard duties," Ravage said, emerging from out of nowhere and stalking over to Lusa. His leg servos hummed as he circled around several times before settling down next to her. His external audio pickups waggled back and forth a bit as he settled down.

Raynar steadied his breathing before sitting down. "Thanks, Ravage." He looked over to Lusa. "I'll be around a lot more, now that the Bornaryn Trade Fleet's opening up a port here at the Tagon Heights." He dug his boot into the dirt. "I made sure it was set up at the last meeting…"

Lusa smiled and rose to her feet. She trotted over and knelt down, hugging Raynar tightly. "Thanks," she said. "I'd get lonely without my old friends. No offense, Ravage."

A low chuckle came from Ravage's vocalizer. "None taken."

The Tagon Heights
Ironhide scratched his head, producing a low-pitched screech as he pondered the four-legged vehicle. "This' is the main land vehicle the Imperial Army uses?" he asked, confusion in his voice.

Fellow Cybertronians Jazz, Skywarp and Ruckus stood in a semi-circle around the dented and slightly-rusted warrior. "Sure is," Jazz said, the visor covering his optics flashing. "An all-terrain armored transport, or AT-AT." He leaned over and examined the legs, scanning them. "Pretty wobbly, wouldn't you say?"

Skywarp placed his hands on his hips ands shifted his stance, his internal gyroscope keeping him steady. "One good push and it'll topple over," he observed. "And it's got more blind spots than Starscream or Prowl for practical jokes. And I should know."

Ruckus walked around it, his servos twitching slightly. His torso and shoulder-mounted missile launchers were tan-colored, while violet armor covered his limbs. "What a piece of slagging junk!" he shouted, his arms waving a bit. "If this is the height of their technology, it's a-"

"Will you stop shouting?" Skywarp yelled, oblivious to the irony. "Honest to Primus, Ruckus. Can't you hear yourself, or are your audio pickups burnt out from your voice?"

Jazz stifled a chuckle. "So you were the one we could pick up ten kilometers away during the Great War." He shook his head. "Glad those are just memory files nowadays."

Ironhide nodded, then turned his optics back to the AT-AT. He nudged it with his hand, but expelled gas when it teetered a bit. "Stop it!" he shouted. "If this thing gets destroyed, Bastion will have my chassis!"

Jazz placed one hand on the main body and another on the head-like control cabin, steadying it. "You don't know your own strength," he quipped. "Why'd they send this here anyway?"

The old warrior shrugged, his shoulder armor bobbing a bit. "I think they want to see if we can improve it in any way." A screen popped open in his visual range and a list scrolled down-a long list. "I'm not even sure how to organize it properly…"

His head suddenly popped up as a smaller Cybertronian walked over. His IFF transponder quickly identified his name and function. "Hello… Armorhide. What can I do for you?"

A Cybertronian with a stocky, blue-and gray armored body with wheels mounted on his arms and translucent kneecaps walked up. His chest plate resembled the front end of a cargo hauler, split along the front. "Sorry, sir. I've been ordered to remote-pilot this vehicle to a cargo ship at landing pad 324."

Skywarp looked him over. "You're from after the Great War," he said. It wasn't a question.

Armorhide turned his head and focused on the seeker. "That's right! I was sparked by Vector Sigma a standard week ago. This is my first job outside of Primary Programming!" He held up his right arm and a small panel opened up. Almost immediately, the AT-AT lurched to life and began ambling behind Armorhide as he walked slowly next to it.

Ironhide watched him go, an almost wistful look on his face. "No memory of the Great War besides that learned in Primary Programming. I never thought I'd function long enough to see the cycle."

Skywarp tracked the young one as he walked off. "Neither did I, Ironhide. I'm glad, and now I almost feel all of my fifteen million years. Do you feel your seventeen million?"

Jazz, Ruckus and Ironhide all focused their optics on the prankster and jokester. "Shut up, Skywarp!"

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