Interlude 1-1: The Road to Vacuo

"~On the road again! I just can't wait to get on the road again!~"

"Uh, Mister Hound, I think we left the road a mile back," pointed out Spike Witwicky from the passenger seat of the Autobot's green VAMP alt-mode. Dressed in a desert cloak and work clothes, he would occasionally reach up his hand to make sure he was still wearing his hard hat.

The VAMP - short for Vehicle: Attack/Multi-Purpose - was an Atlesian four-wheeled light ground car that had only entered the marketplace within the last few years. Still, despite its short service life, its presence in several major motion pictures had led to its adoption by many village militias across Remnant, with several variants being manufactured for the civilian market as well. Hound had made his alt-mode based off some of the Home Guard vehicles around Vale, but the laser cannon on his back was definitely something that was vanishingly rare outside Atlas.

"Don't worry, Spike," said Hound as he cleared another sand dune. "I drove these roads before."

"Yeah, once, but I've been down them dozens of times; that's why I'm your guide, after all," pointed out Spike.

"Eh, maybe you're right," admitted Hound as he rolled to a stop atop a tall sand dune.

Spike got out, and Hound transformed into his bot mode as the pair began to look around.

"I swear, every sand dune here is moving around more than a scraplet on a hot tin roof," Hound commented as he looked out across the shifting sands. "Do you have any idea how hard it makes mapping this place? There's even enough metals in the sand to screw with my internal compass."

"It's not so bad, once you learn the tempo and learn how to navigate by the stars," was Spike's reply.

Hound looked up at the cloudless and starless daytime sky. "Well, maybe that'll be useful if we wait long enough."

"You never know, Hound. The desert's always changing," said Spike as he looked down the embankment. "Why, when we rolled up, we didn't see a darn thing, but now there's a big green rock at the bottom of the dune."

Hound looked down, and his optics caught sight of the shiny green stone. They widened ever so slightly. "That's no stone; it's glass."

"'Glass'?" echoed Spike as he slid down the dune to get a better look at it.

The green Autobot slid down after him, and together, the two had quickly uncovered the object. It was pale green and smoothed down by the sands, but still identifiable. Well, mostly identifiable.

"I stand corrected," said Hound. "This isn't just glass; it's a lump of trinitite. Looks to be a few hundred pounds."

"What's 'trinitite'?" Spike asked.

"A form of glass," Hound explained. "But trinitite is formed as a side effect of high-energy weapons, like atomics or blasters."

Spike's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you think it could be the Decepticons?"

"If I didn't, I think I'd need my processors checked," joked Hound before transforming back into his alt-mode. "Come on, make sure that thing is secured on the back, and let's hightail it back to the Ark. They're going to want to see this."

"Well, what do you know," commented Beachcomber some time later as he stood in his makeshift lab/cargo bay and examined the pale green lump in a microscope with several bots about. "You were right, Hound. This was definitely made by a high heat weapon. A very high heat weapon."

"So does that mean the Decepticons are in Vacuo?" asked Spike worriedly.

"We already guessed at that from the information taken by Sunfire from the SDC's Vale Headquarters," remarked Optimus Prime. "Still, much of our information is on the locations of Decepticon facilities in northern Sanus. Perhaps a scouting mission is in order?"

"Should I recall the Aerialbots?" asked Ironhide.

Optimus shook his head. "No, Ironhide, I think a ground mission would be best here. I've already got a team in mind for this."

"Who do you have in mind, sir?" inquired Prowl.

"You, for starters," said the Autobot leader with a focused look at the security bot. "Prowl, I want you to lead Beachcomber, Ironhide, Cliffjumper, and Hound back to Vacuo. Investigate and report back in three weeks if you don't find any sign of the Decepticons."

"Understood, sir," Prowl saluted.

"I'm not in command, for once? Happy rotations," quiped Ironhide with a clenched fist and a smile.

Beachcomber shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, Optimus, why do you need me on this mission? I mean, the analysis I have running can complete itself, but…"

"You're along in case they need any on-site analysis," explained Optimus. "No fighting necessary."

"Unless you count having to bring Cliffjumper along," Ironhide observed dryly.

"Cliffjumper could use a chance to stretch his actuators," said Optimus, "and he's got a knack for finding Decepticons."

"I'll talk to him about joining up," allowed Prowl.

"Good! Then it looks like Team Peach is a go!" cheered Hound.

Ironhide gave the green bot an odd look. "Team Peach?"

"Yeah, Peach! P.B.I.C.H. Peach," ellucidated Hound.

"That's not how you spell 'peach,'" pointed out Prowl.

"Hey, when in Vale, do as the Valish do," said Hound.

It was at that moment that Spike spoke up again. "Excuse me, Optimus? What do you need me to do?"

"You need not do anything, Spike," said Optimus compassionately. "We Autobots can take care of the situation. We can provide you transport back to Vacuo or lodging here for now. Either way, you don't have to fight if you don't want to."

"But I do," insisted Spike stridently. "Those Decepticons hurt my friends and probably want to do worse to everyone else. Besides, I'm worried they might get lost."

"HA!" Ironhide barked out. "You got lost, Hound? When was the last time that happened?"

"Laugh it up, old man, but let's see what tune you're singing when you can't even go an astrosecond without the ground changing shape," countered Hound. "At least on Cybertron, the landmarks were still recognizable, even if they didn't always stay in the same place."

"Very well then," allowed Optimus, looking at the small human. "Good luck on the mission, Team Peaches."

"'Peaches'?" groaned Ironhide. "Of all the…"

"Told you it would catch on," cheered Hound.

The golden eagle fluffed his feathers, staring out at the desert from his perch atop the home he'd made for himself here. Divebomb found himself surprisingly content here, actually. Compared to his high-rise back on Cybertron, this was a definite step down - and not just literally - but it had a certain homey charm to it that he appreciated. This certainly wasn't where he'd expected to be when he and the other Predacons had set out in search of the Nemesis... but then again, they hadn't exactly expected their search to end with an exploding moon crashing the Darksyde, either.

"Sand. Sand. Sand," he muttered to himself, scanning the horizon. His brow rose in something vaguely resembling excitement, and his optics zoomed in. "Ooh! One of those giant sand turtles! They're supposed to be good luck. Maybe we'll see something other than sand today."

"Divebomb, report."

"Sand," was his dry - Heh - reply. "Saw one of those sand turtles, but other than that, Razorclaw, there's nothing out there but the shifting dunes beneath a merciless star."

A few minutes later, Divebomb heard the clanking of metal on metal, and he twisted his head to peer over his shoulder, only to see the Predacon leader - his leader - clamber up top via the ladder he'd installed on the side. Not everyone could fly, after all.

"If you've started waxing poetic, you've been out here too long," Razorclaw declared. "I'll take over watch for now. Check on the others."

Divebomb bobbed his head in agreement and fluttered his wings before diving off his perch. Flying down was a heck of a lot easier than trying to maneuver around Razorclaw to the ladder, after all. They'd built their outpost in the tallest of this network of mesas, with their disguised communications tower on top. His own apartment - similarly disguised - was perched atop even that, giving them a commanding view of the surrounding desert, including a key section of the route between northern and western Sanus, and it all looked like an unusually tall rock formation.

Divebomb swooped up, enjoying the flight, and noted Razorclaw lying down comfortably - almost lazily - in his beast mode, gazing out across the desert like a statue. Once he got some additional altitude, he lived up - down? - to his name, letting himself hurtle to the ground before spreading his wings to bring him to a gentle landing on the floor of the canyon.

Transforming from beast mode to bot mode, he sauntered up to the ground-level entrance; the other Predacons had little appreciation for the glories of high altitude, so he fully expected to find them on the first few levels of the outpost, which, for security reasons, were still several defensible flights of stairs up.

The first one he saw was Rampage, seated on an oversized crate and gazing at some entertainment feed from the CCT network, some sort of cooking show. As expected. Divebomb had no desire to provoke the other Predacon's sometimes unpredictable nature, so he moved on. Rampage was good in a fight, but he grew bored easily, and his mercurial moods were difficult to deal with if he didn't have something to keep him entertained.

Divebomb found Headstrong in one of the side rooms, staring at some technical manual.

"You okay in there, Headstrong?" he asked tentatively.

"I'm fine," the other Predacon replied, shaking his head clear and blinking. He looked back down at the technical manual. His face twisted in confusion, and he began flipping through the pages again. "Scrap. Where was I?"

"I'll… leave you to it, then," Divebomb said, backing out slowly. Somewhere along the line, Headstrong had decided they needed a backup engineer in case anything happened to Tantrum - or they needed one when Tantrum was in one of his moods - and despite his general lack of talent in the area - and overall intelligence - he was still plugging away at it. Shaking his head, Divebomb kept going.

It took him some time to find Tantrum. The team's engineer was tinkering away at one of the access panels. For all his temper problems, Tantrum was an amazing engineer… unless he got steamed, and unless Headstrong received a processor upgrade, he was the only one really qualified.

Divebomb rapped his knuckles gently on the door. No need to spook the guy.

"Yes?" Tantrum asked, swiveling his head around, optics gazing sedately at Divebomb.

"Razorclaw sent me to check up on everyone," explained Divebomb. "Whatcha working on? Anything we need to worry about?"

Tantrum shook his head. "Nothing like that. Just some more routine maintenance." He gestured at the access panel. "Some of the Atlesian-sourced components are having trouble with the local environment."

"Well, it is Vacuo," Divebomb pointed out.

"I'm well aware of that, Divebomb. Not complaining, though. It keeps me focused."

That was the other reason Tantrum had been their ship's engineer. Working monotonous maintenance tasks - of which there was an endless supply on a small ship like the Darksyde - seemed to help him stay calm and keep from living up to his name. Where the monotony would frustrate most, it instead calmed Tantrum down.

"Alert," Razorclaw's voice calmly echoed over the PA system. "There's a convoy coming in, and it's not one of ours."

"Those mesas on the horizon look like a good place to hide out. Let's check 'em out," ordered Prowl as he shifted direction, and the plume of sand being kicked up by his wheels fishtailed.

"Looks like it'll take us a while to reach them," said Spike from his position in the passenger seat of Ironhide's alt-mode.

"Great, more driving through the desert," complained the old bot.

"It's not that bad, is it?" asked the boy, even as he held on a little tighter.

"Spike, yer reminding me too much of Sunfire right now," complained Ironhide. "Always with the whole 'planet infested with monsters is perfectly normal' thing."

"Well, it is," pointed out Spike. "Who was she, though? I heard that she basically freed everyone the Decepticons had enslaved single-handedly, and then Optimus was going on about how she stole a bunch of information from the SDC. She seems like quite the character."

"She sure is," Ironhide replied. "Saw some people in danger and didn't hesitate ta jump in with both feet. 'Course, it's not like she did all that alone."

"She had Bumblebee, and the Aerialbots helped out a lot too, especially Air Raid," chimed in Beachcomber.

"Bumblebee and the Aerialbots?" Spike repeated thoughtfully. "So did she have a ground vehicle for an alt-mode, an airship, or was she a triple-changer?"

"Oh, she didn't have an alt-mode at all," said Hound cheekily. "At least none that I saw."

"What?!" Spike gaped. "How was she able to remain hidden then?"

"Easy," said Ironhide. "Sunfire's from Remnant, just like you."

"...Huh, neat," said Spike after a moment of thought. "How come I didn't see her before, then?"

"She's on special assignment," explained Ironhide.

"You mean she couldn't cut it," said Cliffjumper.

"I mean that Prime gave her an order, and she followed it," insisted Ironhide.

"Followed orders to guard some well armed human in the middle of a bunch of other well armed humans. Cushiest job around, and everyone knows it," scoffed Cliffjumper.

"Give her a break, Cliffjumper," put in Prowl. "She lost her partner that night."

"I thought Bumblebee was her partner?" asked Spike as they leapt off a particularly large dune. "At least, that's what I was told, back when I first heard about her."

"He is, usually, but she had another partner on special missions. They argued a lot, but they were still pretty close," Ironhide explained quietly.

"She lost her partner because he was a half-measure, a stinkin' coward who couldn't make hard choices and do what needed to be done," Cliffjumper continued as they hit the ground.

A pit formed in Spike's gut as he realized Cliffjumper was almost certainly insulting the dead. "This is getting way too awkward," he mumbled.

They let the subject quietly drop as they continued on. With their destination in sight the whole time, navigation wasn't an issue, though Spike had to caution them a few times on over- or underestimating the distance. The desert sun liked to play tricks with the light that way..

Finally, they arrived at the edge of the mesa network, the rock formations towering high above them.

"Looks like we'd better handle this on foot," Prowl observed as he transformed. Spike climbed out of Ironhide, and the rest of the Autobots also shifted to bot mode.

Prowl looked over the team. "We'll split up by pairs. Hound, Cliffjumper, you go left. Ironhide, Beachcomber, you go right. Spike and I will go down the middle. Mark anything unusual, but don't investigate yet. We'll all steer toward the center to meet up ahead and-"

"DECEPTICON!" Cliffjumper's voice rang out as he suddenly began firing. The Autobots shifted, searching their surroundings for enemies, while Spike looked over at where he was shooting, a familiar shape disappearing beneath the sand.

"Wait, hold up!" Spike called. "That's not a Decepticon!"

"That sure didn't look like a Grimm," Cliffjumper retorted.

"It's not a Grimm," Spike explained. "It's just an eastern mole crab. They can be dangerous, but they'll usually leave you alone if you don't bother them."

"You mean that thing was organic?" the red Autobot sputtered. "It was as big as I am!"

"Yeah," Spike agreed. "Pretty small for a mole crab, actually. Probably only a few summers old."

"This- this planet is insane," Cliffjumper grumbled, throwing his hands up and stalking off. "C'mon, Hound. Let's go before something else tries to eat us."

From a vantage point above, a lion gazed down on his prey. Divide and conquer, he thought, satisfied.

Prowl had picked up Spike and placed him on his shoulder, giving him a better view as they cautiously moved through the valley formed by the two nearest mesas.

"So, do you remember a time before the war?" asked the human out of the blue.

Prowl turned his head enough to glance at him curiously.

Spike shrugged. "I asked Hound, and he said he couldn't. Asked Ironhide, and he just said it was complicated, so I dropped it."

Prowl nodded and went back to focusing on their surroundings. "Understandable, considering Ironhide's… history. It's a bit of a touchy subject, and one he's not too proud of."

Spike nodded. "I get ya. I won't ask him about it then. Same with you?"

Prowl shook his head slightly. "No. Well, yes, but… it was a happier time. For me, at least. I worked with CySec - the Cybertron Security Force - so I knew even back then, things weren't great for everyone. But things were getting better, with firebrands in the higher castes like Orion Pax working to reform things. Or at least, I'd thought so, at the time."

"Didn't turn out that way?" asked Spike.

"The war started, didn't it?" asked Prowl rhetorically. "I guess things weren't changing fast enough. When things really started falling apart, with the central government outnumbered three to one by warlords and even the Primes splintering off and fighting among themselves, me and my partner made tracks. Traveled for a bit, and then found out the Autobots were on the field. Thought someone had finally made Orion Pax's dream a reality, but... well, we found out how bad things really were after we signed on."

"The Autobots? Bad? I thought you guys were supposed to be paragons," commented Spike in surprise.

"We're people, same as you. More to the point, the leadership before Optimus took over was a bit..." Prowl trailed off as he struggled to find the words.

"Blisteringly corrupt?" offered Spike.

"Not all of them, but the competent ones had an unfortunate habit of dying far too quickly," explained Prowl. "You may not believe it, kid, but you've got it pretty good right now on Remnant."

"Hey, cheer up, Prowl. I'm sure things'll all work out in the end," said Spike with an infectious smile.

The Autobot couldn't help but return the grin. "What do you think's been keeping me going all these megacycles?"

"Hmm," Spike mused as Prowl came to stop at the intersection to wait for the other two teams. Prowl had a point. They'd been fighting that war for millions of years. If they were going to lose heart - did Cybertronians have hearts? - they had had plenty of time to do so already. He glanced back over to Prowl's face, then his eyes widened.

A mole crab had somehow crept up on them and was standing stock still. That was… definitely peculiar behavior for a mole crab. What in the world…? he wondered as it drew back its right pincer...

"Get down!"

Prowl didn't hesitate, obeying the warning and dropping to the sandy ground. Spike leaped free, tucking into a roll as he hit the ground, while Prowl rolled the other way.

The mole crab focused in on Prowl, snapping at him with its pincers as the Autobot crab-walked backwards, trying to get away.

"I thought you said they were peaceful!" Prowl protested.

"'Usually'!" Spike corrected. "They'll usually leave you alone! They're attracted to vibrations in the ground! Stop moving!"

"You couldn't have mentioned that earlier?!"

Spike wasn't idle, either. Unhooking the large-bore double-barreled shotgun he had slung off his back, he brought the oversized dust-gun up, braced, and let loose with both barrels.

The mole crab staggered sideways from the shot. The noise should have bothered it and, combined with the two blasts of earth dust, should have driven it off. Instead, it shifted. No, it transformed.

"Aw, hell," Prowl muttered as he climbed to his feet, "Cliffjumper was right. We're never gonna hear the end of this."

"Hello, Autobot," the Decepticon said. "How kind of you to drop by for lunch."

Prowl quirked an eyebrow. "Glad you think so. Was thinking crab. What about you?"

"Well, I was thinking of a light energon stew, followed by… hey!"

At that, the Decepticon charged, sword in hand. The blade was a vicious-looking affair, studded with irregular spikes and serrations that aesthetically mimicked his mole crab alt-mode's shell. Prowl backed away and drew a pair of tonfas from concealed compartments on his back, bringing them up in a cross-guard to catch the crab Decepticon's downward strike.

"Rampage is going on a rampage!" the Decepticon boasted as he began lashing out with his sword at a furious pace, eyes glowing wildly.

Prowl was forced back as he parried the incoming blows. He ducked under one wild swing and surged forward, shoulder-checking Rampage. The momentum of the duel shifted as Prowl brought one tonfa - now crackling with blue lightning - forward and thrust it into Rampage's side. The Decepticon froze briefly, stunned as electricity coursed through his systems.

There was a tremendous blast, and Rampage was sent spinning off onto the ground. From their paths came the rest of the Autobots with ferocious beasts hot on their tails. It was the gun of the old red truck that was smoking though.

"Thanks fer the setup, Prowl," Ironhide said as he ran onto the scene.

"More Decepticons?" asked Cliffjumper rhetorically as he drove into the intersection. "Well, remember, you mess with the bull, you get the horns!"

"Finally, something I can agree with you Autobots about!" cried out the big black bull chasing after Beachcomber. It sprung into the air and transformed, even as Cliffjumper did the same to meet it. The two collided in mid-air and clashed in a grappling battle of servos and kinetic maneuvers that saw them tumbling to the ground.

One of the Decepticon beasts, a rhinoceros, transformed and faced off against Hound, only to find himself surrounded by copies of the green Autobot scout. "What the-?" the Decepticon muttered, his head whipping around from one to the other.

He shook his head. Okay. He could do this. One of them had to be the real one. He charged one, his sword passing through it harmlessly, and he began working his way around, trying to ignore the incoming blasts that struck him from various angles. He didn't want to lose track of which ones he'd already disqualified.

Outside the ring of holographic copies, Hound frowned as he repositioned, firing again and again. This Decepticon clearly wasn't very bright, but he was tough, tenacious, and methodical.

From the sky came a shriek like an eagle, terrifying and deafening in its passing. Beachcomber dove for cover and just barely avoided being blown apart by a booming bomb blast. The culprit transformed and showed himself as a black-winged Decepticon.

"These Autobots have got nothing on us!"

"Don't get cocky, Divebomb!" ordered the deep, smooth voice of a lion.

The big cat shifted, and soon transformed into a proud Decepticon warrior wielding a large sword that glinted in the sunlight. He leapt forward towards the leader of the Autobot unit, or at least who he perceived to be the leader. He did not guess wrong.

Prowl reengaged his tonfas and brought his right up to parry the downward sword strike of the attacking lion-themed Decepticon.

"Not bad," he complimented as he jumped back. "Tell me, Autobot, what is your name?"

"Prowl," said the security bot.

"Hmpf, Razorclaw," replied the leoine Decepticon.

"You know," said Prowl, "there's no way you can beat me with just a sword when I have a blaster."

"Depends on the sword now, doesn't it?" asked Razorclaw rhetorically. "Predacons! Form Predaking!"

"Autobots! Scatter!" the order from Prowl came automatically.

Spike didn't wait to see what would happen; he just ran for Hound even as he was transforming into his vehicle mode. He leapt into the VAMP and fired his weapon once more at the Decepticons even as they drove away. What he saw though... it made him freeze.

The group of Decepticons was changing yet again, forming into a massive monstrous machine of metal and madness. They became the body parts of this terrifying chimera and let out a harrowing roar. The Autobots lanced out through the canyons away from the enormous winged warrior, all save one.

"Come on, Decepti-chumps! Show me what you got!" shouted Cliffjumper as he fired his blaster at the titanic taxidermic terror.

His shots bounced off the fused aura of the combiner, and Predaking looked down on him.

"You are brave," said the Decepticon. "However, your sense of tactics leaves much to be desired."

Predaking hefted his sword and swung it in a gigantic arc that swept through the pass. Rocks and cliffs were hewn apart, and a great clamor was stirred up. Remarkably, impossibly, the red sports car alt-mode of Cliffjumper leapt out from the cascade, scuffed and dusty but otherwise unharmed.

"That the best you got?!" the Autobot shouted out.

"Ha! The hunt is on!" Predaking bellowed and rushed off after the red Autobot with thunderous steps that rocked the mesas around them with booming quakes. When Predaking had judged the distance to be right, twin blasters flipped down over his shoulders and fired bright purple beams of death and destruction which tore open the ground and sent shards of stone splintering like shrapnel. Cliffjumper juked and swerved in a desperate attempt to dodge one shot after the other, somehow barely staying ahead of the curve.

Things are definitely getting a little rocky, Cliffjumper thought as he drove and dodged through the canyons formed by the collection of mesas.

"Come on, little Autobot," taunted Predaking. "If you can't make this interesting, then at least accept your fate."

That Decepticon can think anything he wants. It's not over yet! resolved the red Autobot.

It was then that he saw that they were approaching a large overhang between two mesas. It was large enough that it was almost a tunnel. In happier times, it might have even been a tourist attraction, a landmark, even a site of great national pride for the people of Vacuo. Cliffjumper beheld it, though, and saw only an opportunity.

Yes! I can win this! he thought, and then he said aloud. "What's the matter, Decepti-chumps? Can't hit anything without using that boat paddle of yours?"

"Oh, you're quipping now?" commented Predaking.

"I'm not quipping; I'm mocking," corrected Cliffjumper before laying on the boost.

There was an explosion of blue, and Cliffjumper leapt up such that he was now driving along the side of the mesa on his left. He continued speeding up even as the natural bridge was approaching. Then, suddenly, when it came, he was rolling at incredible speed along the roof. He hit the edge of the overhang and flew off into the air to transform mid-fall and bring his blaster up.

Only got one chance, he thought even as he was continuing to fall and Predaking was running under the overhang.

He fired: once, twice, thrice. He hit the ground. He fired again: once, twice. Each of his shots hit a different part of the overhang, seemingly doing no damage at all.

"So long, Decepticon," Cliffjumper muttered as he pulled the trigger and sent out a bright blue line of white just as the combiner was fully beneath the overpass.

The rocks rumbled, and then in the blink of an eye, the natural bridge and both the mesas besides it collapsed. Predaking roared, and with one fell swing of his massive sword, he cleaved through many of the falling rocks. It was too little too late, though, and he was soon consumed by the avalanche.

Without preamble, the canyon soon found itself engulfed in silence.

"Good riddance," said Cliffjumper to the pile of stones. "That's the last we'll be seeing of him."

"Wowzers, just look at all this energon!" commented Spike as he looked into the gigantic, and very nicely furnished, pantry of the Decepticon base.

"Well, will you look at that," said Beachcomber appreciatively. "Nice job, Spike."

"Stuff's easy to find if you know where to look," said the human as he turned his attention to the rest of the base.

Immediately visible was Ironhide, who was playing around with the giant remote connected to the equally giant television screen. "Over a thousand channels, and nothing's on. How?! I thought we left this kind of slobbery back on Cybertron! ...Okay, how did they get Menagerie Message Media on here?"

"Problem, Ironhide?" asked Spike as he walked over to the big red Autobot.

"Not anymore," he replied. "Got no problems at all about blowing this decadent abode sky high."

"It will probably be more of an implosion," said Prowl as he walked out into the living room. "Couldn't get more data than the locations of a few routes through this outpost's patrol area. Hopefully, we'll be able to get some usable locations from that, but they don't call Vacuo a good place to get lost in for nothing."

"It is very good at that," admitted Spike.

Prowl looked down at the little human. "Have you seen or heard from Cliffjumper?"

Spike shook his head, but it was at that moment that a great clamor could be heard from the stairs. The door was flung open, and there stood the Autobot in question. He looked drained.

"Woo, that's a lot of stairs," complained Cliffjumper. "Sorry I'm late, but I had to find a way around the mess I made. Predaking's dead, though, so happy days there. What's going on up here?"

"Found some energon," said Beachcomber cheerfully as he handed one of the pink cubes to Cliffjumper.

"Oh, nice!" said the little Autobot as he took the cube appreciatively.

While he was clearly happy, though, the team's leader was not.

"What the scrap were you thinking, Cliffjumper?" Prowl demanded, optics glowing with fury. "You disobeyed orders! You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"What are you complaining about?" the red Autobot scoffed. "I got the job done, didn't I?"

"This time," Prowl growled.

"This time and every time."

"Keep this up, Cliffjumper, and one day, your luck's going to run out, and you or someone else is going to die for it."

"Plenty of Decepticons have already died for it," Cliffjumper sneered.

"This is not the time for jokes!" Prowl snapped.

"The only joke here is you!" Cliffjumper retorted, jabbing a finger at the former CySec bot while the other hand held onto the cube. "We've gotta be willing to take chances and make sacrifices if we're gonna win this war. You used to understand that, Prowl. What the scrap happened to you? Ever since-"

"Shut. Up," Prowl interrupted, his voice low. "You don't get to talk about that."

The smaller Autobot glowered, then spun on his heel. "Slag off, Prowl! It think it's pretty clear I get better results working on my own. Tell Optimus I'll keep in touch." With that, he took off running and dove into his alt-mode, smashing through the nearby window in the process and taking the cube with him.

Beachcomber ran over to the window and looked down. "Well I'll be, Cliff actually survived that, and he's driving away."

Prowl sighed in disappointment even as he went to look at Ironhide. The old bot just shook his head. Optimus was not going to be pleased by this.

Some time later, the remaining members of the away team were all standing before Optimus Prime once more.

"I apologize, sir," offered Prowl, having just recounted the mission.

Optimus shook his head. "No need. A Decepticon outpost was destroyed, a small stock of energon was procured, and we've secured information on the network the Decepticons have been using to transport energon. You completed your mission; nothing more could ever be asked."

"Sir," began Prowl, "we lost Cliffjumper. Literally. We have no idea where he is now."

"He'll show up again in his own time. This isn't the first time he's gone off on his own, and it won't be the last," Optimus assured him. "Now, Spike, what are your plans now?"

The human, standing remarkably straight at attention, shrugged. "Don't know, Optimus. Was hoping to see some of Vale, but I figure I better get back to Vacuo eventually. Before I left the oil fields, they were talking about putting together a new militia to defend against the Decepticons and SDC, and being a liaison with them sounds like pretty good work."

"A new militia?" asked Ironhide.

"Yeah," replied Spike. "They even got a catchy name. They were talkin' about calling themselves the Oktober Guard."

"Hey, I'd be willing to help out with that," offered Hound.

Optimus smiled. "Sounds like there's some discussion still to be had, but why don't we break for now? Unless there's something else, that is."

Beachcomber raised his hand. "There is, sir. I had an analysis running on that chunk of glass while we were away. It finally finished, and it revealed something very interesting, something very disturbing."

"Let's hear the interesting news first," said Prime.

"Well, that's just it, Optimus. They're one and the same," explained Beachcomber. "The sample was definitely made by a blaster, a really big one, maybe a shipboard one… and it's nearly a hundred million years old."

Ironhide blinked. "What?"

Beachcomber continued. "That means that either we've been asleep for far longer than any of us thought, or we're not the first aliens to come to Remnant."

"But if it wasn't you guys, then who?" asked Spike curiously.

The question hung in the air, unanswered.

Days prior, after the Autobots had left the site of the battle, the stone pile the Predacons were buried under shifted. Rocks tumbled down to the ground. Then suddenly, shockingly, a single pincered hand shot out into the evening air.

Momentarily, Rampage emerged fully from beneath the rubble. "Mole crabs rule!" he coughed out with a single pincer raised to the sky.

In short order, his fellow Predacons scrambled out themselves, and they took stock of their situation.

"My pad!" Divebomb cried, looking out to the horizon where a familiar spire was a fair bit shorter and smokier than normal.

"Easy there, Divebomb, it'll be all right," said Tantrum somewhat soothingly.

"Oh, come off it, you big oaf. Do you have any idea what it's like to be this angry?!" shouted the winged warrior.

Tantrum gave Divebomb a flat look before turning to Headstrong. "I think the fall knocked a few bolts loose."

"I agree. We'll have to amputate; it's the only way," nodded Headstrong sagely.

Before Divebomb could fire off a rejoinder, Razorclaw interrupted. "Easy, everyone. Save that energy for the walk back. After all, command's going to need to hear about this."

They all shuddered at that.

The cloaked figure lowered her binoculars as she looked down across the dunes at the mesa collection, watching the Predacons as they trudged away to the northeast.

"Here? After all these megacycles?"

Author's Note (Cyclone):

So, this interlude really gave us some trouble. As previously established, we suck at fight scenes, and this interlude was written on a bit of a time crunch. It was a bit of a late addition to the line-up, but we had to make sure to "advertise the new toys." ;) Fortunately, we got an early look at some of the "toy prototypes" (i.e., fanart), which helped us get this written out and kept us from having a G1 Combaticon situation with Rampage where the character models bore almost no resemblance to the toys.

Author's Note (Cody MacArthur Fett):

It shames me to admit this, but we did end up putting an explanation for Spike's presence in the chapter. The proper way to do things would be to have him appear with no explanation as to how he appeared, as it was in season 2 of The Transformers with many Autobots. I hope you guys can forgive us for this slight.

Also, this was without a doubt the hardest chapter of the story so far to write. Shout out to Nobunagatron for basically saving this thing in the nick of time. I don't know if he knows that.