Chapter Three
"Any progress?"
"Yes, Megatron," Scrapper confirmed, consulting several data pads strewn in front of him and his fellow Constructicons. "We have come up with several possibilities to restore your original body shell. To reconstruct you entirely would require precious resources, which would drain our newly acquired stockpiles. There are several radical and risky alternatives, and naturally we have selected the least threatening option." He held out a pad with the information in question. "There is something called a 'well of transformation' on the planet of Talara that has the ability to change a being's molecular structure. Once the subject is immersed in its waters, he only has to imagine a form, and his molecules will arrange themselves into that form. I hope this meets with your expectations."
"Talara?" Megatron said, perplexed. "Wasn't that under control of the Decepticon Empire at one point? Yes, I remember, that insufferable Deceptitran was weak and the planet was lost to us. So that was how the natives were able to defeat us!"
"Indeed," Hook drawled in his cultivated tones. "This is surely your best chance to regain your original form, Megatron. There is very little risk involved. If it fails, you are no worse off than before."
"Agreed," Megatron said, a grin spreading across his face. He activated his communicator. "Bridge! Set course for Talara. The well of transformation awaits!"
The planet was exactly as he remembered it. Just another mudball like Earth. He ignored the natives scurrying around him. The foolish Autobots actually believed that these beings were Transformers, merely because the water of this planet had metamorphic properties that allowed them to change form. Absolute rubbish!
"This way, Boss!" Rumble cried, indicating the obscured entrance to a cave.
"Excellent!" Megatron chuckled, stepping through the cave entrance and into a cavern, water lapping at its edges. The well of transformation. He eyed the liquid a bit warily – he had seen it work on the Talaracons, and on that insufferable Seaspray, but would it work for him? Was it true that he merely had to think of his original form, and it would be granted?
"Careful, Boss," Rumble warned. "Those fish-faces tricked me into thinking of a tree, and I turned into one! Don't let yourself get distracted, or Primus knows what ya might turn into!"
"Never fear. A pool of water cannot harm me!" the proud Decepticon boasted, squashing the flutter of nerves firmly. He waded into the well, then sank down slowly until he was lying on the pool bottom. Then he began the procedure outlined very carefully by Soundwave: first he pictured the endoskeleton, then his internal schematics, and then finally his outer body shell, in as minute detail as possible. To his utter amazement, he felt the change happening, felt his essence divorce itself from his body and become nothing more than a glowing green sphere. Then the green orb began to shift its shape to create the form pictured in his mind. The procedure, unlike the reformatting undertaken by Unicron, was painless and stress-free.
"Mighty Megatron, you may emerge," Soundwave intoned in his characteristic melodic tone.
The Decepticon leader stood and emerged from the water, carefully keeping his mind blank as Soundwave had advised until he had cleared the water. Then and only then did he dare to glance downward. The sight of his own silvery-white body shell and polished black fusion cannon was enough to make him want to weep tears of joy. He held his ebony hands up, inspecting them as if he had never seen them before. All of it was exactly as he remembered. Gone was the hated form twisted into slavery by Unicron! He was his own now, restored to his former glory!
He exited the cave to the cheers and roars of approval of his minions. Their accolades filled his very spark, driving away the eternal chill that Unicron's influence and Galvatron's subsequent madness had left behind. "Hear me, Decepticons!" he spoke, pausing to relish the way they straightened to attention. Galvatron had nearly torn his troops asunder, but Megatron would unite them into a force to be reckoned with. "Megatron is back, in body and spirit alike! Let nothing stop us from attaining our former glory! Cybertron will be ours, and woe will befall any Autobot who stands in our way!" The answering roar was all the approval he needed.
Over the next few months, the Decepticons executed well-planned strikes, continuing to build their energy stockpiles. In one smooth, precise attack, they managed to gain control of Goloran, a small, uninhabited planetoid. It had nothing to benefit the Decepticons, save its close proximity to Cybertron. It would make the perfect staging ground for a strike on the planet, once the Decepticons managed to find a way past the Autobots' planetary defenses. There was something to be said for Goloran – it was, by far and away, a better base of operations than Charr had ever been.
His warriors were well-energized and happy, just raring to jump into battle. "Calm yourselves, bide your time," he advised them. "Soon the Autobots will come to us, and then we will see who has the upper hand." The Autobots simply could not afford to let the Decepticons station themselves so close to the homeworld, and they were sure to react to their presence on Goloran. In the meantime, they contented themselves with taking potshots at passing Autobot cruisers.
Then one day Dirge, who had monitoring duty, saw something of interest. "Mighty Megatron!" he yelled with as much urgency as his monotonous voice could muster. "Autobots are approaching the planet!"
"How many?" the silver robot asked, hurrying into the communications room.
"Looks like two massive battle cruisers," the jet replied with more enthusiasm than Megatron had thought possible.
"Excellent!" Megatron hissed, clapping his hands together. Not enough to leave Cybertron defenseless, but enough to show that the Autobots considered the Decepticons to be a renewed threat. He reached for the base's public address system. "Attention, Decepticons! The moment we have been waiting for is now at hand! Repel the Autobot attackers and avenge the Decepticon name!"
Astrotrain and Thrust manned the base's exterior defenses, firing on the shuttles. One of them soon sported a satisfying hole in its side, smoke pouring from the gap. It lurched as its pilot struggled to compensate for the damage. A lucky shot from the other ship, however, blew off the barrel of one of the large perimeter guns, rendering it useless. The two Decepticons cursed but were not overly upset. In fact, they had been itching for a good hands-on battle for some time.
The Autobots obliged them by pouring from the shuttles as soon as they had touched down. Decepticons charged from the base at lightning speed, taking the strike team by surprise with their ferocity. It had been far too long for the proud warrior race since they had been able to engage their foes on an equal footing, and they relished the chance at payback. The Autobots, on the other hand, had trained for this possibility but had lost the razor-sharp ever-ready battle edge.
Ultra Magnus soon had his hands full with a rampaging Cyclonus. He managed to wrest away the Decepticon's weapon but soon found his own skittering away across the desolate powder that comprised most of the planet. Rather than make a futile dive for it, he lowered his head and charged the purple robot, the two clashing in a blaze of sparks and bending metal.
The two Primes emerged from the chaos, each taking deadly accurate shots at the fuel-thirsty Decepticons. "Come out, Galvatron," Rodimus taunted, blasting Astrotrain, who had sought to take Springer unawares. "Or are you too afraid to face us?"
Laughter rang across the battlefield. Familiar, cutting laughter from their nightmares. All combatants paused in their hostilities; the Autobots in confusion, the Decepticons in relish. None of them wanted to miss this!
An all-too-familiar figure stepped out of the shadows. The light of the pale, weak sun glinted off of his newly constructed silvery-white chassis. "Welcome, Autobots! It has been too long since I faced you in combat."
"No! It *can't* be!" Rodimus exclaimed, nearly dropping his rifle. Optimus merely stared at the apparition in mute horror. He had known, some part of him had known this would happen! He had an uncanny insight into people and events, but this one time he wished he had been wrong.
The living nightmare turned to the two horrified Autobot leaders. "Optimus Prime, how wonderful to see you again!" he exclaimed, somehow managing to sound genuinely delighted by his old nemesis' arrival. "And the young one – Rodimus, is it? Forgive me, but Galvatron's memories are far from orderly. Nevertheless, I shall take great pleasure in destroying you both." Megatron's mind struggled to bring back memories of this young Prime but only succeeded in grasping at a few fractured images. Two Prime units? Optimus was bad enough, and he refused to lie down and die! Now there was another one? No matter, he himself had proved quite difficult to kill. He was a Decepticon; it was his destiny to triumph!
"You'll never win, Megatron!" Rodimus cried, finding painful memories floating to the surface. He remembered watching the two opposing leaders clashing all those years ago in a stunning fight to the finish. Optimus had won, but Megatron had been inching for a weapon, a weapon Optimus hadn't seen… or so Rodimus had thought. Looking back on it years later, he realized that Optimus couldn't simply destroy a defenseless foe, but by grasping a weapon, Megatron would have forfeited any mercy that he sought, and Optimus could destroy him with a clear conscience. And then Hot Rod had intervened. Perhaps it was fate, but it still seemed like an awful, stupid mistake!
Rodimus' mind replayed the images like a slide show – his leaping in to tackle Megatron; the Decepticon using him as a shield as he blasted away at a weakened and vulnerable Optimus Prime; Optimus falling, fluids leaking at an alarming rate, his side sparking; Megatron gloating as he prepared to make his final shot; Optimus rallying and knocking Megatron to his doom with one mighty blow; Optimus collapsing as Hot Rod begged for forgiveness for the unforgivable.
With an inarticulate cry, he jerked his weapon up and began firing, peppering his hated enemy with laser fire. Then he launched himself at Megatron, raining blows on his head and chest as fast as he could work his fists. The Decepticon winced at the damage, then managed to shove the frenzied Autobot aside and fired a blast from his fusion cannon, catching Rodimus in the shoulder. The red and orange Autobot gritted his mouth plates and clutched at the wound, fluids leaking around his covering hand.
A laser rifle blast struck Megatron square in the chest, causing him to stagger back. Smoke drifted lazily from the wound. "Leave him alone, Megatron," the elder Autobot leader spoke calmly and evenly, expertly hiding his worry over his second-in-command. He felt Rodimus' warring emotions through their Matrix link, as well as the biting sting of the shoulder wound, but pushed them aside. There was no time for such distractions. "Your fight is with me."
Megatron fixed him with a chilling smile. "My fight is with any Autobot who opposes me, but I have missed sparring with you. Let's have it, then." Optimus did not like making the first move, but he stowed his weapon in subspace and leapt for his adversary. Megatron easily deflected the strike and lashed out with a powerful punch, which Prime just barely ducked.
Rodimus hauled himself painfully to his feet, forcing the pain in his shoulder to the back of his mind. The leak had already slowed considerably, and he had no time to waste on it. His Autobots were failing miserably around him, and he sprang into action, firing on a crowd of 'Cons that had Goldbug surrounded. Ultra Magnus managed to escape Cyclonus' clutches, who had been giving out a pretty good thrashing, and joined Rodimus' side. "This is a losing proposition!" Magnus observed, knowing a defeat when he saw it.
Rodimus watched the violence before him with despair. They had had well over a century of peace and prosperity with the Decepticons posing little more than a nuisance. Was their tenuous peace lost forever? How had the Decepticons managed to become so powerful in such a short matter of time? The answer was all too obvious: Megatron. He didn't know how or why, but it was plain to see that their old archrival was back. And the reprieve that the Autobots had enjoyed was gone.
Everywhere he looked, his Autobots were being cut down by Decepticon weapon-fire. The Autobots had thought that this would be an easy strike and had grossly miscalculated. Now the soldiers were paying for their leaders' misjudgment. Rodimus felt seared to the core with guilt. This was all his fault! He should have anticipated this!
He nearly choked on the words exiting his vocal processor. "Autobots, retreat! Retreat to the shuttles!" He and Ultra Magnus both laid down some cover fire, giving their troops the chance to disengage and head for safety.
Optimus looked up in surprise as the order for a retreat came over the common Autobot radio band. A quick glance around answered his unspoken question. The Autobot troops were in disarray, overwhelmed by the sheer savagery of the Decepticon counterattack. Nearly all of them were wounded, a few critically so. He was glad that their soldiers had obeyed Rodimus' command unquestioningly, without a single complaint or turning to Optimus for confirmation. Rodimus had come into his own some time ago, and everyone had come to accept him as Optimus' equal, though he technically held the rank of second-in-command.
Optimus prepared himself to give Megatron a disorienting blow, earning him enough time to get clear and coordinate the retreat. But the Decepticon leader merely stood aside with a gloating smirk, having heard the order. Optimus hesitated for a split second, torn between feeling grateful for the chance to avoid more violence and feeling outraged by the condescending way that Megatron was treating him. He pulled himself out of his brief paralysis and raced over to Rodimus and Magnus, who were covering the last of the straggling Autobots. Once everyone was safely in the shuttles, the three officers headed to the ships, only a few scattered shots opposing them.
Rodimus risked a glance backwards, his fuel boiling in rage at what he saw. The Decepticons were laughing at them! "Later, Roddy!" Magnus exclaimed, hauling his friend into the shuttle. The pilots lost no time in getting their ships airborne. Optimus watched the planet recede below them as the shuttles headed back to Cybertron. Megatron had let them go, simply to mock them! This had been a test, and the Autobots had failed miserably.
The mood aboard both attack cruisers was grim. All of the attack force had survived, but some had just barely escaped with their lives. Rodimus had tended to his shoulder wound himself, refusing further treatment until the more serious casualties had been dealt with. He and Optimus did not exchange a single word. Each felt the stinging humiliation of failure and defeat, and the awful responsibility that they both shared for it.
Aboard the second shuttle, hidden in a dark corner, drifted a cloud of gray smoke, nearly imperceptible in the dim light. Its red eyes glowed as it soaked up the rioting feelings of helpless rage and bitter defeat. Now this was more like it! It was closer now to its objective, so close it could taste it. Just a little longer now….