Disclaimer: Hasbro et al still owns Transformers as they haven't been kind enough to allow me a share in their business.

Night-stalker, Dive-bomber, and probably any other names you don't recognise are mine and so are protected by me and I will guard them fiercely…Grrr

More modifications to accepted Transformer history has occurred in this fic, but hey this makes more sense to me. Some may say its Decepticon biased but if I ever finish this fic that may change.

Sorry it took so long to update, but I've been busy (Uni work and all)

Anyhew, question, queries, comments please e-mail me (I like e-mails) other wise enjoy and review!

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            "I am Vector Sigma. Before Cybertron was I was. Who reactivates me?" asked the booming voice emanating from the large golden, pulsating globe.

"I Shockwave. Decepticon Military Operations Commander and Guardian of Cybertron" answered Shockwave taking a step towards the glowing orb.

"Why have you done this thing?" the globe demanded.

"I bring before you three of our number who have been damaged. I want you to repair them," Shockwave stated.

"Bring them forward," commanded Vector Sigma. Galvatron, Cyclonus and Scourge were roughly forced to the front of the group and paused roughly ten feet in front of the glistening orb.

"Damaged? DAMAGED! I'll have all your heads for this! I AM GALVATRON! I AM…BWAAAA," screamed Galvatron. He started to turn in order to attack his captors but was stopped short as a bolt of highly charged energy impacted onto his head, originating from Vector Sigma. Two further bolts also struck Cyclonus and Scourge with a loud crackle. Abruptly the bolts stopped and silence descended on the room. Galvatron, Cyclonus and Scourge stood rigid and impassive staring forward, optics glowing. Eventually Vector Sigma spoke, its voice slow, somewhat deeper than before with a hint of concern clearly audible.

"They have been touched…by the Chaos Bringer" Shockwave considered Vector Sigma's statement.

"Affirmative" he finally replied.

"When?" demanded the supercomputer, its voice sounded almost frantic in it's questioning. Was it possible, thought Shockwave, that the supercomputer had never registered the appearance of Unicron? But then why would it?

"Approximately five point four vorns ago" he answered impassively.

"And he has been here? And I did not feel his presence?" This final question seemed to Shockwave to be a rhetorical one. Why should Vector Sigma be concerned with Unicron? Why should it feel its presence?

"Affirmative" he again answered; it made sense to at least answer the question aimed at them. The room fell into silence again. Shockwave was becoming concerned. Firstly, it seemed illogical that Vector Sigma should in any way have or require any knowledge of Unicron for it to carry out its operational parameters. Secondly, was it possible that the merging with the Autobot Alpha Trion those many vorns ago had, in some way, affected the function of the super computer? It could answer the possibility of its knowledge of Unicron, though no Autobot or Decepticon had been aware of Unicron's existence prior to his attack on Cybertron's moons. He had calculated the odds of Alpha's influence affecting Vector Sigma's acceptance to carry out its operation and relieve Galvatron of his insanity, whether Cyclonus or Scourge could be classified as insane or not was not the problem however their blind loyalty to Galvatron meant that anything they did to him must be done to them if only to maintain a form of credence with his remaining troops, but he had dismissed this as its basic programming would conclude that it must obey whomever activated and instructed it. But why was it bothered about Unicron?

            "That's preposterous," cried Lightfire. "We can't send our troops in there. It would mean their complete eradication"

"The losses would be acceptable in order to draw some of the Decepticon forces away from the main group" said Obsidian calmly. "If we can use them to draw Decepticon forces away from this area, where they seem to be encamped, and into the ruins of Mechacity we would have a greater tactical advantage as there would be more cover for our own troops as well as allowing a secondary thrust supported by Predacon ground troops through this area here. Our main force advancing through this sector here would also have the advantage of not having to face the entire Decepticon force head-on" As he spoke he passed his arm over the holographic image on the table. The images moved showing the possible tactical outcome.

"And if the Decepticons don't take the bait then we leave this section to the North-East completely unprotected allowing a Decepticon thrust through here" retorted Lightfire. Obsidian and Strika, supposedly two of the greatest Generals in Cybertronian history seemed to be making obvious tactical errors. He was beginning to wonder whether their time in space and subsequent 'repair' by the Predacons had damaged their logic circuits.

"This area will not be undefended" Strika replied calmly. "As you can see, we have a small reserve force in this section here in order to support the main front. Should the Decepticons decide to attempt to force their way through here we can merely divert these troops through there" again the holographic display showed troop movements across the battlefield.

"How are you surmising Decepticon tactics," asked Stormchaser. "Surely they will do things which your simulations can't foresee?"

"Agreed however their Commander, as long as our information is accurate, is Shockwave. Our history records show that all his actions were, and consequently are, based purely on logic. With this information we can at least prepare relatively accurate simulations" answered Obsidian.

"So you believe that we will win then?" pushed Stormchaser. Obsidian and Strika looked at each other briefly then turned to Stormchaser.

"Our estimates show a low probability of success," answered Obsidian matter-of-factly.

"Low probability of success. LOW PROBABILITY OF SUCCESS! What, by the Matrix, have you been doing?! We give you every piece of military hardware on the planet for your use and you tell us that we have a low probability of success!" screamed Stormchaser.

"The Maximals are not a militarily based species" began Obsidian. "For this reason your armed forces are relatively small, only a few hundred thousand troops. The Predacons, though much better prepared because of a more militaristic nature, have been limited to a very small-armed force because of agreements put in force by the Maximal and Predacon hierarchy since the end of the Great War. This means that though you may have well-armed troops who outnumber the Decepticon force you don't have the military ability that they do. Also, given that the Decepticon armour and weapons are far more powerful than our own, we can surmise that for every one of them that is removed from the battle there will at be least a few hundred, if not thousand casualties on our part. We also have no information on possible Decepticon reinforcements, if they have any, nor do we know what they are doing beneath the surface of the planet. If we take all of these factors into account we have a low probability of success, but not no probability of success"

"Aren't you being slightly over cautious with your figures? Do you really believe that a single Decepticon could kill thousands of our troops?" asked Lightfire.

"Whether they can or not our information is only an estimation. A single Decepticon could not by itself destroy the numbers we have put before you, however it must be remembered that we are not dealing with a single Decepticon, we are dealing with many and they will work together for their victory. With this in mind our estimation may be to high but it would be better to expect a worse case scenario then enter this confrontation expecting our losses to be slight just because we outnumber them" answered Obsidian.

"Is there any way that we can improve our chances?" asked Cheetor, stepping forward towards the 'plotting table'.

"The easiest way of increasing our probability of success would be to increase the number of troops," answered Strika. Night-stalker moved towards Obsidian.

"May I take a look at the information you have on force sizes?" he asked politely, a customary smile visible behind his faceplate. Obsidian looked at him briefly, handed him his pad and moved his attention back to the 'conversation'.

"And how, pray, do you expect us to do that? We can't just make troops magically appear," snapped the Predacon General. Night-stalker looked up briefly from scanning the information in front of him.

"You could start by making all forces available for this little campaign. They might not help but then, who knows?" The Predacon General shot a look towards Night-stalker, anger clearly evident in his optics.

"Who hasn't made all their forces available?" demanded Stormchaser. Night-stalker looked at him, a devious glint perceptible in his optic.

"Why" he began. "All of you" he said, his arm making a wide gesture to all in the room.

"I don't know what you mean," snapped the Predacon General.

"This is preposterous," screamed Lightfire. "Who are you to say that that is not a complete account of our forces?" Night-stalker smiled. He looked over at Dive-bomber briefly before bringing his attention back to the main group.

"I am merely a Predacon Representative to the Maximal Council of Elders, however I do know that both of my Predacon colleagues here" he motioned towards the two Predacon Generals stood before him, both glowering at him. "And you, my esteemed Maximal Commander, have not been entirely accurate in your figures here, have you?" Stormchaser looked hard at Night-stalker.

"What makes you believe that there are forces missing?" he finally asked, his faceplate gritted in annoyance. How dare this Predacon scum tell him that all his forces weren't made available to this operation, he gave the order himself, well apart from…but then there was no way that Night-stalker could know about them, unless…

"Well I can show you the information if you would like, but I estimate that there are at least three divisions of Predacon ground and aerial support troops missing, as well as at least two divisions of Maximal storm-troopers"

"We don't have any storm-troopers," answered Nightflight. Stormchaser shot a look towards Lightfire, who was starting to shift uncomfortably on the spot. "It goes against what our military was designed to do. They are used to maintain the peace, not attack" he looked at Lightfire in order to gain some support, but when there was none forthcoming he asked, "Isn't it?"

"That is our entire military complement" Lightfire eventually agreed, though his voice didn't sound entirely convincing.

"Really?" asked Night-stalker. "My sources disagree with your information"

"Your sources, your sources, again with your sources! WHO ARE YOUR SOURCES?" screamed Stormchaser. Night-stalkers grin visibly broadened.

"They are sources that provide me with reliable information," he answered calmly. Before Stormchaser could retort he turned his attention to the Predacon Generals. "And where are the three divisions?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly more stern than usual.

"This is our entire military complement; as per treaty amendment 3233" replied the lead Predacon General, his angular features showing a clearly defined scowl.

"And perhaps you would like to remind us what that treaty states?" asked Night-stalker calmly. The Generals scowl deepened.

"Predacon Military force sizes are limited to fifteen divisions, or one hundred fifty thousand troops. And if you would care to double check your information on that pad, you will see that our entire military complement as per 3233 is included" the General finished triumphantly. Night-stalkers grin broadened, oh how he enjoyed annoying the military.

"That is correct, however I would still maintain my previous statement that both the Maximals and Predacon militaries are keeping back at least, what, fifty thousand troops between you? Not a small force really is it?"

"It wouldn't be if they existed" began the Predacon General. "It seems to me that you've got wrong information. Maybe you should consider getting new sources"

"Perhaps" responded Night-stalker, his voice cool and calm. He keyed something onto the pad and turned back to Obsidian. Obsidian took the pad back from Night-stalker then turned back towards the main group, Night-stalker stepped back into the shadows.

"Well, if that's been dealt with" started Stormchaser. "How do you recommend we increase the numbers of our forces?"

"We could arm the civilian populations and bring them into the battle. They would, after all be fighting for their freedom because, and lets be honest here, the Decepticons aren't just going to let us live alongside them here are they" said the Nightflight.

"Out of the question" replied Stormchaser. "They wouldn't stand a chance against the Decepticons, they'd be destroyed in cycles"

"Any other bright ideas?" asked the Predacon General.

"We could reintroduce Vehicon drones," stated Obsidian. "They would obey orders without question as well as increasing our numbers without loss to the general populations" Night-stalker looked up sharply, his audio sensors tuned into hearing everything said. This could become very bad, he thought.

"Out of the question" Stormchaser immediately answered.

"For starters we don't even have the plans to build them," said Nightflight.

"Plus it'd take time to build the equipment to construct them" added Lightfire.

"Also, could we really take the risk using these? Does nobody remember what Megatron used them for before the great reformatting?" cried Cheetor.

"Not really" answered the Predacon General, a sadistic smirk appearing over his angular features. "Unlike some, we weren't operational" He looked back at Obsidian. "Though the pussy-cat here has a point, could we be sure that we could control them?"

"There would be no problems with the operation of the drones" began Obsidian. "They would be under our control and could be deactivated after the Decepticon situation was dealt with. It would, however, provide us with an almost limitless supply of troops to put into battle with the Decepticons whilst also reducing possible casualties on our part. Scanning both Strika and myself and using this information to rebuild them would also deal with the problem of not having their design specifications. It would also be an easy task to reprogram some of the standard chassis construction machines to build these modified designs" Night-stalker shot a look towards Dive-bomber. Dive-bomber saw, acknowledged with a nod, and began edging his way towards the lift. After Dive-bomber had entered the lift and the doors closed Night-stalker returned his attention to the debate continuing ahead of him.

"There may be some of the original machines still useable in one of the abandoned factories" said the second Predacon General, sounding rather eager. He quickly shrunk away when he noticed the glare from his 'superior'.

"Very well" Stormchaser finally said sounding rather dejected, after conferring briefly with the other Elders in the room. "If you believe that it is possible to reconstruct the drones without them harming any of the population then go ahead, at least it will mean that we won't have to suffer military losses"

"I would disagree with that logic" started Obsidian. "We will require the full complement of Maximal and Predacon forces in order for this operation to succeed"

"Why?" Stormchaser snapped. "If we're building Vehicons surely we don't need to use any of our forces"

"The construction of Vehicons will take time, and that is something that we don't have" stated Obsidian. "Currently the Decepticons are involved in something below the surface of the planet, we don't know what that is. Also the Decepticons won't remain in that sector forever, and given long enough they will soon begin to rebuild their forces into more of its former self. For this reason we will continue with the plan as set and we will include the Vehicon drones as and when their numbers become acceptably large"

"Surely the plan can be altered" started Cheetor. "We will now clearly outnumber the Decepticons to such an extent that we can't lose"

"What would you like us to alter?" asked Strika.

"Perhaps you would rather we send in our forces shouting OBLITERATE or TERMINATE without a set strategy?" continued Obsidian, his words laced with sarcasm. Cheetor growled at the two Vehicon Generals before him but said nothing in reply.

"Its agreed then" said Strika. "We will use the plan as it is set. How long will it take to set up the factories to produce the drones?"

"Not long," answered the second Predacon General. "As long as we can get the design specifications from you, and we can get hold of the parts we need in sufficient quantities I would guess roughly a megacycle, maybe two"

"In that case we will have to begin the operation before the drones are ready, as we predicted" said Obsidian. They all nodded in agreement. "Now about these forces that you are hiding" Obsidian said, holding up the data-pad that Night-stalker had returned to him.

            Cheetor had had about enough of this meeting. Though they had prepared a plan to deal with the Decepticons they would still suffer massive casualties. Not only that but they were going to start rebuilding Vehicons; the thought sent a shiver through his neural processor. He had to try and get in contact again with Rattrap; he had to know what was happening to his friends, Botanica's scream still haunted him and why were the Predacons chasing them? He looked around the room as he thought about sneaking back over to the communications console but a thought struck him, where was Dive-bomber, and more to the point where was Night-stalker. He had seen Night-stalker stood near Obsidian and had just assumed he was still there but as he looked he could see that he had definitely moved. He looked about; he then thought he heard a quiet voice coming from the direction of the communications console. He looked behind where he was stood and saw Night-stalker speaking in hushed tones into the small speaker along side the console. He strained to hear what he was saying but his audio receptors couldn't make it out. Well, he thought if Night-stalker could creep up on me when I was using the system then I can creep up on him. He began slowly edging toward the console.

            Night-stalker was beginning to feel quite concerned. He knew that the most obvious answer to their problems of lack of troops would be to begin construction of Vehicon drones, but he also knew what was happening in the old Vehicon factories. His communicator beeped informing him that Dive-bomber had reached his ship and had opened communications with his contact within the Predacon Intelligence Agency. Keeping to the shadows he swiftly moved over to the communications console that Cheetor had been using. He moved silently without anyone noticing. He could have just activated his portable cloak, but where was the fun in that? Before it had been produced and fitted to all the Agencies agents he had had to move about without being seen by use of his wits and abilities, something he would make sure that he never lost. He remembered tracking a Maximal informer for many megamiles without him ever knowing he was there. He also remembered the swift justice that he gave once he had found out the information that he had required. He stepped up to the console and adeptly accessed the communications equipment. He keyed in the access codes that would give him a secure channel, the last thing he needed now was somebody listening in on this conversation. The screen flickered then a dark shape appeared on screen.

"Report" asked the figure.

"Withdraw all forces from the Vehicon factories. Deactivate all equipment and delete all files stored in the construction machines data cores", whispered Night-stalker.

"Reason?" asked the figure bluntly.

"Maximal and Predacon militaries have agreed to begin reconstruction of Vehicons for operation against Decepticons. They must not find Agency workers or equipment or they will become suspicious. Halt all operations and withdraw immediately"

"Very well. Withdraw will begin immediately. Have Predacons and Maximals agreed to use all their forces?" Night-stalker smiled.

"Negative, however Obsidian and Strika have been informed. No doubt they will have to agree to use at least some of their hidden forces. We will be victorious"

"Very good. Our spy within the Decepticon forces has been ordered to return, he will come to your ship. Expect his arrival soon. This communication ends" The screen went black as the image faded. Night-stalker suddenly sensed someone close to him. He looked surreptitiously over his shoulder and noticed Cheetor creeping closer to him. Well done, thought Night-stalker, there's hope for you yet. As Cheetor approached Night-stalker turned to him.

            Cheetor was almost over to the console when Night-stalker turned to face him. Slag, he thought. Just once I'd like to sneak over to him and not have him notice.

"Can I help you?" asked Night-stalker.

"That depends" started Cheetor. "Are you gonna tell me who you were talking to?" Night-stalker grinned and his optics glowed brightly.

"Now I believe we both know the answer to that query don't we?" Night-stalker took a step towards Cheetor and placed a hand on the shoulder of the taller Maximal. "A piece of advice: if you want answers to questions don't ask, find out yourself because whatever you're told is usually a lie"

"Using your logic you must be lying to me now" snorted Cheetor. Night-stalkers grin visibly grew.

"You're learning," he said as he removed his hand from the Maximals shoulder and sauntered back to the main group. Cheetor turned towards the console. Well if I've got to find things out for myself then so be it, he thought as he again began accessing the computers communications array.

            "Well this is boring" Dirge said to Ramjet as they leant against the wall in the Sigma chamber.

"Yeah" replied Ramjet. "Do you reckon that Vector Sigma linking with Galvatron fried its circuits?"

"Why not, it'd fry mine," added Thrust.

"Anything'd fry yours," mocked Motormaster. The three jets straitened in front of Motormaster showing their height over the shorter Stunticon leader.

"And like you could handle it" snapped back Thrust.

"Better than you could you outdated hunk of junk" retorted Motormaster. The three jets raised their weapons in unison each one targeting a different section of Motormaster's torso.

"Shall we see how much your circuits can handle?" asked Thrust. Motormaster raised his weapon, aiming it at Thrust's chest.

"A darn sight more than yours could," retorted the Stunticon leader.

"Should we help Motormaster?" Wildrider asked his fellow Stunticons who were stood a few feet away from the small feud.

"Why?" asked Deadend.

"Well he is our leader" pointed out Breakdown.

"So?" Deadend queried.

"Without him we can't form Menasor," stated Dragstrip.

"Still not seeing a problem" said Deadend. "All that means is I don't have to listen to his voice in my head any more"

"Good point" the other Stunticons agreed and continued to watch the action unfold ahead of them.

Shockwave heard the ruckus going on behind him and turned. He saw Motormaster about to start a fight with the three jets and decided to intervene.

"Lower your weapons all of you" he commanded, raising his own to give himself a show of force. "Your inane squabbling has nothing to do with our being here. Save your energy for the upcoming battle"

"Battle?" asked Ramjet lowering his weapon.

"Of course" answered Shockwave. "It is logical to assume that the Predacons and Maximals will soon launch an attack on our position in order to force us off the planets surface, it was for this reason that I ordered the Combaticons to remain on guard outside of the entrance in order to provide us with early warning of such an attack" Shockwave turned to Astrotrain. "I also believe that it is time to reactivate the last of our troops. Return to our ship and transport the remaining Decepticons to the surface" Astrotrain nodded and left the room. As the Decepticons stood down a low murmur was heard from Vector Sigma. Shockwave turned to look at the supercomputer. It was beginning to glow even more intensely than before, then it spoke its voice much deeper than before but with a powerful resonance.

"My children have returned" it stated. Shockwave looked quizzically at the glowing orb. Technically it could be surmised that they were its children, as it gave them all life, however that was not a general term used by Transformers as they technically had no offspring as an organic creature would understand it. "The protectors of Cybertron have returned victorious from all their challenges" it continued. Again Shockwave was unsure of what the supercomputer meant. What challenges? Perhaps over time the supercomputer had suffered circuit failures.

"Challenges?" asked Shockwave.

"Yes" replied the computer. It was either being unhelpful by choice, which Shockwave decided against or it didn't understand the question.

"Interrogative: What challenges?" Shockwave asked again.

"The first was your freedom from the Slave Makers. The second was the coming of the Chaos Bringer. As you are here you must have succeeded thusly I have succeeded" answered the supercomputer.

"Interrogative: Who are the Slave Makers" questioned Shockwave.

"You refer to them as the Quintessons" answered the glowing orb. "When the first mechanical life was created on this planet from my design parameters they were constructed to defend from the Chaos Bringer, however they were extremely basic in design and lacked sophistication. I decided that they would not be powerful enough to defend this planet against the Chaos Bringer so attempted to draw other life forms here in order to improve my designs. The Slave Makers were drawn to this planet by their greed and used these designs to produce more robots to perform tasks for them. They soon began to produce more sophisticated designs however they were unable to produce workable intelligence and so required me. I increased my design capabilities and learnt from their own designs in order to expand my own and incorporate them into my own robots specifications. My first attempts were accepted by the Slave Makers and formed the basis of both a military line and standard workforce in order to sell as consumer goods. My first, more basic designs were designated Autobots. As my will increased so I provided them with their own intelligence to repel the Slave Makers. However, their design was not one primarily for combat and for this purpose I designed and constructed a second, more specialised group of robots to repulse the Slave Makers entirely. These units were fitted with improved armour and weapons. The Slave Makers classified these as Decepticons. These units saved Cybertron. You are the descendants of those units. You are the Children of Primus"

            Swindle threw the technorganic Maximal Elder to the ground, its systems already offline.

"Well, we learned absolutely frag all from him," moaned Swindle.

"But at least we had some fun torturing him" added Brawl. Ravage looked up at the taller Combaticon and shook his head. Brawl lived for one thing only, killing anyone or anything that got in his way. It was a shame really that Starscream hadn't found a better component when he released the Combaticons from the Decepticon detention vaults. Ah well, Starscream never was to bright himself, so it seemed fitting that Brawl should be one of his creations. He turned toward the entrance to the underground tunnel after he heard what sounded like something transforming and then a roar of engines. Astro-seconds later Astrotrain erupted from the tunnel entrance in his shuttle mode spewing flames from his engines as he accelerated into space. Nice of someone to have told us he was coming, he thought. He looked back toward Buzzsaw who was inspecting the technorganic Maximal. Had he continued looking in the direction of the tunnel entrance slightly longer, he may have noticed a small speck follow Astrotrain out of the tunnel and fly off in the opposite direction.

            "We have no more troops!" cried Lightfire. "I don't know what that Predacon put on that pad but I can assure you that we have no more forces available than the ones that we have already guaranteed you use of" Lightfire looked almost to be pleading with Obsidian who remained completely deadpan, intent on his investigation. Night-stalker had to force himself not to laugh out loud as he watched the 'play' going on ahead of him as he circled the group, whilst keeping in the shadows.

"The information on this pad would disagree with your statement," replied Obsidian. Noticing a slight smirk appearing over the Predacon Generals face he quickly added "Both your statements"

"I protest," snarled the Predacon General. "Just because this Maxi lover has put down that we have more troops, I can assure you that we don't" his face began to contort slightly, giving him a look of a wronged child. "Our military has been limited to a maximum size for many Stellarcycles and I can assure you that the Predacon Council would never allow such an obvious breach of our agreements"

"Which Predacon Council?" retorted Stormchaser.

"The Predacon Council" snapped the General. "I don't know what you may think you know about Predacon command structure but I can tell you, we have only one Council"

"Since when?" argued Stormchaser.

"Now, now children" interrupted Night-stalker. "I believe we are going slightly off topic"

"Agreed" said Strika. "If you will not willingly provide a full force complement for this operation, how can we be sure that it will succeed?"

"But that is all our troops" pleaded Nightflight. "For Primus's sake why won't you believe that?"

"Because of this" stated Obsidian slotting the pad into the holo-generator on the side of the plotting table. Immediately the original image was replaced with a long-range overhead shot of three different locations. With a little work Obsidian systematically zoomed in on each of the locations in turn. In each location large numbers military personnel not conforming to general military designs were present. The Maximal troops had much thicker armour plating than the average Maximal, as well as carrying much larger weapons. The Predacons, though to the untrained eye looked not unlike the average Predacon, had much larger weapons and a slightly different insignia emblazoned on their chassis. Obsidian turned to the gathered Commanders. "If you have no extra forces, whose are these?"

"Its obviously a trick" snorted Stormchaser.

"I've never seen Maximals with this type of body armour before" said Nightflight, quizzically. Lightfire said nothing and just started shifting uncomfortably on the spot, attempting to keep out of optic contact with Obsidian and Strika. The lead Predacon General merely sneered, the other just looked on blankly seeming not registering the images before him.

"Shall we try this again?" started Obsidian. "Will you provide us with all of your military forces?" The Generals and Stormchaser looked at each other.

"I'll need confirmation from my superiors" the Predacon General finally said, his head slumping forward in defeat. Where did that Maximal loving Predacon Representative get his information? And why was he so willing to leave his people undefended after they had got rid of the Decepticon threat? With these thoughts he turned and stormed towards the elevator. Night-stalker watched him leave. One down, he mused. He then turned his attention to Stormchaser who was talking quietly to Lightfire and the other Maximal Elders. Nightflight was kept out of the discussion, to his obvious disgust.

"Very well" agreed Stormchaser, turning to look at Obsidian and Strika. "We agree to allow the use of these forces, as long as the Predacons agree to use theirs. Also, when there are sufficient numbers of Vehicons available I want these troops withdrawn from the battlefield" The two Cybertronian Generals looked at each other then turned back to the Maximal.

"Very well, however it must be understood that they are under our command during this operation and that any losses are acceptable for our victory" Stormchaser hung his head.

"Agreed" he finally accepted. This is going better than I'd hoped, thought Night-stalker. Nearly all the pieces were in position and, barring any unforeseen problems, everything should turn as planned.

            He flew quickly. He had to meet his contact quickly or else the Agent he was supposed to report to in the Predacon Intelligence Agency would become suspicious, and one thing he had learnt since joining them was don't make them suspicious. He flew through the streets intent on his mission. The Agency would soon find that this small fly would do them a lot of damage. This small fly shouldn't have just been ignored. They should have given him his old body back. They shouldn't have just told him to do this and that. They should have had more respect for him. When he finally got the power that was his due they would be sorry, they would all be sorry. He flew down a darkened alley. For some reason the lights down here didn't work properly, probably why it had been chosen as the meeting place. He stopped and perched himself on a small ledge. Where was his contact? Why wasn't he here already? He couldn't be late giving his final report or else the Agent he had to meet might try and swat him. Typical, he thought. I do what they tell me and they don't show. He checked his internal chronometer. It was time to go, he couldn't just wait around here forever. Just as he lifted off from the edge however he heard a deep, raspy voice behind him.

"Leaving so soon? I had hoped you might stick around for a little bit longer" He turned and looked in the direction of the voice. He could just about see an outline of a large mech but couldn't see anything specific, except for its eyes. Those deep red glowing eyes that seemed to bore into him. Had he not had his vocaliser deactivated he might have screamed, but then if he did he would never get a decent body. He flew over to the mech and removed a small disc from the recorder on his back and placed it in the hand of the mech before him. It was small compared to himself, so compared to the 'bot before him it was minute.

"Thank you" said the 'bot. "Your loyal service to the Predacon Council and Starstrike will be rewarded" With that the mech turned away and disappeared into the shadows. He couldn't worry where the mech had gone though. He turned and flew off in the direction of the coordinates he had been given to meet the Agencies Agent, Station Omega. He again checked his chronometer. Slag it, he thought, I'm late. Why universe hate Waspinator?

            Cheetor was typing furiously at the control panel before him. It had been pretty simple to again gain access to the communications system, however he decided to do a better job of covering his tracks this time. Hopefully the main control board should just detect this as background static and ignore it. He finished keying in the final codes, then turned his attention to trying to regain contact with Rattrap. After a few nano-klics a grainy shape slowly started to appear on the screen. "Rattrap? Rattrap, is that you?" he asked anxiously.

"Sorry, that number is unavailable at present. Please try again later" came the voice over the intercom. Cheetor looked at the viewer puzzled for a nano-klic until the screen cleared. Before him was the face of a Predacon, his dark blue face reminiscent of Dinobot.

"Where's Rattrap? What have you done with him?" spat Cheetor.

"Now, now. Temper, temper. You'll never get a positive response by shouting at a mech like that now will you?" came the reply. Oh no, thought Cheetor, it's another Night-stalker. "Now then, lets start again shall we?" began the Predacon. "You're looking for someone called Rattrap, correct? I assume Rattrap would be a Maximal, I mean why else would you be trying to communicate from a Predacon Orbital facility? I assume this Rattrap is a friend of yours, maybe even your contact in the surveillance of Predacon activities? That would certainly answer what you're doing on a Predacon station, using a Predacon communications system, whilst trying to get into contact with a Maximal" Whilst the Predacon said these last few words and continued to rant randomly the screen began to flicker and contort. Faintly in the background Cheetor heard a recognisable voice say,

"Spots? Is that you?" Cheetor instantly felt his spirits lift hearing Rattraps voice, but also knew that if he said anything in reply the Predacon before him would instantly realise what was going on and try to use the signal to track Rattraps location. He began trying to change his signal frequency so that he would lose the Predacon and instead focus on Rattrap. Slowly the Predacons visage faded, and Rattraps image fuzzily came on the screen before him. He felt himself physically sigh as he saw his friend's face before him.

"Rattrap? Is that you? Are you okay?" Cheetor asked quickly.

"Yea, I'm fine but I'm worried 'bout Shrubs she says Cybertron's in pain and that the Oracle's trying to talk to her"

"The Oracle?" asked Cheetor, slightly taken aback.

"Yea, but for some reason it ain't workin' properly. How's 'bout you? Having any Pred problems?"

"Not really, nothing I can't handle anyway. I'm more concerned about you. There's a Predacon on your frequency and it seems he's doing a pretty good job of tracking you"

"Yea, but we're smarter than him. He won't catch us anytime soon, as long as Shrubs don't have another screaming fit"

"Is there anyway you can get somewhere where I can meet you?"

"Erm, we could try makin' our way to where you are?"

"Not likely. It's a Pred station, I don't think they'll just let you stroll on in. Anyway, I've got a feeling we won't be here much longer. I think we're about to launch the attack against the Decepticons"

"Really? I'd like to see that! Beatin' the servo's outta dem should be fun to see. Couldn't you get a shuttle or summit and meet us?"

"I could try, but then this is a Pred station, I don't think they'll just let me borrow a ship" Cheetor stopped as he heard the lift door open behind him. Slag, he thought, his mind racing over different scenarios that could now happen. He watched as the Predacon General stormed over to the main group, thankfully he completely ignored him. He turned back to the screen. "Okay, give me your approximate position and I'll try and find a way to get to you" As Cheetor said this he heard what sounded like a crackle of static come from behind him. He turned and saw nothing, except the group over by the plotting table. He turned back to the screen.

"Two nano-klics" said Rattrap. "There, it should come through onto yer screen about now" As Rattrap spoke the numbers giving his position flashed up. Cheetor noted them and signed off. As the system shutdown he looked towards the main group and noticed that Night-stalker wasn't among them. He looked about quickly scanning the room but couldn't see him, then the lift doors opened. No one came into the room, and no one seemed to go out and a thought struck Cheetor with some dread. Night-stalker has a cloaking device.

            Night-stalker was feeling rather pleased with himself. Before him he had the Maximals agreeing to use the last of their military might against the Decepticons, and they would no doubt suffer massive casualties. All the easier for us after this little escapade, he thought. As he looked about he saw Cheetor was again at the communications console, he smiled inwardly. So predictable, he thought. You give them one little hint and they do exactly what you want. He started to advance towards the Maximal. As he did so he seemed to shimmer slightly, then disappear as he activated his cloaking device. He was now stood directly behind Cheetor, listening and watching as he talked to Rattrap. It wouldn't be long until the Predacons who were tracking him would catch up with him and then Cheetor would be completely alone, and prone to more mistakes. Things were going exactly to plan. This little problem with the Decepticons might have accelerated their timetable but no matter, they would get all the Maximals who had dealt with Vehicons out of the way now where they could do no harm in the future, Obsidian and Strika were already dealt with. He turned at the sound of the lift doors opening and saw the Predacon General re-enter the room. He smiled when he saw the way that he held his head, the Predacon Council had obviously ordered him to allow the use of their 'illegal' forces. This was just so easy, he thought. He turned his attention back to the screen and as he watched the two Maximals talk he heard that Rattrap was going to send his coordinates to Cheetor so he could send a rescue ship. Well, he thought, there will definitely be a ship coming. However, just before Rattrap sent the coordinates his radio crackled to life. Cursing, Night-stalker backed away from the console and Cheetor so that he wouldn't be discovered. This had better be good, he thought. He heard Dive-bomber say something about the Agencies spy had made it to their ship and was ready for debriefing. He sent an acknowledging signal and turned back to the screen. Just before Cheetor deactivated the link he saw the coordinates. Noting them in his neural processor he turned and walked toward the lift. He would send the coordinates to the Predacon trackers and let them pick him up. He now had to deal with one of the most annoying of the Agencies spies.

            "Why big dark bot not let Wazzpinator out of room?" asked the small technorganic fly as he circled a computer console in the centre of the room. Dive-bomber was already starting to become annoyed with their visitor. He had refused to give his report until they had reactivated his vocal processor, but now that they had he just wouldn't shut up. Not only that  but he had now decided that he wouldn't give his report until Night-stalker showed up. He would have forced him into giving him the report but the small size of this particular bot hindered his ability to catch him, its what made him such a good spy he supposed. But that didn't make it any less likely that when Night-stalker turned up and found that the report that he would expect to be waiting for him was not there that he would stay in a good mood. Just what I need, thought Dive-bomber. As these last thoughts crossed his mind the door slid open and Night-stalker stepped into the room. He looked at Dive-bomber who nodded in the direction of the micro fly. Night-stalker, to Dive-bombers surprise, smiled and took a step towards him.

"Leave us" he commanded. Dive-bomber looked at him with a puzzled expression, but nodded and started to head towards the exit, however before he left Night-stalker called after him. "Inform the Maximal search team that we have the coordinates of their quarry, it's in the computer so if you want to send them it they would probably be most grateful" Dive-bomber nodded and stepped out of the room. As the door slid shut Night-stalker turned his attention to the technorganic mini-fly. "You have your report I assume" he asked.

"Of courzze" came the reply as Waspinator landed on the central console.

"Its about time" said Night-stalker as he stepped over to the console. He typed in a code and a large tube lowered from the ceiling. "Place the disk under the machine" he commanded. Waspinator looked as if he were about to argue, then seemed to think twice about it and ejected a small disk from the recorder on his back and placed it under the tube. Night-stalker accessed the controls and a bright beam of light emanated from the base of the tube. Gradually a humming sound grew as the power increased. Slowly the disk grew in size until it was large enough to fit into the standard disk readers in the room. Night-stalker deactivated the ray, picked up the disk and turned to leave the room.

"Why not uze ray to return Wazzpinator to proper size" said a voice from behind him. Night-stalker turned to look at the small Predacon.

"Do you really want to try it?" he grinned. Waspinator looked at Night-stalkers face.

"Not really" he replied.

"No, I didn't think so" said Night-stalker still smiling but he looked slightly disappointed. Before he turned out of the room his communicator beeped. "What" he asked.

"Um… I think you had better come up here" said Dive-bomber through the intercom, his voice didn't inspire confidence.

"On my way" he growled, deactivating his communicator. As he stepped out of the door he turned to the wasp. "Stay here and don't touch anything" At that the door closed. Waspinator looked up at the door and scowled.

"Big black bots think they better than Wazzpinator. They'll see"

            The door opened before him allowing entrance to a large dark chamber. Before him he could see a large 'throne' with a mech sat in it facing a large screen with computer terminals before it. The mech seated on the 'throne' was using the panel and accessing different areas of Cybertronian security. The 'throne' rotated at the sound of the opening doors and the seated mech beckoned for him to enter. As he walked towards the mech he outstretched his hand. In it he held a newly enlarged disk.

"The report on the Decepticons Lord Starstrike" Starstrike smiled.

"Place it into the reader" he commanded. The mech did as he was ordered and the report was brought onto the screen. "Excellent, excellent" repeated Starstrike. "I assume that Waspinator should have reached the Predacon Intelligence Agent by now?"

"Yes Lord Starstrike"

"Good. Inform Obsidian and Strika of the existence of this material"

"As you command" Soon, thought Starstrike, soon I will have a proper body and rule all of Cybertron.

            Night-stalker entered his command centre to be greeted with the sight of Obsidian, Strika, Stormchaser, the Predacon and Maximal Generals and Cheetor. Parts of the floor near his commanded chair had been lifted and replaced with new computer banks, and there were wires and cables stretching around the command centre that, to Night-stalkers eye had no reason to be there. He scanned the room and saw a sheepish looking Dive-bomber looking at him. "What, by the Pit, is going on in here" demanded Night-stalker. Starstrike turned to Night-stalker, this time it was his turn to smile.

"We required a command ship from which to control the attack on the Decepticons, and knowing that this ship had a cloaking device we decided that it would be perfect for the role" Night-stalker glowered at the Maximal Elder.

"That was a little foolish wasn't it" he began. "This ship isn't very heavily armed. If we are found by the Decepticons we would most likely be destroyed"

"Then we better make sure the cloak works properly then shouldn't we" replied Stormchaser. Before Night-stalker could protest any more Stormchaser turned away and moved back towards the main group. Seething, Night-stalker joined them.

"Very well" he snapped. "You can use this ship but I want to make one thing very clear. This is my ship. What I say goes"

"Accepted" said Obsidian calmly. He looked at Night-stalker. "Now would you please hand me that disk in your hand" Night-stalker just stared at the Cybertronian General. Was he deranged? Why would he want this disk?

"Why?" he asked. He hated being in this position. He was the one on the back foot and he was feeling more and more uncomfortable.

"It contains information on the Decepticon forces that may be invaluable for this operation. As the first wave of Predacon transport craft should be approaching the area under cloak, any information that we can add to make this operation a success should be utilised" Night-stalker was dumbfounded. How did Obsidian know what was on the disk? Someone must have told him, but who? There were two possibilities that sprung to mind. One, Dive-bomber. Being the immense fool that he was could have accidentally let slip about the disk. Two, Waspinator. He didn't trust the bug, and it would have been easy for him to inform Obsidian and Strika before he had arrived on his ship. He was jogged out if his thoughts by Obsidian. "The disk" he prodded. Night-stalker looked up and numbly passed him the disk. Obsidian inserted it into the reader in front of him and began reviewing the information.

"We should head towards the battle area now" Strika said to Night-stalker. "The battle should have already commenced by the time we arrive" Night-stalker just nodded. He turned towards the flight officer.

"Set course for Mechacity and activate the cloak" he ordered. He fell into his seat, his mind racing.

            Shockwave was becoming perturbed. Vector Sigma had had its little spout and had again fallen silent. Galvatron, Cyclonus and Scourge still stood rigid, staring forward but as yet Vector Sigma had not done what had been requested. They had been stood here for nearly eight breems and nothing had happened. He was about to turn and talk to Soundwave when Soundwave suddenly barked out.

"Alert. Alert. Enemy craft approaching" Before Shockwave could respond his communicator crackled into life.

"Shockwave, this is Onslaught. We've got some trouble up here" Suddenly the communication went dead and the ground shook with the sound of a large explosion. Shockwave acted immediately.

"Decepticons we are under attack. SCRAMBLE"