Author's Note: Here's the second chapter of Years of Darkness! Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed the first chapter. I hope you like this story as much as you did the prequel. Now on to the story!

Disclaimer: Ultra Rodimus and any pacifists mentioned by name are mine. Everyone else belongs to somebody else. But you already knew that.

Years of Darkness

Chapter Two: New Danger

Ultra Rodimus walked down the corridors of Iacon, heading for his office. As he walked, he watched the other Autobots he passed.

"Idon'tgetwhat'sgoingonwhydoesnooneevertellmewhat'shappening?" Blurr chattered to Hot Spot, much to the Protectobot commander's annoyance.

"Blurr, either slow down or shut up! I can't make out a word you're saying!" Hot Spot nearly yelled at the hyperactive blue and white bot. Ultra Rodimus shook his head, chuckling to himself.

"A rust spot! Where did this come from?!" Sunstreaker screeched from somewhere down the corridor.

"Keep it down, will you!" Sideswipe hissed.

"But..."

"Bro, can it!"

Sunstreaker muttered something, but subsided.

The corridor floor began to shake, warning Ultra Rodimus to hug the wall seconds before a wall of grey, red, and yellow metal charged past. Grimlock, the Dinobot leader, paused to growl at Ultra Rodimus before following the other four. Slag and Snarl were arguing about something. Swoop was chattering excitedly about what First Aid was teaching him. The Dinobot pteranodon had shown promise of becoming a doctor someday. Ratchet had begun training him. After Ratchet's death, First Aid had taken over Swoop's training. Sludge wasn't saying anything, but Ultra Rodimus knew he was listening. Sludge was a slow learner, but once he learned something, he rarely forgot it. Grimlock was there to keep the other Dinobots out of trouble until they got outside. Wheelie hurried along in their wake. He'd become a good friend of the Dinobots since his rescue from Quintessa.

Air Raid walked past, nodding a greeting to Ultra Rodimus. The young Prime nodded back, then entered his office. With a sigh, he sat behind the massive desk and began getting things straightened out.

"What's the hurry?"

Ultra Rodimus jumped, dropping his pen. As usual, he hadn't heard Sandstorm approaching. The pacifist triple changer moved silently despite his size.

"Primus, Sandy! Wear a bell around your neck!"

Sandstorm chuckled. "Where's the fun in that?" He looked Ultra Rodimus in the eyes, his attitude becoming serious. "Tell me what's bothering you."

The bigger bot sighed. "We're very short on energy. I use too much of what little we have. Keeping me functional means putting most of the army in stasis, and that's out of the question. I have to go into stasis until First Aid manages to build that energy converter for me. There's no telling how long I'll be off-line."

"You don't like the thought of shutting down?"

"I don't like the thought of going off-line when my people are in danger. If Galvatron ever figures out that I'm not functioning..."

"I heard from Magnus that you suggested a valid idea of what to do if that ever happens."

Ultra Rodimus chuckled. "Is there anything you don't know around here?"

"No," Sandstorm replied.

The young Prime sighed and returned to his work. Sandstorm leaned over his shoulder to see what he was doing.

"I think Magnus will do fine," Sandstorm assured Ultra Rodimus. "I'll help him. So stop worrying."

"I can't. I always have to worry about something. It's part of the job."

"Sometimes you worry too much." The pacifist placed his hands on Ultra Rodimus's shoulders and began kneading his upper back. "You're too tense. Try to relax."

"I've tried. But I can't."

The older triple changer appeared to roll his eyes. He concentrated on relaxing the tense muscle cables in Ultra Rodimus's back and shoulders, knowing it would help calm his frayed nerves. Gradually, the young leader calmed down enough to finish what needed to be done. Then he put down his pen, shut down his computer, and rose from his chair.

"It's time."

Sandstorm followed him to Iacon's repair bay. First Aid came out of his office.

"Over here." He led the two into a side chamber reserved for stasis units. The largest, which had been built to accommodate Ultra Rodimus's height, was open and ready.

Ultra Rodimus eyed it nervously, then sighed and climbed in. As First Aid closed the pod, Ultra Rodimus shut down, entering stasis lock.

"He doesn't like small spaces?" First Aid asked Sandstorm.

"He has a very mild case of claustrophobia. Not enough to cause a problem, but enough to make him nervous about going into very small spaces."

"I see."

Sandstorm changed the subject. "How's the power converter coming?"

"It's coming along fine. I just have to work out where it has to be placed, and which systems to hook it up to. His internal schematics are so complex I don't even know where to start. Repairing him was hard enough when he was Rodimus Prime. Now, since his rebirth, it's become even harder. His internal systems are four or more times more complicated than any other living Transformer's. I'm still mapping out his circuit pathways. I won't be able to install the converter until I've finished that. I don't want to take the chances if I install it and burn out his entire neural net."

The door hissed open. Hound entered, battered and bruised.

"Let me guess. You fell down another sinkhole. When will you stop getting yourself into trouble so often? I've had to repair you more times in one month than any other Autobot!" First Aid grumbled.

"Sorry. It's my job to scout out the distant sectors for damage assessment and possible trouble spots. There are reports of renegade Decepticons out there. It's my job to confirm if those reports are true or not." Hound sat down on a med table while First Aid gathered his tools. "Where's Ultra Rodimus? I have to report to him."

"He's in stasis until we can find a new source of energy for him. We don't have enough energon left for him to stay on-line. You'll have to report to Magnus. He's in his office."

"Fix me, and I'll go report."

First Aid muttered something about insane Autobots and trouble magnets as he set to work. Sandstorm watched for a moment, then glanced at the stasis pod that contained his "master", saluted the off-line bot, and walked out. He had things to do.

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Charr:

The Decepticon gestalt teams had gathered in Trypticon's throne room. None of the individual members knew what was going on.

"I demand to know why we were called here!" Motormaster snarled.

"Hold your temper," Onslaught snapped at him. "We'll find out soon enough!"

"I want some action!" Brawl yelled.

"Will you shut up?" Razorclaw hissed, flexing the claws of his lion form as if itching to use them on the loud-mouthed, hot-tempered Combaticon.

The teams sorted themselves out into their various groups, muttering amongst themselves. All of them wanted to know what was going to happen.

The door hissed open. Galvatron, followed by Scourge and Cyclonus, stalked into the room. The waiting teams fell silent, wondering what Galvatron was going to say.

"We are going to strike at the Autobots and destroy their Prime!"

"We already tried that!" Snap-Trap pointed out. "That overconfident Sixshot tried it! Ultra Rodimus destroyed him! What makes you think we'll have any better luck?"

"Sixshot was only one robot!" Galvatron roared. "I have a different plan!"

Everyone waited for him to elaborate.

"This is what we will do..."

To be continued...

A cliffhanger! You wanna know what Galvatron has up his sleeve, don't you? Send me reviews and I'll get the next chapter up and running as soon as possible!