Hello all! Welcome to June! It's stormy where I am (thunderstorms rule the city right now), and I had a great but very busy weekend, and here's another chapter for you all!
Megatron entered the war room at a dead run. He was aware Optimus was right behind him, and that Strika and his other generals were also either arriving or reporting in by comms.
"Report," he ordered.
"A large fleet of unfamiliar spaceships transwarped into the system," Linkup reported immediately. "They've already engaged our outer defenses. No demands, no attempts at communication yet."
Megatron glanced at his heir, but Optimus was studying the real-time battle table with narrowed optics. Megatron went to join him. As he did, Optimus snapped out a quick order to watch the back lines, they were shaky.
Megatron smiled. He always liked watching Optimus lead a battle in the simulations he'd done, and now he'd get to watch Optimus at work for real. Granted, he wasn't going to be the only one in charge, but if he had good ideas, Megatron wouldn't hesitate to use them.
There were times when Megatron could only thank the Allspark for the gift it had given him. He shook his head sharply. Now wasn't the time.
"Megatron," Optimus said, once he realize Megatron was there. "They're organic. The maneuvers they're using aren't as precise as a mechanical beings would be, and they're less predictable."
Megatron nodded. "You're sure?"
"As sure as I can be. They might be a technorganic race, but I doubt it."
"Very well."
"I think we should try to communicate, then we'll wipe them out if we need to," Optimus said. He paused, shook his head once with a strange frown, then refocused. "We can try to negotiate their surrender, and they can join the Empire."
"They 'warped in and started attacking."
"They may think we're someone else," Optimus retorted.
"Who could confuse Cybertron for any other planet?" Megatron paused and commed Strika. "Watch their left flank, Strika," he said.
"I am, My Emperor," Strika responded.
Optimus smiled wryly. "Only one way to find out. And we do need to know why they attacked us, anyway."
Megatron snorted, but agreed. "We'll try. But I doubt it'll work."
Optimus shrugged. "So do I," he confessed. "But I'm curious as to what type of being just attacks like that."
"Hmmm," Megatron rumbled. "Linkup, try to contact them, I want them to surrender. Optimus, come over here, I want my heir at my side."
Optimus rounded the table obediently. They faced the communications screen and waited. "No response, Your Majesty," Linkup reported.
"Try again, once more. Then we destroy them, and see what we can learn from their corpses," Megatron ordered.
Optimus frowned in thought. "I don't recognize the ship design," he admitted. "But there's something familiar about it."
"I agree," Megatron said. "I suspect they back engineered their ships from some other race's."
Optimus made a quiet noise of understanding.
"They've responded!" Linkup called out. "Pulling them on the screen now."
Optimus straightened, and shifted slightly so he was in his proper position as Heir- to the right and only slightly behind Megatron.
Megatron scowled as the screen lightened, to reveal a warship bridge, staffed with an unfamiliar organic species. They were, like most spacefaring species, bipedal with grasping appendages that appeared multifunctional. They also had extremely long ears, and a strange facial shape that reminded Megatron of turbohounds. "Who are you and why have you attacked us?" Megatron barked out, before any of the organics could speak.
"You are now our property, robots," one of the organics said. "Stand down all foolish defenses and submit to your masters. All robots must be brought to heel or destroyed. Our Gods demand it."
Optimus shifted very slightly. Megatron settled his hand on Optimus' shoulder. "I think not," Megatron snarled. "We are no one's property, we are the Cybertronian Empire, and you will regret attacking us."
"All rogue robot will be destroyed, those that can be reprogrammed to serve us will be spared," the organic said. "We will not stop until all mechanical beings are brought under their true masters. Our Gods demand it."
Optimus sighed. "Religious fanatics," he muttered.
"Linkup, order the fleet to stop holding back," Megatron ordered. "Your gods are nothing to us, organic. We'll learn who you are from your ships and corpses." He gestured and Linkup cut the communication.
Optimus scowled. "I'm not familiar with their species," he admitted. "Even though I've been looking into organic species lately."
"Lately?" Megatron rumbled. "You've been fascinated by organics since I adopted you. And no, I don't recognize them either. I'm calling in the diplomatic corps, let's see if they're a known species."
Optimus smiled at that. Megatron could only assume it was for one of two reasons. If Megatron hadn't adopted Optimus, he would have recommended that Optimus become a diplomat, his heir loved talking to other beings. Or, because of who the corps was likely to send to brief them. Megatron bet that it was both reasons.
There was a brief flare of light from the war table. "After the battle is over," Optimus suggested. He bent over the table and began to make suggestions.
Megatron laughed and agreed. "Yes, after the battle. And then we'll go on the offensive, once we know where they came from. Slipstream," he added, activating the comms. "Watch the corner closest to Luna 2, they're maneuvering for something back there."
"General Strika," Optimus added. "I suggest you use a variant of the Onslaught Offense, their shielding doesn't overlap enough to effectively ward against it."
"I see that, my Prince," Strika said. "What about a Doomspan Maneuver?"
"From what we can see, they can reinforce up the middle, the ships would be overwhelmed," Optimus said.
"Understood," Strika replied. "Lugnut, clear the way for a Onslaught Offense!" she ordered, still on comms.
Megatron knew they had it well in hand, and nodded at Optimus to continue. This battle would be over soon, and then they could start collecting information.
He put in a quick comm to the diplomats, and informed them of the situation, and the requests for information.
He smiled. It looked like they'd be able to expand the empire before too long. A religious race like this might not be much use, but their planets might have useful raw materials and perhaps some interesting energy sources.
And... so. Who are these folks? Um. Well, at least it's not Quintessons?
Don't worry, I will eventually explain them, where they come from, and what's to be done with them. Yes, they look like big, upright dogs. I picture them as looking a bit like basset hounds, with floppy ears and a mournful face, but you can imagine whatever you like.
Next chapter... soonish
