Original Sins

A Transformers: Armada Story

By William Rendfeld

Space is vast, empty, and a constant symbol of the unknown. No one person could know of everything that was out there. To catalogue everything in the universe would take longer than the universe itself would exist, and would be a daunting task for any race, especially those as long lived as Cybertronians. Fortunately, the inhabitants of Cybertron didn't need to know of everything that existed in the universe, making their task of exploring it far easier. Hundreds of explorer vessels were at work throughout the Milky Way galaxy, charting the various star systems and visiting worlds near and far from Cybertron each megacycle seeking resources, trade, and knowledge. They knew full well that this was a risky business, but they were also quite aware of the fact that, as many had said before, risk was their business. Many went to serve. Most went to do a job. A few here and there went for adventure. The trouble with adventure, however, was that more often than not, those who seek it tend to get more than they bargained for.

A light chime signaling that recording had commenced, the Autobot gave a light groan and began his report. "Begin recording Prime Log, time from departure cycle .2. Cybertron Defense Force vessel Axalon. Rodimus commanding." He leaned back in his seat in frustration. "It's been the better part of a stellar cycle since we've left Cybertron and in all that time, we've encountered nothing. At least, nothing to send a message back home about. Each system that we've visited has turned up dry, with no energon deposits, few lifeforms, and absolutely nothing of major consequence. The Omnicons are getting restless. Frankly, so am I. Granted, we're getting towards the edge of known space, but you'd think we'd find something unknown before now. And if we don't find something in the next system…I don't know. End log." Another chime signaling that the log had been recorded, the Axalon's commander shook his head. "They said everything about adventure, excitement, the final frontier. They said nothing about the long periods of boredom." A chime sounding from his door, he answered, "Come in."

The doors slid open, and a femme with mostly white, black and pink armor and the Autobot symbol on her chest entered. "You sound like you're having fun."

His answer was as sarcastic as her comment. "You think?" Getting control of himself, the cavalier turned serious. "I don't know about you, Arcee, but I never signed up for this to be bored out of my wits."

A smirk formed on Arcee's face. The pair were in similar positions onboard, though where Rodimus commanded the vessel itself, she was in charge of the Omnicon contingent, tasked with setting down on a planet or asteroid and scouting for potentially useful resources for mining. Whereas the cavalier was fairly new to his position, however, she'd been at work for a long time, and knew exactly what to do in this case. "Word of advice, Rodimus? Never complain about boredom. The nano-klik you start, and the universe will suddenly make things much less boring."

The younger mech raised an optic ridge and smiled. "You think it'll be fun?"

A laugh. "You wish. I remember this one time on Pz-Zazz…"

Arcee's anecdote was interrupted as a communications line was routed in, the ship's first officer delivering news. :"Rodimus, we've picked up something ahead, some kind of signal on the long range sensors. You may want to get up here.":

Not at all pleased about having been proven right, Arcee crossed her arms as she regarded the ship's commanding officer. "See what I mean?"

Rodimus simply flashed an eager, boyish smile before answering the line. "On my way, Tow-Line." Rising from his seat, he gestured for Arcee to follow him out of his office. "Hey, at least it's something interesting."

"I want all our forces put on full alert." Looking over his gathered subordinates in his small office, Ultra Magnus was anything but pleased. "After what happened to Nebulos, I don't want to take any chances."

"Assuming that information is correct, anyway." Looking less than thrilled about what they had been told, King Atlas kept his optics on his superior. "With all due respect, Magnus, Overcast doesn't exactly have a stellar track record, and I suspect that more than a few of Skyfall's circuits are missing, if not fried."

"Me not disinclined to agree." Crossing his arms and sounding hesitant in his words, Grimlock continued. "That Nebulos gone obvious, but where other proof?"

The interim Autobot leader looked at both, having a hard time arguing with them. "You might just be right. Then again, you could be wrong. Optimus wouldn't take that risk, and neither will I." He then turned to face the security commander and intelligence chief. "Checkpoint, Bumblebee, I want your commands prepped and ready regardless. It wouldn't surprise me if Megatron's forces here on Cybertron decided to take advantage of this chaos."

The ivory Autobot glanced to his smaller counterpart, neither pleased at that idea. "I won't promise miracles, but we'll keep our optics open. Admittedly, things have been extremely quiet of late, but that's no guarantee of trouble."

"No, but that doesn't mean it won't come. Dismissed." The various department heads departed, Atlas with a foul expression on his faceplate, with Grimlock remaining behind. The Dinobot commander looked less than thrilled, even as his superior cast his optics on him. "Something you'd like to add in private?"

"Me still have misgivings. Overcast have good record, but Skyfall wanderer – little known about him. No way to verify their intel."

The Wreckers commander nodded solemnly. "We may not be able to verify it, but can we risk them being wrong?" He sat down. "Besides, Nebulos is gone, simple as that. Can you think of any explanation for its destruction? One that accounts for all those eyewitness reports, and that flight record?"

"Flight records can be falsified. And eyewitness testimony not always reliable, even with Cybertronian memory."

"True, but do you honestly think Overcast or Skyfall would do something like this? Skyfall aside, Overcast had charges of insubordination, not falsifying records. And that's a sin that all of us have been guilty of at one time or another."

A nod – he couldn't deny that. "Me not saying we shouldn't be on guard. Still, while me willing to give Overcast benefit of doubt, friend not quite earn trust yet."

Magnus sighed. Grimlock had a one-track processor, and tended to focus on one thing at a time with most of his tasks – an asset in battle, but sometimes dangerous outside of it. "Well, if you're going to keep an optic on them, just be careful about it, hm? Don't have Sludge do it."

A laugh. "Me know Sludge strength not in stealth. Got Swoop handling it – him more discreet."

His peace said, Grimlock turned and left, his superior leaning back in his seat. He had to admit that a point was made – Swoop was discreet, by anyone's standards. He just hoped that the Dinobots wouldn't go too far before the cycle was over.

"No offense, Tow-Line, but I think you're being a little paranoid about all this." Glancing at the sensor screen uneasily, his every word punctuated with a flash of his 'ears', Downshift looked to his superior and spoke with quiet respect. "I mean, this could be anything."

"A word of free advice, lad." Slowly stepping up to the pair and towering over them both, Bulkhead tilted his head at the younger mech with a stern look. "If one of your elders thinks there's reason to worry, you'd best listen to 'em."

"Bulkhead's right, kid." Tilting his head at the monitor, Tow-Line pressed, "If this is what I think it is, then we've got ourselves one big slagging problem."

Downshift looked as if he wanted to argue with them, but restrained himself. The ship's engineer and medic, he tended to hold himself from action unless he knew the odds. Once those odds were known, however, he tended to dive right in with gusto. Even so, he doubted this signal was anything important, even with the much older Autobots insisting otherwise. His thoughts were interrupted as their commanding officer stepped onto the command deck, Arcee in tow. "Someone care to tell me what's up?"

Gesturing to the monitor on his console, Tow-Line continued, "Like I said, we've picked up a faint energy signature on the long-range sensors. Brought up a match in the computer archives. It's a Quint signal."

The femme looked at him in surprise. "The Quintessons? You're kidding."

"I wish I was." Additional records were brought up, matches verified. "The energy signature matches those from the ships they left behind on Cybertron after the First Great War. For all we know, this is a derelict or something, but…"

"How distant?"

Tow-Line looked at his commander in surprise, but nonetheless answered. "Less than half a parsec. What do you plan to do about it?"

A grin spread across the cavalier's face. "I say we get a confirmation."

Bulkhead quirked an optic ridge at the younger mech. More than old enough to remember the First Great War, he'd seen action against the Quintessons and knew full well how dangerous they were. "Rodimus, we don't know where that signal's coming from or why it's being put out. We're better off contacting Cybertron about this, calling in some support."

"And for all we know, this is a derelict or some old satellite or something just as harmless. I don't want the Wreckers rolling out after us just for a wild kremzeek chase." Making his way to the lower part of the command deck, Rodimus continued. "I also don't want anyone back at Autobot Command frying my chassis over wasting their time. We're getting confirmation for this thing first. If it's a bit of space junk, we collect it and analyze it. Otherwise, we call in the cavalry." The four Autobots looked among themselves uneasily as their commander approached the helmsman. "Wing Saber, lock onto those coordinates and lay in a course."

Arcee could feel the ship shifting course underneath the deck plating, accelerating in order to catch up to the signal's source. "Just so you all know, I've got a bad feeling about this."

"It could be nothing. I mean, the Quintessons sold a lot of tech, and their stuff was made to last."

"Like us, lad?" Downshift quieted, Bulkhead continued, "They've also been off the radar since we beat 'em off Cybertron. For all we know, we've stumbled onto an invasion force, or some forgotten super weapon. Whatever we've found, we'd best be on our guard. No telling what demons we'll find ourselves stirring up."

Within a secluded room on the Axalon, a slender Autobot femme sat with her legs crossed, her optics dimmed in meditation. The lights were turned low, both to conserve power and to help her concentrate. She needed to focus on what she was doing, needed to keep her processor on the task at hand, because if she didn't…

"Trying to destroy me are you?"

A sad frown crossed her face. "If I could do that, I would have done it long ago."

"I'm hurt. It's only thanks to me that you're still alive. Or don't you remember?"

"I remember." She remembered coming to, after seeing the destruction and havoc her other half had caused, the devastation left in her wake. "And that's why you can't get out. Not again."

"No cage can hold a beast forever."

The femme sighed solemnly, and her optics came alive. "I know." She turned and asked, "What do you think I should do, Nightwise?"

Standing atop her recharge unit was a small robotic owl, its large blue optics looking at her inquisitively. One of the last things she had of her past, Nightwise had been her constant companion for all her cycles. As comforting as it was, however, the owl's only answer was to turn its head to the right, blink, and then chirrup.

Talon sighed and gave a sad smile. "Like answers were going to come that easily."

A second chime started up. :"Talon, you online?": Downshift's voice was loud and clear, sounding somewhat more upbeat than before. :"We're coming in on a target. Rodimus wants you on the command deck.":

"On my way." She rose to her feet and gestured to her companion. "Come on, Nightwise; let's see what the big boss is up to."

With a chirrup, the robotic owl jumped into the air and landed on Talon's shoulder as she exited her quarters and went off, her own mind more than anxious about current events. She hoped that whatever they'd found was something minor, because if it led to a combat situation, well, there was no guarantee that the results would be pleasant.

"We're coming up on the signal's origin point now." The ship dropping in speed and slowing, Wing Saber looked up from his console, surprised at what he was laying optic on. "Whoa. I'm starting to see why we aren't too fond of these guys."

"There's a lot of reasons why we aren't fond of the Quints, lad. I'll tell you some stories later." His optics fixed on the screen, Bulkhead added, "But this is definitely going on the list."

Hanging in space before their ship was a large planetoid, impossibly proportioned and shaped. Odd, wave-like projections branched out from the planet's egg-shaped emerald core, sticking out in space like incomplete rings. Impact points and blast marks dotted the planetoid's surface, giving the entire form a look that immediately made one think of a scorched and tarnished ball.

"Can you get sensor readings from that thing?"

Tow-Line's hands danced across his console at his commander's order. "Minimal energy readings and little if any sign of life. It's almost like the planet's dead."

"There's still an energy reading, though." Curiosity getting the better of him, Rodimus gave an eager grin as he looked at the screen. "And I'd like to know just what caused all that damage myself." At the silence from his crew, he asked, "Isn't anyone else at least a little interested in what's happened here?"

The operations officer's answer was blunt. "With all due respect? No. In fact, I'd be happy to go ahead and finish for whoever started this job."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Glancing up from the weapons console, Cliffjumper chimed in eagerly. "One spread of torpedoes and we can call this thing space junk like it deserves."

"As pleasant as that sounds, I'd prefer we know what caused all that damage myself." Tow-Line turned to face Bulkhead in surprise as the elder Autobot explained his reasoning. "If something can put that much of a dent into Quintessa, what do you think it could do to Cybertron?"

"And if nothing else, this'll make the scientists happy." Their commander turned back to the helmsman. "Wing Saber, plot a landing vector somewhere on the central core. Maybe we can find out what happened here."

The course was laid in, but Wing Saber was quick to note, "Just as long as whatever happened to them doesn't happen to us."

"And once we land, we'll send out landing parties and start surveying the planet." Turning to the femme, Rodimus suggested, "Arcee, you'd better get your team together."

"Sounds like I don't have much choice." She made her way to the lift, giving the others a small look that silently said 'I told you so' before stepping off the bridge.

That done, Downshift looked over the planet curiously. "That can't be a natural planetoid. They don't form that way."

"Of course they don't. The Quints altered it to suit their own twisted ends when they started expanding, part of an effort at psychological warfare. Any race got close enough to it, and they'd get creeped out, just like us. Just one way to make sure no one invaded their homeworld." Despite its location having been unknown for ages, Bulkhead had no problem guessing what it was. "Keep yourselves wary, mechs. We've just found Quintessa."

"So, what now?" Looking at his partner curiously, Overcast spoke a little more loudly. "Skyfall! What now?!"

"Oh, sorry old friend." Shaken out of his thoughts, the smaller Autobot turned away from his view of Iacon, one of the best as they were near the top of the Tower of Pion. "Truthfully, I do not know. On Nebulos there was meant to be information, a clue to what I seek. Obviously, we arrived far too late to make use of it. The planet is gone, and any information we could have found there is gone along with it."

Noticing his friend's growing pessimism, the larger of the two countered, "Assuming we were the only ones to get off the planet."

"Even so, we assume that the information I sought, the individuals I sought, escaped as we did. And if they had, they would have come here, or otherwise made contact with an outpost or facility elsewhere in Alliance territory." With a huff, the scholar turned back to the balcony and looked over the city. "You know as well as I that I've long thought that I possessed a great destiny, a role yet to be followed in the grand scheme. I know that it is connected to Cybertron, to the battle which has yet to be fought between Primus and Unicron, but beyond that, I remain in the dark. Had we gotten there soon enough, we could very well have gotten answers, but now, I have no idea where to go."

Despite wanting to help his partner, Overcast could think of nothing to say. Skyfall was right, and odds were better that the persons or information they had been looking for was lost with Nebulos' destruction. He leaned against one wall, wishing he could come up with some way to help, when the problem was solved for him. "Skyfall, yes?" The pair turned to find themselves in the company of a Decepticon roughly Skyfall's size and with a similar color scheme, albeit with grey being his dominant color rather than deep blue. "I think I might be able to help you."

Despite his larger partner's surprise, Skyfall turned to face their visitor, surprised by his similar colors. "And you are?"

"My name is Landquake, and I think the two of us have something in common." The Decepticon approached and elaborated. "I heard about your ship being the only one to return from Nebulos, and looked into your file. You are not the only one with the ability to manipulate energon, or the only one to wonder why. You're just the only one of us who had the courage to venture off-world for their answers. Perhaps you should have looked closer to home."

A little surprised, Overcast looked at the newcomer and asked, "Wait, you can manipulate energon same as Skyfall? And you didn't try to seek him out?"

"I thought myself the only one with such abilities. The Omnicons can handle it, but I can shape it, empower myself and use it as armament whenever I need. When I found out that someone else had similar powers, I thought it wise to find them and share what I've learned." Anticipating the next question, Landquake elaborated. "You went to the stars to seek answers. I've explored Cybertron for mine, and my powers led me to find something of great importance, something I think is connected to us."

A small part of the scholar wondered if this was some sort of trap. He barely knew this Decepticon, after all, and there was every chance he was being played. Still, something in his spark told him to trust this mech, and besides, he couldn't pass up this chance if it led to some answers. "Can you show it to us?"

"Of course. Please, follow me." The tank turned to lead the jet back to the central lifts, gesturing for them to follow.

While Skyfall was quick to follow their new acquaintance, Overcast hung back. As curious as he was, he wasn't too eager to jump in and follow a Decepticon he barely knew for a klik. Still, watching his friend go, so eager to get his answers, he knew that he had to follow, if only to back the little jet up. He strode after them, hoping that Landquake was indeed on the level. Otherwise, they'd all regret it.

"After some heavy sensor scans, I've found the source of the transmission at a point within the planet itself." Sensor readouts illustrating his points via holographic displays, Tow-Line continued to elaborate to the rest of the Axalon's crew. "Beyond this, there are minimal energy readings. The planet's all but dead."

Cliffjumper gave a bored grunt. "Sounds boring. Where's the fun in poking around somewhere half-dead?"

The gunner was immediately chided by the eldest among them. "Don't get so smug, Cliffjumper. You can't always judge something by its looks. The Quints had a lot of tricks up their sleeves back in the old days and for all we know, this might be one of 'em."

"Whether they're playing roboto-possum or not, the Quintessons are the oldest threat Cybertron's had, and definitely one of our biggest." Stepping forward and addressing his crew as the projectors shut down, Rodimus issued orders. "We've found their homeworld. I say we make certain that they're incapacitated, or at least that they won't be bothering us for a while. We'll split into three groups. One will consist of me, Downshift, Bulkhead and Talon – we'll head for the source of the energy transmissions, see if we can get to it. The second will be the Omnicons – you'll be tasked with survey and salvage duty. Everyone else will remain here on the ship to coordinate the other teams, protect the ship and serve as backup, just in case."

Not particularly optimistic about finding any easy method of ingress into the planet, Downshift nonetheless asked the obvious question. "And assuming one of us actually finds something, what do we do then?"

"Contact the other team and the ship. After that, the two groups will gather wherever the 'something' is found and examine it." A soft thud went through the ship, signaling their landing. "That's our cue, mechs. Everyone remember where we parked." As the gathered crew broke up into their appointed groups and made their way to the lifts, Rodimus stopped one member of the crew. "Talon, wait a nano. Listen, before we left, Scavenger…"

"It's alright, Rodimus." The femme flashed a reassuring smile. "I'll be okay. I have the three of you looking out for me, right? If anything happens, I'll deal with it. Promise."

Rodimus looked at her critically, having not gotten too many details about her from her mentor beyond the need to supervise her, but nonetheless relented with a smile. "Alright. Just be careful."

Talon grinned. "Aren't I always?"

Standing atop a ruined tower on the surface of Quintessa, a large form stood vigil, having watched from the shadows as the Axalon slowly descended. His black and blue armor glistened in the twilight, while several forms congregated around him. Prey had arrived. The swarm was gathering, and a feast was about to begin.

His arms crossed as he stood upon a balcony on the Decagon, Grimlock's optics remained fixed upon the horizon, one digit absent-mindedly tapping against his elbow impatiently. Soft footfalls told him he was no longer alone, and he turned to face his visitor. "Wondered when you show up."

"Given all that I've heard, I thought it wise to seek you out and give you my advice, whether wanted or not." Tall and lithe in comparison to his former protégé, Skydive was one of the few remaining techno-organics on Cybertron with a position of authority in any faction, due mostly to his having commanded and trained Grimlock long ago. The two could not be more different, however – while he had picked up his teacher's lessons on strategy, the current Dinobot commander preferred to be blunt rather than use Skydive's subtle and often flowery language. "What I'm about to recommend is difficult, but step back a moment and reconsider your doubts on Skyfall. He's no threat, and I doubt he would lie about anything that he's told."

A grunt. "Him wanderer. No ties, no loyalty. And Overcast been with him for vorns. How we know them not lying?"

An acknowledging tilt of the head. "We don't, but better to err on caution's side, than to find oneself with a sore hide."

A groan at the limerick. "Skydive, me value input, but please, save poetry for when you with Decepticon radio host." A comm.-line caught his attention, and he answered, glad for the distraction. "Here. What going on Swoop?"

:"I've caught sight of something you might want to know about. Looks like Skyfall and Overcast have found themselves with interesting company, a Decepticon by the name of Landquake.":

A quirked optic ridge – Grimlock of course knew the Autobot by that name in Checkpoint's command, but any Decepticons with it were unfamiliar to him. "Record?"

:"Nothing criminal, and no obvious connection to Megatron. According to his dossier, he worked in the energon refineries in Kalis. But there's got to be some reason why they're running around with him. Want me to follow?":

"Yes. Me get rest of unit, meet up with you."

As the line cut off, Skydive sighed and shook his head. "I suppose there's no way to convince you that you may be exaggerating things, or simply want an excuse for some vengeance on behalf of a fallen friend?"

"Lots of friends gone thanks to Nebulos' loss. Dinobots just lost fewer friends than others." Making his way towards a nearby door, Grimlock barely looked back. "You coming?"

The techno-organic dinosaur shrugged. "Someone has to make certain you don't go too far. Besides, I can always use the exercise."

"Not that I don't mind the exercise, but what are we doing out here?" Trundling along behind Arcee and accompanied by the other Omnicons, Strongarm didn't mind work, vastly preferring it to combat, but preferred to be at work on a task that actually had firm goals and promised something with its accomplishment. Driving around aimlessly on Quintessa didn't promise anything beyond sight-seeing, and what sights he'd seen had failed to impress him. "There's little if any energon radiation out and nothing to mine. We might as well be running around in a scrap yard."

"We're out here because we were ordered out here, Strongarm." As much as she didn't like the orders she'd been given, Arcee wasn't in command, and Rodimus was. She'd been given orders, and she'd carry them out unless told otherwise, especially given the lack of risk to herself and her team. "And pray that all we run into is scrap. I'm in less of a mood to get into a fight than you are."

The group halted as they reached a destroyed structure, its members transforming. "Well forgive me for wanting things the hard way, Chief, but I'm looking forward to a scrap." Gesturing with his cannon arm, Offshoot continued, "Bad enough we were on that ship with nothing to do, but now we're on the Quintesson homeworld with even less to do. I could use something to keep from going out of my mind with boredom."

Near identical to Offshoot in build, Signal Flare chuckled. "I'd be careful what I say, Offshoot. Otherwise, you might find yourself in trouble. Like you said, Quintesson homeworld, and they tended to be tricky."

"Everyone, please." Raising her arms and getting her team back on task, the lone femme looked about to make certain she had their attention. "Let's save our bickering for later, hm? We've got a job to do, and this place has been putting chills up my spinal struts since we found it, so the sooner we finish debris analysis, the better. Strongarm, Signal Flare, with me checking over the wreckage; if we're lucky, we can salvage something out of this mess. Offshoot, keep guard with Skyblast; if anything comes up, I want to hear about it." She clicked on her radio and looked upwards towards their lone flier. "You got that, hothead?"

The grumble in the flier's voice was clear at the other end. :"Yeah, I hear you.":

The femme smirked, certain that Skyblast would rather be swooping through the abandoned buildings or taking the odd potshot than keeping watch. "Then no wandering off this time, hm?" She switched to another line. "Rodimus, we're in position here. How are things at your end?"

"We're making our way towards the source of the energy emissions as we speak." Talon and Bulkhead maintaining speed above him and Downshift, Rodimus continued on his way down an old, disused road long in need of repair. "Keep me posted if you find anything really interesting, okay?"

:"Trust me, you'll be the first to know. Arcee out.":

"I don't get why four of us were needed for this." All too aware that the veteran helicopter was paying attention, the young engineer elaborated, "I mean the planet's all but dead, right? No chance of anything coming after us, so smaller teams…"

Bulkhead quickly answered him. "The rules exist for a reason, lad. Squads are no less than four members, so individual mechs know that someone's watching their aft. And just because we haven't found anyone doesn't mean no one's here. These are the Quints we're talking about, and trust me, they're plenty dangerous, not to mention stubborn."

"What I don't get is what caused all this devastation. Granted, we haven't had trouble with them since around the time Megatron rebelled, and this could explain it, but who attacked them and why?" Rodimus couldn't help but be a little curious given their circumstances, and looked forward to finding out the answers. "I doubt they're still here, given all this mess, but still, that's a big question."

Downshift was less than eager to find out. "Just as long as no one else is out here either."

A cynical laugh from the helicopter. "Wouldn't count on it."

"Whoa, guys, I've got something!" Talon came to a sudden halt and transformed, her VTOL engines allowing her a graceful landing while her comrades stopped and did likewise. "I've got a small energy signature not to far away, due east and closing in on us!"

The four armed themselves as a low chattering sound similar to common insects reached their audials, each one taking a compass point and keeping their optics open for the approaching unknown. Suddenly, the sound stopped, and a mess of rubble was blown away, each member of the quartet taking aim but letting the dust settle before firing. His optics wide with surprise, Downshift asked aloud, "What in Primus' name is that supposed to be?"

Before them, having emerged from a hole in the ground, stood a strange mechanical form that looked like a cross between a machine and an insect, instantly bringing to mind the 'spider tanks' used on other worlds for traversing rugged terrain. The machine had four long, pointed legs emerging from a thin body, one end with a visored head resembling a cockpit while the other had a long cannon extending up and over it like the tail of a scorpion. Its black and yellow armor glistened in the limited light, making it stand out all the more.

"Ever see anything like that before, Bulkhead?"

"Afraid not, Rodimus, but no one act hostile."

Slightly less calm than her superiors, Talon kept her machine gun pointed and ready. "Something tells me an energon goodie and the Universal Greeting won't help us here. Besides, that thing looks creepier than a Terrorcon with overbite."

With a chattering noise, the unknown machine charged towards them with a jump, prompting the four to fire on instinct. The drone burst apart instantly, its fragments falling to the ground and scattering in every direction. Slightly less scared now that it had been destroyed, Downshift picked up one of the larger bits of debris, a complete arm, and gave it a quick scan. "This is interesting. I'm reading transformation joints in this thing. Looks like the Quintessons were trying to figure out what made us tick, replicate it at a smaller scale than they did with the Omega Sentinels. Bipedal, this thing would probably be as agile as one of us."

As the lone femme busied herself with an explosive plucked from one wing, Rodimus prompted the engineer. "Anything else you can tell us about that thing?"

"Yeah – this thing has fairly thick armor, probably for environments rich in radiation. I wouldn't be surprised if there are other variants."

Bulkhead quickly joined in with a guess of his own. "And considering the Quints' fondness for mass production, there's probably a lot more where this came from."

"Well, let's make sure they don't come too quickly. Fire in the hole!" Her comrades backed away in surprise as Talon set the charge on her explosive and tossed it into the hole the drone had emerged from, stepping back slightly and waiting. With a small bang, the device exploded, gobs of adhesive glue forming inside the tunnel and moving in all directions like a spider's web, effectively blocking the tunnel. At their surprised looks, she explained, "Glue bomb. I don't know how far down the tunnel goes and the debris isn't thick enough to block it, so this seemed like a good compromise."

The engineer looked at her with some appreciation, the veteran with frustration, and her commanding officer with a mix of both. "We'll talk about that later. Just warn us the next time you try something like that, hm?" He bent down and gathered up some more of the large chunks of wreckage. "Let's keep these for analysis after we've gotten back to the ship, just in case they decided to sell them. They aren't all that smart, but the more we know, the better." He then keyed in his comm.-line. "Tow-Line, Arcee, my team's just had a close encounter with some sort of drone weapon. We took it down easy enough, but there's probably more of 'em out here, so keep on the lookout."

"Thanks for the hot tip, Rodimus, but unfortunately, we've already met some of them!" The operations officer was feverishly punching in commands to his console, sirens blaring throughout the ship as a number of the drones approached their position, coming up on sensors as one massive swarm. "Wing Saber, get us airborne! Cliffjumper, I want autoguns online, stat!"

The engines powered on, the ship's pilot swiftly gaining controls. "Working as fast as I can, boss!" As glad for excitement as he was, Wing Saber was not interested in having the ship be torn apart by anything, let alone a mess of drones.

While his crewmates went to work, Cliffjumper quietly brought up the ship's weapons systems, the point defense guns already coming online. Where they were barely containing their panic, the young Autobot was glad for a little more action, eagerly watching as the drones approached firing range. "Come on, you little buggers! Hope you like eating plasma!"

Engines firing, the Axalon began to slowly rise from the planet's surface, its point defense systems coming online and taking aim at the approaching hordes of red, blue and yellow drones. Autoguns along the vessel's hull opened fire, tearing the drones apart like tinfoil. More still came, however, swarming around the ship despite the threat of the weapons raining down from above. Many even attempted to jump onto the ship, most being shot down instantly with the lucky few who made it latching onto the Axalon's outer hull and wearing it away with acidic bursts. Those lucky few, however, soon found themselves with another problem as they were blasted off the ship.

"Yee-hah!" With a joyful laugh, Skyblast tore onto the scene, bright red energon weaponry forming at critical points on his frame and guns firing on the drones, blowing away those on the hull and blasting aside those attempting to reach it. "I knew this'd be a fun day!"

While their comrade started the party off, the remaining Omnicons arrived on the scene, energon weaponry forming on them as Arcee transformed and opened fire with her bow. "Omnicons, hurt them!"

"Done and done!" While not showing as much gusto as his teammate, Offshoot nonetheless rose to the challenge, a massive energon buzz saw forming on one arm and ripping through the nearest drone before finding another. "By the time we're done, these things will be little more than scrap metal!"

Strongarm soon joined him with axe in hand, Signal Flare joining their leader in covering them with blasts from his arm cannon. As many drones as they managed to destroy, however, more ended up attracted to them due to their actions, the growing horde turning its attention away from the rising ship and towards the small unit.

:"Arcee, this is Rodimus! Please tell me you guys aren't in too far over your heads!":

A trio of rounds taking out an equal number of drones, the femme was nonetheless able to answer her comm.-line. "We're holding them at bay for the time being, but we can't hold them off forever!" Another salvo destroyed yet more, a few getting too close ending up the victims of one of her arm-mounted guns. "So feel free to drop in whenever!"

"Roger that!" His team moving at full speed, the cavalier quickly issued orders. "Downshift, you stick with me here on the ground! Bulkhead, you've got that combat pod! Fly on ahead and give them what help you can! Talon, you go with him, but take a different route!"

The femme sounded less than pleased at these orders. "Rodimus, I –!"

"The more we can divert their attention, the better! Now go!"

Talon considered giving further protest, but opted against it, instead veering off and making her own way back to the ship. "Yes sir!"

"Alright then! Autobots, roll out!"

Boosters on Bulkhead's combat pod came alive, and the elder Transformer rocketed forward, shooting ahead of his commander and subordinate. A small distance away, Talon took a more roundabout route back to the ship, thinking for a moment that things may be better this way before being forced to the ground by fire from drones surrounding her in nearby buildings. She transformed and landed, the now-familiar low chattering filling her audio receptors as she readied her weapons. "Aw slag…"

As the gathering swarm of drones continued to converge on the Axalon, Bulkhead landed softly on the outskirts, transforming and combining with the engine pod mounted on his underside. Twin gun batteries dropped into position as two larger arms, each containing several smaller guns, moved in synch with his own arms. Without another word, he opened fire, tearing apart several drones and leaving them as little more than scrap. As a few turned and approached him, he'd quietly bat one aside while continuing to engage its comrades, weapons blazing.

A far distance behind, Rodimus swiftly went over his crews' personnel files in his processor. "Downshift, you have Powerlinx capability, right?"

The engineer swerved slightly in surprise before regaining control. "Yes, but I don't think that'd really help. We need numbers here, not boosted firepower!"

The Mini-Cons' self-imposed exile from Cybertron hadn't halted the development of Powerlinx technology. In truth, it had ended up being scaled up, utilizing lessons learned from the procedures that allowed for Optimus Prime and Jetfire to combine. A number of Autobots, and even a few odd Decepticons, were built in such a way that they had a universal locking mechanism in their bodies which would allow them to combine with another Cybertronian with similar tech, dramatically increasing their combat capabilities and allowing for two soldiers to go into a combat situation as one. It hadn't become commonplace, but like many other variants of the original tech, it was nonetheless common enough to be a viable tactic at times.

Less concerned about firepower than he was speed, the cavalier nonetheless was fixed on the idea. "Well, we're going to need to move fast if we're going to do any serious damage! You ready?!"

Still doubtful, but not about to be last to a fight, the younger mech gave the affirmative. "Yes sir!"

The two swiftly transformed back to robot mode and skidded to a halt before transforming again. Rodimus shifted and changed into a bulky upper body, while Downshift converted to a pair of long, slender legs, the two combining together into one larger robot form before speeding onto the field. Both his weapon and his subordinate's in hand, Rodimus darted among the gathered drones, blowing them apart with rapid bursts of weapon fire. He soon reunited with Bulkhead, combining fire against the approaching swarms.

"No offense to your strategy lad, but I don't think this is helping much!" Slamming two drones into the ground while his guns fired, the veteran cut through those that got close enough for his rotors. "These things just keep coming!"

Guns blazing, the younger mech called back as he destroyed one drone that had emerged from hiding, "Well, I'm open to suggestions!"

As the other Autobots continued battling the drones, Talon looked about uneasily, her gun held firmly if worriedly in her left hand, a glue bomb in her right, her sensors strained. Despite her best efforts, her fluid pumps were beating faster and faster, only accenting her own worry. Directly behind her, something burst from the wreckage. She turned, saw the drone, and opened fire, blasting it apart then tossing her glue bomb to prevent more from coming. More did come, squirming through the small spaces left in the lattice-like burst from the bomb but not getting through. They'd been stopped, for the time being.

But they weren't the only ones.

Additional drones burst through the ground, catching her attention as she opened fire again and again, swiftly rendered unable to use her bombs against them due to their increasing numbers. They were bursting into view through pre-dug tunnels faster than she could spot them, blast them or plug them. As much out of fear as determination, she yelled, "I can handle this! I can hold them back, I can stop them, I can… Aahh!"

Three drones jumped her at once, covering her beneath their black limbs. She couldn't help but panic. She wanted to run, wanted to retreat, wanted to fight back, but couldn't. There were too many, and they were closing in on her, and…

At that moment, Talon left, and another took over.

The drones that had covered her were blasted off. Her body rose to its full height, optics shifting from bright blue to a deep, cold purple as her coloring went from silver and lavender to midnight blue and bronze, the Autobot emblems on her wings fading to the point of nonexistence. As the drones attempted to charge her again, twin blades were deployed from her wings and into her hands, two being sliced apart and the third stabbed through its main body. "Well, what have we here?" She ripped the drone apart, and quickly noticed the newly arrived swarms. "More come to play? Fine – let's play."

Talon was gone. Darkwing was online, and she was going to have some fun.

"I don't get it!" Looking away from the weapons monitors and glad for the friend-or-foe systems, Cliffjumper called out to the other two Autobots remaining on their ship. "These things just came out of nowhere, and they're still coming! How?!"

"Something's gotta be attracting them here, but it'd take something big, an energy field that could be picked up for kils…" Optics widening as the realization dawned on him, Tow-Line cursed aloud. "They're being drawn to us! We're the biggest energy source on this planet! Wing Saber, increase engine output, now!"

The pilot turned to the operations officer in surprise. "Are your processors fried?! Our mechs are still down there! And what makes you think these things can't fly?!"

"Because they're jumping onto the ship, not flying onto it! We get high enough altitude, we can orbital jump everyone out, but we can't do that if they keep crawling all over us, so get us airborne as fast as you can!"

Not about to argue given the circumstances, Wing Saber turned back to the console and started inputting commands. "Engines on full, altitude rising! Here's hoping we can get them out once we get ourselves out!"

"We're still giving them a better chance, fly-mech!" Turning back to the gunner, Tow-Line ordered. "Keep firing! Let's even the odds!"

As Rodimus, Bulkhead and the Omnicons continued their efforts, they noticed as the Axalon's engines charged up and the ship began to rise faster than before, climbing into the atmosphere until it was slowly going beyond their vision. Autogun fire continued to rain down from above, downing more than one drone as it rose further but becoming less effective as time went on.

"What the slag are they doing?!" Shifting to robot mode, Skyblast called down to his comrades, "They can't be leaving us behind!"

"They aren't!" Beginning to notice that the swarms were shrinking, Arcee realized, "These things were attracted to the ship! They're starting to disperse!"

"Then let's get the rest cleaned up, make sure they don't come back!" Offshoot cried, tearing into one of the remaining drones for good measure.

Elsewhere, Rodimus noticed much the same, looking up and finding the ship at increasingly greater distances. A small part of him realized that he should've told them to do exactly that when the attack started, and worry about beaming them out after getting to safety, but he'd berate himself later. He disconnected from his subordinate and ordered, "Downshift, stay with Bulkhead and help the Omnicons! They'll be beaming us up soon, and I'm not about to leave Talon behind!"

"Should you be going alone?!"

"Probably not, but I don't think I have much choice!" He transformed to vehicle mode and sped off, leaving the two to face the shrinking hordes.

The engineer almost followed, but Bulkhead called out as he kept up fire on the receding hordes. "Let him go, lad! If I'm right, we won't do much good anyway!"

"Talon, do you read me?! Talon, respond!" The twitching remnants of a drone crashing into the ground nearby as prompted Rodimus to get back to robot mode and flip over the wreckage, skidding to a halt and drawing his weapon. He quickly realized where the drone had come from, taking note of additional wrecks around him, and looked up at the cause of the devastation around him. "Aw frag."

Above him, what was Talon was flying high in the air, twin blades lancing from her arms on chains biting deep into a pair of drones as she tossed them about like morning stars, smashing into other drones and tearing them apart in the bargain. The last few were just within range of scurrying away before they were smashed to pieces, the remaining ones crashing to the ground as she landed and fixed her optics on the Autobot commander.

Not wanting to give her an excuse, Rodimus stored away his weapon and raised his arms. "That was all a bit excessive, Darkwing. Was it really necessary?"

The femme's response was cold and curt, accented by a cold smile. "Got the job done."

His optics narrowed. "So it did. Now let her go. Go back wherever you came from. She isn't in danger now, so she doesn't need you."

The two stared at one another uneasily, the mech hoping that his words had gotten through while the femme considering whether or not to rip apart the mech before her. She ultimately decided he wasn't worth it. "Since you asked so nicely." Her optics faded briefly and she collapsed to the ground, Darkwing's colors shifting back to Talon's as Rodimus rushed forward to take hold and slow her fall. As her Autobot emblem returned to normal, her optics returned to a normal blue, and Talon groaned and looked about at the devastation around them. "She got out, didn't she?"

Her commander helped her to her feet, even as both received the recall signal for the orbital jump. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

Her face grew downcast as they were beamed back to the Axalon. "Don't be. I'm to blame."

"You sure you know where you're going?" His optics sweeping over the tunnel they found themselves in, Overcast looked less than pleased at being underground, in part because of a flier's natural dislike of enclosed spaces and in part because of unfamiliarity.

"Certainly." Landquake pointed upwards at one corner of the tunnel. "I've left UV markers along the tunnel walls. Readjust your optics, and you should be able to spot them easily."

Most Cybertronians knew that beneath the surface of their planet was a network of access tunnels and passages. Few were aware of what purpose they might serve, or why they were in place as they predated the Quintessons, and even fewer knew the full layout of every single passage. The vast majority avoided them, save for the odd Matrix Templar who ventured to the Vector Sigma Chamber, and that was one of the known safe routes through the planet. The odd rumor sprang up about monsters living within the tunnels, ranging from hideous techno-organic mutants to massive energy-draining monsters, further encouraging their disuse.

Reflecting on all of that, the aerospace fighter nonetheless put those thoughts out of his mind and reset his optics. He soon caught sight of a small arrowhead marker on one of the sidewalls, right where their guide said it was. "Convenient."

"A necessity. Were it not for those markers, I would lose my own way down here." The Decepticon gave the third member of their party a small glance. "One of the weaknesses of an overactive imagination."

"Or a curious mind." More and more happy that he'd met the Decepticon, Skyfall caught up and asked. "I wonder Landquake, we have so many similarities. I never expected to run into another Cybertronian able to manipulate energon as we do – I'd always expected to find records before I found anything else. Do you suppose there are others out there like us?"

"It's possible, but don't feel too optimistic." He grew downcast as they continued on their way. "There are at least two Decepticons who share my body type, if not my abilities. They chose to join with Megatron, shortly before his uprising. I almost went with them, but my instincts told me otherwise. Given everything that's happened since, I suspect I'm better off for it."

Suddenly slightly more suspicious, Overcast asked, "You almost went with Megatron? Why just almost?"

"He talked of expansion, increasing our understanding of the universe and our presence in it. I liked the idea, and his talk appealed to me – were it not for my own tendency towards distraction, I'd have joined him immediately. After he slew Jhiaxus, however, I realized he wasn't interested in anything but conquest and control. If he'd wanted simple understanding, he wouldn't have been so quick to kill." Taking note of a UV marker, he pointed. "This way."

"So what they saying?"

Swoop cringed and reached for his audio receptors, then slipped off the amplifier around his head. Shaking his head to relieve the ringing, he turned to the Dimetrodon at his side. "Sludge, what did I tell you about speaking loudly while I'm listening in?"

Sludge turned downcast and apologetic. As powerful as he was in battle, the Dinobot had the mindset of a human child, in need of guidance and generally well-meaning, but often making small mistakes that would test patience. "Me sorry."

The Pteranodon found his frustration fading. More mature than Sludge, Swoop was an excellent flier and scout, and generally the most social of the bunch with those outside their group. Thus, he could pick up on more subtle emotional cues. "I know. Just be careful, alright?" Noticing Grimlock's interest in their conversation, he then explained in a slightly louder tone, "Landquake was just talking about UV markers – we can reset our optics to find them. He also mentioned some brief but long dead interest in Megatron's faction, but…"

"Well, that settles things!" Towering most of the other Dinobots save Skydive, Snarl was imposing even outside of battle due to his normal dour tendencies. Where the other Dinobots tended to enjoy their alternate modes, he disliked his Stegosaurus form, finding it ungainly and staying out of it as much as possible. Only in battle did he perk up, as he was able to vent his frustrations on something, but this didn't last long as he tended to swiftly tear apart whatever he targeted. "We catch up and we smash the 'Con and the other two!"

"Negative, Snarl. Not know what they down here for, and me want find out before do anything." Resetting his optics, Grimlock took note of the markers. "Besides, me not trust them, but that not mean they enemy." He called out to the rest of the unit. "Reset optics, mechs! Snarl and Skydive, take point with me! Triceratron, Sludge, cover rear! Swoop and Slapper, stick together and keep sensors…!" He paused, expecting a complaint from the unruly Triceratops among them. "No objection to guarding rear, Triceratron?"

Foul-tempered in general compared to even Snarl, Triceratron preferred to be out in front where his flames could do the most good. As much as he disliked following orders and missions that didn't involve combat, however, he tended to question them more often than not. Despite everything, however, there wasn't a mech that you wouldn't want to have your back when the chips were down. "Got more objections to being down here than I do guarding the rear, Grimlock. But I can't do much either way, can I?"

The Dinobot leader laughed. "No, can't." Waving the group onward, he called, "Let's move, mechs!"

As the seven Dinobots continued on their way, the youngest of their number looked to Swoop uneasily. Barely out of the Academy compared to the rest and extremely young, the mech had all but begged to be assigned to the Dinobots, even going so far as getting an Ankylosaurus alternate mode. Slapper was at times overeager, and mostly due to his greater intelligence in comparison to Sludge found an easier time getting along with then flier than most. "Why are we going after these guys? I mean, they haven't done anything, and a lot of mechs had sympathies to Megatron back in the day."

Skydive looked to the young mech with a smile as he flew overhead, flapping his wings to maintain altitude. Many a mech and femme were frightened as they saw him, his beast mode of a Quetzalcoatlus intimidating even without him being a techno-organic. "I'm afraid we're at the mercy of Grimlock's stubborn curiosity. Whatever their motivations, our quarry is up to something, and he won't rest until he knows what's going on. As for trying to dissuade him, you'd stand better luck carving your self-portrait into a block of tironium with a micro-scalpel."

Belching a small bit of flame to discourage further discussion, the Triceratops behind them asked gruffly, "You two mind cutting the gossip and moving along? We've got a job to do."

The two Dinobots silenced themselves, and the group continued on, Skydive joining his student and comrade in the lead as they continued following their quarry, unaware of where they were going but hoping for little trouble as they continued. If they got it, however, they wouldn't feel too put out about it.

Stepping onto the command deck and glad they were in a safe orbit, Rodimus turned to Tow-Line, hoping for something to ease the bad news. "Damage report?"

The mech gave a relieved sigh as he brought up screens showing where they'd been damaged. "The good news is we suffered little damage from the battle, thanks to timely intervention and all. Bad news is we got pretty well dinged up from the attack. Repairs aren't serious, but they'll still take time, a couple cycles at most. But once we're done, I recommend we get away from this misshapen rock and never come back."

Turning a little downcast, the cavalier noted quietly, "I might take you up on that."

Noticing a familiar tone in his commander's voice, the operations officer turned to face him. "Starting to feel the burdens of command, Rodimus?" Before his commander could answer, he continued, "Don't get down on yourself. Not a single mech in this crew is damaged or worse, and you had no way of knowing about those things before we set down. You couldn't have seen it coming."

The cavalier shook his head. "Doesn't mean I'm happy about all of this. It could've been a lot worse."

"But it wasn't, so don't go thinking about the maybes and what-ifs and such. Worry about the here and now, hm?" Going back to his work, he noted, "Speaking of, Downshift's analyzing some of the wrecks, right? That might help us figure out how to shut these things down, let us get to whatever that power source is."

"Let's hope that's the case, right?" Finding something a little more interesting in the here and now, he waved off to his subordinate. "Shoot me word if anything comes up, right?"

Glad that his commander was feeling better, Tow-Line smiled and assured him, "You'll be first to know."

Feeling a little better, Rodimus exited the command deck and found Talon waiting for him. She looked up at him with some joy. "Thanks, for coming after me and for getting her to back off."

"Hey, Scavenger asked me to look after you, and I don't want to disappoint him. You and I both know that glare of his can stop a chronometer and tear it apart." The two shared a laugh, feeling better afterwards. Getting a little curious, he asked, "So, you mind filling me in?"

The femme looked at him with surprise. "He didn't tell you? You didn't look in my file?"

"He didn't elaborate on where she came from, or what caused all this, and I figured it'd be more polite to just ask." He crossed his arms. "So, I'm asking. And if you're willing to explain things better, I'd like to hear it."

Talon took on a downcast look, then leaned against the bulkhead and began her story. "When I was younger, I had a sister, Steelclaw. She and I lived together in one of the Border territories for a while, before Megatron came calling. Some of his troops came, and gave us an offer. We could join them, or die. I fought back, and Steelclaw paid for it with her life. I tried to pay them back, avenge her, but I failed. Scavenger found me not long afterwards and took me in. Even with him, though, something happened back there. The psychologists think all the guilt and frustration just served as a catalyst for an underlying condition to take hold, give birth to another personality."

"Darkwing."

A nod. "Yeah. She comes out whenever I'm stressed, or terrified, or angry. It's like I slip into some deep, dark hole, and once I climb out, she's been there, and torn everything apart. I'm always afraid she'll come out and hurt someone, and there'll be nothing I can do."

Rodimus had heard stories about fractured spark syndrome, a condition that effectively caused two distinct personalities within one Cybertronian triggered by psychological trauma, even heard of one Autobot under Bumblebee's command who dealt with the condition, but he'd never met one in person. Under the circumstances, however, he didn't see much reason for pity. "Doesn't sound like there's much to do, but you're still doing well under the circumstances." He gave a comforting smile. "Scavenger would be proud."

The femme smiled back thankfully. "Thanks, Rodimus."

"Hey, I should be thanking you. You've given me a little perspective." The mech waved as he made his way towards a waiting lift, glad for the small talk. If she could get through her problems, after all, then how could he do any less?

Despite being alone, Talon found herself grinning a little. Her improved mood wouldn't make Darkwing go away – she didn't know what could – but for the first time since she'd been assigned to this ship and last seen her mentor, shed felt contented. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Downshift silently went over his scans of the salvaged Scrapmetal, getting more and more amused with each passing nano-klik before his commanding officer's entrance. "Perfect timing, boss-mech. I've got good news."

Hoping he was on a roll, Rodimus tilted his head to one side curiously. "You've found something?"

"A whole mess of something." The engineer punched up data on a waiting screen. "I've managed to get a look at these drones' operating systems. These 'Scrapmetals', as the Omnicons are calling them, aren't all that bright. They find an energy signature, and they attack it. Beyond that, they don't really have too many directives. I figure that's the big reason why they were made in mass quantities – doesn't matter what your forces are like, the more you've got, the better your chances, even if they're dumber than a box of chips."

A nod. "Not that smart. Fine, but that means there's probably something directing their actions somewhere."

"Maybe, maybe not. I also found a log in this one." He rapped his knuckles on the slagged drone. "Someone programmed in a general defensive order way back when, somewhere before Megatron's uprising. But their power source looks like it's tied into that energy source we found – take it out, and we'll shut the whole mess down at once, unless there's a backup command center in place."

"And said energy source is somewhere beneath the planet's surface, and we can't easily get to it." The cavalier crossed his arms. "Doesn't make this much easier."

"But something's gotta be transmitting to them, though. Find a big enough antenna, and it could lead us right to where we want to go." At his commander's surprised look, Downshift asked, "Worth a shot, right?"

Finding some merit in the idea and wishing they'd done it sooner, Rodimus activated his comm.-link. "Tow-Line, do a scan of the planet, see if there's a major transmission site somewhere."

:"On it.": Shortly afterwards, they got a response. :"We've got confirmation on a transmission tower roughly two kils from our landing zone. It's pumping out that energy signal we picked up, and seeing how close to the source it is, I'm not surprised we couldn't differentiate before getting this close. Got a plan, boss-mech?":

A grin formed on the cavalier's face. "Yeah. We're going to cut transmission."

In order to understand another individual's logic, one must understand their motivations. Know the individual, know their motivations, and you will have a better idea of what drives them and how to work with them, guide them or control them, or to point them one way or another. Rapid Run's loyalties were uncertain, and what he hoped to gain from Megatron's downfall equally so. Oil Slick no doubt hoped to regain some measure of legitimacy and influence in greater Cybertronian society, and that could only happen with Megatron's defeat. Sixshot, by contrast, was motivated by familial loyalty – where Shockblast went, he would follow.

As for Shockblast himself, logic was his motivation. Megatron had promised a stronger Cybertron, one impervious to outside forces and protected against its enemies. What he had delivered was squabbling and infighting among their people, making them weaker than before despite their military dominance in the local region of space. Megatron had promised the highest levels of achievement for his allies, positions of power and control. Instead, they had all become outcasts, hunted and hated by society at large for a number of reasons. It was illogical to follow someone who didn't deliver on his word, especially if doing otherwise would guarantee safety for himself and those who went with him.

He had believed that others would follow their example, and that they would stand beside him and those who stood with him. So far, however, his belief had gone unrewarded. Perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was a stubborn desire for power, perhaps it was simply insanity, but whatever the case, so few had joined him. It was not surprising, but it was quite disheartening.

"Shockblast?"

His optic came alive, and he turned to his brother. "Yes, Sixshot."

The logician's sibling looked at him, trying to be comforting. "Look, I know things don't look so good right now, but they'll come around. You'll see."

Shockblast shook his head. "Fear is a strong motivator, brother. Fear of destruction can motivate someone to change their views and their actions, and fear of change can prevent them from doing the same. We don't know what change will entail, and thus refuse to embrace it. The only time we accept it is when it strikes down upon us like a laser burst, and that's only because we have no choice."

"But change can happen. We can still hope for it, right?"

His optic dimmed as he rose from his seat. "Hope is illogical, brother. I fear we've done all that we can, and we must now leave it to them."

Silence held them both for a few short seconds, Sixshot attempting to come up with a counter to his sibling's argument, before a voice answered for him. "That's a terrible thing, hope. It is quite illogical, no question. But it's the one thing that cannot be killed. It motivates armies, ordinary people, and all sorts. Hope can make heroes out of monsters, saviors out of sinners, unite worlds under its banner, and give one strength when they have nothing else left. No wonder the humans value it so much." The pair turned to find Barricade standing before them, flanked by his fellow Combaticons. "I hope we aren't interrupting, but I think we know where we stand."

Ever morose and negative, Blight nonetheless stepped up and said his peace. "The end is coming, fair enough. I can't prevent that. But I can decide how it ends, and I'm willing to try for something worthwhile."

Kickback gave a proud and defiant laugh at his comrade's statement. "Megatron, schmegatron, I say bring it on!"

Somewhat unimpressed with his teammate's bravado, Blackout casually brushed at the air with one hand. "As much as it would pain me to trouble with it, I think this is something worth taking part in."

Compared to his teammates, Stormcloud looked especially nervous. It was only with a gentle prompt from his team leader that he turned to Shockblast and screwed up his resolve. "I'm in too."

A small part of Shockblast admitted surprise to himself. This wasn't illogical – Barricade had joined for dubious reasons, and no doubt had as much reason to regret his decisions as the rest. That he was genuine in his desire to assist was not outside of plausibility. Nonetheless, that they had the courage to aid him so openly was something he hadn't quite prepared for. Nonetheless, if he had a mouth, he would have smiled. "Thank you. All of you."

Watching from a corner as Sixshot gave out an enthusiastic if restrained laugh, Shadow Stalker gazed at the gathering uneasily, wondering just what she herself was to do in the end, and if it was worth it after everything she'd done.

"Any sign of them?" Rodimus asked as he sped along, Downshift racing beside him and Bulkhead flying overhead.

"Nothing yet." The veteran gave a small chuckle of approval at the plan thus far – sneaking them down to the surface via an orbital jump put much fewer mechs at risk, and attracted much less attention while they found the energy source. "Not a bad job so far, lad."

"Don't congratulate me until we make it through," the engineer replied. "I just hope I'm right and we aren't attracting too much attention. We might be limiting energy output in vehicle mode, but there's nothing stopping those Scrapmetals or whoever's controlling them from seeing us."

As the three Autobots raced towards a tall tower in the distance, an ominous, darkly-colored figure stood vigil, his light blue optics watching them proceed. He turned his attention towards the Axalon, high above and far out of reach of the drones combing Quintessa's surface, and gave out a massive roar that reverberated throughout the night.

"Rodimus, Downshift and Bulkhead are closing in on the tower," Tow-Line reported. "Let's hope they make it back in one piece."

:"At least they'll have a repaired ship to make it back to.": Arcee replied via comm.-line. :"We're almost finished replacing the damaged bits of hull. A couple more kliks, and we won't have anything stopping us from leaving this Primus-forsaken system once Rodimus reports back.":

The mech laughed. "The more good news like that, the better, but something…" His console chimed, alerting him to incoming on the ship's sensors. "Slag… Never fails! Arcee, get back into the ship, now! We've got incoming!"

Seconds after the line was cut off, the ship was rocked, Cliffjumper turning from his console and asking, "What the slag was that?!"

"Ion cannons!" Quickly going over the controls, Wing Saber set to work. "We get fired at like that again, and we'll get shot down in a second! I'm bringing the ship down!"

The gunner looked to the pilot with surprise. "With a mess of those drones waiting for us? Are you nuts?!"

"Better us setting down under our own power with weapons online and an intact ship then crashing and dying!" Immediately taking command, Tow-Line called out, "Autoguns online! If nothing else, we can buy Rodimus a little more time!"

All around the Axalon's impending landing zone, drones gathered in rising numbers as if anticipating the coming assault. As they approached, however, several were blasted apart from above, the vessel's automated weapons raining down fire from above unencumbered by the ion bursts from earlier.

Once the ship landed, the Omnicons emerged from a hatch, Arcee and Signal Flare holding back and providing cover fire while Offshoot and Strongarm went to work, the former cutting through drones while the latter came down on them with his energon axe. Skyblast carried on the fight above them, swooping throughout the battlefield and destroying as many drones as he could hit. Just as the drones began to focus their attention on him, they found themselves with another problem as Wing Saber charged forth from inside the ship. With no sense in lifting off with the ion cannon as opposition, the remaining crew found themselves going on the defensive from the ship's cargo bay, its pilot engaging from the air.

As Wing Saber continued his attack run, a blast of energy slammed into him from one side, knocking him off-balance before he transformed to robot mode and stabilized himself. It didn't take long for him to find out where the attack had come from, as a massive aircraft almost as long as his alternate mode was wide darted past him before swooping around and firing again. The pilot managed to dodge, barely missing his opponent as the aircraft zoomed past. "Well, this just became a lot more interesting!"

As the attacker swooped around for another strike, it was blasted from the side as Skyblast zoomed in, his cannon lancing off additional bursts as he charged forward. "You've been a console jockey a bit too long, Saber – you need a little more practice with one-on-one!"

A laugh, and the larger flier returned to vehicle mode. "This coming from the glorified energon miner! Come on – let's teach this slag heap a thing or two!"

As they arrived at the tower, Rodimus's team transformed and looked up upon the corkscrew-like structure with neutral expressions on their faces. Bulkhead had no trouble recalling the Quintesson design philosophy, having been around long enough to see it first-hand, and seeing it brought back more than a few unpleasant memories.

His two comrades had only seen it in recordings from the archives, much of what they'd built on Cybertron having been destroyed or remodeled over the vorns since their departure. Thus, Downshift's only comment on it was dry and unimpressed. "Well, I'll say this for them, they have an interesting design aesthetic."

"We'll comment on the architecture later." Rodimus raised his weapon and shot open the door before leading them inside. "Let's get moving, mechs."

The trio entered the tower, finding it dark and barren, and immediately switched on their lights as they looked about carefully. At their feet were numerous bits of debris, the odd bit of wreckage joined by the more familiar sights of Quintesson corpses. Bulkhead looked at one of the egg-shaped bodies, its five faces trashed but nonetheless recognizable despite the blast patterns and its numerous tentacles all but rotted away, and kicked it aside. "Something tells me the Quints aren't the ones controlling those things."

"Then who's controlling the drones? And who killed all of them?" A nervous note was clear in the engineer's voice; as much as he enjoyed action, Downshift liked having the facts before he went into battle.

A door opened at the far end of the entrance hall, prompting them to enter. His weapon at the ready, Rodimus prompted them onwards. "Come on. Let's see if we can find out."

"Come on, this all you got?!" His pistols blaring and his shoulder cannons firing, Cliffjumper kept on blasting away at the approaching drones, leaving several of them destroyed in his wake. "You going to join in anytime soon, Tow-Line?! You're missing out on all the fun!"

Two quick shots blew apart a pair of approaching drones as the operations officer approached, Powerlinked to an optional combat platform and his legs shifted into a pair of overhanging cannons. Rifle at the ready, he opened fire. "Just needed to get a little extra firepower!" Quickly making up for lost time, he destroyed numerous approaching drones with a few short salvos. "Hold them off, 'bots! If you go down, make sure you take a bunch of these things with you!"

Soft lights began to come online as Rodimus entered a large open chamber, Downshift and Bulkhead following him with weapons at the ready. It didn't take long for them to notice the iris pattern in the floor, or the odd screens dotting the chamber wall and displaying schematics on the drones. Wondering exactly where their host was, the three were soon surprised by a rapid chorus of voices.

A joyful cry. "Visitors at last!"

A mournful whine. "How lonesome I've been!"

An angered growl. "Miserable and wretched!"

At last, a calm voice. "There is much that needs to be done."

The lights slowly increased in brightness as the iris in the floor opened, their apparent host rising up from it. Connected to its platform via a number of umbilical-like tentacles was a large, eel-like mechanical form, deep green with bright yellow eyes and two arms, each with two elbows leading to two manipulators, one three-fingered and one two-fingered. Its mouth opened, and a head emerged with a calm blue face. "You are products of Factory One. Long have I wondered what became of you."

Irked by the use of the Quintesson name for his homeworld, Bulkhead readied his weapons, only to be restrained by Rodimus. "You have us at a loss. What… Who are you?"

"I am the Alpha Quintesson, the first among my kind, and the last of my kind, left to bear witness to my people's destruction at the hands of our creations."

"The drones, you mean." The veteran managed a small laugh. "Sounds like you got fragged by your own grenades. Care to shut 'em down before we pay for your mistakes, or are you just going to watch us go down too?"

The head shifted to a different face, a red and orange one with fangs, and viciously responded to the helicopter's comment. "Those drones are not the issue! You have much graver concerns!"

"Those drones are the immediate problem." His optics fixed on the Quintesson, Rodimus kept his voice calm, not wanting to antagonize the being before them if it could help. Something told him that the Alpha Quintesson wasn't in the most stable of psychological states, and from what he'd heard about its kind, that was saying something. "We can't leave this planet with them online. They're attracted to our ship's power source, and we can't exactly leave them for someone else to stumble across."

The Alpha Quintesson's face shifted again to a giddy-looking grey and green one which laughed hysterically as it spoke. "Yes, such marvelous creations! We took such joy in making them, such pleasure out of the knowledge that they would allow us to strike back against you all!" Its face shifted to a different one, gloomy in silver and gold, and continued. "But then it all fell apart. History repeated itself, and we were damned by our own hand."

The cavalier quirked an optic ridge. As much as the Quintesson's words had confirmed their suspicions, he wanted the full truth. "What do you mean? What happened?"

The calm blue face took over after spinning for a moment. "Long ago, you expelled us from Factory One. We vowed to strike back and retake what was ours. We paid smaller groups to attack your world, but you repulsed them. We encouraged attacks upon you, but you defended yourselves. At last, we decided to defeat you at your own game, and created these." Several screens dislodged from the walls and surrounded the four of them, floating around serenely and displaying the schematics not only to the Scrapmetal drones, but also to several other mechanical forms and to a large battle station, easily the size of a small moon. The two unfamiliar designs were distinct, but fairly similar and despite being unrecognized, were clearly capable of transformation. "Advanced war machines, equipped with artificial intelligence. They were to be our vengeance against you for your defiance. Reconnaissance drones capable of interfacing with the command unit, optimized for stealth. Foot soldiers, meant to swarm the enemy and attack anything they found. Combat fliers, built to deal with multiple combat modes. And command units, made as the best strategists of any generation. With their battle moon, they were to be unstoppable. We made them well. We made them too well."

It didn't take long for Downshift to figure out what happened. "They struck against you. Those drones out there are the only ones left, meant to eliminate the remaining Quintessons and hold you in check."

"The irony being that my connection to this world is what keeps them active." The screens went back into the walls while the Alpha Quintesson continued. "I am tethered to my world, keeping it operating and coordinating its activities, as well as the activities of everything on this planet. So long as I live, they will remain active. In order to deactivate them, to escape this dead world, you must kill its last occupant. You must kill me."

All around the Axalon, the Autobots and Omnicons laid down a line of fire against their opponents, blasting apart drones left and right. In the air above them, however, Skyblast and Wing Saber found themselves trying to avoid fire from their anonymous, animalistic attacker.

Growing more and more frustrated with their opponent's brutal attacks and incredible maneuverability, the pilot asked, "What the slag is this thing?"

"No idea, but he's gonna be slag in a minute!" A round of laser fire was lanced from the Omnicon's cannon, emphasizing his point.

The blast connected, and the animalistic form turned and directed his attention toward the flying Omnicon, firing off bursts of his own. Before any of them could hit, however, a shot fired from far below made contact, and the large animalistic aircraft found itself wrapped in wires and magnets, explosives tipped on the magnets going off seconds after contact was made.

As Skyblast and Wing Saber transformed to robot mode in surprise, they looked down towards the Axalon to find Talon standing atop its roof, a large cannon over one shoulder. While glad for the help, the Omnicon called back in frustration, "We could've taken him!"

A smirk crossed the femme's face. "I'm sure." Her optics grew wide as she called back, "Aw scrap! I hope you can back that up – that thing's not done yet!"

The two aerial Autobots looked in surprise as the animalistic jet regained altitude with a growl, and rammed into the two, causing them to plummet to the ground. The jet then shifted position, pointing its guns directly at Talon and opening fire. She jumped into the sky and drew her machine gun, returning fire. "Here we go again!"

"Wait, kill you?" Downshift looked over the facility, taking as many scans as he could. "There's gotta be options that don't involve that!"

His weapons locked on as Bulkhead countered, "Doesn't sound like we have much choice."

The engineer turned to the veteran in surprise. "Bulkhead, we slag him, it's the same as genocide! He might be a Quintesson, but that doesn't mean we should just take him out!"

The Alpha Quintesson didn't seem eager to debate the issue. "We created your race for the purpose of slavery, destroyed hundreds of you in the older days. You have every reason to see my kind's final destruction, and the opportunity is at hand. Besides, you have no other option if you wish to save yourselves and your comrades. I am connected to the planet's power systems, and removing me from them will initiate an automatic shutdown. There is no other way – you have no other options."

"But we can't just kill you, not without a trial or…!"

"Downshift." Rodimus' words silenced his subordinate, and he turned to the being before them. "Were you there? When it all happened?"

The Quintesson remained silent for a few short seconds, before closing the maw surrounding its face and speaking in a quiet voice not unlike that of a youngling knowing it had done something terribly wrong. "Yes. I have always been here, connected to this world yet cut off from it. I coordinated the attacks, decided upon general policy. I was party to the decimation of your uprising, and indirectly responsible for that of my own kind. I am guilty, and alone."

Rodimus's optics dimmed, not wanting to grasp at the inevitable reality that was laying out before him. "Get out. I'll do this myself." Downshift looked as if he were about to protest, but the cavalier's next words silenced him. "That's an order, Downshift. Go." The two turned and left, Bulkhead making quick glances back as he departed, while Rodimus kept his weapon at the ready, aiming it at the Quintesson. "You're entitled to some final words."

The armor's maw opened, and what emerged from inside was a human-like face, smooth and organic-looking. "I'm sorry. I am sorry for what my people have done, for what we have done to your world. You are alive, and we had no right to do to you everything that we had done. Our sin was pride, pride that we could not be defeated by simple machines. Clearly, however, we were wrong. You and the people of Cybertron are not simple machines, but far more than meets the eye. You live, while our creations do not. That will be your salvation." One tentacle reached out and pulled a small data chip from the wall, then held it out for Rodimus to take. "This contains all the details I have shown you, the schematics and blueprints for our final line of creations. Perhaps, by my end, you can undo our mistakes. If so, then I look forward to the next world."

A whine sounding from his weapon, Rodimus took the chip with one hand. He looked at the form before him, not certain if it was showing genuine remorse or simply acting that way, if it had given him the truth or if it had lied. If the Quintesson was telling the truth, however, and killing him would save his crew, then ending his life would both save his crew and put this sad, pathetic creature out of its misery. "I hope you find it."

"And I hope that you can succeed where we failed." Panels slid away to one side, and a device rose up from the ground. Rodimus didn't turn away to examine it as the Alpha Quintesson pleaded, "Take her with you. Let her redeem us."

Rodimus nodded, and his finger pulled the trigger.

All around the Axalon, the swarms of Scrapmetals simply ceased, and collapsed to the ground, deactivated and beaten. Far above, the snarling jet saw this and growled before kicking on its engines and turning away, gaining distance before a flaming portal opened and aided its escape.

Watching it escape, Talon floated in the air, both relieved and perplexed by its exit. "What was that all about?" Her curiosity was put aside as her comm.-link chirped.

:"Autobots, this is Rodimus. Ready the ship for departure. The drones have been taken care of, and we've got a great deal to report back home.":

"Here we are," Landquake announced as he led his two followers into a massive chamber, lit by a mix of bright white lights along the various walls and the soft blue glow radiating out from a pool in the center of the chamber. All along its walls were sets of glyphs, many of which Overcast and Skyfall couldn't recognize, but their attention was soon fixed on the pool before them.

Optics wide with awe, Overcast approached, not believing what he was seeing. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Liquid energon, the purest source I've yet seen." The Decepticon gestured around the chamber, alerting them to the glyphs along the wall. "I'm uncertain why it's here, however I'm convinced that it's connected to these glyphs along the chamber walls."

His interest successfully turned away from the liquid fuel, Skyfall walked up to the glyphs with awe. "You may be right. But it would take considerable time to analyze these, and more resources than just the three of us. We need to inform others of this, particularly within Autobot Command, and get a proper archaeological team down here."

"That have to wait a while." The three turned to the entrance as Grimlock stepped forward, his team arrayed behind him. "This all that down here? Just a pool of liquid energon?"

Optics wide in amazement, Swoop flew over to inspect the pool. "This is more like premium liquid energon, boss mech." He knelt down beside the pool, looking up only to question Landquake. "Why didn't you tell anyone about this?"

"And risk knowledge of it falling into the wrong hands?" The Decepticon stood tall with pride. "Better no one know than Megatron know, given how he'd waste it."

The Pteranodon laughed in agreement. "Good point, but now that we know about it, we need to tell Magnus."

Somewhat lost, Slapper looked to his fellow Dinobots and wondered aloud, "Okay, I get that energon's important and all, but what makes liquid energon so special?"

"Energon, like most things, is matter, young mech, and can exist as a solid, liquid or gas. However, it's often found mixed in with other materials. Liquid energon tends to resist contamination better than solid energon or energon gas." Looking to the glyphs, Skydive then asked, "But finding an incredibly pure source of energon is one thing. The question now is, why is it here?"

"I could ask the same question of all of you." Stowing his weapon, Overcast turned to Grimlock and asked, "I get that you don't trust us, but did you have to bring the entire team down here?"

The Dinobot commander considered his response, before gesturing to his team. Triceratron punched one wall in frustration, surprising most of the others present, but stood watch with Snarl and Sludge while Skydive and Slapper went over the glyphs with Skyfall and Landquake, effectively leaving the two to themselves. "Me have questions."

"Such as how we managed to get off while so many other mechs didn't?" The aerospace fighter looked less than pleased as he answered. "I won't call it luck. I can't call it luck. But whether you like it or not, someone got here, and we've managed to give you and everyone else some answers about Nebulos. And believe me, if we'd known we'd be the only ones to get out, we'd have packed as many mechs onboard as we could, gotten them to safety with us. You and I both know how I feel about 'acceptable losses', or whatever Atlas likes to call them."

Grimlock remained silent for a moment, before admitted, "Me think he re-evaluating that stance, given mechs lost." He shook his head. "Still, all us lose friends there. Magnus lose mechs, same as Bumblebee, Checkpoint, Atlas. Not sure if me fortunate or not about just losing one mech compared to everyone else."

Overcast could sense some small traces of guilt in Grimlock's voice, and could easily guess the cause. "Grimstone was a good mech. He won't be forgotten."

The raptor's response was firm and angry. "No, he won't."

:"You found Quintessa?": Ultra Magnus looked amazed over the comm.-line, as if the discovery of their former masters' homeworld was the last thing he expected.

"What was left of it anyway." Rodimus collected his thoughts before continuing. "Sometime after they left Cybertron, the Quints attempted to build an army to use against us. The army rebelled, trashed the planet, and left in mobile space cruiser designed as a planet buster weapon. We've got all the details on their designs, and quite a bit besides to report. I'm sending the information now on a sub-channel." A beep at Ultra Magnus's end signaled that the transmission was received, and Magnus turned away to view it. His optics widened in surprise, prompting more on the cavalier's end. "What's wrong?"

:"We've seen these before.": The interim Autobot commander turned back to the Axalon's commander. :"Rodimus, I'm giving you and your crew new marching orders. You know about Earth?":

Rodimus knew enough about it, but was surprised that it mattered. "Of course, but I don't see what we've found having anything to do with it."

:"Optimus Prime led a team there almost six deca-cycles ago. They encountered a mech matching one of these designs there, and we had sightings of the others near Nebulos before it was lost. He needs to see this information, and you're better off giving it to him in person. Understood?":

Fully aware of the situation with Nebulos, the cavalier gave a quick nod. "We'll haul skidplate, sir."

:"Good. Cybertron out.":

The signal cut off, and Rodimus returned to his logs. The signal chime starting up, he continued, "Prime Log, supplemental." He sighed before continuing. "In less than two cycles, I've gone from boredom to finding out that the last creations of the Quintessons are connected to the destruction of Nebulos. Arcee was right – irony bit me in the aft, and I ended up killing the last of the Quintessons in the bargain. I take back what I said before about excitement and adventure. If this is what it means to have that, then I prefer boredom. I might have saved my ship, gotten my crew to safety, but as much as I can justify it, I don't think I'm going to be over what I did anytime soon." He turned to the device the Quintesson had given him and concluded, "But I'm going to have to make do. I just hope that nothing else happens. End log."

Rodimus had made sure to speak with Downshift regarding the device. It was no bomb or explosive or weapon, but instead appeared to be some variant on a stasis pod. Developing inside was a lifeform, one not dissimilar to himself or his fellow Cybertronians and little bigger than a Mini-Con. Rodimus had no way of knowing what would emerge when development was completed. Perhaps it would be something just as terrible as the Quintessons, or Megatron…or as noble as Optimus Prime. Regardless, he had no business to punish it for crimes it may yet commit, or crimes committed by its creators. But perhaps he could help raise it to be something better.

He rose from his desk and made his way to the bridge. There was still work to be done.

The End