Wildrider was having a good day.

He and the boys hadn't had this much fun since the Killway. A whole planet of roads to rip up and suckers to run off.

"When's that air strike happenin'? Haven't killed somethin' in forever."

"I can't stands this waiting fellas," Breakdown tittered to himself. "We could be ambushed at any moment."

Deadend sniffed. "We're the ambush Breakdown, stop leaking."

"If anybody ambushes me, I'll just ambush 'em right back!"

"That's not how ambushes work, Dragstrip."

Dead End sighed. The Stunticons were stationed at key points along the Velocitronian road network to mop up anybody the air raid spooked out of hiding. It wasn't particularly fulfilling. The War World would destroy most of the area, what point was there in running? At best they'd find a few half-dead fools. And the other half didn't last much longer when Wildrider found them. Or even worse -

"What'd I tell you boys about keeping this channel clear?"

The voice boomed over the comms with utter contempt. At once everyone shut up. Even the wind died down, Dead End thought.

"B-Boss?" Dragstrip stammered. "Are you down here?"

"Naw, Dragstrip. I trust you enough not to screw up as simple a job as this. I know you boys respect me too much to let me down. That right, boys?"

"Yessir Motormaster," they all said quickly.

At the base of the War World, a small, thin bot moved between the shadows.

"Delta Leader, this is Delta 3, I'm in position."

"Copy Delta 3. Deltas 1,2,4 check in."

"Check."

"Check."

"Check."

"Delta Leader to all points, Operation Thunderdome is go."

Windblade blinked. "A War World?"

"A floating fortress. One of four. Or was it five? Anyway, they're all commanded by brothers, a family of rich psychopaths who joined up with the Decepticons to 'tear down the establishment' or some scrap."

"What is this one doing here?"

"Um I'm gonna say 'war.' Ow! Hey!"

"Chromia, stop hitting Trailbreaker and put us down. They aren't looking for us. They don't even know why we're here. It should be fine."

But even as they touched down on the Speed Planet for the first time, a wave of ships dispatched from the dark prism.

Chromia whispered to Trailbreaker. "I guess that explains the tightened security. Your badge gets two civilians into an active war zone?"

"I don't think they were Autobots. Speedia was always a low priority system for the brass back on Cybertron. But I also know Velocitronians are usually ones to keep all four wheels on the ground. I'll have to sniff around when we get to the capital."

A cluster of the points of light from the space station descended to intercept the Decepticons. Bursts of red and green began puncturing the dawn as the two factions clashed.

"War." Windblade softly spoke the word.

Chromia saw her watch transfixed. "Listen Windblade. You're following the path of a Prime. You're gonna see all sorts of the bad in this universe. You can't let it get to you."

The speaker turned and nodded. "You're right. We should get inside. Also; let's not use the P-Word when we're not onboard the Stormfall. Discretion is of the utmost importance."

"You call the shots when we're on the ground, I just fly."

The trio was disturbed by the sudden arrival of sirens.

"You there! You have no idea how lucky you are that you got through the gate when you did!"

A blocky ambulance came barreling towards them, transforming into a broad-shouldered medic. "Where's the patient?" She asked.

Windblade raised her hand politely. "I'm the one he was talking about, but I'm really fine-"

"I'll be the judge of that. Call me Red Alert. I'll look at you when we're inside. Right now we have to get you down below before the bombing run."

Chromia's eyes flashed. "A bombing run? Here? When?"

Red Alert pointed at the wall of smoke advancing towards them. The fighters who had escaped the Velocitronian fleet were bearing down on the landing strip and the zone all around it, carpet bombs streaming from the craft.

"Now!"