In the bunkers below, Velocitronians huddled together, eyes fixed on a series of monitors displaying the War World. They felt the ground shake as the bombers passed overhead, then an earsplitting crack as the ceiling shattered. Light and debris poured in, and so did a peculiar orb, warm and orange, and huge. On impact it vanished, spilling its contents into the bunker. Once they were sure the roar of the bombers was gone, the onlookers crept up to the landing site.

There was a space ship they didn't recognize, along with a medic they did recognize, the city's chief doctor Red Alert. And she was with three foreigners, one still sparking orange from his hands.

Windblade hurt all over. But she was alive. They all were, because of-

"Trailbreaker!"

"I'm okay..."

The others wheezed as they came around. "Primus! We're alive!" Red Alert cried. "You saved us Autobot! You're really something."

Trailbreaker himself was stood like a statue in the middle of the carnage, a weary smile on his face.

"Did we make it? Also I'm having trouble putting my arms down. Um, doctor, what did you say your name was? I may need some help."

"You can call me whatever you want," she said with palpable admiration.

"Caminus on a cracker," Chromia groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Okay. Nurse Clingy can look at my friends. Can someone else tell me what the hell is going on on this planet?"

"We're watching Operation Thunderdome," someone in the crowd answered.

Helpful, she muttered.

"Is Operation Thunderdome where Decepticons blow you all up?"

"No," the bot said, stepping forward, "It's the retaliation. We're about to win the war."

Motormaster watched the smoke billow over the horizon. Things were going well. The Velocitronians were holed up underground, surrender should come within the day.

It was at this point that the flares went up.

Around the War World five blue lights glided lazily into the air. The atmosphere on the deck of the pyramid began to crackle. They were under attack!

"Get the fleet back here now!" Motormaster barked.

But it was too late. A barrier of light enclosed the entire War World. It was a storm shield, a nigh impenetrable wall from both sides. Usually a fortress would employ one of these as a siege tactic. The Velocitronians must have repurposed one, reversed the polarity to externalize the field.

That's what Motormaster remembered from the security briefings anyway. He was never good with the technical stuff.

Swarms of Velocitronian craft uncloaked now and cut off the retreating Decepticons, driving them to ground or forcing them to crash into the storm shield. It was a massacre out there. And he was the one who'd have to brief the Commander...

The people cheered as they watched the dome surround the War World.

"You've cut off the main fleet from their base. That's pretty smart."

The red bot who had first addressed Chromia was standing with her now waiting outside of Red Alert's surgical suite. "Our city's Titan told us about it. It was part of an old structure elsewhere on the planet. It took a lot of doing to retrieve it and get it operational."

Chromia raised an eyebrow. "A Titan? I thought you guys descended from the First Exodus."

"A lot of us are. But some of us came over on Navitas during the Second. There was plenty of room, and a lot less hassle. They built this place around him, made it our capital way back."

"This is Delta?"

"You were expecting something more impressive?"

"I was expecting something above ground. You speedy types aren't tunnelers."

He snickered. "We haven't done all our tricks yet."

The door opened, and out came Trailbreaker, looking largely none the worse for wear.

"Hey, barfly," Chromia smiled at him. "Looks like I'm not rid of you yet. Funny how you couldn't bust out your party trick in the middle of that asteroid belt."

"Well I think you managed fine without it," he retorted. "Besides. Fields that big take a lot out of me. You noticed the landing I managed."

He looked at the battle on the screens. "Speaking of ace pilots, where did racers learn to fly?"

"The Autobots couldn't spare the troops to help us, but they did kickstart our air force. The volunteers took to it famously. You probably talked to my brother up there. I'm Fastlane, by the way."

"I'm Trailbreaker. Do the Autobots know you have a War World on your hands?"

"I can't imagine they do. By the time the Pyramid of Madness came we had been out of contact with them for over a year. We've been fighting the Decepticons for the last 8 months."

"Out of contact? They just left you?"

"Admiral Sentinel said that he would put our leader in touch with someone once the Autobots had reorganized in the wake of Optimus Prime's death."

Trailbreaker slapped his forehead. "Of course he did. Anything out of arm's reach is too much effort for Sentinel."

The crowd swelled to a roar as the aerial cameras focused on some vehicles cruising out of the battlefield at top speed. At the front was one of the sleekest cars Trailbreaker and Chromia had ever seen.

"That's Delta Crew, the team who lead this attack," Fastlane explained. "They're celebrities around here. And that - he gestured to the front car - is Override, the leader of Velocitron. Around here speed equals authority, and nobody's got more of either than her."

"Then I think we should request and audience with her." It was Windblade, with Red Alert in tow, finished her evaluation.

"If you have any more blackouts in the Speedia system, look me up. I really ought to stay with you for post-evaluation, but if you insist you're in a hurry-"

"We are." All three said at once.

"I don't think meeting with Lady Override is a good idea right now," Fastlane said. "She's awful busy with the war effort. But I work in her office. What brings you to Velocitron anyway?"

Now comes the tricky part, thought Windblade. "I'm with the Caminus Galactic History Society."

Chromia looked away to avoid laughing.

"We were hoping to learn about the Iconography of your planet's culture. Specifically, we were interested in the red lightning bolt that is often used as a symbol for Velocitron."

Fastlane looked at her, and thought to himself. "Hmm. Velocitronian society doesn't spend a lot of time rooted in the past. Always moving forward, right? But our grand archives have a library. That might be a good place to start."