Torenia Pax

The snows were beginning to fall, just as they were when she set foot on the shores of The Torus Heights and began her trek home with Orion fifteen years before. Not fifteen years to the day, no, fifteen years ago today she was on a boat, deep within the borders of Nova Cronum, still within the maritime borders of Iacon. The boat was doomed, but the day was a blessed one despite that…because of that. She smiled at the memory of trudging through the jungles of Insula Avalonius, and of seeing the odd green glow beckoning her to a cavern, and changing her life. She watched the snowflakes tumble through the gray sky above from behind the window of the viewing deck overlooking the main courtyard, letting her mind fill with memories of a child she hadn't seen in over fourteen years…a child who today was no longer a child, provided he still lived. She winced at the possibility of Orion no longer being functional, and welcomed the sounds of an approaching vehicle to distract her from such thoughts.

The central tunnel, one of nine leading from the main courtyard to the outer regions of Tyger Pax, glowed from within, illuminated by the lights of the vehicle or cybertronian approaching. She hoped it was him; he'd promised her he'd not only be here today, but arrive before the noon hour, and as the wedged front end of the small blue vehicle emerged from the tunnel, she smiled broadly. Roller, her other child, was back, and true to his word, had arrived with nearly thirty minutes to spare before hitting mid-day. A look of uncertainty bordering on disapproval came over her face as she took note of the forty-eight foot trailer attached to his rear section. He had no problem handling it, but he did look far too small to be hauling such a large container. Following the trailer were Constable Ironhide and Dion, who despite his checkered past and questionable present dealings, had proven to be one of Roller's closest and most loyal friends and confidants; and that was only from what Torenia had been able to witness between the two. Torenia was well aware that much of what they were involved with was being kept from her. Loronus Pax, Stronghold Pax, Impactor and Inferno walked out to greet them, and Torenia turned away from the window and set out toward the stairs to do the same.

Though summer was coming to an end, it was still warm enough, even this far north, so that the snowflakes were sparse and were melting the moment they touched the ground, making the layers of dirt covering the metal and stone softer, but not quite muddy. Torenia walked over the dirt and metal toward the group gathered in front of the trailer, conspiring in their whispers about the defense of The Torus Heights and what they felt to be best for the polar emirate no doubt. Their conversation ceased as they caught sight of her approaching, and after a quick nod to Impactor prompting the guard, Dion and Inferno to attend to the trailer, Roller beamed a broad smile at Torenia and walked toward her. "I told you I'd be here, though I don't understand why you were so insistent that I return home." He said as he wrapped her in a tight embrace.

She squeezed him as hard as she could. He was no bigger than he had ever been, but he was an adult now, and seemed every bit the grown up. "You know full well why I insisted you be here today." She stated as she held him. "You had better be here for your fifteenth birthday! You are now of the age to determine your own path, not that you haven't been doing that since day one." She grumbled as she finally released the embrace, but still held his arms gently looking into his optics lovingly. She then glanced to the trailer being led away from them toward one of the side tunnels. "Do I want to know what you have in there?"

Roller chuckled lightly. "Probably not. Though it's less about what's inside than what it is."

"Mmm-hmmm." Torenia shook her head. "Another gift from your friend in Hyperious? I thought you were told explicitly that these little smuggling ventures were to cease."

"Olnius can't forbid me from traveling…or having possessions." Roller grinned unconvincingly.

"He is our emir, so yes, he can." Torenia replied.

"He is weak, and insists we do nothing as Nova Cronum amasses weapons and soldiers along our border." Roller replied with venom. "He chooses to keep his head in the snow as our enemies have been tightening the noose around our necks for fourteen years. The same enemies that cut Arlon's head from his body!" The former minor, now adult turned to Stronghold and Loronus. "On this we are all in agreement. Why neither of you have stepped up to run against Olnius…" Roller shook his head disappointedly, "we need a new emir."

"Sorry lad, I've not the disposition for leadership." Stronghold replied with a grin before nodding to Loronus. "And this once lacks the mettle for it."

"Silence you big dumb bore-slug, I've mettle aplenty, tis interest I lack." The lean, solemn Loronus replied with an uncharacteristic grin.

Roller stared heatedly at them. "Too much is at stake to use discomfort as a shield against responsibility."

"Ah, he truly is an adult today." Stronghold laughed, dismissing Roller's stern disapproval.

"Bah, he's been yapping at us like that for years." Loronus replied with another grin, sending a knowing look to Stronghold before turning to Ironhide. "Thank you for escorting Lord Roller back to Tyger Pax, Constable."

"It's always a pleasure ta' serve House Pax." Ironhide replied. "But Lord Pax, please be advised that whatever leeway ya' may have seen should ya' have been caught doin' whatever ya' was doin' over the years, it's now gone. You're an adult now; Sentinel Prahme is well aware of that, and will see to it that ya' are scrutinized and prosecuted as such should ya' ever git caught breakin' the law."

"Duly noted." Roller nodded, then smiled. "Kind of why I chose to do the transporting of this trailer through Axiom and Nova Cronum prior to today."

Torenia gave a stern, secretive glance to Stronghold and Loronus, who nodded behind Roller's back and headed into the building she had exited from moments before. Roller watched their departure with a confused glance, and Torenia reached forward and gently squeezed his arm to draw his attention back to her. "I hope you had a chance to visit with Lady Elita while in Hyperious."

Roller looked at her and smiled. "Not this time. Frankly, we don't have much in common; the one thing we do have in common only brings tension between she and I." Torenia's optics lowered to the ground as her thoughts once more went to the long-missing Orion. "As it brings tension between the two of us."

Still looking at the ground, Torenia shook her head as an edge came to her voice. "You and A-Three assumed you knew what was best and did…whatever it was that you did without consulting me, or anyone else."

"We had to."

"No!" Her optic shot up and locked onto his. "No. Arlon Pax did not run from his problems! Orion Pax would not run from his problems!"

"I swear to you, Lady Torenia, that Emir Arlon would have made the same choice A-Three and I made were he privy to the knowledge that A-Three possessed." Roller replied.

Torenia glared disbelievingly at Roller. "Then why didn't you tell him?"

Roller shook his head and shrugged. "I was not informed until after Arlon was dead, and A-Three…I cannot say why A-Three does what he does, or does not do." He looked imploringly into her optics. "Please know that it was necessary. Sentinel Prime will stop at nothing to see Orion killed, and not just because of what occurred at the trial. He has another reason to want Orion dead."

"What reason?" Torenia snarled. "How could anyone want Orion dead? What could he have done?"

Roller looked deeply at Torenia, considering something before replying. "I cannot say, my lady. Please, you are better off not knowing, just know that it is not due to any wrong Orion has ever committed. Truth be told, I don't believe Orion capable of committing a wrong."

Torenia held his gaze for a moment before turning away defeated. A moment later a pained smile came to her face. "Oh, I remember hearing something about lying to get into a pub, and a little something about a bar fight."

Roller laughed. "That was a fun night." His optics dropped and the mirth faded. "I suppose he and I could walk freely into a pub now."

"I wish he were here for the two of you to do so." Torenia sadly added. "I'd love to join you, maybe get to see him knock Lugnut Boltax offline with my own optics this time."

"It was quite a sight." Roller replied. "I don't know where A-Three took him. If I did…I probably wouldn't retrieve him, not now…not if where he's at is safe."

"I suppose, were I in your position, I'd probably do the same." Torenia finally conceded, wrapping her arm around Roller's shoulders. "But I do miss him terribly."

"As do I, my lady." Roller replied, allowing Torenia to lead him into the building. "So how have things been here? It's been almost two months since I've been back."

"Tense, but that's no different from when you left." Torenia replied as she led him through the halls toward the center of the vast complex, the Sanctum of Tyger Pax. "As you're more aware than anyone else, Sentinel Prime has surrounded us. He's been using primarily House Honorum soldiers and weaponry, so he claims it's not his doing and is out of his hands. Of course, when Olnius tries to contact Emir Acumenus, he's never able to get through."

"Sentinel Honorum is responsible, he's simply using Acumenus as a puppet." Roller grumbled. "We're well within our rights to mount weapons and position soldiers of our own across from their positions."

"Olnius fears that will antagonize things and prompt an act of aggression." They turned down another hallway, nodding to a pair of servants that passed them. "He's aware of some of your little escapades. I don't believe he has any idea of the extent of your smuggling operation, but he knows you've been up to something and that it's been going on for many years."

"You don't have any idea of the extent of my smuggling operation." Roller laughed. "I'll schedule some time for him to chew me out while I'm here."

"You're an adult now," Torenia looked at him worriedly, "he can take very real action against you now. If you push him too far, he can push for a vote to banish you from House Pax."

"Let him." Roller scoffed. "He needs an eighty percent vote. He couldn't get a third of that."

"I know, and I thank Primus for that." Torenia replied. "But he IS the emir of The Torus Heights and the head of House Pax. He can still strip you of all authority, all privileges, and block you from House assets."

"He blocked me from House assets years ago." Roller replied as they approached the large, ornate double doors that led into the Sanctum, where only members of House Pax and few select servants could enter. "Fortunately there are those loyal to The Torus Heights willing to fund…well, best you not know." Roller reached forward and opened the doors.

"SURPRISE!" The assembled members of House Pax all called out in unison.

Roller smiled at them and then looked over at Torenia. "I suppose I should have seen this coming, but I genuinely didn't."

"Sure you didn't, you goofy blue shit." The grinning Gantor Pax muttered sarcastically as he walked over to Roller and slapped his shoulder.

"Welcome to adulthood kid." Scorcher Pax approached and handed a cup of mildly tainted engex to Roller.

The party went on for over an hour before Emir Olnius finally made his way to talk to Roller. As Roller smiled and nodded politely, Torenia placed herself close enough to listen without being noticed. "Emir Pax, it is good to see you again."

Olnius met the smile. He had always been good natured and friendly, but the weight of ruling the House and the emirate had weighed on him terribly. The execution of his predecessor, a Pax beloved by all, had left him with impossibly big shoes to fill, and the tension that had existed between The Torus Heights and Nova Cronum, as well as Prime's planetary government, at the time of his appointment had progressively deteriorated over the fourteen years since then, due in no small part to Roller's outspoken criticism of Sentinel Prime and his less than subtle but still unconfirmed efforts to bring arms into the emirate. It was miraculous that he'd never been caught, but it was only a matter of time before he was, and now that he had reached the age of self-determination and was an adult, his actions would not be dismissible and attributable to youth. "Congratulations, Roller. It seems like only yesterday that Parcher Pax was pulling you out of our hotspot."

"I guess it's been an uneventful decade and a half." Roller answered with a silly grin.

"Roller, now that you are an adult, what you do going forward will carry real consequences." Olnius stated with scorn but genuine affection. "And not just for you, but for our House, as well as our entire emirate."

"True sir, I do realize that." Roller replied. "But the same can be said for what we do NOT do."

Olnius shook his head sadly. "Roller, I recognize where you're coming from. It may not seem it, but I'm as outraged by what happened to Arlon as anyone."

"And by what happened to Orion?" Roller asked baitingly.

"Of course." Olnius snapped back. "I cared deeply for Orion. I felt him to be an excellent individual, and had fate gone another way, I would be voting him into House membership today, and embrace him as a Pax, like I would anyone in this room. But that's not how history turned out. And whatever the truth may be, he defied the Prime, he joined an outlaw group, and his actions, whether justified or not, indirectly led to the death of Arlon." He noted the look of anger in Roller's optics and nodded understandingly. "I am not putting any blame on Orion, Arlon made his own decision and Sentinel Prime's decision could not have been predicted by anyone, but the fact is that the moment Arlon died, I needed to step up and do what was best for House Pax and its subjects. I had to swallow my rage. I had to negotiate when I felt like striking. Leadership requires diplomacy and control. And war, which I fear is how you wished I would have reacted, would have ravaged everyone…everyone except Sentinel Prime."

Roller nodded. "Sir, I do understand, and yes, your attempts to keep us from war were correct and admirable. But we needed to take a stronger stance than we have taken, and the ignoring of the stationing of military forces along our border…"

"They're Honorum private security, not the government military, on Nova Cronum land, and they claim that they are reinforcing their borders due to the suspected smuggling of contraband through their territory." Olnius interrupted.

"Nova Cronum completely surrounds our emirate." Roller replied. "The only way to get anything here is through their territory."

"But it's contraband, Roller." Olnius replied. "Were it exotic flora or fauna, or furniture, or energon, even tainted energon, or anything else innocuous, I could offer an official rebuke to the mobilizations through proper channels. But I couldn't dare to do that, because that would invite further scrutiny to the situation, a situation where you were smuggling weapons through their borders!"

"According to whom?" Roller asked. "What have the Honorums claimed I have been transporting through their territory?"

"You're very clever Roller, and your friend Dion has done well to keep you and anyone you've employed from getting caught." Olnius placed his hand gently on Roller's shoulder. "But it's only a matter of time before you are caught. And an adult member of House Pax smuggling illegal weapons through Nova Cronum; it could be seen as an act of war."

"It's an act of protection, and it's the only protection we'll have." Roller answered, annoyed by the hand on his shoulder but leaving it there for the time being. "Sentinel Honorum is pissed, but whatever smuggling operation I may or may not be involved in is the least of it. He wants Orion, we don't have him but he doesn't believe that. He's convinced we've been either sheltering him or providing him with support for these past fourteen years. You can assure him we haven't, he may actually believe that you personally haven't, but he's convinced that's not the case with everyone here."

"Because that's NOT the case for everyone here." Olnius growled. "I don't know where A-Three and Orion disappeared to, but I'm convinced it's connected, and I have no doubt Sentinel PRIME would not believe it to be a coincidence either. And I'm convinced you're not remotely as ignorant to their situation as you claim to be."

"My Emir, I swear to you on my spark and all else I hold dear, that I do not know where Orion Pax or A-Three have gone." Roller replied earnestly.

Olnius regarded Roller for a long time before replying. "I believe you, though that only tells me that A-Three left you ignorant to certain details, likely to keep those details from getting out." The Emir of The Torus Heights finally smiled at Roller. "Your ignorance is a blessing, believe me in that young Roller. Now that you're an adult, the authorities can exert more pressure on you than they could before; not knowing might be the only thing that saves you…and Orion. Not knowing was thrust upon you…for me it's a conscious choice."

Roller peered deeply into Olnius's optics. "What do you mean by that?"

Once again Olnius stared at Roller in deep consideration before replying. "I've never been accused of being detail-oriented, but starships are beyond rare, not to mention extremely expensive, so one of the four House Pax possesses going missing a few days after I become interim emir was note-worthy. And given their value, do you really think there isn't a way to track them already in place?" He noted the look of surprise and realization washing over Roller's face. "I knew who took it, and I knew why. And I also knew that we were all better off with me not knowing where. I've made no mention of the missing craft, nor any mention of our missing polyhistor to anyone outside the House."

Roller mulled everything in his head, a look of anger initially coming over his face, but soon it was replaced with a look of affection. "You've had a way to track him this entire time…you could have given Sentinel Honorum what he wanted and deflated this situation for fourteen years…and you didn't?"

Olnius Pax nodded. "I have no interest in agitating Sentinel Prime, but I'm not handing Orion Pax over to him if it can be avoided."

"But if he finds out we're missing a ship, and it can be tracked…" Roller muttered.

"As I mentioned," Olnius smiled, "I've never been accused of being detail oriented. The ship vanished during the transition period, before I was officially named Emir of The Torus Heights and Head of House Pax. As far as I 'officially' know, it had been gone for eons. It's not like we've done any extraterrestrial travel in that time."

Roller stared at him deeply. "Thank you Emir Pax."

Olnius smiled. "I've never been your enemy, Roller Pax." He then took a more serious look. "Though that doesn't change the fact that I need you to cease all of your covert importation of…well, let's just say no more travel, arranging, or anything else for the time being."

"I'm sorry my Emir, but I cannot do that." Roller replied. "I appreciate what you have done, but it won't be enough to keep any of us safe. Sentinel Honorum will eventually get the pretext he needs to invade, to take over Tyger Pax, and to data-mine everything here, leading him to A-Three and Orion."

"Your activities are giving him that pretext!" Olnius insisted.

"It doesn't matter what I do or don't do." Roller replied. "I could cease and desist all activities right now; hell, I might not have ever done anything at all and it wouldn't keep Sentinel Honorum from coming after us. He needs to either find or manufacture a believable reason to do so, but eventually he will cross our borders and he will invade our home! It's only a matter of time."

"That's nonsense!" The now agitated emir snapped, drawing attention to their now-heated discussion. "We are House Pax! We are one of the most respected houses on Cybertron! Descended from Knight Paxus himself! Sentinel Prime wouldn't dare do anything like that, certainly not in the absence of your activities!"

"Have you forgotten the implied threat Rabattus Decimus relayed for him, the one comparing us to House Convoy and suggesting we may share their fate?" Roller replied, containing only slightly more control than Olnius.

"Bah, mere words said in haste by a Prime who recognized he was wrong but unable to admit that." Olnius dismissed the comment. "Things have calmed since then."

"His desire to kill Orion and A-Three has not calmed." Roller replied. "As long as they remain out of his grasp, and he sees us as his key to them, he will always be looking for a reason attack."

"No…" a look of confusion came over Olnius, failing to notice that nearly everyone in the room was focused on the two of them, "wait, why would he be interested in A-Three?"

Roller winced, as if recognizing he let something slip. "I mean when he finds out A-Three is the one that absconded with Orion."

"Whatever the case, as Emir of The Torus Heights, and as acting head of House Pax, I order you to immediately cease all activity not approved by me! In fact, you are hereby confined to Tyger Pax, and any and all communication you have with anyone outside of Tyger Pax must be pre-approved and monitored by me or someone I appoint to do so!" The angry Olnius Pax decreed, now fully aware that all were watching him.

"My activities are the only thing that will give us a chance at survival!" Roller snapped back.

"You're wrong about Sentinel Prime and his ambitions!" Olnius growled. "You're a young fool, and your foolishness is going to start a war!"

"I will not stand back and allow a tyrant to impose his will upon us!" Roller snarled.

"Then I am forced to call a vote for your removal!" Olnius shot. He turned and looked over everyone within the Sanctum. "We certainly have a quorum. I move that Roller of House Pax be removed from our rolls, stripped of his name, title and all associated privileges, effective immediately. Is there a second?" He clearly anticipated that a voice seconding his motion would reply back, but as the seconds ticked by with only silence filling them, his face took on a worried expression. "You all have heard him voice his open defiance of my orders, and express a desire to continue a course of action that will undoubtedly lead to war, a war we cannot win!"

"We have heard, my Emir." Loronus answered. "The problem is that even those that agree with your stance in dealing with Sentinel Prime do not feel that Roller should be removed from our House."

"I do not wish to do this," Olnius replied, "but he has left me no other option. I will not put House Pax in jeopardy by allowing him to continue to represent us."

"My lord, House Pax was in jeopardy long before Roller set off to give us the means by which to protect ourselves." Stronghold Pax replied. "Sir, I count you as one of my dearest friends and confidants, but you are not the emir The Torus Heights requires at this time." The tall, stout royal turned to look at the others in the room. "As mentioned by our emir, a quorum is present. I call for a vote to elect a new emir of The Torus Heights and a new Head of House Pax."

"Stonghold?" Olnius muttered.

"Seconded!" Loronus Pax called out, a look of sorrow on his face as he locked optics with Olnius Pax.

Olnius stared at them both utterly dumbstruck for several moments, but quickly regained his composure. "The motion to remove Roller Pax from the rolls of House Pax has failed. The motion to initiate a round of voting to elect a new Emir of The Torus Heights has been raised and seconded. As an incumbent willing to continue serving, my name will be on the ballot. Are there any nominations for someone to oppose me?"

Shifter Pax, a medium sized red and gray robot with a slotted faceplate stepped forward. "I nominate Roller Pax."

"What?" Roller stammered out, stunned. He looked at Shifter nodding, and then noted the subtle smiles coming from various members in the room.

"Shifter Pax, I suggest you put more thought into your nominations." Olnius replied. "Even were I to think him to be a good candidate, he would still be far too young for such a position. Yes, legally he is of age to become emir, but from a practical standpoint, he needs years, if not vorns of experience and wisdom to become ready for such a responsibility."

"On this Olnius and I seem to agree." Roller muttered.

"What's the matter birthday boy, too much discomfort for you?" Loronus quipped with yet another uncharacteristic smile, the comment eliciting a small chuckle out of Stronghold.

"My nomination stands." Shifter stated.

"I second it." Stronghold added.

"Very well." Olnius replied. "Roller Pax, do you accept the nomination?"

Roller stared at Loronus and Stronghold for several moments, then shifted his optics to the supportive gaze of Torenia. After several long, silent moments his head slowly started nodding. "Yes, my emir, I accept the nomination."

Olnius stared disbelievingly at Roller before regaining his composure and turning to the crowd. "Are there any other nominations?" The room remained silent for over a minute before the emir continued. "Alright, as there are no further nominations, I will open up discussions. Who would speak for Roller of House Pax?"

"I will be the first." Stronghold called out before stepping toward the center of the well-lit room that gave the feel of being every bit as ancient as it truly was. He slowly turned, taking time to look and evaluate every face in the room before settling his gaze on Roller. "Aye, he's young. Aye, he's impulsive. Aye, he's made mistakes, and he'll be making more. But he's not so vain or stubborn as to not listen to a voice of dissention, or refuse to accept he may be wrong and change his mind when he's convinced of such. And he's strong of will, and honorable, and courageous, and despite more than a bit of evidence to the contrary, he's a sharp lad." The statement elicited chuckles from the crowd and a playful look of scorn from Roller. "And, perhaps most importantly, he reminds me of Arlon. He speaks of defending The Heights with Arlon's fire, he speaks of doing what's right and just as we all know Arlon always did, and as he always would were he not murdered. He draws the lines where they need to be drawn, where Arlon, and Paxus himself would draw them; not the current position, where they've been inched back to over the last sixth of a vorn."

"I admire the boy's convictions, his courage; I do not disagree with most of what you've said." Olnius interrupted. "But he would have us defy the government, defy the Prime."

"Bah!" Stronghold grumbled. "What Prime? We swore fealty to the Matrix. Sentinel Honorum is a jumped up enforcer who had the strength, name and influence at a moment gripped by the fear and uncertainty brought on by the murder of his predecessor; another so-called Prime with a chest devoid of the Matrix's wisdom! We need no Prime selected by a weak and corrupt senate, we need only follow a strong emir wholly devoted to The Torus Heights!" The hulking robot asserted.

"I am not the conciliatory weakling you, Roller, and others have painted me to be." Olnius growled. "Just ask Roller."

They all looked to Roller, who shook his head. "On one issue, which I would rather not discuss, he has shown a willingness to defy the government. Not an open defiance, but he's kept information that they were unaware he had access to, information they wanted, to himself."

After a long moment of silence Loronus stepped forward. "And should it have become known that you had access to this information, whatever it may be, and the Prime demanded it of you, would you have provided it?"

"You've the strength to passively defy through omission," Stronghold followed, "but have ye the strength to look Sentinel Prime in the optics, listen to him order you to divulge what you're privy to, and tell him no?"

Olnius Pax stared at both of them heatedly. "I would have to weigh the good of House Pax against such a defiance." He replied. "Honestly, I don't know how I would respond."

"He does." Stronghold nodded toward Roller.

"Enough." Olnius ended it. "I believe we've heard all we need to hear about Roller Pax. As for me, you all know my record. I've kept us safe, I've kept us from a war that would destroy our House and ravage our emirate, I've kept the honor and planetary status of House Pax intact at a time when all these things seemed virtually impossible. All while my fellow candidate was actively trying to end our safety, peace, security and good name. It all boils down to a simple question; what do you place more value on, revenge for Arlon, or the future wellbeing of our House."

"Olnius," Roller muttered, "the true question is whether or not we believe Sentinel Honorum will ever give up his desire to subdue us, which is unlikely, or his obsession to eliminate Orion Pax, which I assure you, he never will. One way or another, he will continue to demand the impossible of us, until we're finally out of options by which to buy time. We have no choice, conflict with Nova Cronum is inevitable, I seek only to be prepared as best we can for when it comes." Roller looked out to the other members of House Pax. "I will not initiate aggression with Nova Cronum, as emir I will employ far more diplomacy than I ever have as a minor with no official responsibility. But I will see to it that outside forces will not roll over us. I will not lay down and be Sentinel Honorum's dog. The Torus Heights will stand strong against tyranny, just as it was always meant to. This I swear."

"You are a young fool." Olnus growled.

"Perhaps." Roller replied with a shrug. "I was taught to always do what is honorable and just; should that run in opposition to wisdom, so be it."

Olnius smiled. "On that note, we will open up the voting on the morrow." With that he marched toward and then through the doors and into the hallway.

Starscream

Despite appearances, they weren't all here. In actuality there were probably twenty percent that needed to remain behind doing what they normally do in their regular lives to keep up appearances, but those that did heed the call and come here seemed to stretch on forever. Starscream stood on the cliff overlooking the canyon below, one cut into the metal and stone of the Pentiathan, the five peak mountain cluster in the borderlands joining the southwestern Tagan Heights, the western badlands of Polyhex, the eastern and northeastern badlands of Nyon, and southeastern Tyrest, so named in reference to the ancient demon gods of Cybertron that were either killed or driven out, depending on which legend you subscribed to, by pre-Knight era Cybertronians through the grace of Primus or The Hand, depending on which faith you subscribed to. It was considered the Primeval Age of the Transformers, the few million years between the emergence of their species and the rise of the Sparkeaters, a time when the organic demons that held dominion over the world witnessed the rise of intelligent mechanical life and saw the threat they posed. The demons were many, but they were mortal, so they sought to strengthen themselves and attain the immortality held by the higher spark-bearing lifeforms by altering themselves, binding groups of five into one nearly entirely mechanical form, shedding nearly all of their flesh, blood and bone to combine their thoughts as well as their bodies.

They attempted to enslave the masses of intelligent robots, but unlike the giant mechanicals that had preceded them, the numbers of the current species of Transformers were vast, each Vectoral pulse giving rise to hundreds, sometime over a thousand. In only a few millennia the numbers of Transformers had grown dangerously high. Culling was done, but that made the populace unruly, untrusting, and uprisings came about. Each was more difficult to quell than the last. The one aspect most legends seemed to agree on was that a clan from a hotspot just a few hundred miles due north of where Starscream now stood began conspiring against the demon-lords. Those that would in time become House Convoy created an underground movement, much like Starscream, Megatron and Soundwave were doing now, to help the oppressed but superior creatures rise up and remove the predecessors that were holding them down. The final uprising began fifteen and a half million years ago, and took five hundred thousand years to achieve victory over the demon-lords, killing them, exiling them off-world, or a myriad of other less plausible fates. Some legends claim that with their parting shot, the demon-lords used their alchemy to violate the frames of Transformer prisoners, turning them into the first Sparkeaters. Some legends claim that it was from this valley that the Sparkeaters spread out to end existence for all spark-bearing life, so a link to the demon-lords would seem possible, given that these peaks were named after their greatest warlords.

The region was a wasteland, and the mountain range considered cursed. No permanent settlements had ever sprung up within two hundred miles of this land, only travelers and nomads ever walked this ground, and those that did were very few in number. Even the airspace was usually clear of traffic. It was the reason Megatron had chosen this place for his grand assembly. He could stand before his followers, for the first time for the majority of them, and address them. Starscream was standing upon an outcropping jutting out from Mount Kedji, standing at Megatron's left side, Soundwave opposite him at the chrome gladiator's right. The only officer missing, the only member of their underground movement of any note to not be here, was Shockwave, who Megatron mentioned had other work to do. Megatron finally stepped forward to the edge of the outcropping, looking out over his followers, who numbered in excess of one hundred thousand, and smiled at the nearly deafening roar blasting up at him from the canyon below. Starscream was unable to hide the look of agitation that came over his face as uncontainable jealousy coursed through his frame. Megatron was a brutish, savage, lowbrow thug. He had his place, he certainly contained cunning, but he was unrefined and unpolished…figuratively anyway, his immaculate frame was certainly glistening in the setting sun, but any metal can be cleaned and made shiny. He would certainly make a valuable asset, a top-tier commander really, but he was not remotely of the same caliber as Starscream. He lacked finesse, he lacked class, and the fact that he would be the head of this army, and in time, this planet, irked Starscream to no end. But Starscream was patient, and in time Megatron would leave himself open and vulnerable, and at that time, Starscream would take advantage of the situation, remove Megatron, and take his rightful place as ruler of Cybertron. Starscream Prime…no, Star Prime…no, Screamus Prime…

"My Chosen!" Megatron bellowed out over the canyon below, his voice nothing short of thunder, the smile on his face beaming approval that even those miles away could see, interrupting Starscream's thoughts. "We are here to celebrate our accomplishments! We are here to celebrate our greatness! We are here to bring us all together for the first time; to show you, all of you, the scope, the power of our cause, our movement, our ARMY!"

The valley roared back, causing Starscream to turn his head in near pain brought on by the tidal wave of sound. Megatron raised his hand, and the roar almost immediately went silent. "There have been hints of us, there are even those who know we exist, but none have an accurate idea of what we truly are! We are nothing but myth; exaggerations of criminal organizations or Autobot propaganda to draw attention away from them! For fifteen years our Grand Deception has been at work! Faith in the Prime has never been lower! The nobility considers Prime's government a failure! We've incited the commoners to hunt and despise those Autobots that would represent and champion them! And through it all, we've positioned ourselves in positions of power and influence! We've enlisted the influential in every facet of society! Soldiers! Criminals! Politicians! Industrialists! Scientists! Royals! My Chosen, our Grand Deception is coming to an end! Soon, very soon, we shall reveal ourselves to all of Cybertron! They shall know, finally, who we are, what we've been doing in plain sight for so many years, and they shall know of their new place in OUR world! They shall know and despair at being deceived by those they once looked down on, but now must accept as their betters; their masters! We are no longer gladiators, laborers, criminals, commoners! No, my Chosen, we are now and always, Decepticons!" The roars of the crowd had to have carried for dozens of miles, even out here in the badlands it seemed impossible to Starscream that they were not heard. But as Megatron had boasted, the time of deception was almost done. There was no stopping them now.

Megatron's grin seemed impossibly broad as he beamed over their vast army of newly dubbed Decepticons, and stomped his right foot to release the banner that had been positioned just under the ledge they were on to unfurl over the cliff below them and over the on-looking Decepticons. The giant gray canvas dropped down, revealing the giant image of the purple Warrior's jagged, angular face etched into the center of it. Megatron then reached up to his chest, and rubbed his right hand across it, wiping away the thin layer of chrome paint that had been covering the purple Warrior's face painted across the center of his breast plate. "We do not brandish the face of the Common Man, like the Autobots, because we do not represent the comman man; we are not common men! We are the exceptional, we are the dominant, we are the elite! The only sigil worthy of us is the face of the Warrior, because that is what we Decepticons are! Nothing else is worthy of representing us! Decepticons Forever!"

The chrome would-be conqueror grinned out over the boisterous throngs for over a minute before finally turning to Soundwave and nodding, walking back and disappearing into the cavern behind them all. Soundwave walked forward to the edge where Megatron had just departed from and transformed into his shell mode, a communications array. "Decepticons! You have all been broken into legions. Assemble with your legions, your commanders will provide you with your assignments. Once you have your assignment, disperse and carry out your instructions! Decepticons forever!"

Starscream watched, almost angrily, as the countless throngs assembled into their groupings with exceptional efficiency. Megatron was a clod, yet somehow he managed to get the best out of these unwashed assets. Imagine what a true leader could get them to accomplish.

Wreck Gar

Despite the vehement protests of his officers and soldiers, he rode out with only Weirdal Lo-Gar and Pinion from the imposing gates of the capital city and sped over the piles of junk, layers of it dug up to be piled over the countless corpses. Thousands of his fellow Junkions, warriors who had fought both with him and against him laid dead; the Gar of Junk nearly wept when he considered what the percentage of the population had been reduced by in the nine years of warfare that they had experienced. The western plains outside Junkion Prime had been the sight of the most horrific carnage of the six day siege Detritus's army had levied against the planetary capital. Perhaps Detritus chose this place to treat because of the clearly displayed death and destruction; a way of showing what had been done because of their conflict, and what would continue to be done should Wreck Gar continue to oppose the would-be-usurper.

Detritus stood ahead, alone, before a table neatly laid out upon a hill of debris. It was undoubtedly piled over corpses, but in a rare showing of good taste and diplomacy he had covered the death of their meeting place. He greeted them with a smile, his hordes lined up half a mile beyond them looking on threateningly, but holding their positions as Detritus had vowed they would. Even with them holding their position, Wreck Gar and his companions had put their lives in danger; should Detritus give the word, there was little chance of them getting back within the city gates alive. A half mile was not enough buffer, especially for the relatively slow moving Weirdal. But defending the city had forced them to expend all but a precious sliver of their remaining energy resources, even a percentage of their swill rations had been reassigned for defensive weaponry. They didn't have the strength to break the siege, and they would soon be starving if they remained within the city. And any outside help was unlikely, even if one of his generals could return to the capital as they were days away at best. Hazmat, Recycle, Scrapheap and Shearbolt were in the eastern hemisphere, Scrap Iron was thousands of miles south and Rubbish was thousands of miles north. Only his Lo-Gar Orion Pax was anywhere near this sector of the planet, and in all likelihood he was dead or soon would be. The Pax Lo-Gar had taken a force of five hundred soldiers to break Greasestain's control over the Compostus sector. Greasestain had over four thousand soldiers under his command, securely holding the sector and raining tyranny down upon its inhabitants. The young general had assured Wreck Gar that he could overcome the odds, break Greasestain's control of Compostus Prime, and bring relief to the citizenry; and Wreck Gar, ever the trusting fool when it came to Orion Pax, believed him and sent him out against the impossible odds.

He transformed along with his comrades, and stepped to the table across from Detritus, gazing warily at the army amassed behind his former friend. "I'm taking quite a chance here, Detritus. I hope shreds of the honor you once had still reside within you and keep you from murdering us."

A small laugh escaped Detritus's rust-covered lips. "If not honor, you can at least count on my common sense keeping me from calling you out with promises of good faith and then murdering you. I don't need trickery to defeat you, I only need a bit more time and wait for your forces to starve. And besides, most of my men would likely abandon my cause were I to do something as disgraceful as invite you to treat and then have my warriors fall upon you."

"Half forces bein' murderin' and no honor, like da' Detritus." Pinion muttered. "Half forces bein 'scripted, bein to fight for da' Detritus or be dyin'…or havin' der loved ones be dyin'."

"You are not to speak again." Detritus snarled at Pinion, turning to Wreck Gar. "His insipid gibberish is painful enough to my audio receptors that I'm tempted to view it as an assault."

"Enough." Wreck Gar grumbled. "Tell us what you've called us here to tell us."

"Of course, my old friend." Detritus replied, readopting his grin. "I've asked you here to point out the obvious. You're outnumbered and outclassed on the battlefield, but remaining within the walls of Junkion Prime is no longer an option either. You've tried to break our siege, but you've failed and paid a tremendous price for it. Any help is too far away, and the only general you had close enough to have aided you led his army of a few hundred into a host of thousands. Orion Pax is dead, his army routed. Help will not be coming." Detritus lost his smile, taking on a look of sadness as he started to slowly walk around the table to the other party, causing Weirdal Lo-Gar and Pinion to take defensive postures and Wreck Gar to merely glare at him warily. "My friend, so many of us have died, our people have been decimated, all because of a mistake that is now dead. Our reason to fight is no longer there, please, brother, let us put this conflict aside. Your judgement in taking in the homeworlder is such that you can no longer remain Gar, but I have no desire to see you dead. You must believe me, I am not acting out of vengeance or cruelty." He reached out to place his hand on Wreck Gar's shoulder, but the defender of Junkion Prime stepped back to avoid the touch. Detritus continued speaking anyway. "I know you have no desire to hear this, but I mourned Nan-Cee as you did. Had I been there, had I known she was there…well, things would have turned out differently, that I promise you. But that damn fool Pax enlisted her to…"

"Shut your mouth." Wreck Gar snarled in a low, threatening voice. "You will not speak her name, nor will you put her death on anyone other than yourself and your attack dogs."

Detritus glared at Wreck Gar angrily for a moment before shrugging. "Fine, then hear my proposal. Kneel and live, or stand and die."

"You know my answer." Wreck Gar growled. "You knew what my answer would be before summoning me here. What is the purpose of this meeting…the true purpose?"

Detritus backed up back to his side of the table and grinned again. "Pinion is an idiot, but he was right. My army is divided into those that share my values, specifically that honor is nice to have only to the point where it gets in the way of attaining your goals, and those that fight because if they don't, they and their loved ones will die horrific deaths."

"We were never going to return to Junkion Prime, were we?" Weirdal Lo-Gar pressed, already aware of the answer. Detritus turned his grin upon Weirdal, but a horn blaring out from the city walls prevented him from responding right away. They all turned to look toward the walls of the city, hoping for some clarification of what the horn represented. "A force approaches from the south." Weirdal announced as he saw the soldiers positioned on the ramparts looking in that direction. They all turned to look in that direction.

"From Compostus." Pinion muttered.

"Good." Detritus smirked as they all caught sight of dust and other debris being kicked up by a large number of vehicles in the distance heading toward the city. "Greasestain is finished with Pax's forces and has sent some of his here to aid me. The war is over Wreck. I urge you once again to surrender."

Wreck Gar stared at the approaching horde, one that numbered over a thousand. Orion Pax had left with half that number, so any hope that this oncoming force was his immediately evaporated. Detritus's eight thousand strong force was now nine thousand strong, against the starving two thousand Wreck Gar still had defending the city. And these reinforcements would be bringing energy resources as well as their swords, spears and axes. Detritus was right, the war was effectively over. "Detritus…"

Detritus turned and smiled at his friend. "It's Detritus Gar, my old friend. If you plan on continuing to live, I suggest you get used to using my proper title."

"The citizens, those that opposed you?" Wreck Gar asked.

"Say my name." Detritus pressed.

"First, assure me. Assure me that complete amnesty and forgiveness,"

"Say my name!" Detritus yelled, but seemed to calm, and readopted his smirk. "Actually, now that Pax's defeat has been confirmed, I have no more reason to hide anything from you. There will be no amnesty. Those that fight for you will be slaughtered. You will be slaughtered. Pinion will be lowered into the Acid Sea, an inch of his body each day. He'll linger for weeks in agony before finally expiring."

A look of rage came over Wreck Gar's face as he and his comrades took a step back and drew their melee weapons, axes for Wreck Gar and Weirdal, a short sword for Pinion. He was about to charge Detritus, who now had his own sword drawn and was summoning his forces to march forward when an amplified voice called out from the ramparts of the city. "PAX LOOOOO-GARRRRRRR!"

The call was immediately followed by the thunderous sound of the oncoming force crashing into and through the fifteen hundred soldiers lined up outside the southern walls of the city. The sounds of calamitous impact and subsequent battle was joined by the cheers of thousands from within the city. Despite the overwhelming noise, Wreck Gar had no difficulty hearing the whispered denial from Detritus. "Impossible."

"PAX…PAX…PAX…PAX…PAX… PAX…PAX…PAX…PAX…PAX… PAX…PAX…PAX…PAX…PAX!"

Wreck Gar glared at Detritus, who's stare of the chaos going on off in the distance to his right finally broke and locked onto Wreck Gar's gaze. "This changes nothing! You will die!"

"He's through!" Weirdal called out, prompting them both to turn and see a hulking gray form burst through the other side of Detritus's southern forces, laying low four besiegers with a single swipe of Pax's cybertanium axe. The hulking robotic form battered seven more to death or non-functionality before turning to stare across the several miles separating them. The gray hulk began shaking a bit, shucking off the massive gray portions of armor, allowing it to fall to the ground to reveal Orion Pax underneath. Pax reached down, adjusted the armor into a wedge shape, transformed to his truck mode, and drove into the back of the wedge, clamping on to it and speeding toward the two Gars.

"Impossible!" Detritus roared. By this point Detritus's forces had arrived and were surrounding them. To the south the hole that Orion and his vanguard had cut through Detritus's southern forces was allowing the bulk of Orion's other forces to pass through toward the city. By the time the armored Orion reached the western forces surrounding Detritus, Wreck Gar, Weirdal and Pinion, the majority of reinforcements had reached the western gates and were being allowed into Junkion Prime.

Orion pulled to a stop, transformed, and reformed and reapplied his thick, gray armor. The transformation, application of the armor, and the gripping the axe in a battle-ready position took roughly five seconds. "Detritus, I know you're in there! Let's talk!"

"Pax, you royal bitch, why would I want to talk to you?" Detritus called out from within the three hundred soldiers surrounding him.

"Because I'm about to tell you that if anything happens to Wreck Gar, Weirdal Lo-Gar or Pinion, I will cut through your forces, get to you, and butcher you in the most painful way time will permit me," Orion called out from underneath a plain but effective and very thick gray helmet, "and I want to be certain that you hear me clearly."

"Pax, my friend, I thought I only gave you five hundred troops." Wreck Gar called out. "You seem to have doubled that number."

Orion laughed. "It's good to hear your voice, my Gar. It seems that as the tide of battle shifted our way in Compostus, those that were conscripted were more than eager to either flee or join me voluntarily and oppose their oppressors." The helmeted Pax rolled his gaze over the soldiers arrayed before him. "Oh, and for you soldiers, please note that this siege has been broken, the tide of this battle is about to shift our way, and that those here that are conscripts are free to leave or join us too."

"Detritus Gar's personal guard consists of no conscripts." A Junkion warrior snarled at Pax.

"Good to know. Should we be unable to reach a peaceful solution here, I'll be cutting through you all with a clear conscious." Pax announced as he walked forward in a non-threatening way, but exuding the air that he would not be stopped. The soldiers hesitantly parted, allowing him to come within two dozen yards of Detritus and the captives, the soldiers providing him an unobstructed view of them, but making it clear that they would not let him get any closer. "This is better. My Gar, in addition to the forces I've brought to Junkion Prime, I've also brought eighteen hundred pounds of swill, and enough raw energy resources to produce twice that."

"My Lo-Gar," Wreck Gar gasped, "you've saved us."

Orion turned to Detritus. "I've brought you something as well." He reached into a compartment in the armor of his upper back and pulled something out. He tossed it to Detritus, who caught it and looked down into the lifeless optics of Greasestain's head. "As you can see, I was unable to reach a peaceful solution in Compostus Prime."

A look of rage twisted over Detritus's face. "Why should I not kill you and hurl your head over the walls of Junkion Prime?"

"Because you can't." Orion replied, his tone oddly lacking any sense of arrogance despite what he had just said. "You were there when I presented that axe to Wreck Gar, and you expressed an interest in owning the one I have in my hands right now. You were there when I explained where I had obtained the cybertanium used to make these weapons. Well, a few years ago, I went back to the sunken ship and got some more of the alloy. I figured it would be useful to have, but didn't know in what capacity I would be able to use it. Then in the campaign where we liberated my home of Refurbia Prime I took a great deal of damage when charging through the occupation forces. I already had been experimenting with armor, more often than not I wear my faceplate, though I think that's more to offset the impression that I'm young…anyway, the armor I had been experimenting with had really not added much in the way of value given how durable my naked frame already was. But cybertanium, that's impervious to any melee weapon. The downside to this sort of armor is that it's so damn heavy and unwieldy. At least it is to most." Pax opened his arms to fully present the armor covering most of his body. "I'm strong enough so that wearing it only marginally slows me down, and I have yet to reach the point of fatigue where it becomes more an impediment than asset. And in every battle I've worn this armor, I've cut through your forces like an artillery shell through organics."

"Magnificent." Wreck Gar muttered admirably. "Your very own Apex Armor."

Orion chuckled. "Funny you mention that. I was actually dating a descendant of Solus. Had we continued dating, and if it ever really existed, and if it still exists, and House Solus still has it, I might have seen the real Apex Armor by now."

"What?" Weirdal muttered.

"Knights of Cybertron legend." Wreck Gar replied. "Solus, possibly with the help of the Matrix, created armor that enhanced the wearer's strength and durability vastly, but could only be worn by the most noble and courageous. She also created the Star Saber, also guided to do so with the power and wisdom of the Matrix, but gifted it to Honorus. Apparently it could cut through armies, even armies of Sparkeaters. Machtus had a fusion cannon that could also cut through armies that he had mounted on his arm, but that was created independent of Solus and the Matrix."

"Pointless legends of things that either never existed, or whose characteristics were embellished to absurd levels." Detritus grumbled. "Much like Pax's potency in battle, with or without that armor."

"Perhaps my skill in battle has been exaggerated. I'd suggest asking Greasestain, but he hasn't been very talkative since I removed his head." Pax snapped back. "But you could check with your southern flank, they might have a comment or two about my potency."

"Actually, I was just surprised to hear Pax had a girlfriend." Weirdal inserted with a smile.

"Detritus, even you have to realize that from this distance, should I want to, I'd get to you." Pax stated. "But you allow me to return to Junkion Prime with Wreck Gar, Weirdal Lo-Gar and Pinion, and you can place as many thousand warriors between us that you have. It's your choice, but know that should you act upon us right now, your forces MIGHT kill Wreck Gar, or me, or both of us, but I WILL kill you."

Detritus stared intently at Pax, then looked off to the south where his forces had been gutted. Of the fifteen hundred soldiers that had been positioned there, less than half seemed to be moving. Granted, the majority of the casualties were caused by Pax's soldiers, who were now within the city and too far to be of much aid to them, but Pax had been the first one to slam into his soldiers, and had cut through almost unfettered. It was that fact that made his decision. Orion Pax in his armor may not be able to kill all his soldiers here, but he could push through them and get to him before they would be able to cut him down. "Go, all of you! But know that this siege has only just begun, you will be forced to face us on the open field, and you will be cut down to your last man."

"Detritus." Wreck Gar called out as he reached Orion and turned back to his enemy. "Our soldiers need not die. Let's settle this between the two of us."

Detritus laughed. "Why would I give up such a clear battlefield advantage?"

"To spare the lives of those you call your people." Wreck Gar replied.

"My people are best served by my victory over you." Detritus grumbled. "Flee back to your walls, and await destruction."

Wreck Gar, Orion Pax, Weirdal and Pinion turned, transformed and sped out toward the gates of Junkion Prime. They were immediately admitted, and transformed back to robot mode once on the other side of the wall. "Well my friend, once again you've proven your worth, but I fear our real work is about to begin." Wreck Gar stated as Orion stepped away from his armor on the ground, allowing the Gar of Junkion to clasp his shoulders affectionately.

"You're right, my Gar." Pax replied, a look of intensity on his face. "The soldiers I returned with are fully fueled and ready for battle. I know that the ones here in the city are starved, but I feel that the best time to strike, perhaps the only time to strike, is now."

Wreck Gar stared intently up into the optic of the homeworlder. He was right, those that had been defending the city were starved, but if they could end this siege…if they could end this war… "What do you have in mind?"

"Nearly half of his force is conscripted, with no true loyalty to Detritus." Orion stated. "A good portion of the rest are only loyal to the extent that it serves their best interests. I feel that if we were to present a viable threat to their victory, much of these forces would melt away, some might even join us. And should we reach him, and cut him down, those that are left will flee or surrender immediately. It's what happened in Compostus, and I'm sure it'll happen here. But he's aware of what happened to Greasestain and has no interest in allowing me to do that to him, so cutting through to him will be increasingly difficult with each passing minute."

"I thought you could cut through like artillery." Weirdal questioned, a smirk on his face.

Orion shrugged and displayed a childish grin. "I may have exaggerated a bit. Detritus is the type to be unnerved by an arrogant opponent with just enough ability to back up some of that arrogance." He turned back to Wreck Gar. "But with just those few hundred, armed with only melee weapons, I have no doubt I can get to Detritus and end the threat he poses. I may get killed in the process, but if it ends this war, it's a sacrifice worth making."

"I promised Atrium that you wouldn't be harmed." Wreck Gar replied.

"Then if I'm killed, apologize to him if and when he ever returns." Orion replied. "But your duty is to your people. If my death can end this war, you're obligated to do it."

"You will charge out." Wreck Gar replied after a silent minute of thought. "But I will be with you. Cut me a path, and leave Detritus to me. Your fate will be my fate, and frankly, I want to be the one to kill the bastard."

Orion considered objecting, but he knew Wreck Gar wasn't going to give. "Then energize yourself my Gar, you won't stand a chance if you're near empty."

It was less than an hour later when the gates were thrown open again, and Wreck Gar studied the battle field and locked on to Detritus. While they were charging and making preparations they had their lookouts supply bi-minute reports of the besiegers' activity. The bulk of the activity was directed toward reinforcing the southern force, but Detritus had been getting in a few hundred more troops to surround him. It was not as easy a task as one would think, as he required loyal soldiers to make up his personal guard, but at the same time he needed enough loyal soldiers positioned throughout his army to keep the almost as numerous conscripts in line and intimidated into not rebelling or deserting. It was clear, based on the surprise on Detritus's face, that his repositioning of troops was not complete…that, or the idea that Wreck Gar and his forces would just charge out and attack him head on was impossible. It normally would be a foolhardy course of action; the vast majority of his troops were being used in this assault, and it would be a very short period of time before Detritus's troops from other points around the city would swoop in the surround them. Orion Pax felt that they could cut off the head of the serpent prior to that happening, but Wreck Gar had his doubts. Those doubts weren't enough for him to lose faith in his most valuable general, but they poked at his thoughts none the less.

Pax sped out ahead, his massive, cybertanium wedge plowing through the dozens of unfortunate warriors that were directly in front of him. He had gone through fifteen rows of lined soldiers before he finally slowed, transformed, and reapplied his incredibly heavy armor. Wreck Gar had lifted several pieces while they made their preparations, and simply could not believe the ease by which Orion carried and wielded it. Of course, it's effectiveness was beyond question, as dozens of blades swarmed down on him, and dozens of blades bounced away harmlessly. Conversely, Pax's axe cut through the throngs as if they were made of gestational metallico. Part of that was Pax's raw power, part was due to the material and craftsmanship of the weapon itself, which Wreck Gar was reminded of as he used his own cybertanium axe to cut through besiegers. He tried to keep up with Pax, but the hundreds of warriors recognizing him and trying to kill him kept him busy.

Their surge pushed through Detritus's personal guard very effectively, but there reached a point where the advance was slowed to a crawl, and the reinforcements were arriving. Their flanks and rearguard were forced to turn and engage the reinforcements surrounding them, and the little progress they were making came to a stop. A blade from behind slipped past and cut into Wreck Gar's side; it was painful, but not particularly damaging, especially for a Junkion, but he knew that it would be the first of many, and each wound would take a toll that would drive him ever closer to defeat. To death really, but defeat, and Detritus ruling brutally over his people was the true fear for Wreck Gar.

He looked up toward Orion, who was being swarmed by dozens of warriors, finally recognizing that their blades were useless, but their bulk, their sheer numbers, could put a stop to the homeworlder. Orion's advance, once considered an unstoppable certainly, had ceased, a despondent Wreck Gar was forced to acknowledge as a second blade slipped into him from behind. A hill of Junkions was forming on top of Orion, and soon there was nothing but the swarm of those loyal to Detritus visible, piled body on top of body on top of body. Orion was a personal threat to Detritus, but only so long as Wreck Gar's forces were there to occupy Detritus's forces. But by keeping him contained, at least long enough to remove the threat of Junkions loyal to Wreck Gar, he would never be able to get at Detritus. It was a simple, almost childish strategy, but it seemed to be working.

Wreck Gar gasped as a spear cut through his left shoulder. He could feel himself weakening. He fought on valiantly, but the hope along with his strength was ebbing away. That was until he saw a blue fist blast through the side of a hill of orange, brown, yellow and black Junkion. He watched as another blue hand, and red forearms behind them dug through the pile of besiegers, and Orion pried himself out from underneath. All but a few who had been on top of him thought they still were; likely because they were still on the armor Pax has been wearing. But he was free, devoid of armor or weapon, but free, and reached out toward two of Detritus's soldiers and battered them down with his fists, plucking a sword from each of the unconscious warriors.

At seeing Orion free and fighting, Wreck Gar felt a renewed sense of strength and determination surge through him. He pulled the spear-tip out from his shoulder and split the head of its wielder in half with a blow from his axe. He cut forward, slicing through enemies until he was right behind Orion. "Pax! Thank Primus you made it out of that!"

Orion turned and grinned, his face sliced up in several places and streaked with various fluids. "I think most of them still think they have me." He called out over the sounds of battle, his blades a blur of murderous motion, his combination of raw power, nearly super-cybertronian speed, and skilled swordsmanship allowed him to cut down dozens in seconds. Where an armored Pax was an unstoppable juggernaut, an unarmored Pax was a blur of destructive force.

"Let them! Twenty fewer of the bastards to deal with." Wreck Gar called out as they created a rhythm of slicing that cut a swath through the enemy soldiers. Fifty yards ahead stood a suddenly very nervous looking Detritus. "I want him!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Wreck Gar!" Pax called out. "Focus on the enemies around us!" Wreck Gar took the words to spark and noted those between them and Detritus. His spark leapt at seeing the numbers thinning by the second, he and Pax were effectively whittling them away, but then he despaired as dozens, even hundreds swooped in and positioned themselves in front of Detritus. The bastard's grin was more painful than the slashes cutting across his frame every few seconds.

It was hopeless, there were just too many of them. No matter how many they cut down, there were twice as many to take the place of the fallen. These soldiers were just as deadly, just as devoted…except, Wreck Gar noticed, they weren't as deadly. A slash to the arm and they'd fall away to the ground and play dead, a light bump and they'd topple over. And their optics, it wasn't rage, or spark-lust staring back at Wreck Gar now, no, it was fear.

"Conscripted soldiers!" Orion bellowed out as he stopped. Nine warriors stood before him, six ceased their attacks on him, three surged forward to impale him. Two slashes later and those three were dead on the ground. Orion pointed a sword at Detritus twenty yards ahead. "Take the traitor into custody!"

"What?" Detritus roared in rage and surprise. "Cut down Pax and Wreck, and all those that follow them! Do it now!"

"Whether you stand with us, flee, or stand against us, I will get to Detritus, this I vow!" Pax roared. "Do you really wish to die fighting for one who will be following you in death moments later?" To punctuate the point, Orion leapt up and flung the sword in his left hand at Detritus, impaling it in his right thigh. Detritus howled in pain, and Orion landed and snatched a sword from the hand of one of the uncertain soldiers standing near him. "Now is your chance! Either you turn on he who enslaved you, you flee, or you stand against me, but you must decide now!" Pax waited a moment before recommencing his surge forward. As he had hoped, a quarter of those standing against him turned and fled, and another quarter turned to aid their push toward Detritus.

Unfortunately a new wave of warriors swarmed in to defend Detritus, and this group was far more loyal. "Wreck Gar!" Orion called out.

"What is it?" Wreck Gar called back as he continued slicing but forced to move back.

"Transform and be ready to hit the ground!" Orion called out. "Now!" Not sure what was going on, Wreck Gar chose to trust the young homeworlder and comply, transforming to his dual-wheeled ground cruiser mode. Orion dropped his swords, allowing the blades that had been trying to gain access to him finally strike him, but he ignored the attacks, gripped the two-wheeled vehicle and flung it over the heads of the warriors, through the air, and beyond Detritus. Wreck Gar's tires his the ground hard, but were already spinning and he sped out over the hills of garbage and circled back toward Detritus. Wreck Gar transformed and caught his axe as it was cast out from the transformation.

The stunned Detritus barely got his broadsword up in time to block the oncoming axe blade. The two traded savage blow after savage blow. Soldiers charged toward them to intervene, but Wreck Gar was able to slice one away while others were kept occupied by blades being thrown at them by Orion, who was plucking them away from those assaulting him. He was still the most effective warrior on the battlefield by a wide margin, but he was slowing down, the damage to his frame finally catching up to him. But Wreck Gar couldn't worry about Orion Pax right now, he needed to focus on Detritus. "All this murder, all this waste and destruction. All for nothing! You've decimated our race for your own Primus-damned ego!" Wreck Gar slashed under Detritus's sword, cutting through his abdomen.

"Bastard!" Detritus snarled. "You would have us become slaves to the nobility of the home world again!" He hammered down with his broadsword heavily, but Wreck Gar parried it away and slashed back, cutting through his left optic. "Arrrrr!"

"You don't believe that!" Wreck Gar roared as he swung down, cutting through the left thigh of Detritus, causing his would be replacement to fall painfully to the ground. "You never believed that! It was all just an excuse to seize power!" Wreck Gar raised his axe blade high into the air, grunting as a soldier thrust his sword blade into his lower back, but ignoring the pain and damage.

"No!" Detritus cried out, raising his hand to stop the killing blow.

But Wreck Gar would not be deterred by attack or by plea, and the blade came down, buried deep into Detritus's chest. Wreck Gar locked optics with Detritus, and watched as those of his enemy went black. "Such a waste." Wreck Gar grumbled as he whirled around to see the soldier who had stabbed him. The warrior had released his sword and was staring down at the corpse of Detritus. "Do you wish to follow him in death?" Wreck Gar muttered to the stunned warrior, who finally looked up at him and shook his head. "Then flee before I come to terms with the fact that you stabbed your Gar in the back." The Junkion nodded and turned, transforming and speeding away. Wreck Gar looked to the battle, still raging just yards away, a seas of combatants stretching almost all the way to the walls of the city. He turned back to the corpse, pulled out his axe, stepped to the side of Detritus's body, and once again brought the blade down. He dropped the axe, painfully bent over and gripped something. "Orion!"

Orion and dozens of other soldiers turned to look at him, and stopped as they saw Wreck Gar with Detritus's head in his hands. Slowly, all those near turned, saw, and ceased their fighting. But others were needlessly dying, others who didn't see. "My Gar." Orion said as he pushed through the soldiers toward him. He was savaged, his once handsome face was shredded, his frame, renowned for its durability, was battered and sliced open in many spots. But he walked forward as if he felt no pain, and lowered before Wreck Gar. The Gar was about to reprimand him; Junkions do not kneel, but he saw what Orion had in mind. His hands were low and cupped, an invitation for his feet. Wreck Gar stepped into his hands, and a moment later he was standing upon the outstretched hands of Orion Pax, high over the heads of all, and he raised his own hands to display the severed head of Detritus. It took several moments for the battles to ebb and finally stop, as all combatants finally turned to see. Detritus was dead, Wreck was still the Gar, and the war was over.

Reptilion

His body dropped back, falling into his chair and fought off the disbelief just enough to allow a decade and a half's worth of stress and pressure to fall off his frame. The theories and experimentations had begun long before that, but it wasn't until Mindwipe had joined the Wardens of the Tartarun Gates that the clock truly started ticking. He let his head drop back and he gazed up at the dark, dusty ceiling above, taking in the details of the multitude of arachnid webs covering it nearly entirely. He really wasn't much at housecleaning, though who cared? Guests were rare, the majority of which were slobs like him, and the two royals and one noble who'd ever been here, Shockwave, Soundwave and Lugnut Boltax, had not stepped foot in this portion of his facility. Not that the other sections were much cleaner, but they truly didn't care about his housecleaning tendencies. They weren't visiting to share energon rations over a table, they were only interested in the weapons he made for them.

But these creations, this monumental achievement, was not for the Waves, Boltax, or that commoner Megatron. This was for him, and for his fellow Cult of the Sparkeater brothers. Brothers. It was a title, little more than a frequently used term, he really didn't consider any of them brothers; frankly, he couldn't stand the vast majority of them. They just shared an interest, and they shared it for wildly varying reasons. Most members were social outcasts seeing this as a way to not just fit in with a group, but to identify with powerful, irresistible creatures of legend. Creatures that society, the same society that had been tormenting them their entire existence, was terrified of. Others saw it as a possible way of becoming something more powerful than they currently were. Reptilion though, he was attracted to it in part due to the latter reason; who wouldn't want to be more powerful? But the primary drive was his own unquenchable scientific curiosity. Did they really exist? Something spawning the legend must have, why else build the Tartarun Gates and maintain a veritable army there for fifteen million years? Were they really that powerful? Likely not, though they must pose a very real threat for a Guardian to spend his entire existence standing vigil, and Mindwipe had been very clear that not only did the Guardian exist, but was every bit as big and powerful looking as legend depicts. There was undoubtedly something there, something more than just spark and metal, but what? What could be beneath the mountains there? What were the creatures trapped beneath a vault door thirty feet thick, a vault door that according to legend took Solus decades to construct and perfect?

'Well, perhaps not perfect,' the scientist mused as he peered down at another device that had taken him years to complete. Unlike the technorganic masterpieces on the far side of his lab, masterpieces that were making a painfully loud and unceasing droning, this device had been completed a couple years before. And based on the metallurgical readings Mindwipe had covertly taken while reciting his oaths of loyalty to the unsuspecting Guardian nearly a decade and a half ago, this device should prove sufficient to penetrate Solus's impenetrable gate. He scrutinized it, every detail, the boring structure, one which would use lasers, plasma bursts and good old fashioned dimoniam drill bits to cut through anything, the main box-like structure that housed a small, implosion type nuclear device, and the small propulsion jets mounted at the four corners of the end opposite the boring structure, with the control panel nestled between the four jets. It was the key; the key to finding out once and for all whether these majestic creatures truly existed, and if so, if they lived up to the legends they inspired.

Deciding that he had basked in the glory of his completion long enough, Reptilion reached forward toward the desk in front of him and opened up a communications channel. After a few buzzes it was finally answered by the familiar voice of Shokaract. "Who is this?"

"Get word to Mindwipe that it's done. We're ready. At least, I'm ready." Reptilion replied with a smile, a smile that widened as the pause on the other end seemed to stretch on.

"What?" A disbelieving Shokaract stammered back. "You're joking, right?"

"I don't joke, you know that." Reptilion replied.

"I…I can't believe it." Shokaract stated. "Like, your first trial batch is done?"

"The first successful trial batch was done some time ago." Reptilion responded with annoyance dripping from his voice. "I'm telling you that the swarm is complete."

"I…I…well, there are preparations to be made." The voice on the other end sputtered.

"Then make them. But know that any call I get from a frantic, insane Mindwipe will be forwarded to you." Reptilion snapped as he once again reached forward to press a button on the console. "Reptilion out."

Trepan

The short ride had been beyond pleasant, the transport Emir Onyx had chosen to take them to the dig site was far and away the most luxurious vehicle he had ever had the good fortune to travel in. It was so comfortable, so well equipped with the highest quality energon-based beverages, and staffed with servants skilled at attending to every need and desire, regardless of what that desire may be. The planet's foremost neurocyberologist almost wished the journey from the Draconyx Lair, citadel of House Onyx, and the dig site in the vast boneyard fields of Nyon had been longer. Even Ogrus Onyx had proven to be a pleasant companion, full of questions and observations. He was by no means intelligent, but he wasn't an idiot either, as most on the planet assumed.

The door was lowering, transitioning into the ramp that would lead them to the barren metal and rock that had been home to the treasure unearthed nine years ago, revealing six large, hulking robots in matching green and purple coloration. "Emir Onyx, thank you for gracing us with your presence." One of the two in the front called out, one Trepan recognized as Lord Scrapper Masonis from the files Emir Onyx had given him to read over, and Trepan subdued a grin as Scrapper bowed to the emir of Nyon, a motion followed immediately by the others in his group, including the other one standing in the center, the notoriously arrogant Hook of House Narkissos. Ogrus smiled at noting the looks of confusion on the faces of Scrapper, Hook and their four common-born colleagues at seeing the gray and red Trepan. Scrapper shook off his confusion at the unexpected and unknown guest and continued on. "We know that you will be more than pleased by the work we have done."

"I had better be." Ogrus grumbled. "It took you a shade under a decade to finish.

"This was no mere renovation, Emir Onyx," Hook replied, showing the slightest bit of humility, which for him was impressive, "this was the complete reconstruction of the shell mode of a living transformer, a transformer that defies everything we know of our own bio-mechanical science. And we had to do all of this reconstruction without damaging it's natural bio-shape mode or any of its internal workings."

"Fine, fine, it was a difficult task." Ogrus grumbled dismissively as he and the slender Trepan walked past the contracted green and purple foreigners toward the gigantic structure in the distance. Ogrus stopped to take it in, and was amazed. "It truly is Fortress Trypticon rebuilt."

"No sir, it's more." Hook smirked. "Like a true triptych, there's a third aspect to it, a more civilian-friendly city-center."

"You altered my specifications?" Ogrus grumbled.

"No sir, but the natural transformation hinges and mechanisms naturally lent themselves to a third mode." Scrapper added quickly. "Nothing on the mobile fortress mode or the core creature mode was compromised by this addition."

Ogrus stared at him for a moment before nodding. "Good, that had better be the case."

"Sir," Scrapper increased his pace so that he was walking next to Ogrus. He was a lower noble than Hook, but Ogrus liked him much, much better. "even clinically brain dead, this structure is a living being with a pulsing spark, a spark of inconceivable power, and the possibility of spasms, tremors or other activities is, well, likely to say the least. And a spasm from a creature like this, well sir, it'd be a seismic event. I'm not completely comfortable giving the all clear for occupation with this structure."

"This is not the first time you've expressed these concerns, Lord Masonis, and you are correct to express them." Ogrus replied, polite but annoyed at the same time. "I assure you that they have been noted and are being addressed."

"Being addressed by who," Hook snapped back, jerking his thumb at Trepan, "him?"

Ogrus stopped and turned to the team, looking over them with a look that wasn't malevolent, but one that certainly qualified as displeased. "The six of you have done an exceptional job, and you will be rewarded accordingly. But your services are no longer required. Please collect your belongings and leave the emirate of Nyon. Your payment will be sent to you at a later time." The emir whipped back around and continued on toward the giant structure. "Come, Trepan."

"Trepan?" Hook muttered in surprise.

"You boys did do a splendid job." Trepan remarked glibly as he continued on after Emir Onyx. "I'm certain Lord Shockwave is impressed with you, or would be were he capable of feeling such things." The six construction workers could only stop and stare in disbelief at the stranger as he and Ogrus continued on.

"I thought you said you did not know Shockwave of House Torrent." Ogrus stated as they reached the vast structure.

"I do not, though I have heard things said regarding his personality, or rather, lack of one." Trepan replied.

"Those things you've heard are correct," Ogrus answered back, "but mind your tone when speaking of a royal. You are the foremost authority in your field, and I value you greatly, but remember your place, commoner."

"Of course, Emir Macht, I apologize for the disrespect." Trepan apologized.

"No harm done, just don't let it happen again." Ogrus instructed, and the two continued on in silence until reaching the vast central command center, where they found Shockwave scrutinizing holographic designs of some of the inner workings of the structure. "Lord Shockwave, it is good to see you again."

"Emir Onyx," Shockwave replied without looking up, "what a pleasant surprise. What brings you to Fortress Trypticon?"

"I am here to thank you for your hard work, and to offer my eternal friendship." Ogrus replied, his answer causing Shockwave to finally look away from the schematics and directly at the visitors. "But your presence here is no longer required."

Shockwave stared at Ogrus for a few moments before finally responding. "There is so much work here left undone, I would rather stay to see it through. I have only just completed the full mapping of this beast's brain module."

"Wonderful, please provide your findings to Trepan here before collecting your things and making your way back to Harmonex." Ogrus stated.

Shockwave turned his lone optic toward Trepan and seemed to evaluate him thoroughly. "I am familiar with Trepan's work and reputation. He would likely prove to be an asset to our efforts here, but I hardly think he is capable of replacing me."

"Probably not, but he should be sufficient to complete the task." Emir Onyx replied. "And I have already claimed too much of your time an effort for something that has nothing to do with your House or emirate. You are a prominent member of a royal house, with your intellect you'll likely be Emir of Praxus in the vorns…nay, years to come. Your place is in Harmonex. And frankly, I'd really rather not field another call from Lightwave asking why you're spending so much time in Nyon."

"I doubt Lightwave misses my presence in Harmonex." Shockwave replied.

"I'm afraid my decision is final, Lord Shockwave." Ogrus dropped authoritatively. "Please bring Trepan up to speed on all of your work here, and travel home safely with my most sincere gratitude."

"As you wish, Emir Onyx." Shockwave replied, and then watched Ogrus march out before turning to Trepan. "It appears that you have Ogrus's trust."

Trepan chuckled as he walked closer to Shockwave. "For whatever reason he seems not to trust you, Shockwave."

"No, ever since that idiot Grimlock opened his mouth, he's suspected that I've, well," Shockwave shrugged, "he's suspected some form of the truth."

"Yes, he has." Trepan replied as he began looking over the data pads arranged neatly on the desk in front of Shockwave. "Good thing for him I'm so trustworthy." He started chuckling as he picked on of the data pads up and scrutinized it. "You know, this little project of Onyx's kept us both from the grand assembling. Apparently he's chosen a name for us."

"Yes, Decepticons." Shockwave mumbled as he punched in a command on the keyboard of the desk's terminal. "Not what I would have picked, but it evokes our Grand Deception origins and it is somewhat catchy for the rank and file." A moment later a large, holographic image of a long, oddly shaped brain hovered above the table.

"So that's what this creature's brain looks like?" Trepan turned away from the tablet in his hand and studied the hologram.

"No, that's what this creature's brain looked like when it was healthy." Shockwave answered. "I suppose the overall shape is about the same, it's managed to heal to that degree, but the finer aspects are all damaged beyond the point of recovery…at least on its own. I've outlined the methods needed for the reconstruction that will not only heal it, but rebuild it into a brain module akin to one of ours."

"Yes, that's why Ogrus brought me in now." Trepan responded as he placed the data pad on the table and pulled out a small holocube from a compartment on his side. He activated the holocube, to create a smaller image of a more standard cybertronian brain module. "He has a specific brain he wants beastie's remade into, and is planning on using overwriting techniques I pioneered to make turn this thing into a mountain sized version of House Onyx's most loyal vassal."

Shockwave took a step toward the smaller holographic image. "Who's brain is this?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Trepan chuckled, but at noting Shockwave turn his optic toward him and silently stare in what seemed to be annoyed anticipation, he finally answered. "Have you ever heard of Triptych?"

Shockwave remained silent for a moment, a clear indication that Trepan was correct, this was difficult for the large purple royal to believe. "Saurus Onyx's mentor? The namesake for his fortress...for this living recreation of that fortress? He must be at least thirteen million years old."

"Over seventeen million years old." Trepan countered with a grin. "Older than the Knights. Older than the sparkeaters. Old enough to remember the demon gods with five faces. He was born in the Primeval Age!"

"How can he still live?" Shockwave muttered. "I suppose we have the potential to be immortal, but in reality it has never come to pass."

"Not coming to pass for poor Triptych either." Trepan chuckled. "Been suffering through Cybercrosis for decades now, being kept alive in a field of gaseous energon, but the prolonging of his life is about at an end. I guess this their last grasp at immortality for him."

"I've read of your overwriting techniques; they would involve replication, not transference." Shockwave stated without any feeling as he continued to scrutinize the image of Triptych's brain module. "Triptych's will remain in his withering body, and when he dies, he will die like everyone else. This beast, this…Trypticon, will at best have his memories, thought patterns, and behavior, but it will be someone else, a mental twin of sorts, but an entirely separate individual. This is not immortality."

"You said 'at best' this creature will have Triptych's memories, thought patterns and behavior." Trepan said. "Do we really want what's best?" He asked, presenting a grin.

"Not what's best for Ogrus Onyx." Shockwave answered. "Keep what memories you can, but ultimately we do not what this creature's loyalties to be with House Onyx…or anything other than the Decepticons. You're the foremost mnemosurgeon on the planet, I'm sure you can achieve this."

Trepan grinned as he too leaned in close to the image of Triptych's brain. "I'm always up for a challenge."

Nightbeat

It had been over a million years since anyone but him had stepped foot in this facility. That seemed like a common exaggeration, but in this case, it was the honest truth. Nighbeat had been datamining this subterranean structure for days now, and was just now starting to break through the protective measures that the owner of this facility had put into place to guard his secrets. Jhiaxus was brilliant, but his position in Guardian Prime's inner circle and being given carte blanche to do whatever he wished with absolute support, at least discreetly, had made him less careful than he probably would have been otherwise, and this lack of care had given Nightbeat a way into his files.

Nightbeat had returned to Cybertron six years ago, having been unable to find the Manifest or its crew. Sentinel Prime had been disgusted, and had demoted him to the level of beat cop in Iacon, forbidding him access to any official resources concerning the Manifest, Guardian Prime, or even anything tied to Gallus Honorum prior to his becoming Prime. That had all but blocked off any of his attempts to continue his own investigation into the final resting place of the Manifest, but Sentinel Prime had said nothing about the possessions of other members of the crew. In most cases that fact made little difference. Any personal record Galvatron would have kept would have been in Darkmount, deep within Polyhex, and nobody was allowed access to the ruins without an invitation from Emir Macht, something Nightbeat certainly wasn't going to be getting. Galvatron's chief lieutenants, Cyclonus and Scourge, were little more than soldiers, so there was little chance of them knowing anything about the mission beyond what was on the official record, much less them leaving any clue of it; and even if they had, any residence or safe haven for them would also be deep within Polyhex as well. Other officers like Landmine, Grindcore, Mindset and so on would have had less chance of being aware of any ulterior motive of Guardian Prime's than even Scourge, so even those that lived in friendlier, more accessible cities and emirates would provide nothing.

But Jhiaxus would been aware of any non-official aspect of the voyage. Hell, whatever ulterior motives that there could be would be more than likely the brainchild of Jhiaxus. And unlike the inaccessible Nova Cronum of Guardian Prime or Polyhex of Galvatron, Jhiaxus hailed from Uraya. Born just outside Crystal City to a house of low nobility who has since died out, Jhiaxus had many possessions in the southern polar region, including the long hidded facility that had taken Nightbeat nearly six years to discover and gain access to. And House Trion was always welcoming to those that visited their emirate. Granted, they couldn't know what he was doing or what he'd be searching for, but it really didn't matter. Despite the majority of their border being surrounded by the contentious Polyhex, they were very open about the personal freedoms of their residents, even visitors, and Nightbeat had little difficulty going wherever he wanted without being noticed.

Sifting through official records of aliases of Jhiaxus's he had discovered had made him aware of the subterranean property he was in now, and it only took a couple days of mining to gain access to the physical facility. Another six days of exhaustive hacking in the vast computer network, he was finally in Jhiaxus's cache of secured files. They were still coded, but breaking codes was protoform-play to him. A bit of translation revealed a term he had come into contact with years before while studying the history of the senate while a student at the Iaconian Police Academy. 'Ferrotaxis', a device that in theory could cyberform an organic world. A large percentage of the senate considered it to be a fantastic idea, a great way to make mudballs more habitable to Cybertronians. But the loss of life would be exceptional, so one point four five million years ago, Guardian Prime ordered the project abandoned. Oddly though, this file had been updated last less than one point two million years ago. Why?

It took over an hour to decode the most recent file in the Ferrotaxis folder, and when he did it was just a note. 'Final entry, Helios-3 testing facility completed. Final transfer of data already commencing. Back-up archive status initiated.' "Helios-3?" Nightbeat questioned out loud. He wasn't familiar with any location named Helios. Likely a designation assigned by and strictly for Jhiaxus. Nightbeat leaned back in the large chair in the dimly lit facility and considered the name. Why would Jhiaxus move testing of the Ferrotaxis? Was the facility compromised in some way? Was it insufficient for whatever Jhiaxus had planned? The Ferrotaxis had been ordered scrubbed, was Guardian Prime on the cusp of finding this place? If so, why wasn't the data, including evidence of work after the official scrub date, purged? Jhiaxus wasn't afraid of this being discovered, at least, not discovered by an entity or organization with resources to penetrate his good, but not impregnable security. From what he'd learned of Guardian Prime in the years Sentinel Prime had ordered him to track him, it was beyond plausible Guardian Prime would have been OK with Jhiaxus continuing his work, provided he was discreet about it.

Was that the reason for the move, discretion? Or had the development of the project progressed to the point where it required more room? Or was it safety concerns? Actually, that was likely given what the Ferrotaxis was intended to do. Cyberform worlds…not the sort of project you'd like to test in a populated area, or anywhere on Cybertron. Off world? Possible, hell, plausible, hell, likely. Once the Ferrotaxis advances to a certain point, one would have to take it off world, and Jhiaxus would certainly have the means to do so. But Nightbeat had observed all of the colony worlds he heard whisper of, to varying degrees, and none appeared to possess any degree of cyberforming that wasn't done by long established and labor intensive methods that he was already aware of. If this Helios-3 facility was on any of the colony worlds he had observed, then it would seem that Jhiaxus never actually activated the Ferrotaxis.

Helios-3. Helios-3. Perhaps a clue could be found in the nomenclature. Helios sounds like a name derived from old Cybertronian, some sort of carryover from the Primal Vernacular. Many of the high house family names are derived from the Primal Vernacular, as are scientific and medical terms…as are astronomical terms! The planet Beest was listed as Gamma Pavonis-2 on the star charts, Gamma Pavonis the name of the star, two representing the second planet closest to it in its system. Was Helios a star?

Nightbeat spent the next hour pouring through and translating Jhiaxus's coded files, scrutinizing anything that could possibly be related to Helios in any way…and then he found it. A log entry from a million and a half years ago. 'Perfect candidate, outer rim of our galaxy, G-type main sequence yellow dwarf, age approximately four point six billion years, orbited by eight planets, at least three dwarf planets and many other smaller bodies. I've dubbed it Helios. Of interest is the third planet from this star, the system's densest planet, and one swarming with life; all organic. No hyperdense energy cluster is present. Solid iron inner core, liquid outer core, and convecting mantle that drives plate tectonics. Vast quantities of liquid and non-liquid water. Perfect temperature range, near-perfect size, devoid of mechanoid lifeforms, no higher functioning indigenous lifeforms or colonizing species of any kind. Were I not a devout atheist I would speculate that The Hand created this world for the sole purpose of becoming our first Neo-Cybertron.'

Thirty more minutes of fishing gave Nightbeat the astronomical coordinates.

Roller Pax

This was so stupid. Why were they putting him through this; the entire House through this? Nominate a fifteen year old the very day he turns fifteen, for the office of Emir. Smart. Even those who want Olnius out aren't going to vote for someone one day out of childhood. They would collect the votes, he would lose, and the entire pointless fiasco would only cheapen all future attempts to replace Olnius with a stronger leader. Roller grumbled inaudibly to himself as he stood up from his chair and paced across his dormancy chamber and slumped onto his slab. So stupid and counterproductive…and yet he had accepted the nomination. Yeah, his acceptance was mainly to show Loronus and Stronghold that he wasn't a hypocrite, but that wasn't the only reason. He genuinely felt he could lead The Torus Heights…that he needed to lead The Torus Heights. It didn't seem so stupid and counterproductive when looking into Torenia's optics for assurance…and receiving it.

A knock at his door tore him from his thoughts. "Yes?"

"It's time kid." Stronhold's voice came through. Roller sprung up and walked over to the door, opening it and almost glaring at Stronghold. The large robot gave a look of friendly surprise. "What?"

"I'm going to get my ass handed to me, aren't I?" Roller grumbled.

"You're getting at least a few votes, kid." Stronghold replied, giving a reassuring smile as he cupped his shoulder and led him down the hallway. "You're young, but much of the house, most of the house really, has been admiring what you've been doing all these years. I don't know if it's enough to get them to vote for you, but it's something."

"This would have had a great deal more legitimacy if I'd have been a few years older." Roller stated as they passed other dormancy chambers on their way to the Sanctum.

"We both know that House Pax doesn't have a few more years." Stronghold replied. "We need to ratchet up the preparations now if we're to have any chance of living through what's going to happen, and for that to happen we need an emir willing to do that ratcheting."

"You're right, but I'm only one day into the age of self-determination." Roller replied. "If only Orion were here. He'd make a great emir."

"Hmmm, maybe. Can't say for sure." Stronghold replied as they reached the double-doors of the Sanctum. "I had a high opinion of the kid, but I haven't seen him handle the situations I've seen you handle. You may have to accept the likelihood that you've surpassed him, assuming he's still alive."

"He's still alive," Roller muttered quietly pushing open the doors, "and either way, I still wish he were here." Sixty one members of House Pax turned to look at the two newcomers, all members of the house were present save Plianus Pax, who was serving out his vorn of duty to the Wardens up in Taenarus. One absence was nowhere near enough to call off this vote. "Looks like we're the last to arrive."

"Always like making an entrance, don't you?" The slender Parcher Pax chuckled out from the center of the room. Seven benches, each one hundred thirty five feet long, had been brought to the large room, the vastly more attractive and comfortable furniture that was normally in place moved out to fit the benches, which were there specifically for a more orderly and efficient election.

"Let's get this over with." Roller replied as he walked toward the center of the room, noting the intense looks everyone was giving him, particularly Olnius Pax. The Emir wasn't displaying an unfriendly look, just one of strong interest. Probably pity, Roller thought, it would be appropriate given the humiliating landslide that the youth was in store for. He turned down one of the aisles of benches and took his seat near the center, a small fire in the fireplace providing a bit of ambiance, and nothing else.

Emir Pax smiled and nodded at Roller's request and turned to Nelonia Pax, a short, slender House Pax Vice Emir who was standing near the doorway. "Lady Nelonia, would you please bring these proceedings to order?"

"Of course, Emir Pax." Nelonia replied with a smile. "If you would all please take your seats." It took a few minutes for the dozens of Pax's to finish shuffling into the rows of benches and sit. "Thank you all. Sixty-three of the sixty-four members of House Pax are present, some of us traveling from the various corners of Cybertron to be here; only Portus Pax is unable to attend, his duty to the Wardens of the Gates preventing him from taking part in the choosing. But even without him, we have more than enough to hold the election today…in fact, Portus's absence could possibly be of benefit to the process, as with an odd number we can avoid the possibility of a tie."

"I don't think it would come to that, even if Portus were here." Olnius remarked, attempting to add a bit of humor to make his comment not seem so arrogant, but not quite hitting the mark.

"Perhaps." Nelonia replied. "Do either of the candidates have any final comments prior to the casting of the ballots?"

Olnius stood up. "You all know me, you all know my record. I don't claim to be the greatest emir in House Pax history, I certainly don't claim to be nearly as good as Arlon Pax, and should a candidate superior to me have presented themselves, I'd have gladly stepped aside. I like Roller Pax, he has many admirable qualities, but he is NOT a superior candidate. He is young, he is inexperienced, and his decisions are too influenced by his passions for him to be a good emir at this time. In a vorn or two that will all have changed and he may become the Pax we all hope, and Arlon believed, he will be, but he is not there yet. He is nowhere near that. His actions are rash, and they will lead us to war, one we cannot win. He will serve as best he can based on what he thinks is best, but what he thinks is best is definitely not. Things with Nova Cronum and the Prime are bad, in part because of his actions over these last fourteen years, but we are NOT on the cusp of an invasion. His claims are exaggerations. His actions will be catastrophic to our House. I ask you all to vote wisely, as I know you will. Thank you all." Olnius sat back down and nodded to several members of the House.

"Lord Roller?" Nelonia looked to the youth.

Roller met her gaze and nodded before standing up. "This will be brief, I really did not prepare anything to say. It all boils down to the fact that Olnius would make a far better peacetime emir than I would, and I would make a far better emir in times of conflict. So I ask you all to look to the actions of Sentinel Prime. Look to the weakness of the Senate and their inability to stand up to him or criticize him, even after murdering Arlon Pax. Look to our borders, where just across our lands are militarized forces; forces made up of more than just House Honorum security, armed for far more than just keeping me from crossing their territory with contraband. We have accurate estimates of the forces House Honorum has at its disposal, and we can count well enough to know that the claims that the mobilized armies almost completely surrounding our entire emirate are nearly tenfold more than the Honorum's have. Look to Sentinel Prime's increasing irrationality and aggressive posturing, his gradual change in advisors, his sacking of Prowl, censuring of Senator Xaaron, and the replacing of other reasonable and qualified advisors and leaders with sycophants fueling his ego and pushing him to serve their own selfish needs. Rabattus Decimus is rumored to have influenced him to kill Arlon, and he is his most trusted friend and confidant. If you truly believe that this Prime poses no threat to The Torus Heights and House Pax, then by all means cast your vote for Olnius; nothing would please me more than for me to be wrong. But I know that I'm not, and if you are like me, and see Sentinel Prime looking for any opportunity to act against us, then you know that we cannot have Olnius Pax leading our House. I promise you, I will not do anything to instigate a war, but we will not be flatfooted and unprepared for it should it come if I am emir." Roller sat down and directed his optics downward.

The Santum was silent for over a minute before Nelonia addressed them all again. "Thank you both. Now, candidates Olnius and Roller will be omitted from the voting, but the rest of us are to stand, file forward and cast their vote at the terminal behind me. Plianus, as you are seated on the far left of the first row, we will start with you." The brown and gold robot in the first row nodded and stood, walking forward with the other members seated in the first row rising and following him forward.

The process lasted close to an hour, as nearly half of the members needed to think a the terminal for a few minutes before casting their vote, but in time all were finished save Nelonia, who flipped a switch to reveal the vote count before casting hers. The display revealed a count of thirty votes for each candidate, making Nelonia Pax's vote the tie-breaker. She turned and looked over the other members, all staring back at her. By revealing the count prior to her casting, she not only removed the secrecy from her vote, but she also took on the burden of being the decider of who the next emir would be. Olnius smiled confidently, Nelonia was a dear friend he had known for his entire life, whereas her interactions with Roller had been few, and he had heard her scold the youth on more than a few occasions. She finally turned back to the terminal and cast her vote.

The display flickered and changed. 'Olinus Pax – 30 Roller Pax – 31'

There was a momentary hush before a burst of commotion. Cheers for Roller, hands slapping his shoulder and back in congratulations, and other gasps. Above it all, the voice of Olnius called out. "Lady Nelonia!"

The vice emir turned and looked at Olnius sorrowfully. "I'm sorry my friend, but Roller was right. Sentinel Prime cannot be trusted, and we cannot continue on without preparing for the worst. I have spoken to many of those who have been living abroad to get their perspective on the Prime, and they have all confirmed what I already know; he is unhinged, getting worse, and has his optics set on our house and our emirate. And ultimately, something Stronghold has been saying to us since yesterday has carried a great deal of weight. He simply asked who we think Arlon would vote for." Nelonia turned to the newly elected emir, who was being embraced by Torenia Pax at that moment. "Arlon would vote for Roller, and so did I."

The stunned Roller finally seemed to break out of the shock and disbelief brought on by what had just happened and managed to walk toward the front of the Sanctum to address the other members of his house. "Brothers and sisters, I would like to thank you for your support, and assure you once again that I do not seek war, but I know it will be seeking us sooner or later, and that if we are to survive, we need to prepare. There is much we need to do, but for now, I need to sit down and try to absorb all this. I didn't bother formulating a pre-vote selling of myself, it definitely didn't occur to me that I'd be needing a victory speech. I'm stunned and humbled. Thank you all…I'll have something prepared for our course of action in a few hours…but for now, I need to be alone. Thank you."

Omega Supreme

He stood vigil, as he had for millions of years, embracing the dimly lit peacefulness of the chamber. It would have driven any other being mad, but Omega Supreme was a Guardian, designed and brainwashed to serve as transport and protection for ancient masters. And while he aided in the casting out of those masters, standing vigil was still etched into his identity, still his function. And truthfully, he minded it not. He was uncomfortable around others, solitude was a comfort, silence always a welcome companion.

And then the silence ended. The murmurs and slight sounds on the other side of the vault returned, as they had done several times in recent years, but this time was louder. Then a knock. Omega Supreme turned to face the vault door. Another knock, then a third and then more. Then banging, deliberate, powerful banging. Granted, even the most powerful of the banging barely created a tap on Omega Supreme's side of the vastly thick door, but it was more commotion than he had heard from the other side since shortly after sealing them in there millions of years ago.

The banging didn't cease, it continued, it was joined by more banging, until it sounded as though an entire army was battering away futilely on the other side. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of the sparkeaters not only survived their millions of years of captivity, but where now aggressively trying to batter their way out. The gate would hold, Omega Supreme knew, but what worried him was that the sparkeaters knew this as well. Why were they charging the gate now? It was pointless, they would not gain their freedom in such a manner, and yet they persisted. While confident that they were in no danger, Omega Supreme opened a channel to the Lord Commander to make him aware of the situation. "Lord Commander Kup, please come in." There was a very long pause, one lasting over three minutes. The guardian attempted another hail. "Lord Commander, this is Omega Supreme, please respond."

"Sorry Omega Supreme, we have our hands full up here!" Kup's voice came through, the sounds of weapon's fire and chaos in the background.

"What is your situation?" A suddenly alarmed Omega Supreme asked.

"We're under siege by some sort of swarm!" Kup belted out. "They look to be insect designed shell modes of transformers, but there's thousands of them, and as far as I can tell, they have no robotic alternate mode! Hundreds have already breached the mountain!"

"I wish to help, but I cannot leave my post!" Omega Supreme replied.

"Affirmative, you stay put!" Kup bellowed as the sound of his rifle firing cut through his words. "If they get through us, we'll need you to beat them back!"

"Do they look to have the means of breaking through the final gate?" Omega Supreme asked, noting that the insect swarm sounds kept getting louder on the other end.

"Not that I can tell!" Kup barely got out before the connection was cut. It was then, with the communications signal dead, that Omega Supreme recognized that the buzzing sound of whatever this swarm was could be heard through the outer gates leading upward toward the surface. The final gate would hold, solus designed it to repel the hordes for all eternity, but the hordes below were unarmed beyond their natural weaponry. The hordes above, the guardian couldn't say.

For endless minutes the commotion continued to grow louder. Omega Supreme could hear the outer gates being breached; sometimes they were blown apart, and sometimes they seemed to be breached without much demolition, as though the gates were raised or entrance were cut or worn though. Finally the last gate before Omega Supreme's chamber was being beset. Clangs of metal hitting the metal of the gate echoed through the chamber. The guardian raised both his cannon arm and his claw and prepared for combat.

Suddenly the gate split open, as though opened through legitimate means, and a flood of black and purple flying, jumping and crawling giant metal insects blasted into the chamber. Omega Supreme blasted away through the swarm, causing vast damage, but doing nothing to put a real dent in their numbers. He battered away, he ignited the thruster built into his claw hand, incinerating dozens, but on more came, surrounding him, bypassing him, filling the chamber.

"Omega Supreme!" A tiny voice called out through the deafening hum of the invading creatures.

Omega Supreme looked down, and through a few tiny gaps of the swarm he caught sight of Mindwipe, firing into the swarm but backing up toward the guardian. He seemed scared, but fought on bravely, continuing to be pushed back. He had a large device strapped to his back, but Omega could not pay the attention needed to try and figure out what it was. "Warden Mindwipe, where are your brothers?"

"Most of the Wardens have fallen!" He called out, but disappeared as dozens of insects flew between the two.

The guardian couldn't worry about one Warden, and continued trying to incinerate the insects en-mass. He was killing dozens, hundreds with his flame and cannon, but more just kept flooding into the chamber. He whipped his arms around, swatting and sending his flames throughout the chamber, and as he spun he caught sight of Mindwipe, all the way back at the vault door, mounting the device that had been on his back. "Mindwipe, what are..." A blast caught Omega Supreme in the back, forcing him to stumble forward a bit. He turned back upward toward the breached outer door to see, through the swarm, a moderately large robot with various crustacean limbs jutting from his frame, flanked by a half dozen other robots on either side of him. "Who are you? How dare you try to unleash this ancient evil on the world?"

The robots all opened fire on the guardian, most of the shots hitting the multitude of insects hovering between them, and the few shots getting through doing nothing to the guardian. Omega Supreme stalked forward toward the armed intruders, blasting at them as he did. He killed two with his initial blast, another two with his second. The rest of the group scattered, looking for shelter in the deep, warm, dark cavern.

"It's in!" Omega Supreme turned to see Mindwipe sprinting toward and then past him. "Fall back!" The darkly colored and winged Warden yelled, and the intruders did as he commanded.

"TRAITOR!" Omega Supreme roared before turning to see what he had done to the wall. He waved away dozens of insects to get a look at the vault door, and noticed a small hole where Mindwipe had mounted his device. He strode closer, intent on undoing whatever the traitorous bastard had done, but the hole was so low and so narrow, he wasn't sure what he could do with his large claw and cannon. He finally reached the door and knelt, trying to stoop low enough to peer in. As he got near the hole he could hear the sounds of drilling from within, but just as he got to where he could look in, the sounds ceased. He looked closely in the dark and noted that the drill had gone roughly fifteen feet…about to the midpoint of the door. He straightened up to reposition himself, specifically to position his cannon at the mouth of the hole so that he could obliterate that device, whatever it may be. A beep suddenly emerged through the cut hole.

It was black. Everything was black. He hadn't known how long he had been lying in the blackness. He was suddenly aware of the intense pain coursing through his entire frame. Burning, scorching pain throughout most of his exterior. Mangled twisting pain throughout everything else. It was agony. He moved slightly, probably his right arm or shoulder, though he really couldn't tell. He was beyond disoriented, though he was quickly piecing things together. There was a cave-in…no, it must have been an explosion. That drill must have been an explosive device, and the blast must have caused a cave in. He hadn't even heard the blast, it must have knocked him off line the moment it went off. The gate! Omega Supreme shifted, causing tons of metal and rock to pour off of him. He needed to verify that the gate was still intact. He pushed through more tons of metal and rock, the dust so thick in the air that he wouldn't have been able to see much even if there was an adequate light source, which there wasn't. But through the darkness he started to see tiny slits of light moving quickly past. A sound not far from him drew his attention, and through the dust and darkness he was able to see…no. No. NO!

One of the monsters was free. A sparkeater, a hideous beast, somewhat humanoid in appearance, but his black and red frame opening into a vile trap to suck the energy out of a captured insect. The dying insect had its power flowing out of it, but Omega Supreme did not notice a spark emerge from it. The sparkeater then seemed to sense something, something that was alarming to it, and looked up into Omega Supreme's optics. It was a sight common to the guardian fifteen million years before; his ignis numen had always driven the demons wild with hunger-lust. The beast started to climb over the debris toward the pinned guardian, but a thunderous voice stopped it. "NO!" Omega Supreme filled with dread at the sound, a voice he had hoped never to hear again. "Find another! The guardian is mine!"

Omega Supreme twisted his head just enough so that he could see burning red optics cutting through the darkness, the shadow of long horns on either side and in the front of the monstrous head that stood forty feet off the ground. "Violen Jiger." Omega Supreme growled weakly.

"I will feast on this world, guardian!" The voice of death snarled. "And not you or a thousand Knights will stop me this time."