19. Trypticon

It was amazing how my perspective had changed. Although I'd known the command team for vorns, I no longer looked on them merely as comrades. Now I had to consider them from a different angle, judging their strengths and weaknesses, their individual styles, their psychology and their relationships with each other.

I didn't have the luxury of uncertainty. I could not forget that they were all Decepticons – they preyed on weakness.

"It makes no sense to continue our northward assault when the regions closest to us aren't secured," I told them. "There are still Autobots stationed in Trypticon and Vos. Why spread out our forces so much that one attack on Kaon could cripple us?"

"The Autobot forces in both Trypticon and Vos are strong," Trannis pointed out.

"All the more reason for us to deal with them before spreading our army out any further," I answered. So far, so good. "I'd suggest Trypticon first. It's a defensible position, for us, and the fortress there…"

"…has never been breached," Starscream interrupted. "And the Autobots are inside. They have the supplies they need to outlast a siege for decavorns if they must."

"I agree," Stryka added. "Ve built zat fortress to be impenetrable, and now ze Autobots are using it against us."

I processed that. "If the fortress were destroyed, would it be worth it? I'd sooner have it gone than in Autobot possession."

"It's impossible," Starscream cut in again. "Even if we hit it with everything we had, it wouldn't fall. An army of Omega Sentinels might stand a chance of denting the walls."

"I don't suppose we've got any of those lying around, do we?"

To my surprise, everyone looked at Shockwave.

"Well," he said. "There are some remaining guardians in my care, but unfortunately we do not have energon to spare reactivating and fueling them, even for a few orns. The largest stock of energon we have – had – is beneath Trypticon."

"If I may?" It was Thunderwing. I couldn't afford to let Seeker tradition affect how I dealt with the trineless scientist.

"Speak."

"I have spent centivorns developing special exoskeletal armor that may help." His optics gleamed in excitement. "It is designed to maximize both defensive and offensive power. It acts as a symbiote, but it is merely an extension of the wearer's will, hardly different than the fabled Apex armor of Sentinel Prime. This armor renders the wearer virtually unstoppable. If the carapace were bonded to, say, you yourself, Lord Nova…"

"Commander," I said.

"It's untested," Starscream hissed at the same time, just as Trannis said, "Unnatural."

"You're delusional, Thunderwing," Starscream continued. "Keep your little toy. We'll find another way."

"There is no other way," Thunderwing muttered.

"That's enough," I told them. Still… if Thunderwing weren't exaggerating, this could be the way inside. Virtually unstoppable. The thought of such power made my Spark flare. That anyone… that I could wield it… was tempting. "I'll consider it, Thunderwing, since it seems to be the only option we have. Show me this armor of yours. The rest of you, keep thinking. I'll see you all back here in two megacycles."

Starscream intercepted me before I'd taken two steps. The others were leaving or talking amongst themselves; Thunderwing waited by the door. "Nova," my creator hissed. "Thunderwing's experiments… they're dangerous."

"He's a scientist. I thought you'd approve."

"I'm a scientist. He's a nutcase."

"I didn't hear you come up with any suggestions," I said, pulling away and meeting up with Thunderwing at the exit.

Thunderwing's laboratory was in the lower levels. "I keep it dim," he explained. "The light could be harmful to some of the materials I work with. The basic concept is really quite simple: the carapace is grafted directly onto the wearer. The prototype is designed for Seekers, of course, but I can begin construction on shells suitable for other models as well. The armor is practically impenetrable. In addition to the obvious defensive benefits, the shell bolsters the wearer's self-repair systems and weapons systems."

"How much energy does this require?" I asked, following him deeper into the lab. Things hissed and bubbled in the dark.

"Very little. In fact, the shell reduces the wearer's dependency on energon. With further enhancements, I hope to erase the need for energon completely. Here we are."

He did something before a heavy door, connecting remotely, as far as I could tell. "Pardon all the security, Lo… Commander. I take great pride in my work."

The door opened into what looked like the central area of the lab. Though there were other curiosities, the room was dominated by a fluid-filled cylindrical tank containing something dark and mech-shaped. I approached cautiously, trying to take a reading.

"You'll find it far superior to older outer shells such as the Apex-class armor. The exoskeleton is spliced directly into the neuro-cortex in order to maximize the wearer's control."

"So it isn't just a question of putting it on and taking it off?"

"Not at all. That would be too easy for an enemy to dislodge. As I said, the shell is grafted directly onto the wearer's armor."

Upon closer inspection, the armor seemed modeled off of insectoid organics. Half of it was solid plating; the rest formed an indistinct cloud. I reached out to lay my fingertips on the glass. Black ropy shapes surged out of the smudgy cloud and clanked against the inside of the tank. I jerked my hand away.

"What is that?" I asked. "What is it made of?"

"Tissues collected from various subjects. The raw materials—"

"Wait, what?! You mean you made this from… from corpses?"

Thunderwing blinked. "Not at all. The tissue must be living for the polydermal grafting process to work effectively."

I backed away. "And you want me to let that thing bind to me? Permanently?!"

"Lord Nova, think of the power that this form will grant you! This could end the war!"

"By making myself a weapon of mass destruction? I'm fine as I am." I cast another horrified glance up at the armor shell. "This… this is… no. We'll find another way."

I retreated as quickly as dignity would allow, leaving the scientist alone with his creation. Leaving Thunderwing's lab, I came up against a different mech.

"Commander Nova," he said. He was a spindly cycle-form with green and black plating. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure. Designation Oil Slick. I heard from a reputable source that you're having trouble breaking into Trypticon. I believe I may have something that can help."

"This," Oil Slick said, holding up a piece of metal, "is battle-grade cybertrate, also called siege-grade because this is what all our siege armature was made of during the War. This is what the really sensible rich mechs are made of. Optimus Prime's made of this. Your outer armor is made of a structurally altered version: keeps the strength, but it's only about 25% as heavy. It's the strongest substance ever discovered, and Trypticon is made of layers of it."

He dropped the cybertrate into a containment tank and sealed it save for a hole at the top. "And this," he continued, holding up a small vial of brown liquid, "is our secret weapon."

He lifted the vial and tipped it slowly, optics focused and hand steady. He allowed two drops to fall through the hole before sealing the containment field and the vial. The liquid landed on the cybertrate sample. Evil-looking smoke gushed up, trapped in the tank, and brown splotches spread quickly over the metal's surface. Holes grew in the center of the discoloration, and within kliks, the metal had completely dissolved.

"What is that stuff?"

"The Autobots call it Cosmic Rust," Oil Slick answered proudly. "One of my greatest inventions. We used it in such situations as these during the War. Imagine what this does to Autobot armor."

"I'd rather not."

"It seems a shame to pass up such a powerful weapon."

"I will pass up as many powerful weapons as I must in order to get my point across," I hissed. So this was what it meant to lead the Decepticons: choosing between unpleasant alternatives. "I am not interested in the pointless destruction of Autobots. If your 'Cosmic Rust' can get us into Trypticon, then we'll use it. But I will not permit its use primarily on living targets. Is that understood?"

"Understood, sir."

The fortress at Trypticon really was quite impressive, with its forbidding spiked architecture. The streets surrounding it were empty; not an Autobot could be seen.

/Strange,/ Starscream remarked as his trine dipped in low above Hurricane and me. /They're already holed up in the fortress./

/They couldn't have known that we were coming,/ I answered. /They should have expected an attack on one of the northern city-states./

/Unless they were warned in advance,/ Starscream said grimly.

/We'll deal with that later./ I checked to see that Lugnut and Octane, a tanker jet, were still following us. /Prepare to drop your canisters./

/Ready and eager,/ Octane replied cheekily. /Let's oxidize this baby./

I'd have sighed if my vents weren't otherwise occupied. Though Octane was necessary to the plan, he had a talent at grinding my gears. /Start your run. We'll cover you./

Trypticon was heavily armed. We fired at wherever the shots came from to keep the gunners' heads down.

/The crosswind is coming from dead east,/ Starscream warned over the general comm. /The smoke will blow right over the fortress, but stay alert./

I didn't want any of my own soldiers to be caught in the chemical attack. Lugnut and Octane jettisoned Oil Slick's specially-designed canisters and we followed as they veered away. The canisters would explode on impact, sending Cosmic Rust everywhere… but mostly on the wall of the fortress directly before the main causeway. Two kliks later, the canisters struck. Brown rust spread rapidly as the metal walls oxidized.

/Will that be enough?/ Hurricane asked.

/Give it a salvo, just to be sure,/ I answered. /But stay away from that smoke!/

We went in for a run, firing on the growing brown spots. The unhealthy, brittle metal disintegrated, leaving a wide-open entrance.

/Oil Slick always knows what he's doing,/ Skywarp crowed. /Look at them, all running around and trying to figure out what to do!/

I sent the order over our general frequency. /The door is open. Decepticons, attack!/

They complied in a roar of engines. The aerial forces arrived first; I fell back and allowed Starscream to take the lead. He was still the Air Commander and knew more about aerial strategy than I did. What had been the Autobots' safe haven became their undoing, for now they were trapped inside the fortress. I had given strict orders before that any who wished to surrender would be allowed to, and I'd emphasized the goal of taking prisoners rather than wreaking destruction.

Although the first few levels were high enough to fly in (this fortress had been designed partly for flight-capable Decepticons), the halls quickly grew shorter, pushing more and more of us to the ground. The Autobots fought with strength born of desperation, but many saw quickly that the situation was hopeless and surrendered before they had sustained much damage.

A furious bellow and a powerful cannon blast drew my attention to one of the upper levels. I recognized the Autobot fighter as Ironhide. He was fierce and formidable, taking on groups of Decepticons as they came and leaving them battered.

I hadn't quite decided how I would handle this when Ironhide spotted me. With a roar, he lunged for me. Immediately, several of the nearby Decepticons moved to intercept him, but Ironhide brushed them off like Insecticons. A backwards leap saved me from a heavy fist to the faceplates.

"Ironhide, wait, it's me!" I tried.

"Yeah, I know," he growled in response, the cannons on his arms charging with a whine. "Ran off to join the Decepticons, after all Prime's slag about everyone deserving a chance at freedom, after everything he did for you!"

I dodged, and not a moment too soon. His cannonfire tore up the floor where I'd just been standing. "Stop," I implored him. "It's not like that."

"Then what's it like?" he bellowed back. "Enough talk! Shoot, frag you!"

I remembered riding on Ironhide's shoulders as a sparkling. I landed, keeping my arms at my sides. "I'm not going to fight you, Ironhide."

He scowled, cannons still cycling and whining. "I ought to slag you right here."

"You won't," I answered. "It's not like you."

"Hmph. Because I have honor, I won't terminate an unresisting enemy." He approached, cannons still at the ready, and stopped only when they were mere ticks from my cockpit and chestplates. "The Senate's ordered you taken, functional or not. I think Optimus would prefer functional."

"I said I wouldn't fight you," I said, tensing up. There were some things that were worse than termination; slavery was one of them. "I didn't say I'd let you take me."

Energy flashed past my optics, momentarily overloading the sensors. Once my optics reset, I saw Ironhide lying on the ground an astrometer away. Starscream landed beside me, sneering at the prone Autobot.

"You're welcome," he said. "You can't get away with not killing Autobots. It won't work." I ignored him in favor of going to Ironhide. "It was only a null-ray. Don't get your wires twisted."

I checked on the comm frequencies. Some Autobots had escaped, but most had been trapped inside. The Decepticons were tracking down the last few Autobots roaming at large.

I explored upwards, running my hands over the elaborately carved glyphs all over the walls. Some I couldn't read at all. Others described ancient battles and powerful Decepticon warriors, most terminated long ago. In an upper hall, I found a somewhat fanciful description of Starscream (it downplayed his abrasive personality), along with accounts of battles in which he'd participated. There was still space at the bottom, room for more. Megatron came further along, taking up an entire wall. I wondered if my designation would ever be carved into the walls of Trypticon, then laughed out loud, the sound echoing off the high ceilings.

Just beyond Megatron's wall was a set of massive doors, leading into what I could only guess had been his quarters. I wondered if every Decepticon city-state had living arrangements for Megatron and his generals.

Nobody had come with me, so when I heard a faint shift of metal on metal, I went on guard immediately. There was an Autobot here, no doubt, waiting until he could sneak away. My sensors picked up nothing, but I stayed alert.

"I know you're here," I said loudly.

"'Course I'm here. I'm right on top of you, mech!"

I whirled, but saw no one. That voice, however… I knew that voice. "Jazz? Show yourself!"

"Chill, little guy. If I'd wanted to off you I'da done it right when you walked in."

"Where are you?"

"They never remember to look up. Come on, kid, you're a Seeker. You should know this already!"

I looked up. The black-and-white Autobot was splayed out on the ceiling.

"Magnetic fields," he said. "Get me into some unusual places."

"Planning on coming down?"

"Dunno. You gonna call your troops on me, Commander?"

"That depends on what you're doing here."

"How 'bout this: you promise not to call in your mechs and I'll come down there and tell you something interesting."

"I won't call them."

Jazz dropped from the ceiling and landed in a crouch before straightening up. "Not bad for a groundpounder, right?"

"Not bad," I conceded. "What's this interesting something you have to tell me?"

"There's been some muttering in your army. Seems you managed to get someone mad at you already."

"Muttering…? Wait, how would you know?"

Jazz grinned. "Really? We're not deaf. Intel head's good at his job."

"Why tell me this? Wouldn't it be better for the Autobots if there were internal issues among the Decepticons?"

"You kidding? Megatron and Starscream were the definition of 'internal issues' and that didn't do us any good. Besides, I heard about you. Saw how you handled that battle. With that Cosmic Rust you coulda wiped us out without firing a shot. Instead you break down a wall. And when we're all running around like chickens with our heads cut off, and you 'cons coulda made scrap outta our whole legion, you round up prisoners. I see what you're doing, and I like it. So you could say I've got a personal interest in keeping you in power. And for that, I'm telling you to watch your back, 'cause someone might try an' make trouble for you sometime soon."

"I'll… I'll pay attention," I said. "Thank you. But how do you know all of this?"

"Highbrow's got optics everywhere," Jazz said. "So, how's about you let me go now?"

"You can't just walk out of here," I protested. "How am I supposed to know you'll actually leave?"

"Kid, you've known me since you came up to my knee. I owe Prime a lot. I won't stick around –no pun intended – and make trouble."

I hesitated. "Fine, then," I said. "Get out of here. And… thank you again."

"I'll say hi to Prime for you. I would say you'll see me around, but hey, you probably won't."

"Primus help you if I do," I answered.

"Woah, tough guy. Nice to see Prime didn't spoil you permanently. I'm outta here."

He vanished out the door. I shook my head. Starscream was right; I had to stop doing this. These were my friends, mechs I'd known all my life. But Ironhide was a powerful warrior who had terminated plenty of Decepticons in his time, while Jazz was head of Special Ops and could be up to anything, undermining our plans, spying, sabotaging. It was a serious problem.

Repair work started on the walls right away. Our energon shortage was also alleviated, although this was only temporary until our factories and refineries were running again. The Autobots had been holding Decepticon prisoners here, not a legion's worth but more than a handful. We took any reinforcements we could get with our forces stretched across several city-states.

After overseeing whatever needed my approval, I retired to Megatron's – my – quarters, checked the ceiling, then explored further. My most notable discovery was the controls for the windows: a touch to the right button made an entire section of the fortress's armor shift and move, sliding away to reveal a southward view. Digging out a cube from my subspace, I settled down in the uncomfortably large throne-like chair to rest for a moment.

A breem later, the door hissed open.

"Nova?"

"Over here," I answered, drawing Ramrod over.

"Primus, this thing is big. Megatron must have had a flair for the dramatic, don't you think?"

"The Autobots knew we were coming. I think they've got a spy among us."

"You'd think we'd know," he said. "This army goes way back. Everyone knows each other. It's not like someone new shows up and we don't know anything about him. We all have reasons to hate the Autobots. Except you, but I don't think you're the spy."

"There must be someone who stands out." I would ask Soundwave when I returned to Kaon; he could investigate subtly. "Am I really the only one who doesn't hate Autobots?"

"You weren't a slave," he said darkly. "You'd hate them too if you went through that."

"What did your master do to you?" I asked. Instantly, I regretted it… what sort of a question was that? It was too personal, probably brought up too many memories.

"Everything," Ramrod growled. "And he enjoyed every klik. I don't really want to talk about it. I hate him."

"But you escaped."

"Lucky thing, too. It's funny, but I remember the orn I escaped more clearly than the rest of it."

"Maybe if I'd gone through that, I'd be stronger."

"No." It was vehement, and I looked at him in surprise to see his head shaking fervently. "It would ruin you, Nova. I never want you to go through that."

I sent Starscream back to Kaon with most of the army, then (since I knew Lugnut wouldn't leave me alone and I needed someone to distract him) brought Hurricane and Lugnut with me as I flew for Khalkon.

"I hate dust," Hurricane grumbled gloomily.

"Then stay inside and have a cube or something. And distract Lugnut for me, will you?"

He sighed heavily but nodded, and I entered Steelcrusher's store.

My idea of a perfect orn was dropping everything to spend a few megacycles with Apis. I told her what I'd been up to lately, sharing my concerns about the possible mutiny Jazz had warned me about and the likelihood of a spy among us. After that I took her flying again, and then we lazed in her quarters. She told me about her life in the settlement, describing the antics of her friends, the strange customers who sometimes came in, what new shipment of parts they'd gotten and how frustrating it was to organize everything properly.

"I'm sorry," she giggled after a while. "But compared to what you've been telling me, this must all seem so boring."

"Not at all," I assured her. "Normal mechs doing normal things… it helps remind me what I'm fighting for."

"Mm," Apis hummed, putting down her empty cube and half-turning from where she sat on my lap to curl into my side. "It's so nice just to spend time with you."

I set down my own cube and leaned back, taking her with me so she was sprawled across my front. I linked my hands around the small of her back and nuzzled the side of her face. "Peace and quiet is rare for me." I pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw. "Having a beautiful femme to spend it with just makes it all the better."

Apis chuckled and began stroking my head vents. "Who's this 'beautiful femme' you're talking about?" she joked. "I'ma gonna git jealous if you keep talking like that."

I grinned into her neck and stroked the wheel-halves on her back, reveling in how she snuggled closer, little engine purring. "Well, she's small and orange. Pretty fast… for a groundpounder." She smacked my shoulder. "She's got these adorable handlebars…" I kissed the corner of her mouth and said handlebars wiggled happily. "…and even though she can't see it for herself, she's the most beautiful femme I've ever met and the only one I will ever love." I smiled up into her wide orange optics.

"Oh, Nova," she sighed, kissing as close to my mouth as she dared, "you're out saving the world while I'm here selling spare parts." Embarrassed, I tried to protest, but she hushed me. "It takes a brave mech to do what you're doing, and I am proud to love a mech like you."

She beamed and I wanted to kiss her more than anything, never mind that I seemed to crash every time I attempted it. I wanted to try again.

I pushed myself onto my elbows and moved to brush my mouthplates against hers.

Apis stayed stock-still, but as time passed and it became apparent that I was still conscious, she hesitantly moved to reciprocate. It was chaste, which I supposed was proper for a first kiss (those times I had crashed simply didn't count), and we parted as slowly as we'd come together.

"Nova, you… you didn't crash!" Apis said, and her proud joy made me grin and lean in again. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders while one of my hands moved to rest in the curve of her waist, the other cupping the back of her neck. I dared to trace the seam of her waist and she moaned quietly, lips parting under mine. I took the invitation and moved in deeper.

Our movements quickly became more confident as we pressed closer, vents humming, systems heated. I toppled us forward to grind my cockpit against her protruding chassis and she threw her head back, moaning as I tasted the cabling of her neck, and that sounded equally delicious so I moved up to kiss her again. This one was more passionate than the first two, glossas entwining, denta clacking and blissful, annoying darkness— wait…

Fraggit.

I came online flat on my back with a giggling femme on my chest. Apis's mirth only increased at my frustrated groan and she leaned forward to softly brush her mouthplates against mine.

"Don't worry, love," she cooed, and Primus did that make my systems melt, and her wicked grin made yet another cooling fan kick in as she went on, "Practice makes perfect."

I felt wonderfully content and relaxed by the time we flew back to Kaon. I liked the physical outlet that Ramrod offered, but he'd said himself that emotional connection wasn't his strong suit. Apis reminded me who I was and why I was doing this.

We came in low over Kaon.

/Finally home,/ Hurricane said. /I need a trip to the washracks… I think all this dust is jamming my—/

Cannonfire rang out and Hurricane gave a squawk over the comm, falling, transforming, still falling, smoke trailing behind him. I dove after him but more fire brought me up short.

/Hurricane! Hurricane, respond!/

There was no answer. Lugnut sent a burst of static and though I couldn't understand his words, we both dove below the shots. We landed just outside the base, guns aimed, and I was about to demand an explanation when I recognized the mechs who had fired on us. I hadn't expected to see any of them again: Legonis, his face still warped and melted, Octus, and Seizer, flanked by Skystalker and Thunderwing. Legonis and Skystalker held Starscream between them, Legonis's blaster wedged under his jaw.

"Stand down and lower your weapons, or his face will end up like mine," Legonis commanded, blaster humming.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, motioning for Lugnut to put his arms down.

"The meaning of this," Legonis answered, still not lowering his blaster, "is that leadership of the Decepticons has been taken over by the Triumvirate."