Chapter 180
The reports from Speedia were not positive, and growing more distressing with each arrival. In spite of everything being attempted, Nemesis Convoy's use of Fire Space to initiate hit-and-run tactics were devastating the planet. The fact that Gasket and Armbullet knew the weak spots just made things worse all around.
Backguild groaned as he felt another migraine building in the back of his head. Even during the height of the Great War things weren't this bad. Back then, the lines were clearly drawn, and you knew what side you were on. Now, though, it was every man for himself. Too many agendas were being thrown into the mix, locking up the entire Alliance into a crippling power struggle.
That was why Backguild was still at the Sky Dome, with only his partner, Roots, as company. He would rather be on the front lines with the bulk of the Cybertron Army, trying to defend Speedia from the Destrons. But with Galaxy Convoy gone, Backguild, the Deputy Commander, was left in charge. And with his Third in Command in critical condition, the situation didn't allow for Backguild to take a proactive role in his duties.
"This was exactly what they wanted, Roots," he muttered. "Together, we were an unstoppable force. United we stood, now divided we fall, and those of us trying to do the right thing get crushed in the process."
The door hissed behind him, but he didn't bother to turn around. Thanks to Roots, he knew exactly who had disturbed his solitude.
"Backguild."
"What do you want, Chairman?" he asked, keeping his back to the green jet behind him.
"I need some teams sent to Earth," Dreadlock replied.
"What kind of teams?"
"Search teams."
"What for?"
"That's classified."
"Bullshit," Backguild growled. "Unless you have something more important that a planet falling apart at the seams, you can forget it."
Dreadlock moved closer, "I know you don't agree with what I did, but as Chairman, I have to make difficult decisions. That's no reason to deny my request or neglect your duties. I need those teams, whether you like it or not."
"'Neglect my duties', Dreadlock?" Backguild mocked, Roots beeping in agreement. "Look who's talking: the one who turned the entire Alliance against itself and put us in the predicament we're in now. Thanks to you, I'm stuck trying to clean up the consequences of the mess you've made."
"I'll deploy the teams myself if I have to," Dreadlock warned.
Backguild snorted, "No you won't. You can't. You don't have the authority. When you were the Deputy Commander, you had that authority, but you're not the Deputy Commander anymore. I am." The blue tank paused to turn and stare the green jet down. "The Cybertron Army deploys at my command, Chairman, not yours. I'm especially not sending any soldiers out on any kind of 'classified' mission that I'm not allowed to know about. Unless you have something more important than the crisis on Speedia, than Speedia is where the Cybertron Army will continue to focus on."
The stare down didn't last long, with Dreadlock flinching before Backguild finished talking. The blue mech turned away, saying nothing, but clearly dismissing the other. Knowing he wasn't going to get anywhere, the green jet calmly left the room.
The calm, however, was only on the exterior. Internally, Sky Shadow was fuming. He had told Nemesis Convoy that he believed Rodimus-tachi was no longer on Earth as a ruse. But the Destron leader had called his bluff, and Chromia was now leading a new search for the fugitives.
Time was running out for him. He couldn't afford to let anyone discover what he was planning; what he was creating.
He absentmindedly scratched at his chest, not noticing a tiny amount of red dust coming away.
