Chapter One

Chapter One

Misfire streaked down towards the power plant, his weapons firing wildly. He knew he wouldn’t hit anything, he never did, but the shots would keep everyone’s heads down. There was a loud groan as he transformed from his futuristic jet mode into robot form. He landed inside the plant and looked around him.

He found one of the fusion reactors and opened up his battered chest to reveal his energon storage unit. He unfurled a cord and attached it to the reactor, allowing energy to flow from the reactor into his storage unit. He winced in pain as the energy transferred, wishing that he could get a hold of some real energon, instead of this hard stuff. But all energon storage facilities were heavily guarded by Autobots, leaving him with only a few places to get a meal.

As he soaked up the energy, he thought of the golden times when he had been stationed on Earth when the Decepticons had ruled it. Then energon, the real thing, was plentiful and he could take a hot oil bath whenever he wished. Now his joints were so corroded and dry that they created a horrible noise whenever he transformed.

A shot streaked past him and hit a catwalk just over his head. Misfire turned and saw three Autobots standing there. Getaway, Slapdash, and Rollbar, he thought to himself. The Throttlebot wouldn’t be a problem, but the other two were more than a match for him. “All right, Misfire, time for you to go to the penal facility on Cybertron,” Getaway said, his weapon pointed straight at Misfire’s head.

Misfire unhooked himself and closed his chest. “I know, I know. You’ve been hunting me for nearly ten years now, it’s about time you finally caught me.” Misfire let his hands hang loose so that he could easily grab his weapon.

“Don’t try anything, Misfire. Besides, we all know you can’t aim, so there’s no way you can take us all out,” Rollbar called out.

“Maybe you’re right,” Misfire replied, trying to sound like he was ready to surrender.

“Now drop your weapon and kick it over to us,” Getaway ordered.

“Sure thing, Getaway. By the way,” Misfire began as he drew his weapon. “How good are you at getting away?” Getaway stared at him strangely for a moment, as did the others. That gave him the time he needed to blast at a connection to the fusion reactor. A barrage of shots hit the connection, finally severing it. Radioactive gas began to flood the power plant. The Autobots were blinded and heard a loud grating noise as Misfire transformed. He streaked over their heads and into the air.

“Alert Dogfight and Strafe that we’ve got a Decepticon raider in the air,” Getaway ordered, coughing from the fumes.

“Can’t,” Slapdash replied. “The radiation is interfering with our comlinks.”

“Great. Well, we’ll have to let him go then. Any human casualties?”

“I don’t think so. I think most of them had the common sense to run when Misfire broke in here,” Rollbar responded.

“Good. Well, gentlemen, have a seat. It’ll be a while until a crew can get here to clean the area up.” Getaway sat down heavily and the other two followed suit.

“We messed up our first action in eight years,” Slapdash grumbled.

“Maybe we’ll get another crack at him,” Rollbar suggested.

“I doubt it.” The Autobots sighed and silently waited for an engineering team to arrive to clean the radiation in the area up.

Misfire laughed to himself as he left the human colony behind him. Even after eight years he still had it. Sure, he still couldn’t aim, but he was clever and resourceful enough to get himself out of tough spots. He had to be. He hadn’t seen another Decepticon since his wingman, Triggerhappy, had been captured by Jetfire and the Aerialbots five years ago.

He stopped laughing as he thought of the sad state of affairs in the universe. The humans and Autobots controlled everything, and the few Decepticons who had not been present at the Battle of Centauri were left to fend for themselves. They had no leader, no organization. Thus the Autobots picked them off at their leisure. The situation had been reversed thirty-five years earlier.

Misfire remembered watching Skywarp and Thundercracker tie a wounded Autobot up against a tree. His name was Sureshot, a sharpshooter, which Misfire despised if only because they could do what he could not. He had used Sureshot’s own weapon to kill him. Since his aim was so poor, it had taken a long, long time. They had left the corpse there, and Misfire had seen the rusting hulk as he had fled from Earth when the cursed Autobots and humans had taken the planet back. If I had the energon I’d show these Autobots that we Decepticons are still the superior race.

He plowed through the empty blackness of space, wishing that he had just one of his old comrades back to banter with. Seeing nothing but distant stars and empty space made him wonder if he shouldn’t just go to Cybertron and surrender. He could become part of the United Cybertronian Government like some Decepticons had done. He could still be a Decepticon and live on his home planet. Except that I have to live by Autobot rules, he thought. I would have to give up everything I loved, it isn’t worth it. But, how much longer can I stay on the run?

He rolled hard to the right as his comlink activated and startled him. The voice coming over it was a little garbled, but recognizable as that of Soundwave, one of Megatron’s most trusted lieutenants. Perhaps Megatron lives after all! “Attention all loyal Decepticon units. Report at once to the following coordinates. Explanation will be given upon arrival.” The coordinates came up on Misfire’s navigation computer and he saw that they were very far away. It will take a couple of months to get there. But, if Megatron is alive and has a plan, than it will be worth it. Misfire booted his afterburners and streaked towards the unkown destination.

***

Override transformed and found that the water and muck came up past his ankles in robot mode. I don’t detect any Decepticons in the area, this had better not be a trick, he thought to himself as he turned on his headlight to light up the night. He hated the swamps on Hreda Prime, they were always so spooky at night. Still, someone had reported a Decepticon in the area and he had been assigned to check it out.

Just one more sweep and then I can go back to base, he thought, letting his sensors cover the swampy area once more. Suddenly, he heard a creaking noise and drew both of his hyperpulse laser pistols. He turned his headlight towards the noise and saw something large and black standing there. It looked robotic, but it didn’t seem like a Decepticon.

“Halt! Put down your weapon and come forward slowly,” Override called out.

The black object shifted and Override heard a splashing noise. Good, this should be easy, he thought. Another ‘Con down. The object took a step forward and Override could see that it was not a Decepticon at all. It was some kind of human-controlled machinery.

The object was about ten feet taller than Override with short arms protruding from a hexagonal body. Its legs were reversed at the knees so that they seemed backwards. There was no head to speak of, but he could see a cockpit at the top of the thing that was lit with a dull green light. He could barely make out a human inside, operating a control panel. By the Matrix, what is that thing? Override wondered.

“Identify yourself,” he called out.

The machine pivoted at the hips so it faced him directly. Then there was a bright green light coming from both arms. Override was hit twice in the chest and fell backwards into the swamp water. He heard a grinding noise and heavy splashes as the machine approached him. Override looked around him, trying to find where his weapons had fallen. He saw one gun gleaming silver in the darkness and reached over for it. As his fingers touched it, the machine reached him. Its left foot came up into the air and then crashed down on Override’s elbow. He screamed in pain and saw the human machine pivot so that its cockpit faced him. He was almost certain he saw the human pilot mutter some curse before the chest of the enemy erupted in blue light. Override was hit squarely in the head and his world instantly went black.

The headlight went out and the swamp was dark once more. The human pilot marched his machine back into the trees. “Very good, Celia. It looks as though my weapon performed flawlessly,” Simon James’s deep, British voice said.

“Perhaps,” Celia Marshall replied. “But this one was weak. You might not be so confident when we try it against something bigger.”

“I know. Still, the weapons systems all worked flawlessly. I didn’t detect a single malfunction. And the damage inflicted was more than I expected.”

“Yes, the ultrapulse lasers did a lot of damage to its arms and the plasma cannons ripped through its head like it wasn’t there. However, the maneuverability leaves a lot to be desired. Can you perfect the controls?”

“It’s not so much the controls as the design of the machine itself. We don’t yet have the technology to perfectly replicate Transformer design. This design is bulky, but its firepower makes up for that.”

“Good. I’ll arrange a meeting with the others once we return to Earth. This should give us the power we need to begin our plans.”

“I agree. The League will be pleased with this test. I have everything recorded, so they can analyze it.”

“So what should we do with the body?”

“That’s your department. But from the damage inflicted, I don’t think they’ll believe a rogue Decepticon attacked it.”

“You’re right.” Marshall broke the connection and stared at Override’s corpse. The damage was too much for a Decepticon attack and there was no way that she could fake it. “I guess we’ve got a passenger, then.” She tapped a button on her command console and a mechanical arm reeled out of the left arm. It grabbed Override by his right leg and hefted him into the air. Then Marshall turned the machine around and headed for the shuttle where James was waiting for her.

***

“What is it?” Hot Spot asked impatiently. Hot Spot was commander of the Autobot garrison on Hreda Prime, a duty which he cursed almost daily. The climate was horrible and there was never any action. Moreover, it was one of the inhabited colonies farthest from Cybertron, putting him completely out of touch with his home.

The door to his office and his fellow Protectobot Groove stepped inside. “Sorry to bother you, Hot Spot, but it’s been twelve hours and no word from Override. He went out to investigate a Decepticon sighting in the swamps and hasn’t come back,” Groove reported quietly.

“Great. Have Blades search the swamps and put First Aid on stand-by. You, me, and Streetwise will head out to the swamps and search from the ground,” Hot Spot ordered.

“I got it. What about the others?”

“Put the base on red alert and tell Brawn that he’s in command while we’re out there.”

“Brawn? Isn’t he a little...slow for the job?”

“He’s next in the chain of command. Besides, it’s either him or Wheelie.”

“I see your point. I’ll relay your orders immediately.” Groove turned and left, leaving Hot Spot alone in his office once more. Finally, some action, Hot Spot thought as he stood and hurried from the room. He met up with Groove and Streetwise outside and they transformed and rolled out for the swamps. He probably just got caught up in some vines or something, Hot Spot mused as he raced towards the scene.

“I’ve got something directly below my position. Metal composition, appears to be Cybertronian alloys. I’m not picking up any sparks, though,” Blades reported as he hovered over part of the swamps in helicopter mode.

“All right, we’ll check it out,” Hot Spot answered. “Stay over our position and keep your eyes peeled for any Decepticreeps.”

“No problem boss.” Blades cut off his comlink and swept the area again with his sensors. Nothing in sight, as usual, he thought.

Hot Spot transformed and led the three Protectobots to the position Blades had indicated. He knelt down in the muck, his sensors picking up what Blades had detected from the air. “I think I’ve found something.” He reached down and his fingers touched something hard. He hoisted the object up and saw that it was covered in filth. Hot Spot used his fingers to clean off the mud and he shot to his feet in shock. “By the Matrix!”

“What is it?” Streetwise asked.

Hot Spot showed his two comrades what he had found. It was what had been the right side of Override’s face, although it was badly burned and mangled. “It’s Override,” Groove breathed.

“Looks like there is a ‘Con in the area,” Hot Spot said.

“No, there isn’t,” Streetwise replied.

“What do you mean?”

“Look at that damage, those are plasma burns on his face. None of the remaining Decepticons have that much firepower.”

“Then maybe we missed one.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. Let me look around the area to check it out.” Hot Spot nodded and Streetwise began to sweep the area with his sensors. “Blades, do a wide-area scan for ion particles.”

“OK,” Blades answered, a note of questioning in his voice.

“Ion particles? You think a ship took off near here?” Hot Spot asked.

“I’m sure of it. I’ve detected indentations beneath the water. Something very heavy was stomping through here. Either they had a ship waiting for them or they transformed into one. Either way, there should be an ion trail left behind.”

“Why couldn’t the Decepticon just stay in the area?”

“The rest of Override isn’t anywhere around here. And since the footprints seem to end after about a half of a mile from here and there aren’t any tire or tread marks, whoever attacked him must have taken his body and fled by air.”

“If it was a ship, wouldn’t there be some markings of some sort. Foliage burns from the engines, that sort of thing. There probably are. I can’t detect them from this range. We’d have to slog across this swamp to find out.”

“Scan complete,” Blades interrupted. I’ve got a heavy concentration of ion particles a half a mile from you. Want me to check it out?”

“Negative. Return to base immediately. We’ve got to get a priority message to Cybertron immediately,” Hot Spot replied.

“Shouldn’t we investigate further?” Streetwise asked.

“I don’t want to chance it. Whatever blasted Override had a lot of firepower. I don’t want anyone out here by themselves. Besides, what more do you think you can find?”

“Not much unless they left an ID card or something.”

“That’s what I thought. Protectobots, roll out!” Hot Spot took a couple of steps and transformed, the big tires of his fire truck mode plowing through the mud. Streetwise and Groove waited until they had walked out of the swamp and then transformed. Then the Protectobots headed for Cybertron to log their report.

***

It took weeks for the report to travel through space and reach Cybertron. Minister of Security Kup held the report in his hands as he walked into the main conference room of the command center on Iacon. Seated around the eliptical table as he entered were Optimus Prime, Jazz, Prowl, Blaster, and Jetfire. Good, a private meeting, the old warrior thought to himself as he sat down next to Jetfire.

“I gathered by your tone, Kup, that this was not going to be another quick meeting about how nothing has changed in our space,” Prime said.

“No, Optimus. I’ve received word from Hrega Prime, in the outer regions of explored space, that one of our soldiers was killed two weeks ago while on patrol. This is the report that Commander Hot Spot filed,” Kup fed the report into a holographic display that popped up from the middle of the table.

Optimus read the report carefully, taking in every detail. Normally these security meetings were very short and very boring, but this was not going to be the case this time. From Hot Spot’s report, something very bad had happened on Hreda Prime, a terrible, gruesome act. There was silence as the other Autobots read and Optimus finally reached the section that included Streetwise’s findings. “We cannot confirm who conducted the attack, but it could have been a Decepticon, although I don’t find that likely. A more plausible explanation is that a rogue Autobot unit or something that we have not encountered before.” Optimus stopped reading and tapped his faceplate in thought. A rogue Autobot unit? It was possible, even so long after the civil war. Still, he did not consider it very likely.

Optimus rested his arms on the table and looked around the room. “Thoughts?” He asked.

“We should send a team to Hrega Prime to investigate further,” Blaster suggested.

“Streetwise is a trained investigator. He’s already found everything that can be found on Hrega. Besides, the swamps on that planet are so thick we’d have to drain them in order to uncover anything else,” Kup replied.

“So what do you suggest?” Prowl asked.

“I don’t think there is anything we can do, except to beef up security on the colonies in the outer regions and see if anything happens.”

“We don’t have the troops for that kind of deployment,” Prowl responded.

“Well, we can’t just leave our friends hangin’ there, waitin’ to get slagged,” Jazz retorted.

“We don’t have a choice, except to abandon those planets entirely,” Prowl argued.

Before Jazz or Kup could respond, Jetfire interrupted. “I hate to say it, but I agree with Prowl on this. We barely have enough troops to cover Cybertron, Earth, and our colonies now. If anyone tries anything against us, we won’t be able to handle it. However, there is a solution, but you aren’t going to like it.”

“What is it?” Optimus asked.

“Rearm the Decepticon defectors and give a couple of planets to them to guard. We could pull our units off of those places to reinforce other worlds.”

“Rearm those Decepticreeps? Over my dead body!” Kup exclaimed.

“Like it or not, those Decepticreeps are part of the United Cybertronian Government now. They have sworn allegiance to that government and promised to abide by its rules,” Prowl replied.

“You would actually trust the ‘Cons?”

“Of course not, but I don’t see where we have a choice. One of our comrades was horribly murdered. We have to do something, and we can’t just abandon those colonies. It’s only logical.”

“I trust my gut better than your logic.”

“I have to agree with Jetfire and Prowl as well,” Optimus Prime’s deep voice rumbled quietly. “Override was not just killed, he was slaughtered. We can’t just pretend that it did not happen. Nor can we afford to lose the strategic reserves on those colonies. Therefore, this is our only way to solve the problem. How long would it take to get the former Decepticons into position?”

Kup sighed and answered, “Two months to get them armed and to the planets, another month to change the guard and redistribute our personnel.”

Optimus nodded and turned to Jetfire. “Have the Striking Eagle ready to launch in one hour. I want to go to Earth and see if the humans can give us any help. Now, are there any other incidents of note?”

Kup read off a few minor scuffles on Cybertron, Earth, and a handful of colony worlds. None of those were nearly as gruesome as what had happened on Hreda Prime. Fifteen minutes later, the meeting was adjourned and the council members went their separate ways.

***

Jetfire arrived at the Striking Eagle’s dock and gazed at the magnificent ship. The Eagle was a human-designed ship, with the fastest engines of any ship in the Cybertronian inventory. It had gotten its name because the ship looked very much like an eagle ready to strike. The nose was angular and pointed like a beak and led to a long, graceful back with sweeping wings. A boarding ramp descended and Jetfire was about to climb up when he saw Joyride flash past him in dune buggy mode. A moment later Grimlock came charging down the ramp in dinosaur mode, looking very, very angry.

Jetfire was used to that and grabbed the Dinobot around the neck, spinning him around. “Grimlock, what is this all about?” He demanded.

“Him Joyride call me Grimlock slow and stupid. Him Joyride say me Grimlock should quit Raptors.”

Jetfire sighed and looked around. “Joyride, get over here!”

The red, white, and blue dune buggy emerged from the shadows and Joyride transformed. “What’d I do?” He asked.

“Did you insult Grimlock?”

“Of course not, boss. I’d never do a thing like that.” Jetfire stared at the younger warrior, trying to read his face.

“Then what did happen?”

“Arcee had us cleaning some plasma conduits and Mr. Butterfingers there dropped a toolbox on my head. I merely said that he should be more careful next time.”

“Why were you two cleaning plasma conduits?”

“Because I whipped Grimlock at some training exercises and he tried to take my head off for it.”

“You cheated!” Grimlock roared.

Jetfire shook his head and sighed again. “I don’t need this right now. Optimus Prime is going to come aboard in about twenty minutes and the last thing I need is for him to see you two fighting. Now start getting along or I’ll transfer you both out.” Jetfire turned on his heel and stormed up the ramp, heading for the bridge.

Why did I ever decide to let those two in? Jetfire thought to himself. Joyride and Grimlock were both very capable warriors, but they just couldn’t get along. Joyride was a poor winner and Grimlock was a really poor loser. They both boasted about their exploits and their superiority constantly. The bottom line was that they were too much alike to get along. Still, they were such great warriors that he couldn’t let them go. I’ll have to have a talk with them later.

The doors to the bridge hissed open and immediately he saw someone stand up and head towards him. A pink and white female Autobot fell in beside Jetfire as he headed for his station on the octagonal bridge. “Engineering reports a half hour until launch,” Arcee reported crisply.

“Good. Optimus will be aboard in twenty minutes. I assume all stations checked out?”

“Yes, sir. The Striking Eagle is ready for a fight, if it should come to that. In the meantime, it will be more than ready to handle a simply courier mission.”

“I’m glad you have so much confidence in this ship. Make ready for launch, I’ll be at my station until then.” Arcee saluted and left. Jetfire sat down at his station and activated his computer terminal. Unlike the dozen other stations on the bridge, Jetfire’s was sealed off by a clear, sound and blastproof bubble. It served as his office when the ship was on a mission, which had been almost constantly during the war. Now Jetfire noticed a slight build-up of dust on the computer monitor. I’ve been away too long, he thought. He accessed the latest training test results for the Raptors and began to go over them.

Arcee turned to her first officer, Chromedome. “Is she ready for launch, Chromey?” Arcee asked as cheerfully as she could.

“The engines are being readied. We’ll be ready when Optimus comes,” Chromedome responded.

“Good.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but wasn’t today the day you were going to visit...” Chromedome began quietly.

“Yes,” Arcee interrupted.

“Did you go?”

“Yes.”

“Well...how did it go?” Chromedome prompted.

Arcee looked at her first officer sadly and answered, “Not as well as I had expected. Let me know when Optimus comes aboard.”

Chromedome nodded and Arcee went over to her station, which was similar to Jetfire’s. There wasn’t room on the ship to put a full-fledged office like on other Autobot ships, but Arcee didn’t usually mind. This, however, was one of the times that she wished she did have a completely private office.

She knew that she could go to her quarters. Chromedome could handle the launch preparations and give her plenty of notice before Optimus came aboard. However, she kenw that it wasn’t appropriate for the captain of the ship to be absent during the launch preparations. It would make her seem weak, and if nothing else, Arcee always tried to be strong in front of her crew.

She sat down in her chair and numbly stared at her computer screen. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. She had gone to see him in the United Cybertronian Rehabilitation Facility. It was a fancy term for Cybertron’s nuthouse. It was where they held Autobots and Decepticons who had gone crazy over the course of the war. The facility held about fifty Cybertronians to date, but there was only one that she was interested in. Even though he had betrayed her, he was still the only one she had ever really loved. As happened after every visit, she thought back to when her world had collapsed around her.

There was the smell of smoke in the air and a thick cloud of it wafted past Arcee as she lay crouched in the rubble-strewn alley with five other Autobots. The others were all badly injured and two, Huffer and Tailgate, were already dead. She could hear heavy footsteps approaching and knew that her doom was coming. The worst part of it all was knowing that the hand of death came in the guise of a friend.

She checked the charge on her pistol and took a look back at her comrades. Then she rushed forward into the smoke, towards the approaching footsteps. As she was enveloped in the darkness, she heard something tearing through the air. Before she could react, a sword slashed into her left shoulder. Arcee grunted in pain and took a blind shot at her attacker. Then she lunged forward into the clear.

Immediately she saw who had attacked her. Springer, the love of her life, poised his sword to strike again. Behind him, she could see Hot Rod, who was calling himself Rodimus Prime now that he had captured the Matrix, engaged in a battle with Optimus Prime. Hot Rod and a group of his rogue Autobots had trapped Optimus and his entourage in the Cybertronian city of Pelfan while the Autobot leader was inspecting the garrison in the area. While the rest of Hot Rod’s forces battled with the garrison, Hot Rod and a smaller group went after Optimus.

“We meet again,” Springer sneered at her, a look of contempt on his face.

“Springer, don’t do this,” Arce said. “Can’t you see that this is wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that that fool Optimus Prime is leading us down a road to destruction. Rodimus Prime is the only one who can save us now. He’s the only true leader.”

“Listen to yourself spouting such rhetoric! The ‘Bot I knew would never do anything like this. He would never help to destroy his friends.” She looked into his eyes, hoping that she could finally reach him. “Please, don’t do this.”

“You don’t understand. I have to do this. It’s the only way to stop the war!”

“By destroying the Autobot army?”

“By purifying it!”

“And I’m not pure enough for you? Springer, I love you, how can you do this?”

Springer’s mouth twisted into a snarl and he lunged forward with his sword. Arcee was caught off-guard, but was able to twist and dive to her right just as the sword flew past. She rolled onto her back and fired a pair of shots in Springer’s direction. She heard him scream and got to her feet.

She saw him lying on his stomach, the sword having clattered from his hand. There was a hole in his back and another in his right shoulder. She ran to his side and knelt down beside. “Oh, Springer, what have I done?”

Springer groaned and as Arcee wept over him, his right arm came up and smashed into her left arm. She rolled off of him and he got to his feet. Arcee saw a look of rage on his face as he grabbed her by the neck and hefted her to her feet. He knocked her weapon from her hand and it went flying with a distant sound as it hit the ground. He stared at her for a moment and then his left fist smashed into her face. Arcee was released from his grip and stumbled backwards, barely keeping her feet. In a fury Springer charged forward and landed punch after punch on her body. Arcee couldn’t fight back, there was no chance for her to interrupt the whirlwind of punches. He nailed her with an especially hard right and she fell to the ground. He looked down at her in satisfaction and turned away. She heard him walking away, presumably to retrieve his weapon.

Arcee wanted to get up to fight back, but she couldn’t. “Systems damage critical,” a computerized voice told her cheerfully. I’ve got to get up, I’ve got to stop him, she thought to herself. The damage was too severe in her limbs, though. All she could do was wait for him to finish the job. She heard heavy footfalls approaching and knew that he was coming to finish the job.

Her vision was blurred, but she could see that he was standing over her with his sword poised over his head. He was about to lower it when something red tore through the air and hit his arm. Springer was hit several more times and Arcee knew that she was going to live. The last thing she saw was him toppling backwards and landing with a loud noise. Then her vision blacked out.

She had woke up in a Cybertronian repair bay days later, Ratchet looking over her concernedly. “You were pretty banged up when you came in here,” he said. “I was worried that you wouldn’t make it.”

Arcee tried to say something, but her vocal system was still damaged. Instead, she nodded to show her understanding. “Don’t worry, your vocal system will be up soon. In the meantime, just try and get some rest.” She nodded again, but knew that she could never really rest. At the time she was sure that Springer was dead, but Jetfire came to visit her a day later.

“What happened?” She asked, her voice a little gravelly from the damage.

“We managed to send the rogues running and got word from Tailpipe that Optimus had been ambushed. The Aerialbots and I rushed to the scene and saw Springer about to kill you. Slingshot got him with a shot to the shoulder, which knocked his sword away. Silverbolt and I hit him with a few more shots and he went down. I had Slingshot make sure you were still functional while the rest of us went to help the others.”

“Is he...functional?”

“Springer is badly damaged, but Fix-It managed to save him. He’s under heavy guard right now to make sure he doesn’t escape.”

“How’s Optimus?”

“Badly damaged, but operational. Hot Rod escaped with the Matrix, though. At least he didn’t kill Optimus.”

“Thank the Matrix for small favors.”

Springer had been left in a prison for a while, but escaped when the Decepticons took Cybertron. He and the other rogue Autobots had been captured two years later and put into the Rehabilitation facility. She visited Springer when she could, but he hadn’t changed at all. The psychologists assured her that he was making some progress, but she wasn’t very sure.

The worst part was that no one knew what was wrong with him. Every system had been checked for damage or viruses and had come up negative. There was no physical reason why he was acting like he was. The only explanation was that there was something wrong with him mentally. Even so, no one had been able to determine a cause. So Arcee waited day after painful day, hoping against hope that the Cybertronian and human doctors would call her and tell her that Springer was cured; that the love of her life had returned to his old self.

She heard a tap on the clear bubble and turned to see Chromedome standing there. She opened the door and stepped outside. “What is it?” She asked.

“Optimus wants to see you.”

“He’s aboard already?”

“I hate to tell you, but we’ve been underway for about two hours now,” Chromedome looked at her worriedly. “You were thinking about him, weren’t you?”

Arcee nodded slowly. “Yes,” she admitted. “I just...I just can’t get over it. He tried to kill me, but I still love him. I can’t bear to see him like this. I can’t stand to see the look of contempt in his eyes when he looks at me.”

“They’ll find a way to cure him, eventually. In the meantime, you’d better go see Optimus...” Before Chromedome could finish, Red Alert ran up to them.

“We’re getting a signal from Cybertron. A group of Decepticons stole a frigate from dry dock,” Red Alert reported.

Arcee looked at Chromedome and then back at Red Alert. “Intercept them immediately. Have Jetfire and the Aerialbots launch to ascertain the condition of the ship. And order all Raptors to prepare to board the ship.” Red Alert hurried away to carry out the orders.

“Looks like some Decepticons are a little anxious to get off Cybertron,” Chromedome said as they went to their stations.

“I know. We’ll have to find out why.”

“Autobots are on our tail!” Scrapper called out.

“I am aware of that,” Bugly replied. He was sitting at the helm of the frigate and turned to look over at his comrade. “They will not be in a few more moments.”

“However do you plan to get us out of this?” Onslaught demanded.

“Just watch and learn,” Bugly replied. He tapped a few keys on his controls and waited. If his plan worked then the cursed Autobots would be off of their tail and they could go make the rendezvous.

Jetfire called over to Silverbolt, who was flying next to him, “We’ll just do a fly-by the first time around. If they fire at us, then we go in guns blazing.”

“Great. Do you think it’ll come to that?” Silverbolt asked.

“Not if these ‘Cons have any sense.” Jetfire broke to the left and Silverbolt broke to the right side of the ship. As Jetfire approached the ship, he felt something odd. Suddenly he was losing control and plunging towards the ship. “I’ve lost control, I’m going to crash!”

“Me too!” Silverbolt replied. Jetfire’s sensors detected that the rest of the Aerialbots were in a similar predicament. He was only a few yards from the hull and tried to transform, but his gears wouldn’t move.

Just before he was about to hit he was thrown backwards by some unseen force. He spun through space, unable to get control for nearly a minute. Then he was able to fire his thrusters and orient himself. He transformed and saw that the ship was gone. “What in the inferno happened?” Air Raid asked.

Jetfire thought for a moment and replied, “They magnetized their hull to pull us in and then reversed the charges abruptly, sending us flying.”

“A clever plan,” Silverbolt said.

“Too clever,” Jetfire growled. “Let’s back to the ship and report what happened.”

“Optimus is going to blow a fuse when he hears this,” Fireflight mused. Jetfire nodded and transformed back to jet mode, streaking for the Striking Eagle. Optimus was definitely not going to be happy about losing a frigate to Decepticons. Still, it was one ship with a small crew. There wasn’t too much they could do with it.