For over one million stellar cycles after the Great War an uneasy truce existed between the Autobots and the Decepticons. The peace-loving Autobots had no desire to pursue and persecute their defeated enemies, and the warlike Decepticons lacked the power to launch a significant assault on Cybertron or its colonies.
But in secret Megatron, the cruel leader of the Decepticons, gathered his strength and after a series of brutal skirmishes, declared open war on the Autobots and Cybertron. Several crucial Autobot colonies were captured in the opening battles and in a display of cunning and daring the Decepticons infiltrated Cybertron itself and stole a precious Autobot artefact.
Now war rages once more throughout the galaxy as the brutal Decepticons desperately seek to claim a foothold on Cybertron once more and subjugate their Autobot enemies. But hope is not lost, not while a single brave Autobot recruit stands against the tyranny of the Decepticons. Not while that Autobot recruit processes code. That Autobot recruit is you.
"What a load of scrap metal! Turn it off already!" a deep, surly voice growled, "You must've watched it a thousand times by now!"
The images flashed by on the monitor, hundreds of Autobots lining up and saluting, cheering as they boarded their starships and were sent off to war. The Autobot logo, a stylized stout red robotic face, appeared from time to time. The senior members of Cybertron Command made fleeting appearances, most prominently Ultra Magnus. And finally the 'Autobot recruit' referred to in the narration; a heroic silhouette, indistinguishable. An Autobot watching was meant to believe it could have been them.
It was more than a little cheesy. But his companion was correct. Rodimus Minor had watched it more than a few times. He turned the monitor off and his reflection appeared in the blank screen. He was, by Autobot reckoning, young and handsome; long-limbed with a slim but strong build. His chassis was deep maroon with orange plating on his arms and legs and a golden flame decoration emblazed on his chest plate. A tall orange neck collar and keeled head-crest complimented his smart appearance.
But to an unfamiliar observer even the most unassuming Autobot was an imposing sight. Over twenty foot tall, roughly humanoid in shape but far greater in build. He moved with a grace that belied his enormous size, yet he was constructed entirely out of plating, gears and cables. Everything around the Autobot was built to suit the great size of his race, dwarfing human structures.
By comparison Rodimus' companion was grim and unpleasant. He was a short, squat Autobot, barely as high as Rodimus' waist, with broad arms and legs, a neck-less head sunken into his chest, thick yellow and green armour and a scowl on his face.
"Nothing wrong with looking for a little inspiration, Brawn", said Rodimus.
Rodimus Minor, sitting at the command chair on the bridge of the starship, stood up. The ship that had been assigned to him over two hundred years ago was a fine ship, decorated in red and silver and stamped with the Autobot logo in multiple places. Known by the rather unflattering name the Upstart, he was immensely fond of it, as was his crew, and it had taken part in many dangerous missions in far-flung corners of the galaxy. But now it was on a simple course back to Cybertron. To home.
Rodimus stretched and looked at Brawn, "That video's a little on the conceited side of things, but…"
"A little?" Brawn snorted, "That's the stupidest official communiqué I've seen since Sentinel was pumping out those propaganda vids. If I hear it one more time I swear I'm gonna…"
He trailed off into a string of muttered curses and threats. Rodimus rolled his eyes good-humouredly and headed out of the door. Brawn followed him down winding corridors. On the way they passed the living quarters of the Upstart. Inside were two more Autobots, sitting on chairs and laughing at some unheard joke.
One was of average height but broad and strong to go with it, and young too. His plating was vermillion and black. The other was shorter, but still taller than Brawn. His casing was an elaborate mix of black, yellow, red and blue, and there was a mischievous smirk on his face as he looked up at Rodimus and Brawn.
"Hot Shot, Ironhide, where's Red Alert?" asked Rodimus as Brawn walked past him and sat down with the others.
"Beats me", the smirking Autobot, Hot Shot, answered.
"I think she's in the cargo hold, chief", Ironhide gestured vaguely down the corridor.
Rodimus nodded and wandered off.
Leaning back in his chair, Ironhide jerked his head in the direction of the door, "Minor seems on edge".
Brawn leaned over the table and picked up a half-empty can of motor oil and chugged at it, "Well, this is a pretty big assignment. Came right from the top bots".
Hot Shot looked up, "From Ultra Magnus?"
"Apparently", Brawn shrugged.
"What I want to know is, when's Cybertron Command gonna give Rodimus the credit he deserves? When are they gonna make him a Prime?"
Brawn scowled, "Soon, I hope. Don't see how they can justify not promoting him after this mission. You know what they called him in the Academy? 'The Chosen One'. A born Magnus, some bots said".
"And I'd agree with them", Hot Shot said fiercely, "He's seen more action than any two-bit Elite Guard officer".
"Swaggering about with their pretty logos and badges", Brawn crushed the empty oil can in his hand, "Makes ya blow a gasket, don't it?"
Ironhide sighed, "You know, when was in boot camp, I wanted to join the Elite Guard".
"So did everyone", Hot Shot pointed out.
"Well, ya bots made the right choice signing up for Deep Space Salvage with ol' Brawn", the surly bot grinned, "It's the good life. No medals, no honour, just honest hard work. Pass me another, would ya?"
Ironhide reached down and picked up another oil can, tore the lid off and held it out. At a sign from Brawn, Hot Shot levelled his arm at it. A small panel on his forearm swivelled around, revealing a hidden flamethrower. He launched a small spark of flame at the viscous oil, igniting it, and then handed it over to Brawn.
"Thanks", Brawn sipped the flaming liquid, "I like mine warm. Anyway, you know how it is. We won't be doing any Deep Space Salvage missions for a long time now, now that the war's underway".
The other two nodded. They fell silent for a moment.
"Who'd have thought it, just kicked off like that", said Ironhide after a while.
"Well, we could never have seen it coming. That ship of theirs – it just appeared over Cybertron without warning", Brawn grunted, "Must be new technology. I saw it hovering over Iacon. Dozens of Cons pouring from the hold. Over one hundred Autobot casualties, apparently".
Hot Shot looked around, and then leaned forward and whispered, "But that's not the problem, is it? Rodimus is an officer; he might know the full story. The Decepticons took something. The bosses told us that, but they won't say what".
"O-ho! They don't tell us all they know, do they? Not by half" Ironhide growled, "But whatever it is they took, it must have been one slag of a power boost to them, because the colonial raids happened right after that".
"And now they want all protoforms evacuated from the colonies", Brawn cracked his fingers, "That should be enough for us for now. When they've all been returned to Cybertron hopefully we'll get a posting on the front line. Maybe Tyroxia. You know they say the Decepticon elite were spotted there right before the Autobot assault. What I wouldn't give to go on down there and crack old Megatron one right in the face plate".
Ironhide felt suddenly uneasy, alarmed by Brawn's bold words.
"Careful what you wish for", he said quietly.
Rodimus strode quickly down the corridors of the Upstart. He'd considered remaining behind for a little to talk with the others, but then thought better of it. While he got on well with Brawn, Ironhide and Hot Shot, they weren't exactly what you could call 'refined', and they revelled in each other's company more than they did in his.
Or Red Alert's for that matter. As Rodimus strode into the spacious cargo bay he saw her, and she nodded politely at him. She was a lithe but strong femmebot, and her plating was white and red as was traditional with medi-bots. Framing her strong red-marked face was a white fan-shaped crest.
"How's the cargo holing up? Any problems?" asked Rodimus.
"Everything's fine", Red Alert answered, "Temperature's optimum. Minimum amount of transportation-related disruption. All vital signs at 100%". So relax, will you?" she looked at him sidelong, "Everything's fine".
Rodimus grinned sheepishly, "Well, you know how I am. This is a pretty big responsibility. It's not every solar cycle you get assigned cargo this precious".
He examined one of the upright pods, taller than he was, that were locked into place against the walls of the cargo room. There were about thirty of them, and each one contained a blank robotic form, doll-like and limp. Protoforms. The building blocks of Cybertronian life, as they were called.
But they were useless without sparks, and to generate those the AllSpark was needed, or at least significant amounts of AllSpark energy. For centuries the AllSpark itself had been lost, and so the Autobots had been forced to rely on an AllSpark-infused artefact, Vector Sigma, in its proxy. The Decepticons, on the other hand, began to slowly decrease without it.
Barely a year ago the AllSpark had been restored to Cybertron by a heroic band of Autobots. But almost as if in answer to this, the Decepticons had won a great victory soon after.
Somehow they had entered Cybertron's atmosphere, evading the defensive array of defence cannons. A small elite taskforce had swept into the capital city of Iacon, destroying many innocent Autobots. But they hadn't been in pursuit of victims.
This knowledge was restricted to officers like Rodimus alone, but rumour was bound to spread. The Decepticons had stolen Vector Sigma and escaped with it. The Autobots had been powerless to stop them. Vector Sigma itself was not a great loss – with the AllSpark restored, they had a limitless reserve of its precious life-giving energy – but of greater concern was that it had simply fallen into Decepticon hands.
At first it was hoped that the creation of protoforms would be beyond Decepticon knowledge, and that they had no stockpiles of spares. But the Decepticons soon came upon a solution to that – they had begun raiding Autobot outposts and colonies for protoforms. So far they had already captured over four hundred.
The Autobots were quick to defend their protoforms, but the Decepticon assault was unrelenting. And so a tide of total war had swept across the galaxy.
Every day new reports came in of Decepticon ambushes in deep space, or a heroic defence of an Autobot base, or a sighting of the Decepticon elite on Tyroxia or Cyteen. Borders rose and fell, bases were captured and recaptured, prisoners were taken, and soldiers were missing, presumed offline.
For most of the Autobots on Cybertron life was grimmer now than it had ever been. Only those who had lived during the years of the Great War had any idea what to expect.
Teams with combat experience were automatically conscripted into the Autobot Army. For civilians enrolment was optional but highly encouraged. Factories in the dark corners of Cybertron or the Autobot Commonwealth were churning out starships and weapons, and it was a sobering sight to see a young Autobot recruit, bewildered and frightened as he marched off to war, an oversized laser cannon attached to his shoulder.
As for Rodimus and his team, Team Athenia, they all had combat experience and so had been signed up automatically. Rodimus wouldn't have it any other way. In peace time his team had been assigned to Deep Space Salvage.
Deep space salvage bots were sent on some of the toughest missions to be found during peace time. When a ship or a crew went missing, the salvage bots went after them to bring back whatever and whoever they could find. In their line of work they ended up routinely dealing with meteor showers, solar storms and alien monsters. You had to be tough to handle it.
And one two occasions, Team Athenia had encountered Decepticons.
Once, many years ago, they had encountered and captured a lone Decepticon who had been stranded on an old asteroid base, half-functioning and half-mad. That had been easy, although it had cost Red Alert her left arm.
Then more recently they had been assigned to defend a space bridge against a Decepticon attack. They had all fought bravely but were overwhelmed in short order. The humiliation of it still burned in Rodimus' mind; the Decepticons looming over them, gloating and taunting. If the Decepticons hadn't suddenly and inexplicably retreated then they would certainly have been destroyed, just out of idle malice.
All of his team had been injured in that encounter, Rodimus more severely than the others. He had been forced to spend months recovering in the Cybertron Central Infirmary, disabled by an almost-fatal chemical weapon attack.
But since the war itself had broken out his team had yet to encounter a single Decepticon. They had been assigned a crucial but as of yet unexciting task – escorting protoforms from the colonies back to Cybertron, where they would be safe from Decepticon hands. Hopefully.
While Rodimus was lost in thought, Red Alert was studying a datapad. After a moment she looked up.
"We've just received a new transmission from Cybertron".
Rodimus' eyes widened, "New orders?"
"No. War update, by the looks of things".
She played the message and they both watched it closely. The usual images flashed on the screen – the AllSpark, Cybertron, the Autobot symbol, Iacon, the Metroplex, Ultra Magnus. Eventually the voice of Alpha Trion, the elder Autobot High Council member, started to list off the latest news.
Most of it was fairly uninteresting. Of course Cybertron Command wasn't going to allow sensitive information to be released in a public broadcast that could easily be accessed by any spying Decepticon. But there was news on the assault of Tyroxia, where it was reported that the Decepticons were beginning a steady retreat. Seven Decepticons had been taken prisoner in deep space.
"They never report any bad news, do they?" Rodimus muttered.
"Well, it is meant to keep up morale after all", Red Alert observed dryly, "Oh, here we go".
The voice of Alpha Trion said, "And last but not least, the Autobot garrison at New Tagan has conducted a truly heroic defence against a brutal onslaught of Decepticon attackers. Autobot casualties were minimal, as was structural damage. We owe this unexpected success to New Tagan's captain, Optimus Prime".
Rodimus exhaled deeply, "Optimus Prime".
"According to the soldiers stationed in the garrison, it was due to Optimus Prime's gallant efforts that the Decepticons finally retreated and abandoned their siege. Autobots across the galaxy can only extend their greatest thanks to this champion of our cause, who has proved yet again just what a stout spark and teamwork can achieve. This is Alpha Trion, saying…"
Red Alert switched it off before the obligatory sign-off was complete, "Hmm. Wonder bot does it again".
"Doesn't surprise me", Rodimus was grinning, "Optimus always gets the job done".
Red Alert rolled her optics, "Oh please, you don't actually believe all that garbage they say about him, do you?"
She headed out of the cargo bay and started off in the direction of the living quarters. Rodimus trotted after her.
"Optimus is the real deal, Red", the Autobot officer insisted, "A self-made bot. Just like us".
"I believe less than half the stuff they say about him", answered the femmebot, "Sure, we all saw him and his team back when they had Megatron in shackles at the unveiling of Omega Supreme, but be serious here. They say he and his team successfully ambushed the Decepticon Elite on a remote jungle planet".
"So? I believe that", Rodimus insisted.
"And that he's fought Megatron in hand-to-hand combat. More than once".
"I believe that too".
"And that he took down three giant Decepticon clones of Omega Supreme".
"I…believe that", Rodimus replied, but doubt had crept into his voice.
"They also say he wielded the Magnus Hammer", Brawn emerged from his room with Ironhide and Hot Shot, "And that he transwarped himself onto an Elite Guard ship full of escaped Decepticon prisoners, and rounded them all up by 'imself. Just like that".
Rodimus scratched his shoulder and looked down at his feet, "Well, maybe that's an exaggeration".
"And some say he can turn gasket oil into pure-grade energon. And that he shoots proton missiles outta his optics", Hot Shot smirked.
Ironhide and Brawn chuckled. Even Red Alert almost cracked a smile.
Rodimus sighed and looked up at the ceiling, "Alright guys, point made. But would it kill you to have a little faith? Optimus Prime's a real hero. He and his crew made it right to the top, and they started out just like us, doing a dead-end job in the middle of nowhere when they stumbled on the most precious cargo in the universe, and Decepticons to boot. They were just regular bots, like us".
Ironhide looked thoughtful, "Well, we've got the precious cargo. All we need now is a Decepticon attack".
The crew laughed.
"Well, we know that's not going to happen in this sector", Rodimus replied, "Come on everyone, back to work".
"Work? What's there to do?" asked Hot Shot.
"Maintenance. Hot Shot, you check on the cooling system. Brawn, I want you to…"
He was cut off by the blare of an emergency alarm. Red lights flashed up and down the hallway.
"What the slag is that?" wondered Ironhide.
Over the alarm came the drone of the Upstart's artificial intelligence control system, Spectramax-4, speaking in a blank, monotonous female voice.
"Warning. Unidentified spacecraft has entered this sector. Energy signature consistent with Decepticon warship. Warning. Spacecraft approaching. Positive identification as Decepticon warship".
The Autobots stared at one another, wide-eyed. But before they had chance to voice their surprise, the ship was rocked by external forces, sending them clattering around in the corridors, struggling to remain upright.
"Warning. Decepticon warship has engaged the Upstart. Initiating evasive manoeuvres".
"Decepticons? What's going on?" fretted Hot Shot.
Rodimus didn't answer. He was already running for the bridge. He stumbled as the ship was rocked again by what was no doubt laser fire, but managed to stay on his feet and dash into the bridge.
Lights were flashing and alarms were blaring everywhere, but what immediately drew his attention was the view through the viz-screen. At first Rodimus thought this area of space was simply devoid of stars. Then he realized, as the Upstart shifted on its automatically piloted path, that the view was blocked by the black hull of another starship. Thinking that it had to be close to block the view so comprehensively, Rodimus braced himself for a crash.
But finally he realized it wasn't too close. It was simply enormous, looming over the Upstart even at a considerable distance.
The rest of his crew clattered into the bridge behind him. He heard their gasps as they saw the ship.
"It's a Decepticon ship alright", said Red Alert.
Rodimus nodded slowly, "I recognize the markings from the propaganda vids".
Under his breath, Brawn muttered, "Starscream…"
Hot Shot heard him and span about, "Starscream? As in the brutal and sadistic Decepticon lieutenant, who shoots all his prisoners for kicks?"
The bridge of the Decepticon ship was dimly-lit, the only light coming from the soft amethyst glow of the consoles. At the rear of the room was a command chair that overlooked the various control installations and commanded the view from the viz-screen. It was empty for the moment.
But standing apart, by separate consoles, were five giant robots. Decepticons. They were taller and broader than the Autobots, and stronger-looking too. But curiously, all of the bots were nigh-identical; long-legged, with compact torsos and wide shoulders, sinewy arms, long-necked and sly-faced, with a pair of blade-like wings mounted on the upper back.
There were differences. Each was composed from a different colour palette and there were other subtle differences in head and body shape. But they were clones, without a doubt. And like all Decepticons clones they were subject to certain personality glitches, inherited from their progenitor. In this instance that progenitor was Starscream.
By one console, one clone looked up, his armour plating metallic blue with purple ornamentation. Thundercracker, the so-called 'egomaniac' clone. He sneered at the fleeing Autobot ship through the viz-screen.
"Look at them run! Typical Autobot cowardice. So shall all my foes flee me, Thundercracker, the greatest Decepticon warrior of the generation!"
Each clone spoke with the same piercing, shrill voice.
At the adjacent console a black and purple-marked clone quivered, watching his console display with growing terror. Skywarp, the cowardly clone.
"I…I'm worried", he whimpered, "If we keep going after them at this speed, our engines will burn up!"
"Oh, with you at the controls? Never, never!" Sunstorm, the sycophantic clone declared. His plating was white and orange, and he wore an unusual boxy helmet.
The clone on his right wore an even more unusual helmet, with a point that rose up to form a fearsome-looking drill. White armour and burgundy plating identified him as Ramjet, the compulsive liar clone.
"It looks like we're going to lose them! Plasma energy low!" he yelped, living up to his reputation.
"Cram it, conehead", the final – and most unusual – clone snapped.
The clone's body was broadly similar to that of the others, but of feminine shape and posture. Her plating was cyan and purple and her expression surly, despite her softer feminine features.
Slipstream, known universally as Starscream's femmebot clone. She'd emerged from the cloning process the most intact and stable, though what aspect of her famously flamboyant creator's personality she had downloaded she had yet to reveal.
"Keep the turbolasers aimed at their engines", Slipstream barked to Skywarp, "Sunstorm, keep the proton missiles in reserve. Thundercracker, maintain this course".
Thundercracker scowled at her, "Who self-destructed and made you boss?"
"You know the rules. When Starscream's not around, I'm in charge. Got that?"
He grumbled and returned to his monitor. Slipstream paced back and forth before the control chair, eyeing the fleeing Autobot ship carefully. As lieutenant of the second largest Decepticon warship, the Seeker, it was Slipstream's job to ensure the Autobots did not escape.
Ambushing the Autobot craft had been absurdly easy, thanks to the Seeker's unique upgrades. Now the more delicate work of disabling it without destroying it came into play. Fortunately the ship's crew of Starscream clones, or 'the seekers' as they were called by some these days, were excellent pilots and gunners.
After all, this was protoform's play compared to the work they had done on Cybertron.
Slipstream however was irritated that Starscream hadn't bothered to show up to oversee operations, and was about to mention it to the others when the door opened behind her. The last and most senior member of the ship's crew strode in. Starscream himself.
He resembled his clones in almost every way, clad in silver and reddish purple plating. But there was a sneer on his face of unbridled arrogance that made even Thundercracker seem humble, and a glint of malice in his optics that his relatively naïve clones could not match.
He sat down on the command chair and lounged over it, yawning loudly. Eventually he said;
"Well? What's the score?"
"Autobot vessel taking damage. Engines functioning at thirty percent", Slipstream reported, "They're slower than we are. They're not getting away".
"Ahhh", Starscream leered, "Our first catch of the day. Good thing we had a nice strong hook prepared for them. Alright, once their engines give out, activate the tractor beam and reel 'em in".
Slipstream ground her teeth in exasperation, "Only if you promise to stop using fishing analogies".
"Duly noted: and ignored", Starscream shot back.
He swivelled about in his command chair and was about to give Sunstorm some orders when he realized he had run out of analogies. So rather than lose face before Slipstream he sank back in his chair and fell silent.
He wasn't able to maintain it for long however, and said aloud, "It was so nice of Megatron to give me my own ship. And my own crew. Bit stupid of him really, but still nice".
Of course he knew that Megatron hasn't actually given him command of the Seeker out of kindness. Starscream and his fellow 'seekers' were simply exceptional pilots, the best in the Decepticon army, and they needed the best to command this particular ship.
And Megatron has little to fear from me anymore, Starscream reminded himself bitterly, What with that explosive he installed in my circuits.
At least he had been restored as second-in-command and finally given the respect he deserved. Even he had been surprised when Megatron presented him with the Seeker and explained just how important it really was.
A significant percentage of New Kaon's resources had gone into the construction of a new fleet of starships shortly after the Decepticon's defeat on Falkon V. Chief among these new vessels was the Nemesis II, Megatron's flagship, but the Seeker was the only ship with unique cloaking technology.
Not much had been salvaged from the wreck of the Quintesson lab on Falkon V, but Megatron had put what little he could find to good use. In secret Decepticon scientists managed to reverse-engineer a fully functional cloaking device; not mere holographic trickery, like the bounty hunter Lockdown depended on to keep his ship hidden.
It was with this optic and sensor-defying stealth ship that the Decepticons had swept into Cybertron unnoticed and stolen Vector Sigma. The AllSpark itself would have been ideal, but it was hidden beyond the knowledge of the Decepticons. It was only thanks to their former double-agent, Shockwave, that they had been able to locate Vector Sigma.
With its life-giving power the Decepticon ranks had been swelled, but protoforms were required to keep that up. So Megatron had dispatched Starscream and the Seeker to ambush Autobot vessels transporting protoforms from the colonies back to Cybertron.
And Starscream had every intention of completing his mission. He watched with growing excitement as the Autobot vessel rocked dramatically under intense fire from the Seeker's cannons. A moment later and it stopped dead, engines smoking and sparking, drifting powerlessly through space.
"That's our cue", Starscream stood up, "Lieutenant Slipstream, activate the tractor beam. Thundercracker, Ramjet, come with me".
"We've lost everything!" shrieked Hot Shot.
"What do you mean, everything?" asked Rodimus.
"I mean everything!"
"We haven't lost everything. Artificial gravity and lighting's still working", Red Alert pointed out.
"And the slagging alarm", growled Brawn.
The siren was still blaring and the red lights flashing. Ironhide reached out and turned it off.
"Alright, maybe not everything", Hot Shot conceded, "But let's put it this way: we're sitting in a floating hunk of dead metal at the mercy of a Decepticon starship!"
Rodimus' mind was racing. He knew that the Decepticons could have destroyed the Upstart if they'd wanted to. They must have chosen only to disable it so they could steal the precious cargo.
That meant they had to board. Which still gave them a fighting chance.
The ship was jarred again, startling them all. There was a grinding noise coming from above, the screech of metal on metal. A gap was being torn open in the hull above them.
Rodimus leapt into action, "Red Alert, seal the hull breach! Ironhide, hold the ship steady! Brawn, Hot Shot, guard the protoforms! I'll hold off the Decepticons!"
Red Alert and Ironhide slid into their respective console spaces and began trying in commands to the malfunctioning ship. Brawn and Hot Shot hurried away towards the cargo bay.
Reaching for his backpack, Rodimus produced his weapon of choice: an Energy Bow. It was a curved, composite shortbow, with easy poundage and draw, but unlike more traditional bows both the bowstring and the arrows were formed from processed energon, derived from the bow itself that charged when mounted on Rodimus' backpack.
He nocked two energon arrows and bent the string, aiming up at the rapidly-widening gap in the hull above him.
Starscream, Thundercracker and Ramjet were perched on the hull of the Upstart. Ramjet was bent over double, his head down and the drill on the top of his helmet whirring furiously as it bored through the hide of the ship.
Ramjet was cursing and muttering at the indignity of the task, and Thundercracker was irritated.
He snapped at Starscream, "This would be so much faster if you heeded my superior intellect and allowed us to blast our way in!"
Starscream didn't take his eyes off Ramjet as he smirked, "Oh, I know. This way's just a lot funnier".
Rodimus' servo joints ached as he kept the energon arrows aimed at the rapidly-deteriorating hull. At the first sight of a Decepticon, he would fire. But as of yet all that he could see was grinding metal: slivers of it were dropping to the bridge floor.
"The hull repair system's not responding!" cried Red Alert.
"I'm not having much luck with the controls either", added Ironhide.
"Keep trying!" Rodimus barked.
Then suddenly an idea occurred to him. The external manipulator arms! He could use them to attack the Decepticons before they even broke in, just like Optimus Prime had used his own ship's manipulator arms to hold off Megatron! Why hadn't Rodimus thought of it before? He'd read the report often enough…
He looked over to the arm controls and saw that they were still active. But just as he took his eyes away from the ceiling the hull was breached: metal shrieked as it was bent back. Three towering figures dropped in, one after the other. Just as they passed through a panel slid shut behind them, closing off the hull breach and preventing loss of artificial atmosphere.
"I got the hull repair system working", said Red Alert morosely, more than aware she was too late.
Without thinking Rodimus let fly his arrows. Twin bolts of energy darted towards the nearest Decepticon, but the shot was wide and the arrows plunged into the wall behind him.
Thundercracker sniggered, "Oh, you're going to have to do better than that. A lot better".
Ramjet was stumbling around, trying to stand upright.
"I'm not at all dizzy. That was one of the most pleasant tasks I've ever had to perform".
"Oh, try to maintain some professional dignity", Starscream growled.
The identity of the Decepticons had dawned on the three Autobots. They had known that Starscream was onboard the attacking starship, but they hadn't expected him to be part of the boarding party.
Red Alert attacked first. She lifted her left arm and pointed it at Starscream. Instead of ending at a hand the arm was tipped with a pointed device – from it Red Alert unleashed a hail of hard-light needles. They pattered uselessly against Starscream's armour. Red Alert flinched as she saw the futility of her attack.
Starscream didn't wait for a follow-up attack. He aimed the blaster on his right arm and fired, catching the medi-bot in the midriff. She was hurled across the room with punishing force and slammed up against the viz-screen.
Rodimus' hands were a blur as he nocked another pair of arrows and fired at Starscream. The Decepticon commander was forced to leap to one side to avoid the darts.
"Ramjet, get to the cargo bay and find me those protoforms!" he snarled as he fired back at Rodimus, who leapt nimbly behind the command chair for cover.
"I'm going home", Ramjet declared enthusiastically as he bounded out of the bridge and down the corridor, searching for a cargo bay.
"Oh no you don't!" bellowed Ironhide as he hurtled after him. Before he could make it to the door Thundercracker loomed up in front of him, grinning.
A ripple ran through Ironhide's body, and his plating changed colour in the blink of an eye, from dull orange to bright silver. It was his special ability: to coat himself in a dense alloy that could withstand intense punishment without blemish.
The egomaniac clone aimed his twin blasters and fired. The shots were harmlessly reflected by the armour.
"Hah! That's right blue-bottle, do your worst!" Ironhide chortled.
Thundercracker didn't appear impressed however, "Do my worst?" he scoffed, "Thundercracker the Magnificent always does his best!"
He bent his left knee, lifting his foot and exposing a heel-mounted sonic amplifier. There was a bang, and a sonic boom smashed into Ironhide, lifting him off his feet and flinging him effortlessly into the viz-screen alongside Red Alert.
Starscream had meanwhile cornered Rodimus, and as the Autobot went to notch another pair of arrows he lashed out with his powerful arm, knocking the bow out of the Autobot's grasp. He seized the young commander by the neck and slammed him up against the wall, glaring at him with evil eyes.
"The protoforms. Where are they?"
"Oh! They're not in here!" Ramjet said cheerfully as he peered into the cargo bay, admiring the rows of blank protoforms hanging up.
He trotted in, rubbing his hands with glee. But as he passed in he failed to notice the two Autobots hiding on either side of the door. They snuck up behind him and attacked.
Hot Shot primed his flamethrowers and launched scorching streams of fire at the Decepticon's unprotected back. The clone screeched. Brawn lunged at him, jumping up high to reach the Decepticon's head, one mighty fist raised.
Ramjet span around at the last second, caught Brawn's first in one hand and hurled him back the way he had come. He collided with Hot Shot and the two fell over each other.
The Decepticon didn't give them chance to recover. He fired round after round with his laser cannons into them, blackening their armour and rupturing circuitry.
He sighed, "This is the part of the job I hate".
A few minutes later and the three Decepticons were busy hurrying back and forth between the Upstart and the Seeker, carrying three protoforms at a time to deposit on the Decepticon ship.
"That's the last of 'em", Starscream declared, dropping an armful of protoforms on the Seeker bridge floor.
"Oh, good. Thirty-four", Slipstream said, "Oh, by the way, what did you do with the Autobots?"
"Oh, we locked them up in their tool storage locker", Starscream replied casually.
Slipstream frowned, "You know we have orders from Megatron to destroy all Autobots we encounter".
"I prefer to think of orders more as a guideline", Starscream was already reclining in the command chair, "I want my reputation enhanced, and that requires witnesses!"
She knew it was useless to argue with him. She let the matter go.
"Plot a new course", Starscream ordered, "Let's see what else we can find".
Onboard the Upstart, a sealed door rattled as if someone inside was pushing up against it. After a moment a small surgical laser blade slipped down the crack between the door and the door-frame, delicately cutting the lock. The door fell forward and out stumbled five exhausted, bruised and battered Autobots.
Rodimus Minor was the first to pick himself up. He took stock of the situation. The ship was crippled, the Decepticons had escaped and the precious cargo was stolen. But mercifully all of his crew were alive.
"Not quite Optimus Prime yet", he muttered, "Maybe halfway there".
Author's note: Hi there, I'm back! By which I mean this is the continuation of my earlier Transformers Animated fanfiction, Cybertronian Genesis. If you're new to this storyline, then I suggest you read Cybertronian Genesis or this story probably won't make much sense. It's kinda Season 5 fanfiction. Cybertronian Genesis was Season 4.
If you've already read Cybertronian Genesis and are one of my previous readers, welcome back! Thank you for making your way through my first gargantuan fic. I should mention updates for this won't be quite as rapid, as that put quite a lot of pressure on me and marred the writing in some cases.
Anyway, I received the AllSpark Almanac II in the post about 8 hours ago and, after reading it all the way through, was thrilled by what I saw and inspired to post the first chapter. I'll probably post my thoughts on how 'the mac 2' will impact my fiction on my profile at some point, but it's mostly good news.
So, hope you all enjoy this story and that it lives up to your expectations!