This is meant to be a side-story that fits into my other, much longer story "Endings of Old and Beginnings New". However, it **might** work well on its own.

I don't own the Transformers, nor do I own Skyfall by Adele.

Skyfall

President Eleanor Sherman, 50th President of the United States and first female to hold that office, was having her morning coffee in the garden room while reading over her reports on the news. They were merely basic summaries, and of nothing new at that. The stock market was soaring, her latest program had finally been passed through the Senate, everything was as it should be. Except for relations with Russia.

Their diplomacy negotiations over the middle east borders had fallen through, and it was predicted to impact the stock market in a way that was sure to leave a blemish on her record. Give me a break. I've been in office for barely a year. I have 3 more to fix it.

An aid came into the room and knocked at the door, probably reminding her that she had some meeting or other. Must not have been important if I've forgotten about it. Ben Wilson, her secret service agent and trusted friend, opened the door for the aid to come in.

Eleanor did not recognize her, which was odd. She had her blond hair pulled back into a bun, green eyes with just a tinge of worry in them watched her from their spot over high cheekbones. Her cheeks were flushed and she her breathing was audible, as if she had run a distance in a short amount of time. "Madame President, we have a situation." The aid was just barely able to breathe out, her chest heaving under an expensive white blouse.

President Sherman stood immediately, forgetting about the news briefings and her unfinished coffee, striding quickly out the door. "What's your name?" She asked hurriedly.

"Jessica," the aid answered, catching up to walk slightly behind her.

"Well, Jessica, what is it we have here? Another terrorist attack?" Eleanor walked quickly down the halls, heading for the briefing room.

"Ma'am, I can't debrief you. It's above classified." Jessica replied apologetically, walking quickly to keep up with the tall president. Sherman glanced back to make sure Wilson was following, which he was.

Coming to a stop, Eleanor faced the aid, "Thank you, Jessica, for coming to fetch me." Eleanor always made a point to thank whomever served her because, even though she was the most powerful woman in the world, she was still a human being. She had been determined, on the day of her election, that she would keep her manners and not be changed as a person. She gave Jessica a smile and entered the briefing room, Wilson on her tail, leaving the aid outside.

The usually orderly briefing room was in absolute chaos.

Advisers were on every phone, shouting for explanations of this or that. Several were in suits, others in military garb, but one thing was the same: everyone was panicked. Even her most level-headed secretaries, who had kept calm and collected through the terrorist attacks of late, had worry etched in the crevices of their faces. She was always able to depend on their reassurance and expertise, even when she did not know what to do.

So she knew that this one was big. In order for them to be spooked like that, it had to be.

And that scared her.

Wilson took her by the elbow and escorted her to her seat while she shook herself out of her stupor. Get yourself together, woman! The American people will need you for this one. She shouted above the din, deepening her voice as much as she possibly could, "ORDER!"

All activity and noise stopped as they turned to look for whomever had made the sound. Those on the phones finished their conversations quietly and hastily, before hanging up and taking their appropriate seat. Once they were all at the long, rectangular table and were looking at her, she lowered her voice and asked respectfully, "What is happening and how much do we know?"

One of the generals answered, "There seems to have been some kind of attack on the military base in Qatar. They hacked into our systems and stole information. What they have and who did it is unknown."

"No one has taken responsibility? Al Qaeda? The Russians? Syrians? Nobody?" Eleanor asked incredulously. The advisers all nodded grimly.

"Well, there have to have been witnesses. Do we have contact with them?" The general looked at her, a somber glint in his old eyes.

"As far as we can tell, there were no survivors. The only clue we have is this clip that was broadcast to our surveillance headquarters in the Pentagon," he gestured for an aid to play something on the large screen, and the room darkened as the video was shown.

A black helicopter landed on the tarmac of the desert base, where it was promptly surrounded by camouflaged soldiers. There were stern orders for the pilot to identify themselves, to which there was no reply. It did, however, power down with a gradual lessening of the sounds of the engine. Eleanor tipped her head to the side as the topmost blades came up and folded back, grouping together over the tail. There was an odd sound, almost as if it was powering up again, and someone ordered for the forces to hold their fire. She watched in awe and utter surprise as the chopper rearranged itself, forming something new. Naturally, bullets flew through the air and struck at the metal, but it seemed to have no effect on the creature. It was like rain was to a human; simply a nuisance, a harmless annoyance.

It stood on long humanoid legs, at least 30 tall, and fired huge blasts at the encompassing jeeps and men, cutting them down like daisies. She saw red, electronic eyes glow out of an almost human-like head before it sent out a great wave that shattered the glass of the camera and cut the feed. She sat there as the lights came back on, full of questions but unable to voice them because of her shock.

The advisers looked at her expectantly, and she managed to say "What was it looking for? Have we seen anything like this?"

"We know not what it was looking for, but we may have an idea of what it is." The general took a folder out of a briefcase, passing it to her. She accepted it and opened it, seeing two photographs of robots. "Beagle 2 was not a failure as was reported, madame President. It managed to broadcast 13 seconds of footage on Mars, and we saw that right there." He pointed to the one on the left, and continued "The one on the right is from the Qatar base attack." The two were unmistakably similar.

"So we aren't alone, are we?" Eleanor asked quietly, completely blown away. If one of these was on Mars, it definitely did not originate on Earth. Now she had another type of foreign policy to deal with, among huge robots that killed humans with ease.

"No, we aren't." There was heavy silence for a span of about 3 seconds before the door flew open, hitting the wall.

Another winded aid came into the room, panting "There's another attack happening on the Hoover Dam. There's live feed on stream 3!" He was escorted out by a pair of secret service agents, the door clicked shut ominously.

The stream was turned on and she watched as an F-22 Raptor transformed and fired at the electrical systems of the Hoover Dam. "What is this! Why do I know nothing of what has been happening there?"

"Its on a need-to-know basis, ma'am." One of the Pentagon generals informed her, not quite meeting her fiery gaze.

"I am the damned President of the United States, and I was not told of this until now? Whose jurisdiction is this under?" She was beyond upset now, frustrated that she had to work with a situation that she knew nothing about.

"Sector Seven, ma'am." A man she hadn't noticed before stepped from the shadows, handing her a folder. Opening it she found more papers, mentioning a NBE-1, a Captain Witwicky, a huge cube, and President Hoover of all people. "We were convened under President Hoover and assigned the responsibility of dealing with extraterrestrial technology and threats. Project Ice Man detailed the building of the Hoover Dam around the frozen alien and the cube, to protect them from detection from anyone on Earth or in space."

"Who are you?" She asked incredulously, her brain trying to keep up with everything being thrown at her. She regretted not finishing her coffee.

"Tom Banachek, director of Sector Seven, madame. Listen carefully, because we don't have much time." He was speaking hurriedly, watching the screen were the footage had switched to the inside of the dam. The cryogenics systems were failing.

"The alien you see there - called NBE-1 - crashed into the arctic several thousand years ago, theoretically because the magnetic fields there muddled his navigation systems. We think he was looking for this alien cube," the screen changed, showing an enormous metal hexahedron "but was unable to reach it."

"What does it do?" she asked intently, eyes on the screen over the runes etched on the square's surfaces.

"It makes more of these metal aliens, ma'am. Out of Earth technology." She turned to look at him, horror filling her eyes. The feed switched again, and she witnessed the enormous metal behemoth rip through metal structural supports like paper and toss them aside. "I am Megatron!" he declared, his red eyes peering into hers through the screen. The metal giant transformed and flew through an enormous tunnel, disappearing.

The cube was the subject of the feed once more, and she watched as one of the aliens touched it, tapping in certain places. It began to shrink, metal churning in block sections, into a much smaller version. The robot picked it up and left, killing a few humans aimlessly as it did so. Someone changed it again, and she watched as it was given to the biggest alien, regally placed in his enormous, deadly claws. He grinned, baring sharp metal fangs, and roared in a gravelly voice "Decepticons! Begin our assault!"

She would forever remember that moment as the time that the Invasion began.

It was too easy, she realized in fear, so easy for them to break out. Hours later, the footage began pouring in from all over the world. Chicago, Los Angeles, Hong Kong, Dubai, New York, Cairo, Paris, London. They moved her to the basement, and she hastily grabbed the folder of Sector Seven. She lost all ability to hear, transfixed on the screens of the auxiliary briefing room. Around her the sounds of panic faded away and died, as a song came back to her. It was twisted and sick, and she hated herself for thinking it right now. It was also disturbingly fitting of the videos of destruction, of alien robots crushing the human race under their feet, throwing cars like toys.

This is the end

Hold your breath and count to ten

Feel the earth move and then

Hear my heart burst again

The biggest one, Megatron, walked through the city of New York, changing Earth's machines into his army of conquest. Cars turned against their drivers, ejecting and killing them before following their leader through the streets.

For this is the end

I've drowned and dreamt this moment

So overdue I owe them

Swept away, I'm stolen

Big Ben in London had its clockface torn out with ease by a titanic Decepticon, who cackled as it fell. The bells followed, clanging the end of the human race.

Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

She watched the armies of the world get crushed easily by their invaders, as if they were little toy soldiers in the hands of a destructive child. Hopelessness and powerlessness filled her like never before, clawed at her with cold claws and bit into her with numbing fangs. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach and a primal fear ripped through her system in the form of ancient adrenaline.

Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

At skyfall

At skyfall

The Eiffel Tower was casually demolished by a passing jet, falling onto its knees and collapsing; a twisted parody of the human race.

Skyfall is where we start

A thousand miles and poles apart

Where worlds collide and days are dark

You may have my number, you can take my name

But you'll never have my heart

President Sherman was getting calls now, so many that the screens split to show all of the faces of worried and fearful leaders, allies and enemies both, as they begged her for help. She had to tell them that there was nothing they could do, nothing anyone could do. "Save yourselves. Tell your people to get out and hide, not to fight." Those words broke her, and she told the technicians to cut the signals so she couldn't see their countenances of despair. She was supposed to be the strong one, but she felt as small as a sapling in the face of a hurricane.

Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

Wilson grabbed her, his mouth moving but not making any sound. The ground shook as he threw her over his shoulder and ran with surprising speed down the tunnel. She was given a complete, unobstructed view as the ceiling of the room caved and crushed all still inside. Her mind continued to sing as if in a trance.

Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

At skyfall

They made it out into broad daylight, and she saw that several agents had followed them. He pulled her past the gates, and she watched as the White House exploded in a shower of debris and fire. She knew that the rest of the world leaders would see that as the final death blow, the knock-out punch.

Where you go I go

What you see I see

I know I'd never be me

Without the security

Of your loving arms

Keeping me from harm

Put your hand in my hand

And we'll stand

Finding a vacant hotel and managing to stay out of sight of enemy robots, she turned on the TV and watched as the destruction of the major cities finally stopped. There was a pregnant pause as the invaders moved out into the countryside and small towns, taking them with less and less of a fight from the humans. She scoured the Sector Seven folder, reading it over and over and committing the details to memory.

Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

She was surprised that the news was still being broadcast, but thought that it must be the aliens' doing. This was confirmed when Megatron showed his metal face on the screen late one night, confirming that the Earth was his and that any remaining human beings were to live; were to serve as slaves of the Decepticon Empire. The camera zoomed out, showing that he was holding Vice President Borrough in his enormous metal palm. She cried out in horror as the man was crushed in the vast metal fist, and turned away from the screen as tears ran down her cheeks.

Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

At skyfall

They made their way south, Wilson saying that it would soon be winter and they needed to get someplace warmer, fast. The screens, meanwhile, kept broadcasting the sickeningly creative executions of leaders by a cackling Megatron. Kept broadcasting the human race being pushed into makeshift pens, stripped of any electronic devices so that they could be consolidated into the Decepticon forces. Humanity was thus beaten into submission, forced to help the invaders destroy the place they called home.

Let the sky fall

We will stand tall

At skyfall

I just thought of this as I was writing Endings of Old and Beginnings of New, and thought that it would be better as a stand-alone story instead of a flashback chapter.

Reviews are much appreciated!