Chapter 1

15 years later...

The funny thing about humans, Ver mused to herself, was that they were so impatient. She supposed it came with their short lifespans; it had been less than a score of solar cycles, and Jerrod was already a man. More than that - he was the youngest Presider that had ever been in the colony of Lubann-5. But to be fair, the colony had only seen a handful. Not only was it on the very edges of human-inhabited space, it was one of the newest.

The planet had been originally chosen because of its likeness to Earth, even if it was only a bit over half its size. Its seasons and days were nearly identical to the home of the humans, or so Ver had been told. However, it was far away from any of the main trade routes, and while there were plenty of resources to harvest, there hadn't been enough to warrant more than a (relatively) small group placed on its surface. As such there was only a single city and spaceport.

A spaceport that was currently awaiting a long-needed shipment of supplies. It seemed that the entire populace was more interested in the skies, rather than whatever other matters were at hand; even those that worked at the spaceport seemed to be in a 'hurry up and wait' mode. They had done all they could, with time to spare...now all that was left was to wait for the ships to arrive. And though they were anxious about their arrival, none were more so than Jerrod. He was practically wearing a path in the floor, what with his constant moving from station to station in an attempt to make sure everything was running at peak effeciency.

Ver sighed, and looked down at one of the technicians she was helping. "I'll never get used to this," she grumbled. The technician just chuckled in response, and went back to soldering the metal along the side of the hauler.

Normally, a crew of five to ten would be working on a section, but most were out prepping (and reprepping) the yard, leaving only a scant few to other duties. And Ver, not being the kind of person to let someone do something on their on when they obviously couldn't do it, had lent her considerable size and strength to the job. She enjoyed helping out, and in a sense, enjoyed being needed. The colony had more work than manpower, and a single Transformer had eased the load considerably.

There was a more guilty reason behind her enjoyment, but Ver didn't share that with anyone. Not even Jerrod or his family, though they were the closest friends she had ever known. She shook her head, pulling herself out of her thoughts as a number of excited cries hit her audials. Looking up confirmed her assumption - she spotted an exhaust trail in the sky, then another. Five total, arriving in perfect formation. The human she had been working with grinned in spite of himself, setting down his tools.

"You may never get used to it, but me - I'll never get tired of seeing them. Right on schedule, no less," he added, glancing down at his wrist unit.

"If only everything could be the same," Ver said with an overly dramatic sigh, evoking a bark of laughter. Still, she had a slight smile on her face as well, if only for the fact that the new supplies would make Jerrod feel a lot better. He'd been tense for the past few months, with an overabundance of things they didn't need, and a growing scarcity of things that they did...and Ver knew she wasn't the only one looking forwards to his change in attitude.

She took a long look east, towards the place Jerrod called his home...and the home of his family. The home of his wife, and twin children...then she transformed, folding herself into something more mobile.

They'd need help unloading the supplies, after all.

"Checkpoint?"

The mech didn't look up from the control station, the task at hand taking up most of his concentration. Still, he responded after a few moments: "Yes, Battlemaster?"

"I've told you not to call me that anymore," the other one snapped angrily, stepping next to him.

Checkpoint still didn't look up. "My apologies, Aqus. Habit."

"Hrnnh," Aqus growled, but he seemed satisfied with the apology. He rested his hands on the panel. "How much longer until we arrive?"

"Assuming the trail is true, less than three cycles." Checkpoint shrugged nonchalantly. "Be that as it may, it's old...even with your data, it may be a failure," he added, slowly looking up at the former Battlemaster.

The Battlemaster who had abandoned his post. Aqus was still his title, in every sense of the word...he was a mech whose sole purpose was battle. Fighting them. Planning them. Teaching others about them. Up until recently, he had still been with Malis Prime and his two brothers, remaining loyal to the Prime and his own post...but for reasons Aqus did not care to share, he had left and searched out the group of renegades Checkpoint had been part of for years. They were a mismatched bunch, but one thing united them: belief that Malis was not who he said he was.

Aqus grunted in response, folding his arms across his chest. It was slightly awkward, with the way said arms formed the head of his altmode - a fearsome aquatic wolf - but he managed. Checkpoint looked back down at the screens, then raised a hand to key some of the imputs. "I must admit," he said slowly, "I...am curious over your assistance."

"I already told you all, what happened is none of your bu-"

"No, you misunderstand me." Checkpoint looked up again, meeting Aqus's annoyed gaze with a calm one of his own. "You have made it clear since coming here that you don't believe in any sort of Prime, anymore - and yet you're trying to lead us directly to Veritas Prime. Why?"

Aqus glared at him for a few moments before turning away, looking towards the large, panoramic window that was at the front of the bridge. Through it, the expanse of space could be seen, with the tiny pinpricks that were stars and planets shooting past the fast-moving ship.

"I'll get the landing party ready," he muttered, turning around and heading back the way he came.

"Look at this! Whoever packed this must have been insane, we're missing half the list!"

Jerrod almost threw the file away from himself in disgust, and it was only through sheer force of will that he was able to hold onto his temper...that, and reminding himself it wasn't the freighter's fault that the shipment was screwed up. It was the bureaucracy's fault. With someone to blame, he felt a bit better, despite the fact that half of the shipment was absolutely useless to the colony. What was he supposed to do with a full cargoload of raw fuel? What vehicles Lubann had were entirely battery-powered, they didn't have large enough ships to need that sort of thing!

Nevermind the fact that his best friend was eyeing a canister with obvious curiousity. "You may as well drink it for all the good it'll do us," he growled, evoking an arched brow.

"The grade's poor enough to get me sick, Jerrod," Ver chided gently. "And will you please calm down? You could probably trade it to another colony for what you require."

"The nearest one's a month away and we need those redcodes now," he reminded her impatiently. "We need the ore - or better yet, actual refined steel. We need the medical supplies. Hell, pretty much the only thing we don't need is this blasted fuel!" He slapped one of the containers in annoyance, resulting in a burst of pain from his hand. He hissed, holding onto it as the Transformer reached down to tap his head.

"You're not going to be able to do anything in that sort of state. Since the freighters won't take it back, you're simply going to have to find a way to handle things. You can do it," she added, at his moody expression. "I know you can."

His response was cut off by a sudden clamour from outside. Both of them looked at eachother before moving towards the large doors of the warehouse; Jerrod stepped through easily, but Ver, due to her size, had to stoop. When she straightened, she was as surprised as anyone else to see three more trails in the sky. The supply ships had created their own, but those were long faded. These were new...and somehow different then the others.

She looked down at Jerrod. "More?" she asked, confused. He shrugged helplessly.

"Frag if I know, but they remind me of something. And not our right shipments," he added, mostly to himself.

"They're not angling here, that's for sure," Ver mused out loud, using a hand to shield her optics as she activated her scanners. Her systems focused on the far-away objects, first locking onto them, then performing a full scan...

Her Spark suddenly went cold.

No.

"Ver? You hear me?"

She shook her head, pulling herself out of her thoughts before looking down. "Sorry, what?"

Jerrod arched his brow. "I said, we going to investigate or not?"

"I...I'm not sure that's a good idea." At his perplexed expression, she quickly continued. "There's so much work to be done here, Jerrod, I think it'd be a better idea if we let someone else do i-"

"This stuff's easy to handle," he scoffed, waving his hand at the idling crew of the spaceport. They weren't sure what to do; some of them were starting to go back to their tasks, the others were wondering what those new ships were. "Not to mention dull. C'mon, it'l be like old times, out exploring. You, me, nothing else except the unknown. Whatd'yasay?"

She hesitated, unsure. "I..."

"Please, Ver?"

Somewhat relucantly, she nodded. "Alright...let's go."

The ride out was one that made memories surface, but not the ones that should have. Instead of joining Jerrod in reminiscing about how they took trips out before he was elected Presider, before he had ever so much had laid eyes on the woman who would become his wife, before he knew anything but laughter and play...Ver could only linger on memories that troubled her deeply.

"Leave this place, and never return."

"But...this is my home!"

"If you speak truth and truly do not mean to disrupt Cybertron's stability, you will leave. If you stay, you will only cause strife. Your little display at the Ceremony has already caused unease, and by all rights I should end your life here..."

"Ver, look!"

Up ahead, there was smoke, and though they weren't visible yet she knew there were craters. Three, close together. She forced her voice steady as she spoke up. "Are you still sure about this, Jerrod? We should wait for some backup."

"Backup, are you kidding? Slow down and let me out, I wanna see this myself."

There was no stopping him. At this point, the least she could do would be to stay at his side. She obediently slowed, opened the door for Jerrod to hop out, then transformed back into her standard mode once he had. "Stay by me, at least."

But he was already running, impatient as the rest of his species. Ver moved after him, her long strides easily matching his jogging pace, and once they had reached the edge of the crater, they both peered in.

And to her surprise, she saw nothing but smoke. As Jerrod was excitedly babbling, she looked up, and then around, searching for signs of movement. There were some woods not too far away, but there would have been some sort of trace that someone had gone into them, this didn't make any sense...

Wait. She heard something. Ver frowned, focusing on her audials rather than her optics.

"Is that her?"

"She matches the vidfiles, but who's that with her?"

"Does it matter? We came here for a reason, we found that reason, let's hurry up an-YIKES!"

In a matter of astroseconds, Ver activated a set of long-ignored subroutines. She whirled around, holding up one of her arms, upon which was a cannon which, up to now, she had never used on another living being.

Admittidly, her target was just to the side of the voices, but there were cries of surprise, and Jerrod's own. Ver's face was grim as the air suddenly rippled, a hologram dropping to reveal the three sources of the exhaust trail. One was red and blue, another, brown and white. Both of them seemed to be grounders, as the nickname went. The third was a bright pink, and and slightly taller. Not only that, but there were four wings on their back, leaving little doubt to the aerial capabilities of the mech.

Ver brought up her other arm-cannon, narrowing her optics as she shifted her position to cover Jerrod. "I don't know who you are, but I think you should leave," she said, voice slow and even.

The red and blue one held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Er, I'm sorry, we mean you no h-"

"You just shot at us!" The flyer put their - her, going by chassis and voice - hands on her hips and jutted out her chin. The last one remained silent, face clouded with suspicion.

"Feywing, let me handle this~," the one who had spoke before half sing-songed.

"No way! Look at her, she's hostile!'

"Well, maybe we just scared he-"

"Both of you, stop," Ver snapped with an authority that was strange, but somehow easy to her. The arguing mechs blinked at her. "One at a time, designations."

"Oh! Coldfire, ma'am."

"Unit Feywing!" Her wings flexed proudly.

There was a stretch of silence as those gathered waited for the last mech to speak. It took a hard elbow from Feywing to evoke a noise, and even then, he gave her a sour look before finally responding. "...Hardlight."

"Well, might as well join in," Jerrod said, stepping forwards. "I'm Jerrod Witwicky, and it's nice to meet you all." He gestured up at Ver. "This is my friend, V-"

"Veritas Prime!" the three mechs said in chorus. Jerrod blinked in surprise.

"What? No. Her name's V-"

"Jerrod?"

He looked up at her. "What?"

She looked back down at him. "...there's some things I never told you," she admitted reluctantly.

"Yeah, but - Prime? You've got to be kidding me, the Prime's the leader of your species!"

"Unless they stole the title from the real one!" Feywing growled, balling her hands into fists.

Ver couldn't help herself. "I didn't steal anything!" she said defensively. "A-"

Coldfire shook his head. "Malis stole it from you," he corrected, causing Ver's optics to flash in surprise. "We know he's the liar."

"...okay, now I'm really confused," Jerrod muttered, rubbing the back of his head. Ver herself was looking more and more uneasy, the sudden surge of authority and calmness leaving her as the others continued.

"You've got to come back to Cybertron with us!" Feywing demanded.

"'Us'?" Ver repeated, uncertain.

"There's a whole ship of us!" Coldfire pointed up at the sky for emphasis.

Hardlight turned on him with an angry hiss. "You shouldn't have SAID that what if she turns on u-"

"She's not going to," Coldfire retorted, "She's the Pri-"

"We don't know that for certain!"

"You don't know how much we need you," Feywing interjected, talking over her bickering companions. "We've looked for you everywhere,"

"'Prime', Ver? 'Veritas Prime'?"

Coldfire clenched his fists. "LOOK at her, you can just see that she's-"

Hardlight snarled. "I can see that she's got a GUN on us-"

Feywing took a step forward. "And now that we've finally found you-"

Jerrod rapped on his friend's metal leg. "Hey, you in there, Ver-"

"ENOUGH!" Ver surprised herself with her voice, throwing her hands to the side. Immediately, all went silent, and she gritted her denta...before sighing softy. "I'm sorry to tell you three that I'm not who you think I am."

"But-!"

"I'm just a simple mech who's trying to cause as little trouble as possible. I'm not..." she shook her head slowly, and started to turn. "...you should head back to Cybertron. Malis is the Prime."

This time, the silence was one of shock. Ver slowly folded herself down into her alt-mode again, and opened the door for Jerrod. But for a long moment, all he did was stare at her. Impatiently, she revved her engine.

"Are you coming?"

He frowned, then started to climb in. "You, my friend, have a lot of explaining to do."

"...not right now," she said quietly as she began to drive away, leaving the three mechs behind her.

"Soon."

"..."

"Ver! Or Veritas, whoever you are!" He raised his fist, looking ready to pound it into her seat. And honestly, she wouldn't have cared. Still, she sighed.

"I'm the same person I was when I came here, Jerrod. That's...please. Let that be enough for now."

"...fine. For now. But you're going to tell me the whole story, later."

"..."

"Promise me, Ver!"

"Okay. I promise."

She had started to head back for the spaceport, but a few curt words from Jerrod sent her towards home. When she arrived, Rina was there, the children outside with her; she gave man and mech a friendly wave before embracing the former, her husband.

"I called to see what was taking you so long, but the spaceport said you'd left to find something..."

"Yeah. We found it, alright." Jerrod returned the hug before looking up at the transforming Ver. He offered her a strained smile, which she was barely able to return. "I'll fill you in inside."

Ver could take a hint. She nodded slowly. "I'll go for a drive, then."

Though not as familiar with Ver as Jerrod, Rina knew her husband almost as well as Ver did. She knew when something was bothering him, and was quick to gather the twins to go inside. Ver watched the group of humans go, then rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"So those're humans."

She spun around, that strange subroutine firing up again as if responding to the alarm in her spark. Her cannons were warm as she pointed them at...what was his name, Hardlight?

Hardlight looked down at them, then scowled back up at her, crossing his arms across his chest stubbornly. Another one of him appeared a distance away, and she was quick to point at the new form. But...something didn't seem right. Especially when a third, no less grumpy-looking one formed not a meter before her face, and she instinctively kicked at it. She knew she hit him - it was a clean blow. But whatever she hit wasn't metal - and Hardlight didn't even flinch!

"Hardlight, quit it! She's not the bad guy!"

Immediately, all three fizzed - there was no other word for it - out, another Hardlight becoming visible a short distance away. Ver immediately trained her guns on him, not moving a milimeter as Coldfire moved out from behind him, offering her a weak smile.

"Prime, I'm sorry, he doesn't really like anyone b-"

"Stop calling me that. I told you, I'm not the Prime."

"Sure you are!" Feywing landed on the other side of Hardlight, her wings flexing as she gracefully settled. "I mean, sure you were kind of surprised to see us come for you but I saw you at the Ceremony, I saw what happened and no matter WHAT Malis tries to say he can't convince me!" She jutted out her chin again, and Ver just rubbed her face.

"Look, I don't know what happened there. I can't explain it, it was probably just a mistake..."

"You were chosen by the Matrix," the young flyer insisted, grinning as she crossed the short distance between them. Ver lowered her guns slowly, finally settling them at her side as Feywing stopped before her. "All you've gotta do is come back, tell everybody, and things will be back to normal."

Something in her tone made Ver frown, and she broke her gaze away from Feywing to look up at the other two. "Normal?" she asked. Coldfire rubbed the back of his neck, then looked from her to Hardlight and back again.

"He could probably show you better than Feywing or I could explain," he said, resting a hand on the other mech's shoulder. "He's really good with storytelling, he's got a knack..."

"Mmph," Hardlight grunted, looking away. "I still don't think this is a good idea, Coldfire..."

"She's not Malis. It's ok." He squeezed Hardlight's shoulder, and some of the tension went out of his frame with a sigh just short of exasperated.

"Alright," he said reluctantly, but Ver held up a hand.

"Not here." She looked towards Jerrod's house, then back towards the three mechs. "I'll take you somewhere else."

Coldfire and Hardlight both nodded, then activated their transformation cogs. Then Feying, and finally Ver, her limbs locking themselves into place.

Then she led them away.

"Found them..."

His voice was a song of its own, high and piping like a flute. But it was his words that caught the attention of the other flyer, commander of the Authority. Halberd quickly scanned the other's readout, then nodded, patting him on the shoulder. "Good work, Woodwind. That's definitely their signal."

"Good. We'll finish them off and be back before the deca-cyle." A larger mech swung a giant hammer over his shoulder, resting it there. His voice was more like the heavy pounding of drums. Halberd gave him a meaningful look.

"Don't underestimate them," he said curtly, before looking around at the others on the large bridge. "And remember our mission, all of you - our priority is to capture."

Mixed expressions were given back to him. Some, like the one belonging to the hammer-wielding mech, looked more scornful than anything else. Woodwind simply giggled, and turned back to his station. Some of the others seemed disinterested at best, but Halberd knew very well he'd have his hands full trying to reign them all in.

Damn you, Aqus. Why did you have to be so foolish? He moved back to the commander's chair, and sat in it slowly as to compensate for his cape-like wings. If you hadn't run off, I wouldn't -be- in this situation, trying to find you... he shook his head, Not that I can really blame you in the first place....but if you'd had a little more patience...

"Commander Halberd."

His optics shifted towards the mech who had approached. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

"Judging by the data, it won't be very long until we arrive. Would you like me to form a team?"

Halberd gave him a long, slow look. Cloudsnare's armor was stainless and pristine, as if he'd just been built. Despite that, Halberd knew the Lieutenant was a capable fighter, they'd sparred enough for Halberd to have faith in his skills...even if sometimes, Halberd doubted his self-control...

But at least he followed orders. The Commander leaned back in his seat, considering. Finally, he spoke.

"There shouldn't be much resistanceplanetside; a small group will be fine. Sweep the area for any signatures, and bring them back if you can. I'll take care of their ship," he finished, resting his hands along the armrests of the seat.

Cloudsnare nodded, then arched his brow. "Do you really think that they'll give us that much trouble?"

"They shouldn't, but there's no reason to take chances." Halberd dimmed his optics. "If all goes well, we'll bring their own ship back to Cybertron with them in the brig."

"And if not?"

His optics brightened slowly. "Then we'll bring back pieces."

One set of incoming ships was rare in itself, but at least it was expected. The second set was not, and by the time the third was leaving its trails across the sky, the colonists began to feel uneasy.

A couple brave ones decided to go out and investigate for themselves, while the others decided that the setting sun was more than enough of an excuse to start heading home. So used to quiet and monotony, there was only so much excitement they could take before it began to wear at their nerves.

It was though she was back on Cybertron itself.

Ver was standing in the middle of one of Iacon's busiest roads, with Coldfire on one side and Feywing on the other. That was to say nothing of the crowd...mechs of all shapes, sizes, and stations passed her by, and, occasionally, through. She felt them connect, but only just - a whisper of feeling against her dermal plating, and then the mech was out her side.

It was incredibly disconcerting, and she stared at the back of one that would have normally smashed her flat to the ground. Instead, he just walked straight through. Feywing noticed her reaction and grinned.

"Hardlight's good, isn't he?"

"I've never seen a technology like this," Ver murmured in response, looking up. There, the hologram shimmered and faded; the sky was Lubann's blue, rather than Cybertron's red-orange. It brought an unexpected sense of longing, and homesickness.

"Hardlight," Coldfire spoke out loud, interrupting her thoughts, "Could you show us Malis's speech before we left?"

Hardlight's voice came from somewhere to the left, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Yeah, sure. Give me a minute to resync..."

Abruptly, the scene changed. They hadn't moved, but where the holographic mechs had been walking (or, in some cases, rolling) to their locations, now they were tighty crowded against eachother. It seemed as though the whole populace of Cybertron was there, listening to a voice so striking she froze for a few moments as it spoke.

She wasn't the only one affected. Both Feywing and Coldfire stiffened, and the crowd itself was tense. They had good reason, she realized as Malis Prime spoke.

His speech was fluid, voice strong and sure of itself. But the words themselves were a siren song, lulling the Cybertronians into its sway. More than once, Ver had to shake her head, confused with the way the logic worked. The way it was working. The holographic crowd was entranced by the Prime's speech, his procolmations and promises. And yet, for all his praising, there was a darker side to his words that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

But when a pair of mechs were pulled into the front by badge-wearing Autobots, Ver suddenly realized what that was.

Malis had the populace of Cybertron under his sway to the extent where all he had to do was gesture, and they would cheer for his life...or scream for the deaths of others. He launched into denouncement of the pair as traitors of the worst kind, those who would disrupt not only the stability of Cybertron but hinder their destiny. What destiny? Ver wondered, forcing herself to look away from the scene up front and to the holographic mech beside her.

Hardlight's imagery was impeccable, down to the tiny faceseams that made up her neighbor's face. But it was their optics that caught her attention...they seemed so cold. Hollow, almost. As if there was energy running through their systems, but no Spark to personify it into a true being. She turned around, looking at the next. This one was screaming for blood, but they seemed more afraid than anything else.

Ver realized Coldfire and Feywing were watching her, but she couldn't stop herself. She walked forwards, looking from mech to mech, anxiety uncreasing with each step and every face.

Wrong, her Spark practically sang. This is all wrong.

By the time she had reached the front, Malis had finished his speech. And before her optics, the Autobots that were holding the prisoners threw them to the ground, raised their weapons...

...she fell to her knees just as the images faded, leaving her in the foothills just outside the main colony.

For a short period of time, no one spoke. Then Coldfire made a noise in his processor, meant to attract attention before speaking.

"We need you to come back with us."

"Cybertron needs you," Feywing added, prompting Ver to look over her shoulder.

She didn't rise. How could she? How could she do anything? Ver looked at her hands, slowly shaking her head. Malis was Prime, and if he had so much power in simple words, how could she possibly hope to stop him...?

A hand was laid on her shoulder, and she flinched away. "I'm sorry," Ver mumbled, "But I don't think I can help you."

"You can help by remaining still."

It was a new voice, and Ver immediately shot to her feet in alarm - or tried to - another hand was put on her other shoulder, and two mechs promptly wrestled her arms behind her back. A yelp from Hardlight caught her attention, and she looked up to see him on the ground with another mech pinning him down. Feywing screamed from off to the left, and a laser blast struck Coldfire square in the chest.

There were about six in all, and they all wore Autobot symbols.

A silver-white mech who seemed to be the leader nodded his satisfaction as he took a look around. "Good work, Autobots," he said smoothly, before his optics rested on Ver. His brow furrowed. "Funny, you weren't on the list..."

"Because she was banished before it was made," said the mech holding Hardlight down. His armor was dark black, with the barest hints of red and orange. "It is Veritas Prime."

Ver fought to calm herself as her two captors looked at one another, then at her. The leader of the mechs looked at the one who had spoken in surprise, before at her. "Are you sure, Nightfall?"

"I am certain, Cloudsnare," Nightfall responded. "Compare your files."

There was a brief pause, before a grin split Cloudsnare's face. "Well I'll be. The false Prime herself has grouped with the runaways..."

"I never claimed to be Prime," Ver said through gritted denta. "And I don't know who you're talking about." She tried not to look at Hardlight or Coldfire. Feywing was still out of sight, but she could hear weaponsfire and shouting.

Cloudsnare shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I'm sure the Commander'll be happy to bring you back to Cybertron with the others."

"I have no intentions of returning!" The two faces she was trying hardest not to look at turned slightly pained, but Ver continued. "I am simply trying to live -peacefully- on a planet far out of Cybertron's systems, an-"

"Shut her up."

An elbow went straight to her jaw, causing a sharp burst of pain. Ver's first instinct was to fight back, to resist, and it took every amount of willpower she had to squash it. Rather, she stood still as Coldfire was dragged to his feet, a pair of stasis cuffs slapped on his wrists. Hardlight's wincing was a bit harder to ignore, but there was nothing she could do for them. Nothing...

Fight.

I can't, she told herself.

They need you.

I'm not their Prime...

They need you.

All heads turned to the head at a loud crash, and all heads followed the battered form of Feywing as it landed, bounced once, then skidded, creating a long trail in the ground. A flyer laughed as he landed next to her, grinning up at Cloudsnare. "Kid actually thought she had a chance!"

Ver suddenly recognized them as one of the mechs from Hardlight's display. Specifically, one who had performed the function of executioner. And in her mind, the mechs being executed were no longer nameless, but the three Transformers who had left Cybertron in order to seek her out...

They need you, Veritas.

Her body moved of its own accord. The two mechs who were holding her arms suddenly found themselves smashed into eachother, and before they hit the ground, Veritas's arm-cannons were primed and ready. One shot went to the mech standing over Feywing - the next, to Coldfire's stasis-cuffs.

That was all she was able to do before Cloudsnare tackled her. He grinned savagely, pulling back a fist. "I was hoping you'd put up a fight," he all but purred, before slamming it straight into her face. Her vision went to static for a moment, and he pulled back to punch again. But this time, she was able to catch it, and she pulled up a foot and slammed it into his gut.

She heard another scream, but it wasn't from one of the three. She forced herself to ignore it, rolling over onto Cloudsnare as battle subroutines took over. Another punch at her face was dodged, then returned with one of its own kind - it hit the silver-white mech square in the optic, and she felt glass shatter and embed itself into her hand. A few more punches, and he stopped moving. Veritas looked up to find her next target.

The two who had held her before were starting to get up. A pair of blasts from her arms sent them back to the ground. A quick scan of the battlefield showed that the one who had put the stasis cuffs on Coldfire was down as well. Coldfire himself was wielding what looked to be a sword of some kind, split down in the middle - half of it seemed to be made of flame, the other, frost. The mech he was fighting - Nightfall, the one who had been holding down Hardlight - was using twin blades on his forearms to defend himself, but before she had really thought about it, she was already aiming - and firing.

Nightfall grunted as he was hit, stumbling once before going down on his side. Coldfire stared at him in surprise, then looked up at her, grinning fiercely. "Wow, nice!"

Veritas shook her head. "Not nice. Unless you're planning to kill them, we've got to move." She looked at Feywing pointedly, and Coldfire caught her gaze - but it was Hardlight who made it there first, seemingly appearing out of nowhere at the flyer's side.

"She's hurt. Bad."

Veritas and Coldfire quickly crossed the short distance to her. Feywing was obviously offline, though a scan showed that there was still life in her. But she needed a medic's attention, and Veritas shook her head slowly.

"I'm not sure the humans can deal with this sort of damage."

Coldfire looked up at her. "If they're friendly, it's worth a shot..."

"And if they're not?" Hardlight snapped. "They could turn us over to the Autobots! There has to be more than just that grou-"

"Staying here and arguing isn't going to do us any good," Veritas pointed out, reaching down to carefully pick up Feywing. "I'll carry her, and if nothing else, Jerrod will loan us a ship so we can get her back to yours. Do you have a medic there?" At Coldfire's slow nod, she continued. "Then there's no reason to stay around here. Let's go."

"It's a distress beacon," Checkpoint reported dutifully. Aqus rolled his optics.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not."

"We don't have the manpower to go down there and get them out of trouble!" the Battlemaster snarled. "Besides, what sort of trouble could they have possibly gotten in...to..." He trailed off as the window's view was suddenly overwhelmed by a large, and dangerous-looking ship.

Checkpoint gave him a bland look. "That kind," he pointed out mildly, before focusing his attentions back at the controls. Aqus shot him a dirty look before pushing a button, and tapping into the ship's internal comms.

"All hands on deck! We've got a Class One emergency, I repeat, Class On-"

The ship trembled as the first shots from the Authority struck it.

Jerrod could only stare at the battered form whose name was Feywing, and then at Ver. No, not Ver - Veritas Prime, he corrected himself. Something had changed in her, however slight. There was something in her face that was new, but it made all the difference...he shook his head, clearing it from his mind. "Run that past me, again?"

"We need to borrow a ship," Veritas repeated. "Feywing's too injured to travel by other means."

He put two and two together - the same means that had gotten her, and the others, here in the first place. Jerrod ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath as he thought. "Most of the ones we had have already been broken down for parts," he thought out loud. "The ones that brought us here in the first place, that is. There might be one or two left, but-"

"Anything could help us," Coldfire supplied. Jerrod gave him a long look, before nodding slowly.

"Alright. They're stored at the spaceport." Before Jerrod had finished speaking, Coldfire had already transformed; the mech rolled up before him as Veritas transformed as well. The mech that the others introduced as Hardlight glanced uneasily over his shoulder, before making sure Feywing was secured in Veritas's alt. Jerrod shook his head again, and glanced towards Coldfire in a silent query.

In response, the side door opened. Jerrod climbed inside and settled himself, letting out another slow breath once the door shut. He couldn't help it - "She's going with you, isn't she."

"We hope so," Coldfire admitted as they started off.

Jerrod glanced out the window. "I'll miss her. She's...been a good friend, to me."

"She never told you?"

"No. She never talked about her past. I stopped asking for a while, she always seemed so sad about it. What happened, anyway?"

There was a brief silence. Then Coldfire made a slight noise - it almost sounded like he was clearing his throat. "I don't know everything - I wasn't there," he began slowly. "But...when a Prime dies, the Matrix is passed on to the next. It's a big deal, we call it the Ceremony of the Unending Circuit. Malis was in line for it...he was Perdelus Prime's student. Perdelus taught him everything he knew."

"Perdelus was the Prime before him, then?"

"Yeah. Anyway, Feywing could tell you it better, but from what I know...something happened at the Ceremony. Something that had to do with the Matrix, and before anyone knew it, it'd reformatted someone in the crowd."

It wasn't a hard guess. "Veritas, right?"

"Uh-huh. And the next thing I know, they're calling Veritas a Decepticon and a traitor, and Malis has her banished from Cybertron. And then...things started to change."

His voice had taken on the same hint of sadness that Ver - Veritas - already had when the past was brought up. Jerrod decided not to pry further...but Coldfire continued.

"Malis Prime started talking of bigger things, and before you knew it, the whole planet was caught up in him. You were afraid not to be. The Autobots were taking people away who weren't, or who spoke against Malis, even people who hadn't done anything wrong! And...some people tried leaving. They weren't allowed to."

Intrigued, Jerrod leaned forwards. "He kept people from leaving?"

"He had them taken away." Coldfire shuddered. "Nobody's seen them since, but there's been rumors...spare parts, reprogramming." Jerrod winced at the thought. It wasn't so much the words Coldfire used as the context they were in. "Finally...a group was formed. We kept it a secret, because if Malis or the Autobots had found out, we'd all be taken away. So we acted like good little 'bots, followed the rules in public, lying about our true intentions all along...creating an elaborate deception to fool them into thinking we were loyalists. Soon enough, we started calling ourselves Decepticons, just like he'd called Veritas."

"There's that name again. But I thought it meant something else?"

"It did, a long time ago. During the Great War, it was the group that fought against the Autobots. They were trying to take over the galaxy." There was a wry chuckle. "The Autobots were barely able to stop them. Now it's the other way around...kind of funny."

Maybe. Jerrod could tell Coldfire was only trying to make light of the situation, but he knew that Coldfire was scared, if just a bit. Still, there were a few pieces of the puzzle missing..."That doesn't explain why you came here."

"Well, we figured that we weren't going to be able to stop Malis without help - not while he held the Matrix. So we decided to go look for the real Prime - the one who had been reformatted at the Ceremony."

He blinked. "Wait, real?"

"People saw her get reformatted - that's what happens when the Matrix chooses you. She has to be the real one."

"So...Malis wasn't, and that's how you know he's not the real Prime?"

"Well...uh. Malis was reformatted, as much as we can tell...he definitely looks different than he did before he got the Matrix."

"So how do you know Malis isn't the real one?" Jerrod pressed. Coldfire was quiet for a few moments.

"She has to be," he said finally. "If you saw Malis, you'd understand."

"Mmmm." There wasn't much he could say, other than that. This whole thing was confusing him, but one thing was certain...Veritas was going to leave. She was going off to fight this 'Malis Prime', to help the Decepticons...she didn't have a choice. She had a responsibility...like him.

A responsibility which he really, really wished he didn't have right now. He wanted to go with her - ever since she'd arrived, they'd been inseperable. Best friends. And this...this sounded like one of the adventures he'd dreamed of when he was younger, and by the Stars he wanted to go on it. But he had more to think about than just himself.

He was Presider - he had a colony to look after. He was also a husband and father - a wife and children to care for. Two young children to care for. Deep in thought, he only spoke up to give Coldfire directions.

Cloudsnare had not, despite all evidence to the contrary, offlined.

His optics were dark and one was completely shattered, his armor was dented and torn, but his procesor was nearly overclocking as it tried to reroute power systems. Finally, with a staticky screech, he sat up. Too fast - he nearly fell back over, but he managed to get his hands under him.

Then his feet.

Then his remaining optic flashed crimson.

The air shimmered next to him, and Nightfall appeared in a crouch. "I see you yet function," the Cyberninja murmured. Cloudsnare gave him a dark, angry glare, before looking at the other bodies strewn about.

"She did all this!?"

"They. Halberd," the name was spoken with only slight derision, "Will not be pleased."

"He won't have the chance to be displeased," Cloudsnare growled, kneeling next to one of his squad. Between blast wounds and blunt trauma, he seemed to be a lost cause. And that only infuriated Cloudsnare further.

All his life, he had prided himself on being able to accomplish his missions without so much as a scuff on his group, least of all himself. Now, there appeared to be more than just scuffs - not even Nightfall had escaped damage, and he was the fleetest of the bunch. Rage filled him, momentarily overriding his logic circuits. He would kill them all for this...

Nightfall's voice cut through.

"They appear to have gone this way."

Cloudsnare looked up to see the other pointing. With another shriek, he launched himself into the air, limbs and arms reshaping themselves into his alt-mode. He blasted off without even waiting for Nightfall to transform, but the other Autobot wasn't far behind him.

Together, they raced towards the human colony.

The shuttles were just large enough to accomidate the large forms of the Transformers - albeit in the cargo bay. Even after loading Feywing in, there was plenty of room, and Coldfire sat down next to her to try and jury-rig some repairs. Hardlight oversaw the fueling, leaving Veritas little to do but watch Jerrod as he started to boot up the long ill-used ship.

"I guess you were right, we did find a use for the fuel," Jerrod spoke out loud, echoing her thoughts. Veritas gave a rueful chuckle, but there was much on her mind. She had just bludgeoned someone senseless - multiple someones, no less - and the thought that she might have KILLED some of them left her fuel tank churning painfully.

She stared at her hands, and the guns attached to her arms, as if they belonged to another person. She had never used them before, at least not on a living being...and fighting? She didn't even know she knew how to fight, but the subroutines!...her optics dimmed, and she pulled her arms to her chest.

She wasn't Veritas Prime. She was Ver. This...persona, she hadn't been blind to the way she had been acting, but this wasn't her. And it scared her. Especially how natural it seemed to feel, as if a great load had been lifted off her back, as if a mask had been removed...how could it be? She wasn't a fighter, she wasn't a leader, she wasn't-

"So," Jerrod said, well aware of a struggle going on inside his friend, "You gonna write?"

Her optics opened. "Huh?"

"When you leave. You gonna write me?" He flashed her a grin - a sad one. Veritas blinked in surprise, then realization.

"Leave? I'm not..."

"Yeah, you are." Jerrod's voice had a note of finality in it, and he gave her a hard look. "These are your people, Veritas, and they've come this far to find you. You're not leaving them."

"Jerrod, this is my ho-"

"No, it's not." He crossed his arms stubbornly. "While you've made a home here and you'll always be welcome so long as I'm Presider, your home is Cybertron."

How could he say that? Veritas stared at him as he went on.

"You came here to hide from your past, and you've hidden it from me long enough. You should have told me, Ver," he added, looking just a bit hurt, and she realized how much it had hurt him that she'd kept a secret like this from him. But efore she could say anything, he went on. "Well, guess what? Your past's your present, now. And you've got a future to think of. Their future, too," he added, nodding towards the rear of the cargo ship. "You've got a duty as Prime to make sure that they end up ok."

Veritas's Spark ached. "I don't want to leave," she murmured, looking down briefly. "Jerrod..."

"Then come back and visit when this is over."

"Jerrod," she said sadly, "You have such a short life cycle..."

"Well, you'd better end it quickly, huh?"

She couldn't help it...a short 'heh' of laughter came from her vocalizer as she met his optics. "Alright...I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"And," he added with a grin, "You can tell me the full story then, too. The whole thing, right from the beginning!" His voice became more excited. "All the fights, the action, the adventure - don't leave out anything, I want to hear it all!"

He wanted more than just to hear it, Veritas realized. He wanted to live it. "Come with me, Jerrod."

Now it was his turn to blink. "Huh?"

"Come with me. Be in the story, instead of hearing me tell it to you."

He laughed at that. "I wish I could, Veritas...but..." He gestured helplessly. "I've got my own duties. I'd like to, though..." he added, growing wistful. Veritas reached forwards, touching his cheek with her finger. Their eyes and optics met.

"Please," she urged.

Before Jerrod could respond, Hardlight spoke up. "We're ready," he said, removing the fueling line. Jerrod blinked, then shook his head slowly, pulling away from Veritas's finger.

"I'll pilot you up to the ship," Jerrod announced, settling himself in the cockpit. Veritas sighed to herself, pulling back her hand as she followed Hardlight into the cargo bay. Once she entered, the loading door slid shut, blocking the outside lights - and the only ones to illuminate the bay were the ones emitted by the other Transformers within...external lights, and optics.

She was surprised to see Feywing's green ones back online. Dim, but online. She looked to Coldfire, and he nodded slowly. "She woke up not long after I started working. If we can get her to Suture, I think she'll be alright."

"Coulda...taken 'im," Feywing offered raspily, prompting a none-too-gentle nudge from Hardlight. She winced as he started into a tirade about how careless and stupid she was, or perhaps it was from Coldfire going back to repairs. Veritas was quick to block all of it out as she leaned against the steel walls.

And not for the first time, she wondered if the day's events were all just a dream.

Her optics onlined abruptly when she heard Jerrod's voice over the ship speakers.

"Hey, Ver - Veritas, we've got a serious problem here!"

She straightened, trying to find a place to focus her attention on. "What, Jerr-AH!"

The entire ship trembled, and the Transformers inside the bay grabbed on to what they could in an effort to stay steady. Veritas could hear alarms of some sort going on in the background as the speakers crackled to life once again. "None of you told me I was heading into a battleground!" he snapped angrily.

Coldfire's optics flashed in surprised realization. "The Autobots! Primus, how stupid could I be - of COURSE they've brought a ship of their own!" He slapped himself on the forehead, grimacing.

Veritas felt somewhat out of the loop. "A ship?"

"Two, actually, bu-"

"How do you think they got here?" Hardlight snapped, before slamming his fist into the wall behind him. "That's it! They'll see us, they'll shoot us, we'll all be dead!" He seemed more angry than scared...but that wasn't saying much, with the way both were so in force. Veritas shook her head at him, before speaking out loud.

"Jerrod - have they seen us?"

"I'm being hailed by someone, that's for sure. Prepare to be boarded, don't move unless you want to be fired upon, all that jazz." He didn't sound happy. "Veritas, if these guys are as bad as Coldfire's said...we're completely defenseless. And there's no telling what they'll do to you..."

He was right. Veritas looked at Coldfire, then up at the ceiling again, her processor racing. "Jerrod," she began slowly, a plan forming in her mind, "Can you seal off bay?"

"Huh?"

"Is there an airlock you can activate, or something?"

"I think so."

"Do it. Coldfire, can I borrow your sword?" The mech blinked at her, but Jerrod was the one who spokek first.

"Please tell me you're not going to cut open my ship."

"You're the one who said we were defenseless."

"And you hanging outside this thing isn't going to make much of a difference." He was getting upset. "Ver, do you even know how to fight?"

"Sure...she...can." All optics in the bay looked down at Feywing as she fought to push herself up, and Coldfire was quick to get an arm under her.

"Hey, hey, don't try to m-"

She pushed him away, looking straight at Veritas. "Saw you...there." Veritas furrowed her brow, a sudden uneasiness washing over her as Feywing struggled to continue. Her vocalizer was full of static and she looked like it hurt to stay online, much less talk, but still she continued. "Took on...all those 'Bots. Even...the glitch that..." She coughed painfully, a black glob of mechfluid flying from her mouth.

It hit Veritas square in the chest. She looked down, staring at it. When she looked back up, Coldfire's hand was there, holding his sword.

"Here."

She took it, noting its unfamiliar weight in her hand. She'd noticed its special make before, but up close, it was even more evident. Flames licked up half its edge, while the other, completely unaffected by the heat, was taken up by a jagged piece of ice. A razor-sharp piece of ice, she discovered, testing it against her finger and being rewarded by a sharp pinprick of pain. Her blue optics looked up from the blade to the three mechs before her.

"Alright...here's my plan."

Jerrod was worried, and that was an understatement.

When they left the atmosphere, he'd been greeted to a sight unlike any he'd ever seen - two ships, one half again as large as the other, locked in battle. The smaller one seemed to be struggling to keep its shields online, much less fire back, and the larger was just pounding on it. Then he'd gotten a message through the onboard radio - one that demanded he cut all power, and prepare for a boarding.

Someone was already certain of their victory...and it wasn't hard to guess which someone it was.

Veritas with her plan just made him even more nervous, but for lack of a better idea (other than turning around and landing, but he had no doubts that the Autobots would make good on their threat to fire before he was able to get back in atmosphere), he went along with it. He tried to ignore the system alarms as they reported that the hull was being breached, and instead just followed through with his part of the plan - putting on one of the emergency suits. The Transformers may have been able to function without air or pressure just fine, but he couldn't.

Does she really know what she's doing? he asked nobody, gazing at his reflection in the helmet. Stars, he hoped so...there was the selfish fact that he wanted to get back to the colony safely (and that, he realized, was getting less and less likely with every second), but the thought of her, or any of the other three dying...he clenched his jaw, and donned the helmet.

Just gotta have a little faith, Jerrod. Everything'll turn out fine...oh, who am I kidding?

He secured the final latch, and let the suit pressurize itself. He'd no sooner drawn in a breath of air and turned back to the control panel when he nearly had a heart attack - there was a face blocking the window.

A familiar face, but still, it had surprised him. Jerrod gave Veritas a halfhearted thumbs-up as he pulled himself to his feet, and she nodded once before looking forwards. He followed her gaze back to the battlefield, wondering where she planned to go from here.

Idealy, they'd use the cargo ship as a means to get closer to the Decepticon's ship - Volition, Coldfire had called it. Jerrod would make his way to the ship's escape craft, and use the far more managable vessel to get back to the planet. They were relying on its small size to let him fly unnoticed; he could easily pass off as a piece of debris.

Nothing was said about what Veritas and the others would do once they were aboard the Volition - just that they would 'help'. Jerrod couldn't help the sinking feeling that their help wouldn't be nearly enough to save them...their only option was to run. They had to have some sort of drive system that could give them an edge, something, anything...

Veritas pushed off first, followed by Hardlight, and then Coldfire. The last was holding Feywing, who was looking a bit better than she had when she was first loaded on...she wasn't sparking anymore, Jerrod noticed. He adjusted the autopilot, then, with a determined set of his jaw, stepped out of the cockpit.

Then the corridor exploded in his face.

/"JERROD!"/

In the vaccuum of space, Veritas's voice would have gone unheard - were it not for the fact that she and the other Transformers had switched to comms. Coldfire and Hardlight spun around, immediately spotting the source of Veritas's distress.

The Authority wasn't just focusing on the Volition anymore - it was firing on the cargo ship, tearing it up before starting on the Transformers themselves. A shot narrowly missed the trio, and with a fleeting look at the other two, Veritas launched herself towards the rubble of the cargo ship. Coldfire made a grab for her, but missed, and Hardlight grabbed onto his arm as more shots fired down upon them.

/"Leave her!"/ he commed, optics flashing. /"We need to get cover, or we're goners!"/

Coldfire thrust his armload into Hardlight's arms. /"Get Feywing to the ship - I'm not leaving the Prime by herself!"/

/"Coldfire, she's no-"/

/"Go, Hardlight!"/

Hardlight stared at him, then down at Feywing. Then he tightened his grip on the now-struggling form. /"You BETTER not get yourself killed, Coldfire! You hear me!?"/ His face took on a pained aspect at the thought, softening the otherwise harsh order. Coldfire's response was cut off by another shot, and then another forced them apart. With a thumbs-up, he threw himself backwards, then spun around to chase after Veritas.

/"Hardlight, LET ME UP!"/ The pink mech struggled in his arms, fighting to break free. In her weakened state, it was a futile effort, but she fought nonetheless. /"You're the one gonna get killed if you don't start moving!"/

He glared down at Feywing. /"Why don't YOU do it, then?"/ he snapped venomously...before practically dropping her in surprise as her thrusters fired.

/"With pleasure!"/

He barely managed to keep a grip on her. Feywing's thrusters were about the only part of her that had been relatively undamaged, but as she lead the two of them towards the ship, Hardlight desperately wished that they had been. Or that he'd stayed behind with Coldfire.

This could have been planned better.

The Authority seemed to find her and Coldfire more appealing targets than the other two, and focused its extra guns on them. The only mercy was that they were so small, it was difficult for the Autobot ship to be accurate.

But with enough shots, accuracy could be ignored for the simple fact that sooner or later, there was going to be a hit. Veritas just prayed to Primus it wasn't Jerrod who was struck...as it was, she could just see him. Mercifully, his suit seemed intact, and she was just within scanning range to tell he was still alive...but he wouldn't be, for long. Not in this barrage.

She kicked off a piece of debris, and grabbed another to use as a shield. She was too slow, blast it! At this rate, Jerrod was going to reach atmosphere before she could reach him. Impatiently, she pointed her arm-cannon behind her, and fired a blast.

It worked better than she expected - the shot gave her a huge amount of thrust. Emboldened, she shot again, and realized a flaw with her plan. While she was moving faster, it was now a lot harder to control her direction. Veritas quickly calculated her trajectory, and tried firing another to compensate.

It didn't work half as well as she'd hoped. But that could also have been attributed to the fact that a shot hit her 'shield' square on, all but destroying it and sending her into an out of control spiral. For a panicky moment, Veritas thought that she was going to be the one to hit atmosphere.

Coldfire caught her shoulder just as she felt the heat. He fired his internal thrusters in a long burn, killing their momentum as shots continued to fire around them. Their optics met, and Veritas gave him a wordness nod of thanks before looking about to see where Jerrod had flown...

She spun around at a tap on her shoulder to see Coldfire's triumphant grin, and her human friend's form cradled in his left arm.

Aqus met them at the airlock. Without hesitating, he caught Feywing's outstretched arm and pulled the both of them inside. The two Transformers collapsed on the floor in a heap, but weren't given a second's rest before the Battlemaster was looming over them both.

"Where's Coldfire!?"

Feywing raised her head, then let it fall back on Hardlight - who quickly started to shove her off. "He went back to help th-hey, watch it!-to help the Prime!"

Prime. Aqus couldn't believe they'd found her. He reached down and pulled Hardlight up by one of his projectors, evoking a yelp from the startled mech. "You found her!?" Hardlight's hands grabbed onto his wrists, trying to force him to let go. Aqus only tightened his grip in response, bringing their faces together. "ANSWER ME, SPARKLING!" he roared.

There were few who could face the fury of a Battlemaster without cowering, and Hardlight was not one of them. He immediately stopped struggling. "Y-yes! We found her, or at least someone who matches the vidfiles, and she went to go save her friend and they're both gon-"

In no mood to listen to Hardlight's babble, Aqus promptly dropped him back on the ground. He eyed both of them critically, noting the shoddy (if servicable) repairs on Feywing. But there was no time to send her to the repair bay for attention. "Both of you, report to the bridge," he ordered, before turning around and activating his scanners. He briefly noted that the shields were starting to fail...they'd have to turn tail and run, very soon, or risk the entire ship being destroyed. The assault from the Authority was just too much, even with Checkpoint's modific-

There. Two signatures, one familiar, one not. Aqus crouched, preparing to leap out there and get them both himself, but he paused when he felt a hand on his leg. Looking down, he saw Hardlight.

"What is it?" he barked.

Hardlight pulled his hand back with a cringe, then straightened, looking him straight in the optics. There was a silent plead to them. "Just...get Coldfire, alright? He's..."

Aqus turned around, his curt voice interrupting Hardlight's entreaty. "No promises, Sparkling. Now, get moving."

With that, he leapt out into the barren ocean of space.

Luck was on the side of the Decepticons, Halberd mused to himself as he watched the battle unfold. But luck didn't win half as many enconters as tactics and skill; while the Voliation's shields were holding, they could only be doing so by all ship power being diverted to them. The engines and weapon systems had to be at null. Everything had to be at null, or at least everything that could be used for the Decepticons to gain any advantage. He considered this for a few moments, attention momentarily drifting to the other targets, the smaller Decepticons that had come from the planet - Cloudsnare must have gotten sloppy, and the others were crowing over how close they could come to hitting the mechs without actually striking them...

Suddenly, he felt his Spark skip a pulse.

Aqus.

The other Battlemaster was there, shooting through space as naturally as any flyer. He was heading straight for the adrift mechs, no doubt to help them...

But why? Halberd asked himself, staring. Why would Aqus risk his life to help them? He's no fool, he must know how easily he could become a casualty. He took another look at the mechs there, frowning. They had just caught sight of Aqus, and were trying to meet up with him...

This time, his Spark burned.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!"

As one, the bridge of the Authority froze, then all heads turned towards the Battlemaster. Halberd's wings flared, his optics at full intensity as pieces fell into place. Why the Decepticons had grouped together. Why they had stopped at this out of the way planet. Why they were risking so much.

For Her.

The False. The Traitor. The Imposter. This had to be stopped, here and now. "PENANCE! COLLATERAL!" Two mechs practically leapt to their feet in response to his shout, and he grimly noted how shouting got things done just fine, with this lot, but when he tried to be nice..."You two, with me."

The two looked at eachother, before Collateral rubbed her neck awkwardly. "Uh, sir?"

"No more games! We finish this ourselves - the rest of you, focus only on the Decepticon ship!" He spun around without waiting for confirmations, already moving for the nearest airlock. Two sets of footsteps pounded behind him.

So this was the Prime. She doesn't look like much, Aqus noted critically, before Coldfire drew his attention to the Autobot ship.

/"Sir, they've stopped firing...we can get back to the ship, now!"/

/"What are we waiting for, then?"/ Veritas asked, starting to move. Aqus rolled his optics at her impatience. Doesn't seem like much, either, he added to himself, before a bit of movement caught his attention. Not Veritas or Coldfire's; no, this came from the Authority, movement where there should have been none.

From the airlock.

Pit below me... He didn't bother with a warning to the others - he threw his hands before him, linking them together into a double blaster. It fired with a noise like a howl, a golden stream of energy streaking towards the Autobots. Were it not for his compensation with internal thrusters, he would have been hurled backwards, but as it was he slammed into Coldfire's chassis. Coldfire spun around in surprise, as did Veritas, and Aqus snarled at them in response. /"Get MOVING!"/

He was too far away to hit his targets - they scattered, then continued forwards, becoming more distinct as they closed. Coldfire clapped his hands together, forming his sword as he looked at the Battlemaster. /"I don't think we can make it to the ship before they reach us...!"/

/"What do we do, then?"/ The Prime shifted the human in her arms. Aqus had meant to ask, but only once they were safe - and here, with the Autobots closing in, they were far from safe. He split his hands apart, baring his teeth at her in a savage snarl.

/"Fight or die. Personally, I'm sick of running."/

She stiffened at his sarcasm, much to his pleasure...and disappointment. She was young, untested, far from Perdelus's grade...or even Malis's. Was this faintspark really the reason so much had happened...?

Before he could continue his train of thought, violet energy flew in front of his face. Aqus spun backwards, coming face to face with a familiar set of optics...and he narrowed his own.

/"Halberd."/

The other Battlemaster pulled back his pike-axe. /"Aqus."/ He blocked Aqus's punch with its haft, then spun it around to strike the other in the head. Aqus brought up his arm for a block of his own, snarling at Halberd hatefully.

/"Come to finish Malis's job for him, huh?"/

Halberd's expression was impassive as he retracted his weapon, spun it around once more, then gripped it with both hands. /"I have my orders. And you had yours. You shouldn't have left,"/ he added, optics flickering with imperceptible emotion.

For the fleetest of moments, Aqus felt something in his Spark respond. But it passed as he barked out a laugh. /"Your orders? Why don't you tell that to Zircon!"/ His comm-voice dissolved into a scream of fury as he threw himself upon the green mech, hurling punches left and right.

The other two Autobots, however, were faring far worse.

Coldfire found that his sword was barely making cuts in Collateral's thick armor; the Autobot was laughing at his efforts.

/"C'mon, cutie, you gotta try harder than that!"/

She reached up, grabbing Coldfire by his foot. He flailed uselessly as she pulled him off her back, then threw him forwards. By the time he had spun around to face her, she had raised her primary cannon, and was aiming it straight at him.

Uh oh, he thought.

Veritas found it just hard enough to keep Jerrod protected against Penance's assault. She held him tucked against her body, shielding him with one arm while using her other to try and fend off the Autobot. Nothing stopped him, not words, not her fist, not her cannon - all he did was swipe, dodge, move, swipe, dodge, move.

It was his optics that scared her the most, though - moreso than her fear for Jerrod. They looked like the ones on the mechs Hardlight had shown her, the lifeless lights without Spark or soul. She struggled to fend him off, all the while trying to focus on Jerrod, Coldfire (whose scream reverberated in her audios), Aqus, and the ships all at the same time. If they could just get to the Volition, maybe they could find safe haven...

"They're not gonna make it!"

The group of Decepticons watched the fight through the great window of the bridge. Hardlight shook his head, slumping down in his seat, muttering something about false hopes. Back in the corner, Feywing struggled against Suture's curt orders and the medic's attempts to doctor her wounds, insisting that she wasn't as badly damaged as it seemed. Gauge swore loudly as he tried to repair some of the damage that the Voliation had taken before Checkpoint had rediverted power to shields. In fact, everything that could be was powered off in an attempt to give that last volt of power to the shields that would mean the difference between life on death for those on board.

It wouldn't hold up much longer, Checkpoint noted silently. His fingers danced across holoscreens and input keys, monitoring energy levels. And, come to think of it, neither would those outside - the Autobots had sent out a small squad to capture them, and by the looks of things, only Aqus was holding his own. Coldfire seemed to be little more than a fly to his opponant, and Veritas, as files called her...

Their choices were simple. Surrender, as the Authority had demanded more than once, and let the rebellion against Malis Prime end then and there. Continue fighting, and let them all be killed - and the rebellion would still end.

Alternatively, come up with a plan that he normally wouldn't have even considered, but there was little to lose.

"Cruiser?"

The only other mech who looked undisturbed by the sitation looked up. No, it wasn't that he was undisturbed - he simply looked so calm as to be resigned to his fate. "Yo."

"Come take a look at this."

The visored mech stood, and quicky moved behind Checkpoint. "Find something?"

"I think so. Here, in the engine-" Checkpoint raised a finger to point, "those panels right here. They're part of the energy stabilizing system, and I believe we can overclock them."

"And that's a good thing?" Cruiser asked, looking down curiously.

Checkpoint turned to look up at the other. "Well, normally it wouldn't be - it's risky, to say the least, and could easily melt down. But," he continued, "It could also give us enough of a boost to power up our weapon systems."

Cruiser's visor flashed in immediate understanding. "Which we could use to get our guys out of the smelting pool. Good thinking, Checkers."

The Communications Officer accepted the nickname without comment. "Can you follow my instructions over comm?"

"Not a problem." Cruiser smiled, making a thumbs-up gesture. In a fluid motion, he took a leap towards the door and was rolling through it. Literally rolling; the pair of wheels that made up his feet allowed him to skate on the smooth floors of the ship, even as said floors trembled from the Autobot's onslaught. The shields were holding, but just barely.

/"The primary access door should be unlocked,"/ Checkpoint informed him. /"From there, you'll need to locate the regulation system. It's on the left."/

/"Regulation system on the left, got it."/

/"It's designed so that you can interface directly with it; link yourself in, and from there, things get a little tricky..."/

Coldfire was down.

Veritas had managed to get to him after the Autobot tank had struck him with a final shot from her cannon, and was now struggling to fend off both her and Penance. Her actions were running off pure subroutine, battle systems she didn't even knew she had activating and coalescing with one another in an attempt to give her an edge in this battle.

It wasn't working.

Jerrod remained shielded by her own body as she fought with one cannon and fist. But even if she was able to fight with both, it would have been a losing battle. Her Spark felt itself sinking with despair as she tried dodging one of Collateral's shots, only to throw herself straight into the path of one of Penance's kicks. Sparks flew from her side as she was struck, and she forced herself to spin around and fire off a blast just in time to catch Penance in the arm. He grunted, then moved out of the way of another one of Collateral's shots.

(From what Veritas could tell, Collateral didn't even seem to care that he was there in the first place. The maniac grin on the Autobot's face spoke for itself.)

Veritas threw her arm over her face and turned her side on the blast, protecting her charge even as her armor seared from the heat. Some part of her demanded she release Jerrod, leave him be and do everything she could to save herself. That part was warring with another that urged her to go back to Coldfire, to drag him back to the Volition no matter what the cost to herself. The wounded Decepticon was floating alone, presumably unconscious, and Veritas prayed to Primus that his Spark still pulsed...

Her own fluttered as she looked up to see Penance next to Collateral, with the latter's cannon glowing red as it charged. This is it, she realized, barely hearing the comm-voices that shrieked in fury.

/"I said CAPTURE, not kill, you fools!"/

/"Move it, scrapsteel!"/

I'm going to die.

A surge of energy flew past her optics - but not from Collateral. Veritas blinked, then turned around, looking up to see where it had come from. Her surprise only intensified as she identified the source - the Volition itself!

Momentarily stunned, she missed Aqus pushing off from Halberd, and unerringly heading for Coldfire as the Autobots pulled back in confusion. The Battlemaster caught hold of Coldfire, then moved again, this time for Veritas.

/"Will you get MOVING!"/ he practically screeched. /"Whatever they've done, they won't be able to keep it up forever!"/

It was enough to pull her out of her shock. Without a second glance, Veritas made a desperate surge for the ship. Through the sudden volley of fire, Halberd saw her go, and looked up towards the Volition as he flew further back.

Impossible! There shouldn't be any energy to power those systems, not with the assault they've taken! He looked down at Penance and Collateral, who were floundering about as they tried to dodge the shots. Or at least just Penance - Collateral seemed to find it more interesting to try and shoot the bolts before they struck her! Halberd shook his head, processor racing. Their cores don't have the capability, unless they changed their output...but why wouldn't they have done that before!?

/"Commander Halberd!"/ A voice from one of those still on the Authority. /"Scanners report that the Volition is preparing a Transwarp sequence!"/

Impossible. The Battlemaster stared ahead at the small figures disappearing into the Volition, gripping the haft of his weapon in frustration. /"Full ship power to weapons - break through their shields, come Pit or Primus!"/

The weaponsfire from the Decepticons stopped, and Halberd realized why an astrosecond before the surface of the ship began to shimmer. The Authority's salvo intensified, but he knew that it was too late to stop the inevitable. He could only watch as the Volition became so bright that his optics were unable to make out anything but it's light - and then the light became a shockwave, slamming into him and the other Autobots.

Having expected exactly that, Halberd had already crossed his arms in front of his face to protect himself. The spin he was thrown into, he countered by firing his thrusters and flaring his wings to adjust the trajectory. The other two Autobots weren't so lucky, but their cries for help went ignored as he lowered his arms and gazed at the empty space where the Volition had been only a few moments ago.

A static-filled comm caught his attention. /"-der -brd."/

Halberd dimmed his optics to calm the rage that threatened to boil over. /"Lieutenant Cloudsnare. Report."/

There was a moment of silence. Then, Cloudsnare spoke again. /"We...lost the units, I am ashamed to admit. They slipped free from our grasp."/

/"Hn."/ Shaking his head, Halberd started to shrug the haft of his weapon back into his armor. He froze at the next set of words.

/"However, we did take care of the natives."/

/"...natives?"/

/"A settlement of humans. Well,"/ Cloudsnare added, sounding pleased with himself. /"Former settlement."/

The rage returned. /"Cloudsnare, why exactly did you feel the need to assault a settlement of humans!? We have an alliance with their republic, you FOOL!"/ His voice grew to a roar at the final word.

Though Cloudsnare wasn't there physically, his cower was audiable in his voice. At least, at the start. /"They assisted the criminals!"/ he insisted before his voice took on an indignant tone. /"Commander, they've been harboring Veritas Prime for years! She's here, on the planet - and what's more, she took out most of my squad!"/

Halberd's Spark froze. /"...she what?"/

/"Gangrene's going to have a field day with the repair jobs - Nightfall and I are the only ones even able to function! And what's more..."/

The Battlemaster let Cloudsnare rant, looking down to the planet, and then back up to where the Volition had been. His processor brought up recent memory files, specifically the ones from the battle he had just fought. He had been mostly occupied with fending off Aqus, but he had caught a glimpse of Veritas Prime in action...

...and she had taken out Coldfire's squad?

Impossible...

The floor was cold. Cold and soothing to overheated systems, it offered a numbing sensation against the haze of pain that came from her wounds. A diagnostic showed that she had numerous armor breaches, tears to internal wiring, some melted circuits...

"COLDFIRE!"

Hardlight's voice. She looked up blearily as the brown and white mech crouched next to his friend, rolling him onto his back.

"I TOLD you you weren't allowed to get yourself killed you better not break your promise SUTURE!" He looked up frantically, and was then pushed aside by another mech.

"Give me some space, Hardlight. Let me take a look at him..." Her voice was authoritive, but it still had an underlying gentleness to it. The voice of someone who knew what they were doing, and expected others to follow their orders. The dark red mech looked at Veritas briefly, nodding once before looking back down at Coldfire. "His Spark is still strong - he's got a chance. Let's get him and the Prime to the medical bay."

A pair of strong arms grabbed her shoulders, hefting her up. Aqus. "Get her repaired as fast as you can," he growled, "She needs a lot of wor-"

"Jerrod!"

The Decepticons paused as the human slipped from her grasp, landing on the floor with a groan. Veritas, along with the others, could only stare as Jerrod shook his head dizzily, reaching up to his helmet.

"...'nyone get the number of the hauler that hit me...?"

Weak with relief, Veritas Prime slumped in Aqus's grasp. Her optics flickered once, then went dark as her processor shut down from data overload, and system damage.