The red pain of Unicron’s torture…
The blue light of hope in Galvatron’s hand…
“My Master, with this I shall make you my slave.”
Red pain… The Master, transforming from planet to Titan.
“It seems negotiations have failed,” Scourge observed.
Shockwave, over the radio: We’re under attack! Scramble!
Blue light… The Master, screaming, tearing at himself.
Pain… Fear…
And nothing. For the first time in hours, Cyclonus realised he was aware and alive. He did not know how long and how far he had fled, but he was not alone. An entire fleet of familiar blue spacecraft was fleeing alongside him.
Scourge? He called over the com-link to the leader of the Sweeps. Where are we? Where are we going?
Away! He could hear his own bewildered fear in Scourge’s voice.
We will perish if we do not find fuel, he reminded his comrade, grounding himself in that mundane need.
Scourge slowed. Scan for signs of activity, he ordered. Where there is movement, we will find energy.
It took them less than an hour to track down a luckless mining expedition an asteroid. In plundering the ship, they passed on their fate to its organic crew. Now they were the ones doomed to perish.
“What happened?” Scourge asked Cyclonus, now they had the luxury of time.
The memories threatened to drown Cyclonus again. Red pain. Blue light. He thrust it all away. “Unicron is dead.” There was a defiance in saying the words. “We are free.”
“But if Cybertron and Galvatron also perished…?”
Cyclonus stared out to the stars. “We did nothing to help them. Galvatron took the Matrix to Unicron, and we hung back. Unicron and the Decepticons fought over Cybertron, and we watched.”
Scourge refuted any idea of cowardice. “Unicron would only have tortured us if we had interfered. But now we are free of him. We are free of all of them!”
“By the grace of fortune, we are free,” Cyclonus agreed quietly. He glanced behind them to where the Sweeps silently watched the two stronger personalities, waiting for guidance. “Free and lost… Babes adrift in space with no understanding of our existence.”
Unlike Galvatron, Cyclonus and the others retained no memories of their bodies’ former lives. Whoever had previously inhabited their exo-structures had been overwritten when Unicron created minions for Galvatron. Up until this point, Cyclonus’ brief life had been filled by orders; failure to execute them had been met with agony.
Thinking for himself was a habit Cyclonus looked forward to acquiring.
“We know Earth,” Scourge said suddenly. “We have that data.”
It was true. They might not have the memories, but the Decepticon datatracks were still in their systems, and they had experienced Autobot City firsthand.
“We destroyed Autobot City.” Scourge was following the same train of thought. “Earth’s forces are no match for us.”
“The Dinobots were a match for us,” a Sweep murmured nervously. They had lost one of their number in the flames spewed by the Autobot beasts.
“The Dinobots left Earth to battle Unicron,” Scourge snapped. “Perhaps He avenged our comrade. In any case, we chased those fools from Autobot City when we had only four of you. Now you number seven!” Unicron had not granted them memories, but he had recycled the Insecticons’ cloning abilities into the Sweeps—and improved it. When they had lost one in their first battle, they had cloned four more fully independent (if weak-minded) soldiers.
Cyclonus had lost a doppelganger of his own in that first battle; however, he had deflected Galvatron’s suggestion of replacing it. Looking at the Sweeps now, seeking safety in their herd, he did not regret his decision.
“We had a ship when we attacked Earth,” another Sweep pointed out. They had left their mothership on Cybertron, and the Decepticons had taken it to destruction at the hands of Unicron. “We were more powerful then… We had power from Unicron.”
“Freedom is greater than power,” Cyclonus retorted. He knew the words were meaningless, yet they drew the nearest Sweep’s gaze towards him, hopeful optics drinking in the maxim.
Scourge also liked the phrase. “Then let us use our freedom well.”
“We would not have the element of surprise if we attacked again,” Cyclonus cautioned him. “Even if the Dinobots have not returned, Earth’s defences may have learned from our last encounter and prepared for a second attack.”
“We know Earth,” Scourge repeated stubbornly, and this time a Sweep repeated his words. Cyclonus finally nodded. They had to start somewhere, after all.
In their flight from Cybertron, they had gone further from Earth, and without the benefit of their mothership, it took them over a day to reach the solar system. Finally, the blue planet was in their sights and getting larger. Cyclonus kept a wary scan for traffic, but only satellites and diminutive spacecraft were moving ahead of them.
Instead, the threat came from behind. They were close to Saturn when the ship first appeared on Cyclonus’ radar. It was large, faster than they were and heading in the same direction.
He notified Scourge, adding: Let’s find a place to observe.
Scourge agreed. The nearest moon will do.
They spread themselves across the far side of Hyperion, hiding their own mass while tracking the ship as it came into visual range.
An Autobot shuttle! But we destroyed them!
Scourge’s shock was ill-founded, Cyclonus thought. We destroyed the two that launched from Autobot City. This is another.
Perhaps it is carrying the Dinobots back to Earth. The nervous Sweep did not let go of his fears easily.
The idea made Cyclonus frown. The obvious theory was that it was from Cybertron, but that did not match his datatracks. No Autobot outposts survived that might have such a shuttle. Surely it could not have been built since the Fall of Unicron?
Out here it is alone with only its own defences. Scourge was already increasing power to his engines. We can destroy this ship as we did the others.
If we destroy it, we will not know where it came from. Observing it would give us more information… Cyclonus weighed out their options. Yet if we allow it to approach Earth, destroying it will be a more difficult fight.
He felt Scourge’s engines cool beside him. Information is what we are most lacking. Let us wait and observe, then. If it makes a return flight, we shall have another chance at destruction.
Agreed.
However, by the time the ship had passed them, it had become apparent that it was heading not for Earth but for Mars. Cyclonus had no data for Autobot operations on Mars; as far as he knew, only the human Earth Defence Command had a base there. Scourge was as baffled as he, and after some deliberation they trailed the shuttle at a safe distance, setting their own course for the moon of Phobos. For now, they would continue to observe and learn.
Nod and smile.
“As you know, at the time of Optimus Prime’s death, the Autobots were going through an unprecedented military crisis. That was why Ultra Magnus was entrusted with command of the Autobots for the duration…”
“… I then conferred leadership to Rodimus Prime, whom Optimus Prime had named as his successor.”
Gloss over his claim he had heard a dead Autobot’s voice.
“His core is connected to the Autobot Matrix of Leadership which contains the knowledge accumulated by the previous Primes.”
”—Think of it as a kind of log-book.”
Don’t mention the prophecy.
“He has had centuries of inter-galactic experience, something few other Autobots possess.”
Never mind that he had rarely broken orbit of his home-moon before he went to Earth.
“Since coming to Earth four years ago, for his military service, he has been trained by Kup who also supervised the accession of the two previous Primes.”
Kup, at least, was tickled by the role of Prime-Groomer that coincidence had ascribed to him. While Spike and Ultra Magnus were diligent in keeping to what was technically true, Rodimus suspected Kup was pulling his descriptions of historical ‘tradition’ straight out of his exhaust port. Still, he had to hand it to his trio of advisors: they had somehow created a rationale for a rookie taking leadership over seasoned veterans with years of political experience.
“His success in leading the negotiations with our new allies, the Junkions, is a testament to his abilities. May I introduce you to their leader, Wreck-Gar?”
“Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni bong!”
Rodimus Prime’s smile veered dangerously into smirk territory, and he dialled it back, nodding absently to the assembled EDC representatives. He had already given his speech, pledging his ongoing support for Earth’s Defence Command, and now the various nations’ representatives had the floor. Rodimus was all too happy to follow prior instructions and let his advisors handle their questions. In his younger days—a.k.a. last week—his dreams of glory had never included political meetings.
Vaguely, he became aware that they were being accused of harbouring a weapon of mass destruction.
“In my ten million years of experience, this is the first and only time I have seen the Matrix used as a weapon,” Kup insisted.
“You used it to destroy this Unicron.” The speaker looked shrewdly at Rodimus.
Rodimus had no idea which nation this guy represented, but he decided he would not be visiting. “I went inside Unicron, and I opened the Matrix.” Don’t mention the prophecy. “Apparently, he had said it had the power to stop him… Frankly, I didn’t have any better ideas at the time. But Spike, Kup and I were all inside Unicron while the Matrix was destroying him, and as you can see…” Ultra Magnus would not condone sarcasm. “It left us unharmed.”
“Rather than the Matrix being a weapon, it might be more accurate to say Unicron had an allergic reaction to it…” Spike was allowed to be wry.
“I regret that we cannot answer your questions more fully,” Ultra Magnus took over again. “We had no knowledge of Unicron before this week, and we are little wiser now. We can, however, rest assured that he is no longer a threat.”
The subject changed to the Decepticons where they could at least reach a consensus that any survivors should not be permitted refuge on Earth, not even within the borders of nations who had not joined the EDC. This had been the case for a few years, so Rodimus only had to confirm that the Autobots would continue to assist in the enforcement of this policy.
To his immense relief, the meeting was then concluded, and they could move onto the reception portion of the evening. It was not much of an improvement, as he was now expected to mingle with both the representatives and various officers from the base, but at least Silverbolt and Hot Spot were also present as leaders of their respective teams. Neither looked excited to be there, and Rodimus felt a bond with them, just for that.
“I hope you are not counting on me to recognise individual humans in this,” Ultra Magnus murmured next to him. Despite his lectures on the importance of establishing good relationships, the long-standing senior officer was clearly reluctant to engage with the people around him. “It has never been my strong suit… particularly when they’re all following the same dress code.”
Rodimus nodded to their left. “Well, there’s that woman Springer yelled at on our last visit. I remember her.”
A few days before the Battle at Autobot City, the Decepticons had attacked Mars resulting in a catastrophic and unnecessary loss of human life. The humans were now undertaking a tortuous procedure to establish who was at fault for that. Although Rodimus had been part of the Autobot defence team as Hot Rod (and he had very clear opinions about the human General’s mismanagement of the whole incident), Ultra Magnus had been the senior officer at the time, and it had been agreed that Rodimus Prime need not participate in the ongoing investigation. As this meant Ultra Magnus was facing another round of questioning tomorrow while Rodimus had a day off, the Prime was not going to argue.
He had pointed out one of the other human officers involved by way of irony, but Ultra Magnus took his words in earnest. “Lt Faireborn? Yes, we should take this chance to speak in a more relaxed setting.”
Rodimus doubted every word of that sentence, but Magnus was not waiting for his opinion.
For her part, the young soldier looked surprised and pleased by their approach, though she hastily schooled her features into respect as she saluted Ultra Magnus. “May I say how glad I am that you can be here this evening, Commander? I know how difficult the Autobot situation has been. My condolences for your losses.”
“I appreciate that, Lt Faireborn. It has, indeed, not been an easy week, but tonight is for new beginnings. May I introduce you to the new Autobot leader, Rodimus Prime?”
Etiquette really did kill every mood. Rodimus gravely extended his hand to lightly shake hers between his thumb and his forefinger. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant.” Was there a rule against first names? Possibly.
“It’s an honour, sir.”
She meant it, he thought, noting the starstruck face. He guessed this was probably the first role in which she had had the opportunity to interact with Autobots. He remembered how giddy he had been the first time he encountered a ‘real’ Autobot soldier from Optimus Prime’s army. Of course, that had been Kup, and the reverence had soon worn off… but it had been there at the time.
Now that he was on the receiving end of it, he was not sure how to respond; as it turned out he did not have to. A Brazilian EDC officer accosted him and took it upon himself to introduce him around the rest of the room.
The next hour was a fever dream of networking. Rodimus Prime learned that everybody had their own opinion on how to handle the Autobot-Decepticon conflict and that everybody had thought Optimus Prime had been a wonderful person but they just wanted to check if Rodimus would still be continuing this policy or that one. He received many invitations, although the only one he felt like taking up was that of the Nigerian representative who had insisted he come to Sunday dinner with his family.
Suddenly, Silverbolt appeared, offering apologies to Rodimus’ entourage, explaining he needed a word with the Autobot Leader and all but frogmarching Rodimus to one side of the room.
“What’s wrong?”
“You looked like you needed rescuing. I figured if we put on serious faces over here for a bit, you can have a break.”
Rodimus stifled a smile, still nodding. “Thanks… It’s been full on.”
Silverbolt was having trouble suppressing his own smiles. “Is that Wreck-Gar really a planetary leader?” Said dignitary was re-enacting a Bollywood dance sequence with various EDC officers of South Asian descent. Various other EDC officers of South Asian descent were looking actively horrified.
“Yeah. Believe it or not, he’s a mechanical genius. He saved Ultra Magnus’ life when Perceptor thought him dead, and his people have been leading the reconstruction on Cybertron… and they’re also massive fans of Earth TV.”
“Seriously? I can’t wait for the others to meet him.”
Rodimus Prime had always liked the Aerialbots. Although they outranked him, they were among the youngest Autobots, built only twenty years earlier, and while they had enjoyed teasing Hot Rod, they had never disapproved of his antics the way older Autobots did. “How have you been holding up here?”
“Frustrated mostly. All this stuff going on, and we couldn’t help. The guys nearly mutinied when we realised you’d gone off to Cybertron and hadn’t picked us up.”
“Yeah, we had some new Decepticons on our tail… They were not giving us that option.”
“So I heard. Air Raid and Skydive got Marissa Faireborn to agree to pilot us on one of their shuttles, but the General put the clamps on that. Marissa ended up taking us out on flight training exercises instead, which just about kept us sane, but we’re way past ready to get off this red rock and make ourselves useful.”
“One more day,” Rodimus promised him. “We’ve done my introduction, so once Magnus has done his deposition tomorrow, we can get back to the Autobots on Earth. Maybe you guys can take me out on a training exercise while we’re waiting for Magnus. In case you didn’t notice, I’ve had a few upgrades…”
“You being at optic-level with me now was a bit of a giveaway.”
“Well, I’ve not had the chance to test out my new range yet. If nothing else, I’d like to get some practice in before I accidentally blow somebody’s head off.”
“Deal, but it looks like our time’s up…”
A group of officers were heading their way with a rather frazzled looking Kup in tow. It seemed that Kup had been talking up Rodimus Prime’s piloting skills, and now they wanted his opinion on an apparently controversial protocol for navigating asteroid fields. Rodimus’ opinion was that asteroid fields were simpler than EDC functions.
On Phobos, the night was cold and tedious. Cyclonus and Scourge tracked some human craft on apparently routine exercises, but there was no further sign of the Autobots who remained within the base. They would have been tempted to leave, were it not for the fact that they had recognised Ultra Magnus among the Autobot party.
“He must have been dead,” Scourge said yet again. “We left him in fragments.”
“His head was still intact.” Cyclonus remembered the scream frozen on the Autobot’s face. “Perhaps that was enough for rebuilding… I do not know.”
“We only took the Matrix,” Scourge growled. “Next time, we shall not leave enough for him to be reassembled.”
They had not recognised the rest of the Autobots in the party—fears of Dinobots had been ill-founded—but it did not sit well with either of them that the Autobots should still have their leader when Galvatron had been lost. Galvatron had taken the Matrix in combat, he had defeated Ultra Magnus, then willingly challenged Unicron Himself. Yet Galvatron and Unicron were dead, while Ultra Magnus rested within human defences, safe and well.
“Did it happen?” Cyclonus asked. “Ultra Magnus should not be here and nor should that shuttle. Yet they are. Can our memories be trusted?” They were reaching a point where the simplest explanation was that Unicron himself had been a dream, their own lives a lie.
Scourge shuddered. “We need more information.”
Dread kept them patient, and the following morning they were rewarded when a group of Autobots emerged from the base and set out across the planet. Ultra Magnus was not among them, but one of the vehicles was almost as large, while five others were jets, as sleek as any Decepticon. These were significant opponents.
“We have the numbers advantage, and they are heading towards that mountain range.” Scourge said. “If we make our descent beyond it, we should avoid detection by the human base.”
“And then we can ambush the Autobot party,” Cyclonus agreed. “Be wary of their fliers. They match the description of the Aerialbots.”
“Superion,” Scourge snarled, picking up the reference in his own datatracks. He looked to the Sweeps behind him. “When we attack, shoot to kill.”
“But leave the last one alive…” Cyclonus cautioned. “We need one to talk.”
So we get to shoot you, right? Air Raid asked cheerfully, as he swooped above their new leader.
Actually, I’m the one with the new artillery, so I’m the one doing the shooting, Rodimus retorted with equal good humour. So long as you don’t get too annoying, I’ll calibrate on some rocks first.
But while we’re getting there, we could help you test out your new manoeuvrability!
Air Raid started in on a strafing run, and Rodimus casually accelerated as he swerved aside. Loose rocks sprayed in his wake, causing Kup to take his own evasive manoeuvres with a curse, but his wheels kept traction.
We’re still within twenty miles of the base, Air Raid! Silverbolt rebuked. No shooting!
C’mon, it was just a little light strafing…
Kup pulled alongside Rodimus with his own reproach: “You should ask more respect of them.”
“We had enough formality yesterday, Kup. Let me just have a day off, O.K.?” Being treated as a friend rather than a Prime was a welcome relief. For the first time since taking on the name, Rodimus was actually having fun.
He should have known that wouldn’t last.
What the… those aren’t EDC! Skydive called.
Decepticons incoming! Slingshot snapped, only to second-guess himself. No, wait… are they?
Aerialbots, fall in! Silverbolt ordered.
As the Aerialbots got into formation, Rodimus transformed, furiously scanning the sky, but it was a few seconds more before the incoming fleet was visible from the ground. The Aerialbots might not recognise them, but he did. Those are Galvatron’s soldiers!
Looks like you’ll get your strafing run after all, Air Raid. Let’s take them down!
Rodimus was not letting the ceasefire go that easily. Silverbolt, wait!
Hold back, Hot Rod! We’ll take care of this.
Rodimus Prime is your commanding officer, Silverbolt! Kup barked through the com-link.
There was a mortified silence until Rodimus realised he should be the one to break it.
Aerialbots, fall back and hold your fire! I want to try talking to them first. The relief he felt when they complied was embarrassing, but he needed to forget the radio conversation. The real question was if the Decepticons would listen to him…
… And he felt just as awkward trying to get their attention. He walked forward, away from the others, empty hands half-raised, his own splayed fingers in the path of his arm cannons. “Cyclonus! Scourge!” He hoped he had got the names right; he knew almost nothing else about them. “There’s no need to fight. We want to talk.”
This reception was unexpected, and Scourge banked warily, delaying their charge. It could be a trap. Our advantage is in the skies. We should keep to our original plan.
He is freely offering us that which we came for, Cyclonus replied. I will talk to him.
Better you than me.
It occurred to Cyclonus that Scourge was a coward. This Autobot might be as well. He watched Cyclonus’ approach with his shoulders straight and his face defiant, but he was posturing. Perhaps the bravado covered his fear of a stronger opponent… yet there was a strangely familiar sense of power about him.
Cyclonus stayed on his guard, transforming before he landed so he was looking down on the Autobot when their optics first met. This close, Cyclonus thought he recognised him, but he was still wary of his own memories. “Have we met before, Autobot?”
“We, uh, interacted briefly at Autobot City.” He smiled disarmingly. Humour was his tactic then.
Cyclonus favoured a more deadpan technique. “You looked smaller when you were running away.”
The Autobot’s optics flickered, conceding the strike, but his voice and posture firmed up as he answered: “I’m not running now, and you’re not firing.”
“Perhaps, but I shall not long have confidence in our relationship if you will not introduce yourself.”
Another wry flicker of the optics. “Fair point. Rodimus Prime, the new leader of the Autobots.” He extended one hand.
Cyclonus ignored it, his focus on keeping his face still while confusion coursed through him. If this was the new leader, then was Ultra Magnus dead after all? But they had seen him merely hours ago. Which was true?
Cyclonus, Scourge cut through his disorientation. He has the Matrix.
That was the sense of power that seemed so familiar. Cyclonus’ optics flared and he took an involuntary step forward. “You bear the Matrix…. How did you get it?”
It was Rodimus who was confused now, slowly withdrawing his spurned hand. “I found it within Unicron.”
“And Galvatron?”
Realisation and reluctance hit the Autobot’s face at the same time. He did not want to talk about this.
Cyclonus took another step forward, grabbing the Prime by the shoulders. “What of Galvatron?”
The young Prime proved his strength, never shifting as Cyclonus leaned his weight into him. Behind him, the smallest and oldest of his party had drawn his gun, and Cyclonus wasted no time in raising his own. “Drop your weapon, Autobot. This is not your fight.”
The old Autobot glowered back. “I’ll drop my weapon when you let go of him.”
“It’s not anybody’s fight,” Rodimus Prime added, wary optics not leaving Cyclonus’ face.
Cyclonus stared Rodimus down for a moment then released his grip. “If this is a talk, then talk.” He stepped back, the old Autobot lowered his weapon, and they waited.
“I found Galvatron with the Matrix inside Unicron.” There was something hollow in Rodimus’ voice and optics now, but he did not avoid Cyclonus’ gaze. “He… started to offer me an alliance… against Unicron. But then he started screaming—I think Unicron was controlling him somehow.”
Red pain.
“After that, he tried to kill me. So I fought back.”
“You defeated Galvatron.”
“The Matrix gave me the strength to defeat Galvatron,” Rodimus corrected.
Blue light.
“I don’t know if I killed him.” Rodimus was still talking, but Cyclonus could not tell if the Prime was looking at him or at a memory. “I… threw him, and he went through a wall and out into space. Then I opened the Matrix, and it destroyed Unicron.”
Despite himself, Cyclonus flinched, remembering the agony that had come with Unicron’s death. His reaction seemed to bring Rodimus back to the present.
“Look, I did what I had to do at the time. We all did. But Unicron’s gone now. Whatever hold he might have had on you is over. We can choose our own path.” He started to step forward, then stopped himself, trying to lock Cyclonus down with his optics alone. “It doesn’t have to be fighting.”
He was desperate for peace, Cyclonus thought. That was his vulnerability. “We killed Ultra Magnus,” he tested.
“Ultra Magnus survived your attack.”
So that was the truth of it. Had the Autobots rejected him as leader or had he stepped down?
“We’ll bear no grudge against you for that,” Rodimus promised.
“You will truly allow us to choose our own path?”
“Yes. Let this be the start of a new era…”
Cyclonus cut him off by raising his gun. “We choose to be Decepticons.”
Rodimus’ shoulders slumped, but Cyclonus allowed him to bring up his own weapons before he fired. The Autobot leapt away, evading Cyclonus’ shot, returning fire. However, his aim was poor, and he staggered on landing.
Shadows flew across Cyclonus as Scourge and the Sweeps attempted to scatter the Aerialbots. The old Autobot transformed, now a pickup truck charging at the duel. Somebody strafed the ground, the pickup swerved too quickly and spun on the loose terrain.
For now, the Prime’s allies were distracted, and Rodimus was clearly unskilled in close combat. Cyclonus pushed forward again. This time his opponent tried to rush him, seeking to use strength over skill. Cyclonus swung a punch, but the Prime’s reflexes were quick: he ducked—yet not far enough. The glancing blow across his head sent him reeling backwards, off balance.
Cyclonus caught his arm, steadying him long enough for Rodimus to look at him in surprise. The Decepticon held that look while his other hand pushed his gun up beneath the Autobot’s chestplate and fired at point blank range.
As the blue light in the Prime’s optics flickered out, Cyclonus let him fall.
Incoming from the human base, Scourge warned him.
Cyclonus leapt into his transformation, regaining the skies. Below him the old Autobot was racing to his leader’s body.
Did you kill him?
Possibly. Perhaps we should make sure of it. Cyclonus banked to aim at the ground again, but the Aerialbots were already diving past him. Scourge and the Sweeps had failed in their task: in moments a giant stood over the fallen Prime, swatting at the Decepticons.
“You’ll have to go through Superion first!”
“With pleasure,” Scourge snarled back. “We are of Unicron and you hardly measure up.”
Posturing again, Cyclonus thought, before realising: Distraction! Too late, he turned to focus on the aircraft coming from the human base. It was a heavy-bellied cargo carrier, and its ramp was lowering mid-air. Ultra Magnus came hurtling down that ramp in vehicle mode, already launching his missiles into the Decepticon fleet. Racing down to the ground behind him were several more unknown Autobots, and a helicopter—different to the one they had encountered on Junk—flew out over them before the plane closed its ramp and started firing.
Now the reinforcements were here, Superion scattered into his components again, the five Aerialbots regaining formation alongside the human plane. On the ground, Rodimus’ body was being loaded onto Ultra Magnus—it looked like one of the motorcycles was already working on him. The rest of the Autobots were providing cover fire, two of them boldly standing upon Ultra Magnus’ trailer.
We have lost our advantage, but we have our information, Cyclonus transmitted. I suggest retreat before we sustain serious injury.
We have given them a clear message, Scourge agreed. Let’s get out of here!
He arrowed away, followed by his Sweeps, but Cyclonus circled over the Autobots one last time before following. They were well-drilled, he thought. Each one had entered the fray knowing exactly what they were doing, and perhaps today that had saved their leader’s life.
When Rodimus came to, he was already aboard the cargo plane, and Hot Spot and Wreck Gar were gently lifting him down from Ultra Magnus’ trailer.
“And now we return you to your regularly scheduled programming… the best part of waking up!” the Junkion told him cheerfully, though he laid him out on the floor with diligent care.
“He’s awake,” Hot Spot reported to everybody else.
Predictably, Kup was immediately hovering over him; the surprise was Ultra Magnus transforming and joining Kup with an equally concerned expression.
“How’re you feeling, lad?”
“Rodimus, are you all right?”
Rodimus was in a lot of pain, and he was half-expecting a lecture on what he had done wrong to get to this point. “I think I broke our ceasefire.”
“Nah, that was definitely Cyclonus did that,” Kup assured him.
Ultra Magnus sighed. “It was worth a try.”
Rodimus waited, but there was no follow up so he nodded and tried to smile—it came out as a wince.
“Relax and keep still,” Hot Spot told him. “You took a nasty hit. Wreck-Gar’s not worried, but you’re in for an overhaul once we reach base.”
“Today’s grand prize is a new fuel pump valve, three compressors and an energon infusion!”
“Sounds like it’s worth playing for,” Rodimus agreed, trying to look around without moving his head. It seemed that every Autobot on Mars had come along to bail him out—and at least one human. The pilot was facing away from the hold, obscured by their seat-back, and the helmet did not help, but he made an educated guess: “Lt Faireborn?”
“Glad to be of assistance, sir!”
“It’s much appreciated.”
“We didn’t have time for the clearance needed to launch our own ship,” Ultra Magnus explained. “Lt Faireborn was able to provide us with one of the EDC cargo planes for transport.”
“I’m ninety percent sure she didn’t get the clearance for that either,” Streetwise added.
Rodimus grimaced. “I hope she doesn’t get in trouble for this.”
“Not if I can help it,” Ultra Magnus said with quiet finality. “In my deposition, I specifically mentioned her diplomatic handling of a very sensitive situation and put in a recommendation for promotion.”
There was no chance that an Autobot would have the authority for that last part, although if the EDC felt a need to appease them, Ultra Magnus’ opinions might hold more sway than they should. Rodimus looked at his second-in-command appraisingly. “Magnus, I’m beginning to think you might just have a soft spot for hotheads.”
Ultra Magnus frowned, and for a moment Rodimus thought he was going to get a lecture after all. Then the old leader met the new one’s optics, and his face relaxed. “I like people who act on their convictions.” The words were non-committal, but approval warmed them.
Rodimus filed that away to mull over later. “Is everybody else O.K.? What happened to the Decepticons?”
Kup brushed casually at a burn across his left shoulder. “No serious injuries on either side. Those Decepticons lay on their armour pretty thick, but they were flyin’ scared today—did better at dodging than aiming.”
“They seem much more disorganised without Galvatron,” Ultra Magnus agreed. “They had the opportunity for a lot of damage but not the confidence.”
“Trust me, Cyclonus had plenty of confidence.”
“Lucky for us, he was focused on you,” Kup remarked. “Lucky for you, he was less confident when the backup arrived—right after you went down. He scrammed with the rest of them.”
“Uh, we tracked their flight path, and it’s possible they were heading towards the moon of Phobos.” The rest of the Aerialbots must have been flying back under their own power, but Silverbolt had joined them in the plane’s hold, though he entered the conversation diffidently. “I suggest that we do a sweep of the moon and make sure there are no ongoing operations there… with your approval, Prime.”
If Ultra Magnus noticed the Aerialbot’s awkwardness, he paid it no heed. “I fear they may have followed us here rather than having any vested interest in the planet.”
Rodimus started to nod, winced again and mm-ed instead. “But it would be prudent to check, and you have been telling me to prioritise prudence.” For the last four years or so… “It’s a good idea, Silverbolt. Get together the numbers and the firepower with the EDC—I don’t want to take chances—and we’ll make sure any Decepticons are cleared out before we leave for Earth.”
“C’mon, Magnus, let’s radio in and get that process underway now.” As Kup turned Ultra Magnus towards the bridge, he sent a meaningful look over his shoulder, but it was at Silverbolt not Rodimus Prime.
The Aerialbot did not need Kup’s prompting, but he was not helped by Rodimus’ prone position. Eventually, Silverbolt settled for crouching on one knee, head bowed. “Rodimus Prime, I apologise for earlier. There’s no excuse… I just… forgot.”
There was also no privacy, and behind him, Autobots and Junkions were exchanging quizzical looks. Rodimus sent them what he hoped was a stern look; they took the message and shuffled to the far end of the hold. “Just take a seat, Silverbolt.” That brought the Aerialbot closer to his level and let them comfortably avoid eye contact as he studied the ceiling and Silverbolt, the far wall. He kept the rest of his words low. “I guess I’ve been waiting for that to happen… You won’t be the last. Despite Spike and Ultra Magnus’ marketing efforts, I’m not exactly covered in qualifications for this job.”
Silverbolt gave a wry snort. “Been there. Did you know Optimus Prime chose me as leader of the Aerialbots because I was afraid of heights?”
That put a new light on ‘Arise, Rodimus Prime.’ “There must be a story there.”
“There really isn’t. The point is, of all people, I know what it’s like not to be taken seriously as a leader. I should not have made that mistake today—it won’t happen again from me or any of the Aerialbots, I promise you that.”
“Thanks. Maybe next time I’ll come up with a plan that works.”
Silverbolt looked directly at him then. “You knew what you were doing today. Like Ultra Magnus said, it was a worth a try—it never even occurred to me to just talk to them, but shouldn’t that be the Autobot way?”
“You make a good point.” Rodimus looked wryly back. “So, benefit of hindsight, Aerialbot Leader: d’you think Optimus knew what he was doing in appointing you? Or do you think he was just the arbitrary type?”
“I try not to think about it.” But a beat later, Silverbolt smiled and shrugged. “I guess it worked out.”
“We will not stay long,” Cyclonus informed the rest as they regrouped on Phobos. “If the Autobots don’t track us, the humans will.”
“Then we should resume our journey to Earth and what plunder we might find there,” Scourge said, a greedy hunger in his voice.
Cyclonus struck him across the face, sending him reeling as much from the shock as the force. “You will find your death! Whether Autobot or human, any opposition more persistent than we met today will destroy us.”
Anger gripped Scourge’s face, but the torrent of Cyclonus’ words drowned any impulse to retaliate. “We have the power—”
“Galvatron had the power! What would Galvatron have made of your performance today? I saw only failure! Nine of us, with seven Autobots at our mercy—yet we brought down but one!”
The Sweeps cowered from his wrath, huddling silently behind their leader, but Scourge resisted the intimidation. “Our first charge was aborted by your decision to talk. That cost us our momentum and gave the Autobot reinforcements time to arrive!”
“Had I not talked, we would have left with nothing. At least I got the information we needed.”
“That Ultra Magnus lives and the Autobots have regained the power of the Matrix? I would rather have stayed ignorant!”
“I learned our mistakes,” Cyclonus told him. “When I look at you, I see fear and failure. When I looked at the Autobots, I saw an army. Why was it Ultra Magnus survived? Because his army came to his aid. Today, they came to their aid of this Rodimus Prime so he may return to plague us again. And us? What did we do when Galvatron faced destruction? We hesitated and then we fled. Thus we have no leader while the Autobots have two.”
Some of the Sweeps looked up in horrified acknowledgment of his words, guilt written on their faces. Scourge dropped his gaze, petulant. “How is that supposed to help us now? Galvatron is gone.”
“Gone yes… But perhaps not dead.”
Everybody looked at him then, and their attention nourished the seed of hope that he had held since talking to the Prime. “If Ultra Magnus and perhaps Rodimus Prime can return, then why not Galvatron? Is he not a greater leader than they? He may lack an army, but he has power and determination. Have faith that he will one day find his way back to us!”
The Sweeps who had felt guilt earlier were the most eager to embrace the hope he was offering. It was taking root in Cyclonus, yet in their faces it was already blooming.
“When he returns,” Cyclonus continued, inexorable. “I will not let him find me lacking. I shall have for him an army! We shall prepare to rise against the Autobots and conquer the Galaxy in his name!”
“You shall have the army, Cyclonus?” Scourge asked, defiance creeping into his voice. “You might have carried Galvatron into battle, but I am and always have been the leader of the Sweeps.”
Cyclonus rather thought he could convince most of the Sweeps to mutiny, but he did not intend for it to come to that. He would bend Scourge to his will here and now. He had few memories of his short life, but he summoned them all, banishing doubt and mercy from his face, raising his gun against Scourge.
Red pain, flaring in his optics.
“You may be the leader of the Sweeps, but you will swear allegiance to me. Hail Galvatron!”
Scourge stared at him and fell back, his voice shaking slightly as he repeated: “Hail Galvatron!”
The Sweeps took up the cry: “Hail Galvatron! Hail Galvatron! Hail Galvatron!”
Author’s Note:
I feel like I’ve gone back to my roots here. I started out in Transformers fanfic, over twenty years ago, writing origin stories for the Movie cast. I never did the Decepticons, because we literally see their creation, but when I started writing a story about Cyclonus, I realised that he was little more than an extra in the Movie. This is how he went from being a minion to the Cyclonus we see in Five Faces of Darkness. (Who is still a minion, but one with his own character and motivations.)
In other epiphanies, I’ve been going about this time period all wrong by approaching it from the perspective of the Autobots. It’s actually the Decepticons that have the story here… The Autobots’ lives are changing drastically, but they don’t have much in the way of stakes anymore. They have the upper hand, they have Cybertron… they’re mourning their dead and figuring out where things stand now, but they’re not worried about losing anything.
The Decepticons on the other hand have lost everything. The survivors can’t even take their lives for granted.
Obviously, when I started out writing this series, it was just character studies for practice, reminding myself of the world and the timeline as much as anything else. Using the Autobots’ perspective on the day after the Movie worked out very well. I didn’t have to worry too much about where anything would lead—I was just reacting to what had come immediately before and pointing them in the vague direction of civilisation, per Five Faces of Darkness.
I was drawing blanks when it came to Decepticons though, and I suspect that was because reactions weren’t enough—they needed a story, and my brain hadn’t found that gear yet. When it did, I wrote the ensemble piece of Triple Act Tragedy and deliberately threw in conversations about the missing Decepticons, trying to trigger more plot hooks for myself. (This has essentially been my entire strategy since I came back to TF-fic: “Let’s just throw random references out there and see what sticks in my brain.”)
This was the bit that did it: “Cyclonus and the rest… They were just watching the battle. When Unicron started blowing up, they went a little weird. Looked like they were in pain almost. Then they suddenly streaked off.”
In writing that, I had to think about how Cyclonus and Scourge would react to Unicron’s death, and that stuck with me. My intent when writing that line was always for them to be fleeing blindly, but I immediately wanted to explore what happened when the panic subsided.
As the canon is vague about the Unicronians, I’ve had to make some decisions about how Galvatron’s minions work. At least by saying they don’t remember their former lives, I didn’t have to worry about who was Thundercracker, Skywarp, Bombshell, etc. (At some point, I’m going to have to make a decision about whether or not some of the Insecticons are still alive, but I shall procrastinate on that.) In Velvet-verse, Galvatron keeps Megatron’s personality, because that served Unicron’s Matrix-stealing purposes; Cyclonus et al just need to provide him with extra firepower. Honestly, the less personality they have the better, as they’re supposed to be obedient.
But Cyclonus and Scourge were given enough strength of mind to be some form of sub-commanders… And this story is about how that evolves once they lose their superior officers.
I should note that going by the Movie, Unicron does not torture Scourge and Cyclonus, but I assume he would have the ability to do so and that they probably had some experience of it. Artistically speaking, it was useful as a thematic device to refer to this very recognisable aspect of the Movie as a driving force for character-development. What this is, in effect, is a cycle of abuse, where the abused become abusers because that’s what they know. Cyclonus and Scourge don’t know any other way to assert their dominance (nor any other way to relate to another individual, at this point in their lives).
Red pain and blue light originally occurred to me as a way to recap the climax of the Movie from Cyclonus’ perspective without having to spend huge chunks of words on it. (I created a line of dialogue for Scourge that wasn’t in the Movie, but otherwise, it’s lifted direct from the film.) Once I’d got that drafted out in wording I liked, I realised I could use the phrases of “Red pain” and “Blue light” as an ongoing flashback. I was halfway through writing the story before it occurred to me that those were also the optic colours of the two factions which meant I could bring them in physically as well. (At least, I was halfway through when I thought of the line ‘red pain flared in his optics’… I literally didn’t think of connecting Autobot optics with ‘blue light’ until I got to the end of Cyclonus and Rodimus’ fight.)
I found it all very serendipitous. This is one of those things where (I think!) it worked very effectively, but it’s only there because this is fanfiction and I’m springboarding off an existing creative work. That sort of visual metaphor is not a strong suit of mine, and I doubt I would ever have come up with this by myself. Thank-you, TF:TM art directors.
Seeing as Cyclonus takes an evangelical line in persuasion—certainly in Five Faces of Darkness—Red Pain and Blue Light represent the two tools of fear and hope with which he has been manipulated and which he will use to manipulate others. At the start of the story, Scourge is the more dominant of the two. He’s consulting Cyclonus, but the decisions (and most orders) come from him. Cyclonus is more cautious: he needs to build his own framework for understanding the world before he’s ready to decide his place in it.
Unexpectedly, I ended up doing more research on the Sweeps that anybody else, as I found it very awkward doing repeated dialogues between Cyclonus and Scourge with a canon but zero-dimensional audience. Never one to do things by halves, I created a database of every Sweep appearance in the cartoon in an attempt to curate some usable personalities. Yes, this was excessive.
It made me realise just how much influence Sweeps can have on the dynamic between Scourge and Cyclonus, and it let me write the Sweeps with an idea of their own personal journey in mind. For example, the Sweep who dies in Five Faces of Darkness begging Galvatron to save him is absolutely one of the Sweeps who is most susceptible to Cyclonus’ rhetoric in this story. Cyclonus creates this legend of Galvatron as the Decepticon equivalent of the Autobot Matrix. This is the hope he’s dishing out alongside the pain, and it will prove brutally ironic.
The difference between Cyclonus and Scourge is that Scourge is driven by his own desires, whereas Cyclonus needs a cause. Cyclonus is a competent enough commander, but he needs to do it in Galvatron’s name rather than for any self-glorification. Importantly here, he’s not actually planning to find Galvatron at this stage; prophesying his return is motivation enough.
I originally planned to have Cyclonus face off against Ultra Magnus, but when I rewatched The Killing Jar, I decided that episode works better if they’ve not done one-on-one combat before. So Rodimus stepped in, with Ultra Magnus being used more in his counterpart to Galvatron role and introducing the Decepticons to the idea of leaders returning from the dead. (Ironically, even though Optimus Prime is the most infamous for this act, we’re at the wrong point of the timeline to use him as a reference.)
I do have some cursory character development (or image rehabilitation) for Ultra Magnus with the new Decepticons starting to respect him as a leader among his own faction, while Rodimus starts to realise there’s more to him than the stick up his exhaust. Which is one of the reasons this is set on Mars…
Again, all the Mars set-up relates back to my old story, Soldiers in Waiting, so I had that tricky balance of providing enough exposition for this fic without getting bogged down in the details of something that’s very much a side-plot. I could have avoided this by setting the action on Earth, but having it on Mars made it easier to isolate the Autobot cast and put some focus on their human political interactions, which was something I did want to play around with (exploring plot hooks again).
Plus it gave me an excuse to check in with Marissa Faireborn who will have a monopoly on the EDC officer role in season three. This is a kind of origin story for her as well, though I don’t get into her character in any significant way. For now, she’s an overly enthusiastic soldier who’s also an Autobot fangirl (but not in the Kiss Players way!), and it never seemed appropriate to break her dialogue out of military protocol—besides, that works perfectly with Ultra Magnus developing an early respect and fondness for her. By The Killing Jar, they’re on first name terms (though in Burden Hardest to Bear, when she’s on duty, he addresses her as Captain), so they need some sort of history. (Conveniently, this also gives Wreck-Gar some acquaintance with her—not strictly needed, but he’ll be helping her out in The Killing Jar too.)
Meanwhile, Rodimus follows a loose parallel storyline to Cyclonus as he also finds his feet in a new and bewildering life. Enter Silverbolt, because I was going to have somebody forget he’s no longer Hot Rod eventually, and it occurred to me that Silverbolt has his own weird accession to leadership. In Optimus Prime’s defence, Silverbolt was far and away the most responsible of the Aerialbots, and that had to play into his leadership choice. Still, he only told Silverbolt that it was to help him get past his fear of flying, and in the early Aerialbot episodes, the others don’t always accept his authority.
Rodimus doesn’t really learn the lesson here since he is still being fairly informal with Silverbolt afterwards, but it would never have felt in character for him to start demanding formal titles and salutes… he wants to earn them, and on this day, he doesn’t believe he has.
This is the first time Rodimus has led Autobots against Decepticons, and it’s a loss though not a major one. He fails in his attempted peace-talks with Cyclonus, since he defaults to a casual, candid approach; Cyclonus, who expects displays of strength in negotiations, perceives this as weakness and immediately turns the meeting into an interrogation, putting Rodimus in the position of trying to appease him.
I’m taking some licence with Rodimus’ ineffectiveness in combat, since he managed Galvatron perfectly well at the end of the Movie. My rationale is that Galvatron was emotionally broken at that point, while Rodimus was on some kind of Matrix rush. Realistically, I can’t buy that Rodimus becomes instantly adept at combat when his limbs have grown several feet, his weight has shifted and his firepower changed up. A lot of learned skills could carry over from Hot Rod, but he’s going to need to get a feel for the new body.
Sidenote: I’ve done a fair bit of fudging on how much the different sides should know about each other. There’s no reason the Autobots would know their names, but I figure they may have heard them called in battle. For the Decepticons, I’ve made a distinction between memories and datatracks—along the same lines of how an amnesiac might still be able to read. It would make sense for Unicron to leave/import the Decepticon datatracks whereas memories are less important.
The question then is how much is on those datatracks? An exhaustive list of Autobots seems unnecessary, but subteams would be on there. Ultra Magnus was the target of their previous attacks, so they would definitely know him, but while they might have recognised the Autobots they attacked on Junk, Cyclonus only saw Hot Rod at Autobot City (attacking him during the “Stay close to me!” banter) and probably saw even less of Kup. Everybody else would be totally new to them.
And just to keep the status quo straight: At the time of this story, the Autobots on Mars are the Aerialbots and Protectobots minus First Aid (who’s on Earth), and fresh from Cybertron, Rodimus Prime, Kup, Ultra Magnus, a few Junkions, Jazz, Cliffjumper and Bumblebee. I made no attempt to name them all, and while a couple of Protectobots got dialogue, I had to limit characterisation somewhere. The Autobot scenes had too many tangents as it was.
Junkion lines: Eh. I was lazy. Standard TV announcer stuff for the most part, and I remember ‘best part of waking up’ from old Folgers coffee ads.
Yeah, this ‘note’ is way too long. Let’s leave it here.
Velvet Glove's Transformers Fanfiction 
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