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        The thrum of nuclear-powered turbines could be felt in space, even if they weren’t heard. Scourge followed closely behind Cyclonus, his Sweeps behind him dragging the carcass of the one destroyed Sweep along with them. He was little more than scrap, but he would be useful for spare parts should the need arise, and the Decepticons were not well off enough to turn down spare parts.

        In the orange-lit cockpit of Cyclonus, Galvatron sat back in the cushioned chair, staring out the windows with the hungry eyes of a conqueror. A smile played across his lips, and he tapped his fingers restlessly on Cyclonus’s control console. Cyclonus knew him well enough to know he was more than ready to return to his Decepticons, to lead them on to victory over the Autobots. And victory he would have—except that he seemed somehow changed from his experiences over the past year.

        "My lord Galvatron," Cyclonus asked, his voice coming from everywhere within his cockpit, "may I ask you a question?"

        "Of course, Cyclonus."

        "My lord, why did you destroy that Sweep? He was but one of Scourge’s mindless drones, I know, but he was an extra body, and extra firepower. . ." Cyclonus let his voice trail off to indicate the end of his question.

        Galvatron wasted no time in responding. He leaned forward in the control chair to stare into one of the speakers on Cyclonus’ command console. "Are you questioning me, Cyclonus?"

        Cyclonus didn’t answer at first. Of course he was questioning Galvatron—he wanted to know his master’s reasoning. But Galvatron made him sound as if he were behaving like Starscream—hadn’t he spent the last year of his existence hunting down Galvatron to return him to the leadership of the Decepticons?

        "My lord Galvatron, I seek only to know your mind—"

        "My mind is my own concern, Cyclonus! Mind your flying, and do what I tell you! Those are your concerns, now—nothing more!" Galvatron was almost shouting at this point, and Cyclonus had to turn down his audio receptors several notches so they wouldn’t blow out. "If I ever catch you questioning me again, Cyclonus, do not think I will suffer you as long as Megatron suffered Starscream—I will blow you off the face of this universe in an instant! Do you understand me?"

        "Of—of course, Galvatron." Cyclonus made certain to put just the right amount of fear into his voice—no more and no less. If he seemed too fearful, Galvatron would not respect him; if he wasn’t fearful enough, Galvatron would see the deception and kill him. Nevertheless, he felt the cold touch of Galvatron’s arm cannon pressed against his control panel.

        "Or perhaps I should simply blow you apart now, and spare myself any trouble in the future. What do you think of that, Cyclonus? I think that’s quite a good idea, don’t you?" Galvatron’s face hovered very close to the controls, and he was whispering now.

        "No, Galvatron, I do not believe it would be." This was said with a flat tone. Cyclonus wasn’t exactly certain what his leader was up to, but if this was a test then Galvatron would find Cyclonus was more than up to the challenge. And if he was destroyed because of it—well, the Decepticons had their leader now, and while Cyclonus saw his destruction as a waste, he knew he was no longer necessary to the Decepticon cause.

        Galvatron sat back, laughing. "Of course you don’t, Cyclonus! If you did, you would be either insane or suicidal, either way no good to me! We will go to Cybertron, and once our forces are gathered, we shall hunt down the Autobots and annihilate them!"

        "About that, Galvatron. . ." Cyclonus had to wonder at the wisdom of telling Galvatron the current state of the Decepticon people. After his burst of restrained violence, especially—Cyclonus kept seeing that lone Sweep falling, dead, his chest smoking and sparking from a single shot dealt for no reason.

        "Yes, Cyclonus?" Galvatron drew out the yes and spoke the name with clipped suddenness.

        Might as well get it over with. "The Decepticons have not fared well in your absence, my lord. Unicron’s attack upon Cybertron left our people decimated, and the Autobots were able to take advantage of that chaos and exile us from our homeworld. There are currently no Decepticons on Cybertron, Galvatron—we have been forced to scrounge out a miserable existence on the backwards world of Charr, itself little more than a burnt-out husk. We starve, Galvatron, and we have been searching for you for the past year, that you would lead us once again to victory over the Autobots."

        Galvatron listened intently, his face a thoughtful frown. This news, at least, seemed to have sobered him—that he didn’t destroy Cyclonus instantly for being the bearer of such unpleasant news gave him some hope—perhaps Galvatron’s earlier outbursts hadn’t been indicators of some logic chip malfunction. Perhaps he had been testing Cyclonus after all—it wouldn’t be surprising, given the cunning he had shown in the past. Not only would it not be surprising, Cyclonus felt it would be somewhat comforting, knowing that the Decepticons had among them a leader that was both a physical and mental juggernaut.

        "There is only one course of action, then, Cyclonus. We must immediately attack Cybertron, and drive the Autobots from our planet! How dare they exile me? They will know the true meaning of terror, when I return! I shall destroy them all, with my bare fists if I must! Faster, Cyclonus! We must get to Charr and rally my troops for the upcoming battle!"

        Cyclonus’ hopes shattered.

        "Mighty Galvatron, are you certain you wish to attack Cybertron so soon? We will have to re-energize, you yourself are perhaps still damaged—"

        "Nonsense! Galvatron will not cower in a repair bay while the Decepticons are trapped on a backwater, unable to spread their wings! We need breathing room! And we shall have it! We attack Cybertron immediately upon my return!"

        "But the energy concerns—"

        "Mean nothing! Once we retake Cybertron, we will have all the energy we need!"

        Cyclonus felt his anger levels rising, paused for a second in order to calm down. When he felt he could speak to Galvatron without shouting, he said slowly, "My lord Galvatron, I do not think this is the wisest course of action. Many of our people barely have energy enough to walk—they will not have the strength for combat. I would only request that we attack an energon freighter, or a fuel mining installation, before we make our attack on Cybertron. That way, we can make an attack at full strength."

        "Cyclonus, you are an idiot. I have been gone only a year, and the mighty Decepticon Empire lies in ruins. I depended on you and Shockwave to at least hold things together until I was able to get off that fiery rockball. I can see I misplaced that trust."

        "My lord Galvatron, I respectfully insist that you did not."

        "Then what have you done for the Decepticons, eh? From what you tell me, you led them straight to starvation!" Galvatron’s anger was rising again. Cyclonus decided that this time he would not hold his vocoder until Galvatron’s rage had passed—if he started that habit, he could tell that he would have to do it very often indeed.

        "I was able to hold them together when they would otherwise have torn each other apart for lack of having a leader. Scourge and I, and the Sweeps, were able to gather enough energon for them to live. We have searched half the galaxy looking for you, to bring order and stability to the Decepticons—"

        "And I shall, so long as you follow my orders!" Galvatron interjected, though this did not deter Cyclonus from speaking.

        "—and we have recently conquered the Quintessons, and forced them to use their scientific knowledge to discover for us a method of gaining unlimited energon!" There, Cyclonus thought proudly, that shall prove to him that I have busy this past year, and am worthy of my position.

        Indeed, Galvatron suddenly seemed calmer, more interested in what Cyclonus had to say. "What source of unlimited energon?"

        "Why, the same as that the Chaosbringer used, of course. Scourge and the Sweeps recently discovered the discarded leg of Unicron—"

        As soon as Cyclonus spoke the name, Galvatron’s eyes flashed a deep red, and he began to scream: "Unicron? Unicron! Unicron! UNICRON!" He began to thrash about in Cyclonus’ cockpit quickly, violently, slamming his fists and arms and torso and head against the confining walls around him. He screamed the name of the Planet-Killer over and over again in a psychotic frenzy as he smashed at Cyclonus’ interior, damaging the control panel in front of him, cracking the transparisteel of his windows, uprooting the command chair from its bolts, and tearing at the latches which kept the cockpit airtight.

        Cyclonus almost panicked at the sight of this, in part for himself, in part for Galvatron, and in part for the Decepticons. Galvatron was plainly berserk now, Cyclonus knew—and he feared for himself, as Galvatron was inside him, where he was completely unarmored, and one shot from Galvatron’s laser cannon would destroy him. He feared also for Galvatron, as his year-long exile had done something to his mind that had shut down his logic circuits, or at the very least severely damaged them. Why else would he go so mad over the mere mention of the name of Unicron? He feared also for the Decepticons—how well could they possibly fare under an insane leader?

        "Galvatron! Galvatron!" Cyclonus tried to snare his leader’s attention over Galvatron’s screaming, to no avail. The gray-and-purple robot continued spasming, as if in extraordinary pain, his blows against Cyclonus’ hull so hard that Cyclonus kept being knocked off course by them. Finally, Cyclonus decided he had no choice in the matter, and opened his main hatch without decompressing the cabin. Galvatron was sucked out into the cold of space, and Cyclonus transformed.

        Behind him, the Sweeps slowed to a stop, and Scourge transformed to join Cyclonus in watching Galvatron’s pained thrashing as he drifted through space. Scourge’s face was a mask of confusion, while Cyclonus stared on in wonderment and sadness.

        "What has happened to Galvatron? Did you do something to him?"

        "No, Scourge." Cyclonus shook his head slowly. "I told him of our arrangement with the Quintessons. At the first mention of the name Unicron, he threw himself into this frenzy. I was forced to eject him before he damaged me any further."

        Even in the vacuum of space, Galvatron’s screams seemed to carry to them. Cyclonus’ logic circuits went into overdrive. Galvatron was plainly unfit to rule—his destruction of a Sweep was but the first indicator of this; these fits of irrationality and rage made it undeniable. Something had to be done—Galvatron was the leader of the Decepticons, that mantle could not be taken away from him. But he would have to do something to minimize the damage that Galvatron would do to the Decepticons should he take full command. He would first have to keep Galvatron away from the other Decepticons, for the most part, or else the troops would figure out his unfitness and factionalism would divide their people once again. But in battle? In battle that could not be done, so Cyclonus would have to find some other way of masking the truth. He would have to enact Galvatron’s orders in a way that would make them good orders, without breaking them. Attack Cybertron. There were plenty of ways of doing that besides a full frontal assault. Let Galvatron go with the main group, attack directly—that would perhaps comfort him. Cyclonus would travel in with a side group, make Galvatron’s forces more likely to succeed. He would have to get energon, though, somehow. Simple enough task—he would send out some of the Sweeps. They were competent enough. He would need to keep Scourge with him, though—Scourge would have to be his confidante in this. Watching Galvatron spin through space, Cyclonus never would have imagined that his life would be more difficult with the return of the Decepticon leader.
 

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