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        Had he a mouth, Soundwave would have been frowning about now. As it was, he had only a faceplate, and no desire to say anything, so he simply stood and looked around the room he now found himself in. The Autobots were still using the old Decepticon smelting pits for refuse reclamation, although he doubted they considered the same things to be refuse that the Decepticons had. Fortunately, their refuse tubes didn’t empty directly into the smelting pits, or he would not exist right now. As it was, he was mildly shaken up and generally aggravated that he would not be able to bring Perceptor in for Cyclonus. The Autobot scientist had most likely departed his lab by this point, and he had no desire to go hunting around the Iacon base for him, particularly when the Devastator was due to begin dismantling it anytime soon.

        He would have to proceed on with his secondary goal and hope for the best, then.

        Opening his auditory receptors, he heard the sound of the battle above him and was able to determine where the center of Iacon would roughly be. Keeping his sensors open to detect the approach of any Autobots trying to stop him, he made his way toward the center of the complex, where the Autobots would undoubtedly keep their primary computer array. From millions of years of war, he knew they wouldn’t have been foolish enough to keep their computer center in the command center he had come in through. The consoles up there were most likely slave units linked to a central processor. If he could get to that core, he would have access to all the information the Autobots held, and could use that data to replenish the Decepticon armada in energon, materials, and weaponry.

        He heard the wrenching of metal, and the heavy beat of enormous footsteps—Devastator was in the battle, then. All could very well go as planned, if Devastator was successful at tearing Iacon apart. While the Constructicons themselves were rather inferior mechanisms, Soundwave would not deny that the Devastator was perhaps the most consistently powerful weapon the Decepticons had. It had been Devastator that had breached the defenses of Autobot City, and with luck he would do the same here.

        Soundwave detected the steady hum of power generators and air conditioners and made his way toward the sound. Rounding one last corner, he saw what he had been looking for—the Autobot computer core, surrounded by pipes flowing with liquid keeping the heat of the powerful processors from causing an inferno. He walked up to the main access panel and looked it over. As he had anticipated, it was still using common Cybertronian technology—which meant his cassettes would be able to interface with it easily.

        Soundwave called the cassette he most rarely used to the front of his housing. This would most likely be a suicide mission for the little robot; Soundwave had almost not agreed to it. But Cyclonus could be a very convincing speaker, and he had shown Soundwave how necessary this was for the war effort. It still pained him to reach up with his left hand and depress his eject button.

        "Buzzsaw, eject. Mission: espionage."

        The gold-black cassette flew from Soundwave’s chest compartment directly into one of the drives on the side of the computer core. Buzzsaw knew the risks involved in the mission: he was to hack his way into the Autobot computer system and download copies of all the data it contained into Soundwave, that he could bring it to Cyclonus and Galvatron. Buzzsaw would then edit the data in the Autobot computer, erasing access programs to long-range observation satellites, deleting mentions of energon-rich planets that the war had not yet spilled over onto, and change navigational data to leave Autobot vessels vulnerable to attack from hidden Decepticon outposts. He was to stay clear of intelligence data on the Decepticons—if the Autobots noticed that was edited in any way, they might deduce the presence of a Decepticon agent.

        Once that was completed, Buzzsaw was to remain behind should the Decepticons be forced to flee Cybertron once again. That way, he would be able to gather data on the activities of the Autobots and act as a gremlin in order to foul up troop movements and other activities detrimental to the Decepticon war effort. Even if the Autobots lost the Iacon base, they would do their best to salvage this computer, as it held all their information. It was in this capacity that Buzzsaw was in the most danger; should he be discovered, he would be in the center of an Autobot installation, on an Autobot world, and there would be no Decepticons nearby to aid him in escaping the Autobots’ clutches. Once they discovered his espionage, they would most likely scrap him. And that possibility caused Soundwave great pain, though he would never express it. He and his cassettes shared a bond of common activity for millennia—they were, in a way, what the flesh creatures of Earth would call a "family." To be separated from one of his children, for that child to possibly die because of it. . .

        "Data download complete. Luck be with you, Buzzsaw." Soundwave turned and left to join the battle outside without another word.

        Cyclonus watched as Superion collapsed into his component parts, then turned to the Stunticons and the Combaticons. He had kept them together so that he might order them to combine once the Autobot gestalts had gone down. Superion was the only one that had arrived on the scene to fight the Devastator—had Omega Supreme been anywhere near Cybertron, he would have arrived to fight his ancient enemy. The fall of Superion left the Autobots with no gestalts and no Omega Supreme—which meant they had nothing now that could fight Menasor and Bruticus.

        "Stunticons! Combaticons! Merge now, and destroy the Autobots!"

        The teams did as they were told, effortlessly breaking away from the battle and transforming, first into their more vulnerable vehicle modes, then into the components of their respective super-robots. The Autobots redoubled their efforts, and the laserfire from their bunkered-in positions tripled, making them very much like a small sun. The additional shots meant nothing, however, as their firepower merely bounced off the heavily-armored shells of the super-Decepticons.

        Menasor laughed at the futile efforts of his enemies while Bruticus, a machine of action and little words, opened fire with his rifle, destroying one of the Autobots’ forward positions and forcing them into the open, where he could crush them with his enormous feet. Cyclonus, seeing an opportunity, transformed into starfighter mode and strafed the fleeing Autobots, forcing them back toward Bruticus to be destroyed.

        Now. Now, there would be nothing to stand in the way of a Decepticon victory. Galvatron had done it. Insane as his tactics had seemed, he had won the Cybertronian Wars for the Decepticons.

        "Die, Autobot slag!" Runamuck yelled, charging at Rodimus brandishing firing guns in both hands.

        As the lasers struck Rodimus, barely penetrating his Prime armor, the Autobot leader pictured Runamuck’s face as Springer’s. He was just like a Decepticon, after all—sarcastic, hard to control, cynical, hard-tempered, opportunistic. . .

        With a single well-placed shot to Runamuck’s head, the Decepticon’s helmet armor shattered, exposing his inner circuitry, and he fell backward into his Battlecharger brother, Runabout, and they both collapsed. He started to walk over to the downed warriors, ready to finish them with shots straight through their laser cores, when he saw a pink Cybertronian car driving toward him. Arcee.

        She transformed. "Rodimus!"

        "What?" He asked sharply, looking up at her as he fired his weapon, twice. At his feet, the Decepticons faded to gray.

        She stared at the two piles of scrap in horror, opened her mouth to say something, then merely stared at Rodimus, jaw agape, her face the very expression of bewilderment.

        Rodimus stared back at her, the age lines developed since he started carrying the Matrix hardened. "It’s no worse than they’ve already done to many of our friends. The time has come to strike them as they strike us."

        Arcee closed her mouth and nodded in understanding. Good. If the Autobots didn’t start destroying their enemies instead of disabling them, when the Decepticons were not taking that same caution, then the Autobots would ultimately lose this battle, and the war, due to the thinning out of their ranks. He had told nearly all the Autobots he had come across in this battle to destroy the Decepticons they fought, so they could not strike against the Autobots any longer. Many of them had resisted, saying it wasn’t the Autobot way. Rodimus had reminded them of Prowl, and Brawn, and Ironhide, of Windcharger and Wheeljack. Of Prime. They had finally nodded in acceptance of his orders when he mentioned Prime. As if by merely mentioning his name he had the authority of the former leader of the Autobots. As if his words, by themselves, were not worthy enough until they had some connection to Optimus.

        "Why are you here instead of back with the others?" Rodimus asked abruptly, not willing to stand and stare back at her in the middle of a battle.

        Arcee came out of her daze, her optics focusing on Rodimus. "I—I wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn’t want us to go through this battle, and possibly not living out of it, angry with each other."

        Rodimus looked away, nodded. "Yes. It is better not to die with things unresolved."

        "A noble sentiment, Autobot!" This new voice shook Rodimus to the core, so filled was it with malice and insanity. "Now, let us ensure that this touching scene doesn’t go to waste!"

        Rodimus turned around just in time to see Galvatron land, just in time to dodge when Galvatron raised his particle cannon and shot at him. Rodimus felt the electric tingle of the energy as it missed him by mere centimeters, exploding against a wrecked and empty building behind him. Galvatron fired again and again at Rodimus, and Rodimus broke into a run to avoid the shots, barely dodging the blasts. Rodimus saw Arcee, obviously frightened from the look on her face, turn and fire at the Decepticon leader. The shot bounced off his heavy gray armor.

        Rodimus lived the next astroseconds of his life in slow motion. He saw Galvatron laugh at Arcee as she fired again and again. He watched as Galvatron turned at the waist and aimed his particle cannon at the smaller, pink Autobot. He heard the whine of Galvatron’s power generators cycling up for the shot, saw the barrel of the orange cannon begin to glow with energy, saw Arcee, unmoving, directly in front of it.

        Rodimus leapt for her.

        Galvatron fired.

        The explosion knocked Perceptor off his feet, and he flew into a nearby half-fallen wall. Cyclonus flew by overhead, not bothering to swing around for another pass at the scientist. Perceptor was most grateful for it—he had no desire to fight an opponent that was both faster and better armed than he. In fact, he would much rather not be on the battlefield at all—he had had more than enough fighting to last him a dozen lifetimes during the Unicron crisis. But, if his fellow Autobots needed an extra gun, then so be it. . .

        The ground underneath Perceptor’s feet shuddered violently, and a dark shadow passed over him from behind. Almost completely frozen in fear, he turned around to see what was casting the shadow. He looked up. . .further up still. . .and saw Bruticus looking down at him, his face expressionless, aiming his enormous gun at the Autobot scientist.

        "Bruticus!" Perceptor cried.

        "Autobot scrap," came the reply. Bruticus aimed his rifle, pulled the trigger—

        —and missed Perceptor completely. The smaller robot was fast enough to dodge Bruticus’ sluggish shots. Bruticus roared in anger and frustration and lifted his left leg to bring his foot down squarely on Perceptor. Again, he missed—and Perceptor took off running for cover. Bruticus followed, taking large, exaggerated steps to try and catch up with the scientist and crush him. He disappeared into an alley and Bruticus followed, smashing the buildings on either side of him so his broad shoulders could pass. Perceptor continued running, firing ineffectually at the combiner, and after several minutes finally ran himself into a corner.

        As he approached, Bruticus was amused as he watched Perceptor look around himself and realize what he had gotten himself into. He couldn’t help but laugh at the Autobot—after all, Perceptor was supposed to be the Autobots’ finest mind. After he was through, the Autobots would have a very intelligent pile of flattened scrap metal.

        "Die, Autobot!" Bruticus yelled, raising his foot high over Perceptor, about to crush him utterly.

        Sudden pain flared through Bruticus’ back, exploding outward from between his shoulders to his hands, feet, and head. He didn’t even have enough energy to scream as he began to topple over, his components locked into position, crashing through the structure Perceptor was trapped against.

        "I knew that spot was probably still important!" Skyfire called as he flew by overhead.

        "Skyfire! I’m indebted to you!" Perceptor replied to his fellow scientist.

        Skyfire didn’t stick around to converse, however, as he immediately took off after a pack of Sweeps that were strafing the Autobot position at the Hedron ravine.

        "We’re pinned in by that mechanical monstrosity!" Kup yelled to the other Autobots in the trench that had been carved out of the metal Cybertronian surface by a high-yield laser.

        "Well what do we do, huh, Kup, what do we do what do we do what do we do he’s gonna kill us all step right on us if we don’t do something right now right now right now!" Blurr said, moving from place to place in the trench, firing at Menasor.

        "Calm down, lad. This reminds me of the time on Alcestis V, when we were fighting a Giant Terraska. . ."

        "Never mind the war stories, Kup! How to we beat that thing?" Trailbreaker asked, his weapons arm and missile launchers all aimed and firing at the gestalt.

        "Well, we were in a ditch like this one, and we taunted him to step on us. When he did, we were able to duck down a bit so we wouldn’t get hurt, and then we grabbed its foot and pushed it backward, so it fell on its butt." Recounting the tale brought a faint smile to Kup’s mouth.

        "Sounds like a good idea. I’ll try anything once." Whirl called, his blades damaged and his flight mode inoperable from crashing headlong into a pack of Sweeps. "Just my kind of craziness."

        "Great! Let’s start taunting it, then!" Trailbreaker said, aiming higher than he had before, straight for Menasor’s optics. His lasers splashed across the giant’s red optic housings, doing no damage but temporarily blinding him. "When he gets ready to step on us, I’ll activate my force shield and we can use it to help knock him over."

        "Good thinking, lad!" Kup replied, aiming for Menasor’s mouth instead of his eyes.

        The combiner roared. "Puny Autobots! Menasor will destroy!"

        "Try finishing your sentences first, big boy!" Whirl cried, letting loose with everything he had on Menasor’s hip joints.

        With a wordless roar of fury and pain, Menasor raised its right foot and brought it down hard on the trench containing the Autobots. Trailbreaker barely had enough time to erect his force shield—and once he did, he fell to his knees thanks to the strain Menasor’s attack put on Trailbreaker’s circuitry.

        "Are you all right, lad?" Kup asked, reaching out for Trailbreaker.

        "I’m fine! Just. . .hurry up and knock him over, or we’re goners!"

        The other Autobots in the ditch braced themselves against the smelted steel walls and pushed with all their strength upward, against the force field and Menasor’s foot. Even with their gears straining, they weren’t able to shift the super-robot’s weight enough to move it more than a centimeter.

        "This ain’t working, Kup!" Whirl called.

        "The Terraska weighed a lot less, let me tell you. . .that, and we had about thirty bots with us. . ."

        Whirl looked around at the half-dozen Autobots in the ditch. "Do you neglect to mention these things on purpose, Kup?"

        "Never fear, fellow Autobots! Sky Lynx is here!"

        Menasor looked up to snarl at the newcomer. It could tell that it hadn’t crushed the Autobots, and was trying to lean more and more weight on its right foot. Sky Lynx, his shuttle form transformed into his bird-flight mode, shot fire from his mouth directly into Menasor’s face. Menasor brought its left arm up to shield its face, raised its rifle with its right arm to aim for the Autobot it couldn’t see—

        —and Sky Lynx’s tail smashed into its chest, knocking it further off balance. Menasor tried to step backward and regain its balance, but it instead slammed its leg into some unseen structure that hadn’t been there a minute before. Menasor lost its balance completely, tumbling over Sky Lynx’s puma form and falling to the ground.
 

       To Chapter Fifteen