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       To Chapter Fourteen
 

        Cyclonus saw Menasor fall backwards and shatter into the Stunticons, saw also that Bruticus had been badly damaged. Two of the largest and most powerful Decepticons had been knocked out of the battle, and Galvatron himself was nowhere to be seen. If he knew his fellow Decepticons as well as he thought he did—

        Yes. There. Dirge, the first of the Decepticons fleeing the field of battle, afraid for his existence now that he had seen the Autobots grab some small measure of victory. It was fortunate Galvatron wasn’t here to see this, or the seeker would be destroyed without hesitation, to teach the Decepticons a lesson about the foolishness of cowardice. Cyclonus had neither Galvatron’s firepower nor his aura of command, so he would have to stop this from proceeding further a more difficult way.

        He transformed. "Decepticons, listen to me! Menasor and Bruticus have fallen, yes, but Devastator still functions! There is no reason to flee—" He landed in the midst of the largest group of Decepticons, and they surrounded him, listening to his words with the respect of warriors acknowledging a superior.

        "They’ve got reinforcements!" One of the Sweeps cried. So, even Scourge was feeling the need to flee, was he?

        "What are their reinforcements? Two Autobots! We have already destroyed more than ten times that number! Come, Decepticons, fight on!"

        He heard a murmur of acknowledgment run through the crowd, and somewhere in the back, a voice he didn’t recognize screamed a battle cry in acceptance of Cyclonus’ plea. The cry carried through the crowd, and within seconds the Decepticons charged past him toward the Autobot battle lines. He was pleased to see Dirge among them.

        "Only two Autobots, Cyclonus? You miscounted!" The voice came from above him, and just as he was looking up, he was knocked to the ground by a small, red-and-black form. The small Autobot grabbed him by his throat as he lay prone on his back and started squeezing inward. "I’m gonna pay you back for what you did to those people on Darios IX!"

        "What. . .are you talking about. . .Autobot?" The pressure was starting to damage his vocoder. He grabbed the Autobot by the shoulders, tried to pry him off. He was stronger than he looked—Cyclonus could have done it easily, if he hadn’t cared about tearing his own neck off in the process.

        "I’m talking about the human colony you destroyed so you could refuel yourself, Decepticon scum! I’m going to make you feel every death all. . .over. . .again!" Cliffjumper leaned forward, putting all of his weight, and all of the pressure he could bring to bear, against Cyclonus’ throat.

        Cyclonus felt it, knew the little Autobot had underestimated him. He would have one chance to loose himself from this one—he shifted his grip from the Autobot’s arms to his shoulders, then kicked his legs up and outward while pulling him forward with his hands.

        The gamble worked. Cyclonus flipped the Autobot off him, heard him crash onto his back behind Cyclonus’ head. Cyclonus leapt to his feet and spun around, pulling his gun and aiming it directly at his attacker, who was rising slowly with eyes flashing an angry blue. Cyclonus smiled—his gun was fully loaded, and the Autobot didn’t even have a weapon.

        "I’m gonna kill you, Cyclonus. One way or another. You’re mine!"

        "You have me at a disadvantage, Autobot. You know who I am, but I have no idea of who you are."

        "Cliffjumper. I want you to know the name of your killer."

        Cyclonus smiled. "I’m not dead yet, Autobot. Though your beloved fleshlings are. And now, so are you." He fired directly into Cliffjumper’s chest, the oxidizing laser piercing through the Autobot’s outer shell and burning its way through his circuits, melting them and destroying him from the inside out. Cliffjumper screamed, clutched at the small black wound in his chest, and fell to the ground, twitching and moaning.

        Cyclonus walked over to him, knowing he was in no position to fight him or harm him in any way. Looking down at the Autobot, he smiled. Another of his enemies dead. But he couldn’t help but wonder what this Darios IX colony was. Judging from Cliffjumper’s comments, it was that fleshling settlement he had raided to get energy for his attack on Quintessa. But why would those dead fleshlings matter so much to the Autobot? They were simply small flesh creatures, after all.

        Cyclonus decided that it was a peculiarity of these Autobots to care for such pathetic life forms. Not that it would matter to them for terribly much longer—after all, they were about to be defeated by the Decepticons once and for all. Cyclonus smiled, charged his gun for automatic fire, and returned to battle.

        "Arrgh!" Rodimus gritted his teeth and bore the pain, as any good Leader of the Autobots should. Thinking about his position did not help him fight the pain of the enormous burn across his back, though. Indeed, his thoughts only seemed to make it grow—as if his body, knowing Optimus Prime only experienced this kind of pain in the last moments of his life, wanted him to know what this meant for him.

        "Rodimus? Are you all right?" Arcee asked from underneath him, her fingers probing the black scar on his back from where Galvatron’s laser had scorched him.

        "Yes, Rodimus, are you all right?" The power generators began cycling again. "Because if you are, you won’t be for long!"

        Rodimus stood up, pushing aside the pain as best he could so he would appear strong in front of Arcee and Galvatron. "I defeated you once before, Galvatron. It’ll be an easy matter to do it again."

        Galvatron screamed incoherently and fired several times at Rodimus. The Autobot leader dodged each blast, running toward Galvatron in a zigzag fashion. Rodimus knew Arcee wouldn’t have been foolish enough to stand up behind him, so he didn’t bother to spare a glance backwards in his headlong rush on Galvatron. He felt the air around him tingle with the energy the Decepticon leader was releasing, ignored it as best he could.

        When he reached Galvatron, Rodimus knocked his right arm away, throwing off Galvatron’s aim completely. He then grabbed Galvatron’s throat and lifted him off the ground, staring into his optics the entire time.

        "Last I heard of you, Galvatron, you were just as much space debris as Unicron. You should’ve stayed that way!" Rodimus threw Galvatron to the ground.

        "Unicron! How dare you say that name? I shall destroy you as I destroyed Prime and Ultra Magnus!" Galvatron roared, firing again as he stood. Rodimus barely dodged the shot, and it clipped him in his left knee, forcing him to the ground.

        "Haven’t you heard the news, Galvatron? Ultra Magnus survived—you failed to get rid of him, and you’ll fail to get rid of me!" Rodimus wanted Galvatron angry—the angrier he was, the more likely he was to make a mistake. And if he made a mistake, chances were good that Rodimus would actually be able to beat him—as it stood, with his damage and Galvatron’s cannon, he doubted he could do so without the power of the Matrix enveloping him.

        Galvatron then ran up to him and grappled with him, finally getting a good enough grip to lift the Autobot over his head. Galvatron held Rodimus in the air, for a moment, then slammed the Autobot commander’s wounded back into his bent knee. Rodimus howled in pain as sparks flew from the exposed circuitry in his back. The force of the blow cracked the golden foil on Rodimus’ back, which then fell to the ground in pieces.

        Galvatron dropped him. "You see, Rodimus Prime, there is nothing that can stand in my way. Not even you." He aimed at the back of Prime’s head as the Autobot leader lay prone on the ground. "You will oppose me no longer."

        Before he could fire, he was knocked backward by a sudden barrage of laserfire. He looked up to see what was attacking him—and saw the female Autobot firing with her own gun in one hand and Rodimus’s gun in the other. He stepped back under the barrage and brought his own cannon to bear.

        "You have fired on me for the last time," he said, his generators cycling for the kill.

        "Oh, no you don’t, Galvatron," Rodimus said urgently, kicking out with his feet and knocking Galvatron’s legs out from underneath him. Galvatron fell, his shot going wild, and Arcee stopped firing so she wouldn’t hit Rodimus as he leapt up. He smiled at her. "Thanks."

        "Not a problem," she returned the smile, keeping her weapons trained on Galvatron. "Should I finish him?"

        Rodimus looked down at Galvatron, thought back to how, when he was Megatron, he killed Optimus Prime before his eyes, using Hot Rod as a shield. A shield that he knew Optimus would never fire through. Thought about how he had had Ultra Magnus destroyed. How he had tried to kill him when he had still been Hot Rod, how he now returned to finish the job he had failed at before.

        He thought about how the Autobots hated their new leader. About how he had wished for the return of the Decepticons, for a fight to take their minds off the death of Optimus Prime.

        But even at the core of his programming he knew he couldn’t let Galvatron live simply to satisfy his own ego. Galvatron was a murderer, one of the most destructive forces in the universe. He had terrorized thousands of worlds, shaken entire galaxies to their knees. With him commanding the Decepticons, they could rise up once again and reclaim not only Cybertron, but their position as the mightiest conquerors in the universe. He could not allow Galvatron to live.

        Turning his gaze to Arcee, he smiled. He couldn’t let Galvatron live, but he didn’t have to allow Arcee to kill him, either. If he were to finish Galvatron, once and for all—something that Optimus could never do to Megatron—then the Autobots would have to see him as a great leader, at the very least Prime’s equal. He reached out for his gun.

        "No. I’ll do it. He killed Prime because of me. Now it’s time for me to return the favor."

        Arcee nodded understanding, and handed him the large, black weapon.

        In the bare seconds it took her to do so, when neither Arcee nor Rodimus were looking at him, Galvatron rose and ran to them with all his speed. Rodimus seemed to realize what was happening before Arcee—he tried to bring his rifle to bear, but Galvatron knocked it out of his hands while a kick to the pink Autobot knocked her to the ground, her weapon skittering across the rubble and far out of her reach.

        "Now, Prime, it’s just you and me. And without your female, you cannot defeat me!" Galvatron drove his fists into Rodimus’ gut over and over again, knocking the Autobot backward and doubling him over. Once he was bent over, Galvatron balled his fists together and slammed them into the open wound on Rodimus’ back, flattening him on the ground.

        Rodimus could barely move. His entire body was wracked with pain, so much that he could barely push it aside to tell his body to move. And when it responded to his commands, it did so shakily, weakly—his energon levels were dropping, his armor was cracked open and leaking fluids, and his motor functions were sluggish at best, in some places completely inoperative.

        But he couldn’t let Galvatron beat him! He had barely put up a fight—Galvatron wasn’t cracked and dented, weak as Prime had left Megatron. Galvatron was in excellent condition, and Rodimus was barely functioning. He had to get up, to fight—he had to do something. He felt like he was living in a nightmare, doing everything in his power to beat Galvatron, only to have the Decepticon leader shrug off everything being thrown at him to come back stronger. Rise! Rise!

        "Where is the power you displayed when we first met, Rodimus, eh? Do you need the Matrix to protect you from my wrath? Perhaps I should tear it out of you, as I tore it from the dead grasp of Ultra Magnus!" He raised one foot, thrust it downward to kick in Rodimus Prime’s head and end his existence once and for all. He couldn’t help but laugh. He raised his optics to the stars above and, laughing, cried out, shaking his fists at those cold eyes: "Victory is mine! As I knew it must be! As it always shall be! I am Galvatron! I alone rule!"

        And then his foot stopped. Galvatron, shocked, looked down.

        To see Rodimus Prime, one feeble hand holding back the weight of Galvatron. The Autobot commander’s face was taut with the effort, but his muscle cables strained and not only held Galvatron from crushing Rodimus’ metallic skull, it began to push him backward. Galvatron sensed he was losing his balance and held out his arms to try and keep it—but that dispersed his weight, and Rodimus started pushing him back even faster.

        Galvatron kicked up with this other foot, catching Rodimus in the jaw and knocking him backward while he fell down and out of Rodimus’ grasp. The Autobot leader used the momentum of the strike to push himself off the ground and onto his feet. His stance was shaky at first, but then steadied as he leveled his gaze on Galvatron, who was also rising.

        "You’re finished, Galvatron." Rodimus said, pointing at his counterpart. Galvatron stepped back, remembering his humiliation a year before: It’s the end of the road, Galvatron. The voice of authority. The voice of the Matrix speaking through Rodimus Prime. No! He had already won this battle—how dare this young fool steal his victory!

        "Never! Never, do you hear me? My troops have shattered your defenses! I have beaten you down! I am Galvatron, I am unstoppable! Only I rule!" Galvatron screamed wordlessly and threw himself at Rodimus. The Autobot commander was ready for it, however, and sidestepped easily, throwing out a hip and using Galvatron’s own momentum to flip him to the ground.

        Galvatron hit the ground on his back and stood up, facing away from Rodimus. Then, ratcheting his torso so that it was completely backwards, he grabbed Rodimus and looped his arms through his enemy’s, then locked the Autobot into a headlock. Using as much of his strength as he could, Galvatron tried to force Rodimus’ head into his chest to snap his neck and render him inert. Rodimus fought him millimeter for millimeter, the strain in his rotors audible.

        "Killing you will bring me the ultimate satisfaction, Autobot," Galvatron whispered into Rodimus’ audio receptor. "You have been a challenging opponent."

        "Have been, Galvatron? You overestimate yourself." Rodimus spoke with a voice filled with hatred, and Galvatron saw him raise his arms to try and reach for Galvatron’s head. Foolish Autobot—the hold he was in locked his arms to he couldn’t reach his attacker.

        And then Rodimus fired with all six of the lasers on his arms, blasting Galvatron directly in the face with the same firepower that had first betrayed the Decepticons at Autobot City a year before. Galvatron howled in pain, but refused to release his captive. He could feel the armor of his face melting, burning away, revealing the delicate circuitry underneath. He could sense his optics fuzzing out into static, could sense the power backup in his sensors. The more pain he felt, the more pressure he put on Rodimus—but Rodimus still did not stop firing, burning into Galvatron’s face more and more, burrowing into his mind itself. . .

        "Nooo!" Galvatron screamed behind Rodimus, suddenly twisting and bucking like an angry bronco. Still he held on, though, and Rodimus was tossed about in his arms. Would nothing get the Decepticon to release him? He finally stopped firing his arm lasers—they weren’t having the effect he had intended, and were only causing him more pain and energon loss.

        Suddenly, he was up in the air—Galvatron, his hold on Rodimus still unbroken, was flying up over the battlefield. No doubt he wanted to rally his troops with the site of Rodimus, badly damaged, in a helpless position. If he were able to do that, Rodimus knew the Autobots would lose hope irregardless of their feelings for their leader. He would have to do something, and do it now, before Galvatron had enough altitude for his display.

        He had one hope, and it was risky, but he would have to take it. He brought his fists to the side of his head, judged that his arm lasers were pointed roughly at Galvatron’s interlocked hands, and fired everything he had into them. If it didn’t work, the Autobots would lose the battle. If it did work, he would fall, crashing into the surface of Cybertron at terminal velocity. He had no choice, though, and he prayed to Primus that it would work.

        "Aaorrgh!" Galvatron screamed wordlessly. As the Decepticon finally let go of Rodimus, unhooking his hands so the Autobot leader could squirm out of his grip, Rodimus couldn’t help but think about the Galvatron he now fought, how different he was from the brutal, devastatingly effective commander of the Decepticon forces he had known during the Unicron crisis. Now, he was a berserker, screaming for the sheer sound of it as much as anything else. Galvatron was also stronger than he had seemed before—as if his rage gave him power.

        Not that any of that mattered at the moment. Rodimus looked down to the rapidly approaching surface of Cybertron, and knew he would be doomed unless he could orient himself properly. Looking up, watching Galvatron float over Cybertron staring at his hands in anger, his half-melted face smoking in the thin atmosphere, he concentrated on transforming into his vehicle mode.

        He did so, his position as he was falling ensuring that his trailer would hit the ground before his cab, keeping his already battered body relatively safe. He fell to the ground with a thump muffled by the sounds of the battlefield around them, and his trailer crumpled and buckled with the impact. Rodimus started to transform, to free himself from the wreckage, when he noticed that the trailer had buckled around him, preventing him from escaping it easily. Above him, Galvatron turned his optics to his enemy.

        The Decepticon leader was furious. He had never been so badly damaged, had never expected his powerful form to be brought so low. His circuitry was exposed in a dozen different places, his armor cracked and melted, his optics so badly damaged that he had to concentrate to see through the static. His automatic targeting systems were down, and his self-repair modules were operating at only half efficiency. His body was so wracked with pain that the pounding in his temples, in his mind, was blissfully dulled.

        But his fury at Rodimus Prime remained. The Autobot had stolen the Matrix of Leadership from him, had beaten him and exiled him to the hellish world of Thrull, had scarred him. Impossibly, he had beaten him time and time again. But not this time! He was Galvatron, he was unstoppable! He swung his arm cannon downward, aimed it as best he could at the Autobot commander. He fired, and tasted victory.

        The explosion tore through Rodimus Prime’s trailer, destroying it. In the process, though, buckled clamps gave way, and Rodimus was able to hurl himself out of the destruction of his trailer. The pain of it was excruciating—more than he had ever felt in his long lifetime—but he had survived, and he would continue his stand against Galvatron.

        He rose from the ground to see Galvatron flying straight for him, his fists in the lead. Rodimus had just enough time to register this image before Galvatron struck him dead in his gut and, still flying, slam Rodimus into the wall of an abandoned building on the edge of their private battlefield. Debris from the top of the wall fell on Rodimus, half-burying him. Weary of the battle, with systems stunned and worked beyond capacity, Rodimus was barely able to try and shield himself from the large chunks of steel.

        Galvatron stood up in front of him, aiming his particle cannon directly at his face. "Now, Rodimus Prime, now you will not be able to escape me. Now, you Die!"
 

       To Chapter Sixteen