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        "I say Motormaster should rule! It is he who exposed Galvatron for the fraud he is!" Dead End cried.

        "You know the law. The Decepticon leader must have the power to defeat all contenders to his throne. I seriously doubt that he has that strength with that enormous hole in the middle of his chest." Cyclonus spoke calmly, his voice carrying easily over the Decepticons massed in their valley encampment. It hadn’t taken them long to begin fighting over who would be the new leader of the Decepticons, now that Galvatron had fled from their anger.

        "You have found fault with every contender so far," Blitzwing said. "I think you’re angling for the leadership yourself! Everybody knows you have Scourge, the Sweeps, and Soundwave in your pocket!"

        Cyclonus stared down at Blitzwing. One of the larger, more powerful Decepticons, the triple-changer was strong enough to take leadership for himself if he wanted it. Cyclonus had been quick to stop the infighting among the Decepticons over who would next lead them. They would only waste precious resources in fighting each other, and only succeed in weakening themselves in the face of the inevitable Autobot onslaught. He had failed in his attempts to convince them to hold off the coronation of a new leader until they had found a new home. The next best thing, he supposed, was officiating an orderly procession of candidates. None of whom were worthy to lead the Decepticons, of course, but none of them saw it that way.

        "You would do well to silence yourself, Blitzwing. I have allies among the Decepticons, yes, but never once have I seen fit to place my own agenda above the welfare of the Decepticons. I challenge you to point out where I have done this." He raised his voice, raised his eyes from Blitzwing to the rest of the Decepticons. "I challenge any of you to prove this!" After a few moments of silence, with several Decepticons glancing away from his gaze, Cyclonus continued. "We would be far better served if we were to wait until after we have moved off-planet before selecting a new leader."

        "Cyclonus for leader!" Someone in the back yelled.

        "I am not angling for command!" Cyclonus roared, and the Decepticons in the front row, by his feet where he stood on a rock outcropping, visibly flinched. "Now, can we end this charade, and get on with the business of saving our race?"

        "I could not agree with you more, Cyclonus." The voice seemed to come from the very air itself. It echoed throughout the small valley, and some smaller rocks clattered with the sound of its thunder. Even Cyclonus felt the need to shrink before such a voice, so filled with power and command that Cyclonus was filled with the immediate urge to bow, and did so. The other Decepticons, he noticed, did the same. Never had he seen so many Decepticons prostrate at one time. Was this some kind of Autobot trick? Had he finally failed the Decepticons, in not getting them off-planet before the Autobot attack came?

        "Rise, Cyclonus." Cyclonus stood as he was bid, and looked up, searching the stars above for the source of the words. His optics widened as he saw Galvatron slowly, confidently, falling from the stars to land gracefully by his side.

        His body had been fully repaired and gleamed with the shine of newness. His purples and grays were darker now, stronger than they had ever been. He stood as a triumphant hero returning to his people, and Cyclonus could see in his optics the same cunning, the same genius, that he had seen when Galvatron was first created from the ruins of Megatron. He searched the face of his leader for any sign of the madness that had infected him since his return from Thrull. He found nothing.

        "M-my lord Galvatron?" Cyclonus’ logic processors could not comprehend how Galvatron could have been rebuilt and reborn so soon after his departure. Had he gone straight to the Quintessons? But how could they have healed his mind?

        Galvatron looked at him and smiled. "Yes, Cyclonus. It is I, Galvatron. I have returned."

        Cyclonus fell to his knees before Galvatron. "My lord Galvatron, I am ever your servant."

        Galvatron touched Cyclonus’ shoulder, and with a single hand drew him back up to stand. "Know that I see nothing you have ever done as treachery to myself or to the Decepticons. The Galvatron that you discovered on Thrull was but a pale shadow, the merest imitation of who now stands before you. I have died, and been reborn. I shall be with you always."

        Cyclonus felt an enormous joy swell throughout his being. Yes, this was the Galvatron he remembered! This was truly a leader among robots, an intellect and a strength beyond compare! He wanted to jump up and shout to the universe, "Beware! Beware, for Galvatron has returned! Galvatron has returned, and all who stand in his way shall fall! There are none who will not tremble before his might! Behold, Behold!"

        "Motormaster, come forth!" Galvatron reached out an arm, drawing Motormaster out of the crowd of Decepticons. In that stance, one arm thrown forward, the light of the stars shimmering on his unblemished exostructure, Galvatron was resplendent, and Cyclonus knew that the time had passed where the Decepticons would cower for fear of their lives and starving for energy on a forgotten, burnt-out husk of a world. Galvatron would gather all the scattered remnants of the Decepticon army into one fighting unit, and no one and nothing could stand in his way.

        Motormaster, ragged and weak compared to the warrior-king who now stood before the Decepticons, shuffled up to the front of the crowd of Decepticons, who had fallen silent in the presence of their returned leader. Galvatron looked down at Motormaster, a faint smile on his metallic lips.

        "Motormaster, it was you who led the Decepticons against the pretender Galvatron, the dim shadow. It is for this that I thank you, for without the destruction of the pretender, I should have never been able to return to you. But now I return to lead the Decepticons into a new era of power and glory."

        Motormaster raised one hand to point loosely at Galvatron. "How. . .is this possible?"

        Galvatron smiled and turned his optics to the stars. "I have been destroyed, and reforged, by the power of God Himself."

        Lord Ghyron hovered slowly into the room, the optics of all five of his faces glancing about. He had been called here for a reason, and there would be much suffering if it had been for anything other than a discovery of immense proportions. He had much planning to do, now that the Decepticons had failed to retake Cybertron. He could manipulate them into trying again, of course, but that would only further weaken them in the face of an entrenched Autobot army. The Quintessons needed Vector Sigma—if the Decepticons were incapable of getting rid of the Autobots, then he would most likely have to take matters into his own hands.

        Ghyron glanced around. This entire structure had been built around the leg of Unicron, and was the largest building on the face of Quintessa. There were experiments and investigations going on throughout the building and the leg within it, but this was the primary reverse-engineering chamber, the place which would most likely get results. What Ghyron saw did not engender within him any confidence.

        In one corner, a Quintesson scientist sat lopsided against the wall, a comical scene where he not weeping uncontrollably. On another side of the chamber, another scientist was crying, "It’s true! It’s all true! It’s all true!" and, as Ghyron watched in horror, drew his tentacles up and plucked out his own optics.

        Ytral, the scientist Ghyron had placed in charge of reverse-engineering the technology of Unicron, floated across the room toward him. "Lord Ghyron! It is excellent that you have arrived so quickly after my summons."

        "Of course. What has happened here? Has your staff all gone mad?" Ghyron was larger than Ytral, and used that bulk to hover menacingly over the scientist. It worked; Ytral shrank back nervously.

        "N-no, My Lord Ghyron. It’s just. . .well, you’d better see for yourself."

        Ghyron followed Ytral to an exposed section of the leg, where several thick layers of exostructure had been peeled back to reveal the inner circuitry of Unicron. As they approached, Ghyron noted a fierce glow emanating from the circuits. They stood together, side-by-side, looking into the circuits and switchpanels before them. Ytral knew he would not have to explain the meaning of what they were looking at to Ghyron. Ghyron was grateful for the silence—an explanation of what he was looking at would have only spoiled its beauty.

        "Magnificent," Ghyron finally managed to breathe.

        Ytral blinked his optics, the Quintesson equivalent to a nod. "Yes. We have truly touched upon the divine, here. Primacron was the best of us."

        "Not so great that we cannot see what he has done, however." Ghyron pulled out a communicator with one tentacle and switched it to an appropriate frequency with another.

        "Yes, Lord Ghyron?" Churkon’s voice crackled over the link.

        "Inform Cyclonus that we have good news for the Decepticons." Ghyron turned off the communicator and put it away as he turned back to the glowing circuits, allowing their full light to fall on his face. "Good news, indeed."

        "Bah, guard duty. Have I ever mentioned that I hate guard duty?" Sideswipe grumbled at Kup.

        Kup smiled. "I think you’ve mentioned something about it, lad. You should be thankful for what we’ve got, though—why, back in my day, we didn’t have fancy escape-proof cells you just had to stand in front of. We had electrified cages, and you had to beat back your prisoners with a stick to keep them from breaking through."

        Sideswipe glanced at Kup for a second, who was smiling, then shook his head and continued down the hall. As they turned the corner to the cell block, Sideswipe cried out and rushed down the hall. Kup glanced up to see what had startled him, and saw that the cells containing the Combaticons, Constructicons and captured Seekers Dirge, Ramjet and Thrust blasted open and empty. He ran to Sideswipe’s side and saw the Autobot guard, his body shattered but still barely functioning.

        Kup kneeled down next to the dying Autobot. They’d never met before now, but Kup’s laser core ached at the thought of another Autobot falling dead at the hands of the Decepticons. He’d seen so much of it throughout the millennia-long course of the war. . .

        "Lad, speak to me. Can you tell me what happened?"

        "k k k k k k k k k k k" He was trying to get it out, Kup could see that, but his vocoder was too badly damaged to form the sounds. He nodded to Sideswipe, who reached into the guard’s open neck and made a quick repair to the vocoder. It pained Kup to repair only the vocoder and not the rest of his shattered body, but he could see from long experience that there would be no saving him. Even Bumblebee had been in better shape when he came in from the Moon Base.

        "Okay, lad, try it again."

        "I I I I I’m going to k k k k k die!"

        Kup didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was true.

        The guard wailed quietly at that, and a shower of sparks exploded from his side. The shock of it seemed to snap him back from his sadness, and he looked directly into Kup’s optics.

        "Air Raid," he said, and died.

        Kup glanced up at Sideswipe, who was already communication with Command and Control. At nearly the same moment, alarms sounded throughout Iacon, throughout Cybertron.

        Arcee checked the navigation data on her control board. She didn’t understand it—she should’ve been at Arcanon 6 by now. Her fingers played across the controls, checking and cross-checking her position with the information on Arcanon 6 that the Autobot Central Database had provided her. Everything checked out, but there were no planets for dozens of light-years—she was stuck in interstellar void with no solar systems in sight.

        Arcanon 6 had been one of the few planets near Cybertron that had not been effected by the War. It had always been determinedly neutral, and it had planetary shields which prevented the Decepticons from attacking it and succeeding. She had hoped she could be sheltered there, as a refugee from the War. Of course, that was a moot point now, because the planet didn’t seem to exist any more.

        Could the Decepticons have figured out some way to blast through its shields? She wondered.

        As she pondered what she’d do next, the shuttle around her shuddered. She checked her screens to see whether it was an asteroid or micrometeorite slamming into the side of the ship—when she detected nothing of the kind, and the ship shuddered again, she knew something was wrong. She stood up and drew her gun. Could the Decepticons have found her all the way out here, already?

        The main hatch blew in, and Arcee was horrified to see Cyclonus, Scourge and the Sweeps pour into the shuttle. She opened fire on them as all the air was sucked out of the shuttle, and managed to knock two of the Sweeps out of the battle before Cyclonus himself returned fire, aiming straight for her gun and blowing it up in her hands. Arcee screamed, the sound sucked away from her in the deafening roar of the escaping air, and fell to her knees. She clutched her right hand, its exostructure burned almost completely off, and stared up at Cyclonus defiantly, expecting no better of a filthy Decepticon.

        Cyclonus nodded to Scourge, and he and the Sweeps immediately set to repairing the hole in the side of the shuttle, bending the torn metal back into place and soldering it back together with their weapons.

        Finally, it was quiet once more in the shuttle, with Cyclonus and Arcee staring at each other across the cabin. The one spoke because he had nothing to say; the other, because she had so much to say and nowhere to begin saying it.

        Arcee spoke first. "Go on, then. Kill me. Just like you killed Springer."

        Cyclonus laughed, and the silence was broken. The Sweeps walked past him to take the helm of the shuttle. Cyclonus advanced, and kneeled down to face Arcee on a level plane.

        "Kill you, my dear? Not at all. You’re much more valuable to us alive. You see, we have plans for you." Cyclonus allowed a smile to cross his face.

        Arcee shuddered and started to crawl backward, only to find she had nowhere to go.
 
 

        To Chapter Twenty-Seven