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        This was a place of peace, one of the few left in his world. He had never thought to know true peace—the war was too much with him, too long in his memory. He would have gladly given it all up, at times—it would be simple to do a routine memory dump, wipe all the knowledge of millions of years of fighting and factionalism out of his mind. But then he’d be useless to his Autobot brothers. . .something too many of them claimed he already was.

        So instead, he sat here atop a high cliff, overlooking the valley of Karuon, his olfactory sensors detecting the scents of the grass and the trees and the animals prowling the lush forests. His optics could see for miles around, hundreds of miles if he engaged his magnification lenses. But his audio receptors—that was what he enjoyed most about coming here, to this place. His audio receptors might as well have been turned off, for all they could hear. The wind whipped across his high perch, and he could hear birds crying out to one another in the trees below—but here, here there was no sound of argument, no sound of repairs, no sound of war. Only peace, and quiet. He was not built for war.

        "Ho, there, good Autobot!" Brainstorm recognized the voice, and instantly tallied the face with the name. Doctor Arcana, one of the most prominent scientists on this distant planet and, like him, a lover of peace and solitude. "How goes the day?"

        Brainstorm turned to look at the small humanoid. For all that he, like his fellow Nebulans, looked like humans, Brainstorm found it constantly amazing to have to remind himself he was on the planet of Nebulos, not the planet Earth. He thought, briefly, of the parallels between his own group and that of Optimus Prime. Crashed, stranded on a distant world filled with small, delicate creatures; needing to establish a dialogue with the natives, convince them that no harm was intended. The key difference, though, one which Brainstorm was infinitely thankful for, was that they did not need to defend this world against Decepticons. No Decepticons had been able to follow them here, and even if they had, the Nebulans had more than enough firepower to deal with them.

        "The day goes well, my Nebulan friend. The serenity of this place is, as always, soothing to my sensors." Brainstorm gestured to the view and Arcana nodded, smiling. "And you?"

        Doctor Arcana walked over to the edge of the cliff, and the winds flapped his long coattails and loose white hair. He surveyed the valley with the practice of someone who has long known it, and who has long used this perch. "I come here only when my thoughts are troubled, Brainstorm, and need soothing. In that respect, I gather that we are very much alike, you and I."

        Brainstorm never failed to be amazed at Doctor Arcana’s intuition. There was no doubt, in Brainstorm’s mind, at least, that Arcana was the most brilliant mind on Nebulos, and perhaps even in the entire local star cluster.

        He nodded. "There have been. . .difficulties. . .back at the base. Many of my brothers wish to leave Nebulos, to return to Cybertron and the War."

        Arcana nodded. "And you do not."

        Brainstorm sighed. "You’ve never been to Cybertron. Everyone’s a warrior on Cybertron. Granted, all of them fall into different classes—the greatest warriors, like Ultra Magnus, to the smallest and weakest, like—well, like Bumblebee, for instance."

        Arcana nodded and smiled with a playful twinkle in his eye. Brainstorm noticed, and it took him a nanosecond to realize that Arcana had no idea who any of the robots he had mentioned were. Sometimes, he and Arcana seemed to understand each other so well that Brainstorm forgot they had only known each other for a year.

        "Everybody on Cybertron respects warriors, and that’s in part why I don’t care to return home. I’m only a mediocre warrior—my strength is in my intellect. There’s nothing for me to do, there. But here—"

        Arcana nodded. "Here on Nebulos, you have encountered a culture which values science above all things, a place where you can truly shine at what you do best and what you enjoy most."

        Brainstorm nodded. Doctor Arcana was the only being he knew of that could say exactly what Brainstorm would want to say, exactly how Brainstorm would want to say it. He found himself speechless more often than not in Arcana’s presence, if for no reason but a lack of anything to say.

        Arcana whistled quietly, like a sing-song, under his breath and held out one arm. One of the birds that had been flying by turned and landed on his wrist, and Arcana gave it a piece of bread from the small pouch he wore at his waist. The bird ate the offered treat and departed—Arcana watched it go, then turned back to his much larger Autobot companion.

        "This is not the world you believe it to be, Brainstorm. Look at me, for instance—I was once lauded as the greatest scientific mind this world had ever had the pleasure to give birth to. I am responsible for the energy shield which now protects our planet from any attack, and for the unique technologies which read thought patterns and allow my people to control machines with their minds. Mine has been a long, eventful lifetime.

        "And yet, after my most stunning successes, I decided to look into avenues of research long since abandoned. Natural sciences, archaic sciences—alchemy, magic, psychology, astrology, and the like. Vast, unexplored vistas which quite possibly held the keys to the future of not only Nebulos, but the rest of the universe, as well. The ultimate fusion of history and science!"

        Arcana shook his head. "I was labeled a fool. My staunchest supporters became my harshest critics. I was spat at in the streets, called a crackpot and a lunatic. To this day, they believe these things of me. Although my successful prediction of your arrival has quieted them, it does not keep them from whispering. Whispering just loud enough for me to hear."

        "Why do you stay?" Brainstorm asked, surprised at the pain in Arcana’s voice. He had never known this about Arcana—he had always assumed, since Arcana had been the first to find their crash site, that he was the only person on Nebulos gifted with the high honorary title of Doctor, that he was such a great thinker on a world of scientists, that Arcana was highly respected. This new information changed everything about what he thought of Nebulos. Yes, it was a beautiful and peaceful place—but it obviously wasn’t the haven for research that he had thought it was.

        Arcana glanced at Brainstorm, then back out over the valley. "I stay because it is my home, Brainstorm, no matter what else. It is home."

        Brainstorm nodded, finally understanding what Arcana was getting at. He would have come to the conclusion earlier, had he not been so surprised at Arcana’s personal revelations. He rose, looking out over the valley below. The beautiful, peaceful valley. . .

        "You are right, Doctor. Cybertron is my home, no matter how much distaste I have for the War. I should return to our shuttle, and see to finishing the repairs on it. Then, perhaps, we can return. . .home." Brainstorm savored that last word, then nodded once more to Arcana, leapt into the air, transformed, and flew off.

        Arcana watched him depart sadly. The truth of the matter was, if the Nebulan Council hadn’t banned space flight for all Nebulans, he would have left. Of course, that didn’t need to stop him. . .after all, he knew all the principles of hyperspatial physics, he knew exactly what it took to built an interstellar starship and leave Nebulos forever, to find a place where he would be accepted. . .

        But no. Nebulos was home, and he would be accepted here. Anywhere else would be meaningless. Besides that, he knew he had much to teach his fellow Nebulans—despite what they thought, he was right in studying the archaic sciences. They had much to offer him, and much to offer Nebulos—if only his people would see it!

        There would be plenty of time for that after the Autobots were gone from this world. He hated to lie to Brainstorm, to manipulate him like he had—they were very much alike, and Arcana had a great respect for the robot genius. But if what he had foreseen in the embers of his prophet-fire was true, then they had to get off this planet as quickly as possible, or they would doom all of Nebulos.
 
 

        To Chapter Twenty-Nine