Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mars

    Prowl stood in the center of what had once been Outpost Three, one of the Secret Order's five known bases. All around him were computers with wiped data, equipment that was obsolete... all in all, nothing of any note.

    They had been too late. No doubt upon hearing of what had gone down at the Floating Fortress, the Decepticons stationed here had evacuated as soon as possible, knowing the Autobots would soon be at their doorstep.

    Prowl grimaced to himself. If only they had come here a month earlier, then they would've been able to put a stop to the operations taking place here. After the defeat of the Heralds of Unicron, Prowl had approached Elita-One with the information recovered from Outpost One, the Secret Order's presence here on Mars being among it. However, Elita had larger concerns at the time, mainly regarding the whereabouts of Optimus Prime, and had Prowl postpone any endeavors concerning Outpost Three in favor of searching for Prime.

    Well, a month had now passed. Optimus Prime was still missing and Mars had been abandoned. No progress had been made in either respect.

    Prowl clenched his fist in anger. On the one hand, he shouldn't have been mad at Elita for prioritizing Optimus over all else. Not only was he their leader, but he was also Elita's sparkmate. It was only natural she would be concerned for him more than anything.

    But at the same time, Prowl did not believe that one should let one's feelings for another get in the way of what needed to be done. He himself had made that mistake once, and he regretted it still to this day.

    The mission came first. Everything and everyone else would have to wait.

    Unfortunately, Prowl realized, not everyone shared that belief. In fact, in the past seven months, he had seen more and more relationships and strong connections form where there had been none for nearly a thousand years. He wasn't necessarily opposed to it -- after all, the war was over -- but there was still a lot more work to be done. And if others intended on getting in his way....

    Prowl was broken from his thoughts when he heard someone approach him from behind. Turning around, he saw a black and gold mech standing in the doorway, arms folded over his chest.

    "Crosswise," Prowl said. "You got my call."

    "Evidently," his agent replied coolly.

    Prowl decided to let the snippy remark slide. There were more important matters at hand. "What were you able to gather on Earth?"

    "Not as much as I would have liked. All of the Machination bases I could find were abandoned. All data on their computers were either wiped or corrupted. Say what you will about humans, but they know how to cover their tracks."

    "Not unlike the Secret Order," Prowl muttered with a grimace. "Were you able to find anything of note?"

    Crosswise hesitated. "Nothing... concrete. I did come across some hidden labs with some... interesting equipment."

    "Such as...?"

    "Like, organic materials. Wood, bark, even tissue...."

    Prowl raised an optic. "At a Machination lab? Why would they have those materials if they were trying to replicate us?"

    Crosswise shrugged. "Beats me. I couldn't find much more beyond that."

    "Interesting." Rubbing his chin, Prowl looked around the deserted room. Could Scorponok have some connection to the Secret Order? He had been the only Herald absent at the Fortress on Nimbus. Did the Order's hand reach as far enough as Earth and all that had went down there?

    Perhaps there was more to this than he had realized.

    Turning back to Crosswise, he said, "Continue your investigations on Earth but be prepared for future orders. I need to sort this out before I can even begin to figure out where to go from here."

    "How can we go anywhere from here?" Crosswise asked. "We don't have any leads."

    "Maybe not. But sometimes, in order to go forward... you have to take a few steps back."

THE GREATER GOOD

Part 1: Practice to Deceive

The Lost Light

    "Feeling better?"

    Dion rubbed his head as he laid on the slab near Rung's chair. "Define 'better.'"

    "Are you composed enough to endure this session?"

    "Yeah. In that case, yeah. I'm fine."

    Rung reached down and produced a datapad, crossing his legs as he sat back. "I must admit, I was more than a little surprised when you asked me for an appointment. For the past few days, you had seemed more or less level-headed."

    "The more crazy or troubled someone is, the better they are at hiding it." Dion sighed as he started up at the ceiling. "Skids told you everything, right? About my time-traveling... shenanigans and how I was someone else completely for a time."

    "Yes, he did. I can see how all that could take its toll on someone."

    "For a time, it did," Dion said. "But I was able to find help on Earth and, after over a hundred years, it was no longer an issue for me. I had found a new home, a new life, on Earth."

    "And then you were given the mission."

    "Yeah." Dion revved slightly. "I had already learned that Optronix had become Megatron long beforehand, so I was already over it... somewhat. The fact that I wasn't being sent to kill him made it easier for me to accept the task. Otherwise...."

    Rung jotted down a few notes on his datapad. "How long did you know Optronix before the... incident?"

    Dion was silent for a moment, not once so much as glancing at Rung. Finally, he said, "I first met him at the academy ten years before my 'abduction.' I had already heard of him beforehand, since he had already made quite the name for himself by the time I came online. From day one, I had always been... I had always idolized him."

    "How did your meeting with him go? What did he say to you?"

    "He told me he was impressed by my skills and that I was a shoo-in for the Elite Guard. A few months later, he was proven right." Dion thought for a moment. "I wonder if he had pulled some strings."

    "Optronix had certainly become the Elite Guard's poster bot by then," Rung murmured. "So how did you come to fall under his command?"

    Dion shrugged. "It just kind of happened. My previous commanders sort of came and went and before I knew it, I was working with him."

    "You never requested to work with him?"

    "No," Dion said quietly. "Well, maybe once, but... I don't know. Not sure if I remember. Those days have started to become a blur."

    "I see." Rung was silent for a moment as he wrote down on his datapad again. He then looked back at Dion, adjusting his glasses. "Now, I'm going to ask a very personal question... please keep in mind that I maintain a duty of care towards my patients. Anything you say to me will be between us."

    Dion turned his head to the psychiatrist. "You're scaring me, Doc. Just go ahead and get it over with."

    "I trust you to give me an honest, truthful answer."

    "Yeah, sure. Shoot."

    "Did you ever have feelings for Optronix?"

    Dion blinked. "Pardon?"

    "Did you ever feel a... stronger connection between the two of you?"

    The orange and blue bot slowly sat up. "Why... how is this relevant?"

    Rung sighed. "I'm simply trying to understand your relationship with him. Then I'll know how to proceed."

    Dion frowned. "I don't think that's anything I'd be willing to divulge."

    "You realize that, by avoiding the question, you're simultaneously answering it. If you had no feelings, you wouldn't be acting this way."

    Dion said nothing at first, continuing to stare at Rung. Then he said, "Let's say I said yes. Yes, I did have feelings for him. What would you ask next?"

    "I would then ask if you still had feelings."

    "And if I said yes?"

    "Then that would be the end of today's session, since we're out of time." Uncrossing his legs, Rung rose from his seat. "If you wish to continue this, just let me know. My door is open to all. Just try not to consume too much engex before arriving... or at the very least, activate your fuel intake moderation chip."

    "Right. Sure." Standing up as well, Dion turned to leave only to stop as he reached the door. Looking over his shoulder, he said, "I just have one question--"

    "Our session is over, Dion," Rung said. "Save it for--"

    "It doesn't concern me. I was just wondering... Skids told me that WALL-E and EVE had a hand in Megatron's creation."

    "Yes...?"

    "Is that true or was he just pulling my leg?"

    Rung hesitated for a brief moment. "There is some truth to it, yes. You can ask him to elaborate for you."

    "And... does he know? Does Megatron...?"

    "No. No, he does not."

    Dion nodded. "All right. Thanks."

    Rung raised an eyebrow. "You're not planning on telling him yourself, are you?"

    Dion chuckled. "No. Of course not. Don't be ridiculous." With that, he walked out the door, leaving behind an unconvinced Rung.

*  *  *

    "I'm sorry, could you please repeat that?"

    "I want to go back to Necroworld," Nightbeat said.

    Rodimus nodded, still carving into his desk. "Uh-huh. That's what I thought you said. I was thinking maybe you said we need to go back to Necroworld, like it was important or something, but no, it's just you wanting to go back there."

    "Well, it is important."

    "How?" Rodimus asked, looking up at the detective. "We've already been there and there was nothing there of importance. Why would you want to go back there?"

    "I need to find out more about the Thirteen."

    "The Thirteen?" Rodimus retracted his knife back into his arm. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but last time I checked, we were searching for the Knights of Cybertron."

    "We are," Nightbeat said. "But after them, the Thirteen are the oldest known generation of Cybertronians. The more we learn about them, the closer we get to the Knights."

    "And you think we'd find something on Necroworld?"

    "I believe Censere -- the Necrobot -- is from the same period as the Thirteen. He has a database of every Transformer in existence. The myth that he's spawned has been retold for many millennia. He's clearly as old as the stars."

    Rodimus mulled over this for a moment. "You raise a fair point," he said. "When we first met, I did consider asking him a few things, but... with all of the stuff that was happening at the time..."

    Nightbeat nodded. "Right. Understandable. But now that we're back on track...."

    Rodimus sighed. "I don't know, Nightbeat. We've been making a lot of pointless detours as of late. If we make another, Ultra Magnus will probably give me another one of his lectures."

    "This won't be pointless, Rodimus. I swear it. Even if Censere isn't willing to open up, I'll find a way to get him talking."

    "That sounds... ominous."

    "I'm a detective, Rodimus. I have my ways."

    "Right." Rodimus considered the proposition for a minute before finally nodding. "All right. Necroworld it is. I just hope you're hunch is right."

    Nightbeat grinned. "Of course it is. I wouldn't be a good detective if--"

    "All right, all right, I get it," Rodimus muttered, rising from his desk. "Sheesh, no wonder Hardhead decided to stay behind...."

The Lost Light

    "I'm just saying: 'Club Con' would make for a really good name."

    "No, it wouldn't," Octane muttered, resting his head on his hand as he drank his engex. "That's got to be the stupidest name I've ever heard."

    Blitzwing sneered. "Oh, yeah? What would you suggest instead?"

    "Nothing. We don't need a name."

    "Yeah, we do!" Blitzwing exclaimed, gesturing to the both of them. "We're the token two Decepticons on the ship! This is the opportunity to start an act!"

    Octane looked impartial to the suggestion. "An act? Like, what, a comedy act?"

    "No, like... like...." Blitzwing gesticulated meaninglessly with his hands. "Like a gang! A club!"

    "But there's only two of us."

    "We'll recruit others into our group!"

    "What others?" Octane asked. "You just said we're the token two Decepticons."

    Blitzwing frowned. "Weren't there others at the speech Megatron gave when he returned?"

    "Yeah, but they all ended up going back to Cybertron or whatever. You and I were the only ones to join the crew -- besides Megatron, of course." Octane gave the other Triple Changer a look. "Seriously, it's been a month and you're just now realizing this?"

    "I've been... preoccupied, I guess," Blitzwing muttered. He looked around the bar, predominantly occupied by Autobots. Across the room, sitting alone in another booth, was a purple and black bot who bore a striking resemblance to Megatron. He wore a Decepticon insignia on his chest.

    "What about that guy?" Blitzwing whispered, pointing at the lookalike.

    Octane looked over at the mech. "Archforce? What about him?"

    "Well, isn't he a Decepticon? We can ask him to join."

    "And make the Autobots suspicious of us hanging out with a Megatron clone?"

    "Well, if they're fine with having the real deal on board--"

    Octane shook his head. "They're not, Blitz. They're so definitely not. Have you seen the looks they give him? That they give us?"

    "Hence why we should all stick together!" Blitzwing said.

    "Look, if you want to hang out with him, fine," Octane said, getting up from his seat. "But the last thing I want to do is to cause any trouble -- or at least, more trouble than we're already causing by just being here."

    Blitzwing scowled. "If you're that paranoid, why didn't you just go back to Cybertron with the others? What are you even doing here?"

    "What are you doing here?" Octane shot back.

    Blitzwing frowned. "You know why I'm here. I have a condition, and the Decepticon Empire doesn't exactly offer much care for things like that. What's here for you that you can't get anywhere else?"

    "A place to belong," Octane replied, leaving before Blitzwing could say anything else.

*  *  *

    "So. Necroworld."

    "If you have any objections, say them now and just get them over with," Rodimus said, settling in the command chair. "Nightbeat has a hunch, and I'm willing to trust him on this one."

    "No, no, I understand that," Ultra Magnus said, standing at his usual place at Rodimus' side. "For once, we're in agreement on this. I certainly got a similar impression from Censere when we met him. I'm just not sure if this is worth a call."

    "A call?" Rodimus raised an optical ridge at him. "What do you mean?"

    "Megatron asked me to radio him when we got somewhere worthwhile. I'm not sure if this counts."

    "Not sure if what counts?"

    Both Autobots tensed as they heard Megatron enter the bridge. Ultra Magnus turned around to face the former Decepticon leader, head tilted quizzically.

    "I thought you were going to wait until I called you."

    "I was," Megatron growled. "But I started having pains in my chest, so I decided to try and walk it off."

    "Have you seen Ratchet about it?"

    "He said it's likely a remnant of the wound I received from Tarn. It'll be some time before it heals completely."

    "I see." Magnus still looked doubtful of Megatron's explanation but moved on from the subject. "Anyway, we're going to Necroworld."

    It was Megatron's turn to look confused. "Necroworld?"

    "Well, that's what Rodimus likes to call it. It's home to the Necrobot, Censere."

    "...I'm sorry, did I hear you correctly? Did you just say--"

    "Yes, the Necrobot exists," Rodimus said, waving his hand dismissively. "He's a real bot. Kind of cryptic and vague, but real. We think he might know things about the ancient Primes and the Knights of Cybertron."

    "Ah," Megatron said, absently rubbing his chest. "So you're going off of a hunch and nothing else."

    "Finally, you're starting to get it."

    Ultra Magnus looked back at Megatron, noticing his discomfort. "Are you sure you're all right? Do you need to rest?"

    Megatron glared at him. "Why do you care?"

    "Yeah." Rodimus looked up at his first mate. "Why do you care?"

    "I'm simply asking, because you don't look like you're in any condition--"

    "I said I'm fine," Megatron snapped. "Let's just... focus on the mission."

    Deciding not to press the matter further, Magnus turned back to Rodimus. "So, are you going down to meet with Censere?"

    "Probably, just so there's someone else to ask non-Prime related questions. Nightbeat can have a bit of a one-track mind."

    "Is anyone else going?"

    Rodimus shrugged. "It's his call. I imagine Rewind will probably go down to record stuff, and Chromedome is sure to go with him."

    "We're nearing Necroworld, captain," Mainframe said from the ship's controls.

    Before Rodimus could respond, Megatron suddenly lurched forward, clutching his chest. His optics widened as his mouth opened in silent agony.

    "Okay, now I'm concerned," Rodimus said, getting up. "Somebody get him to Ratchet."

    "I'm fine," Megatron croaked.

    "You're clearly not. Look, I may hate you, but the last thing I want is someone dying on my ship." Rodimus looked over to Ultra Magnus. "Help me out here, will ya?"

    Magnus moved to help the former Decepticon leader only to stop when he noticed Mainframe was suddenly acting distressed.

    "What's wrong?" he asked the pilot.

    "Something's obstructing our path," Mainframe replied. "Can't tell if it's another ship or--"

    At that moment, the Lost Light emerged from hyperspace and came bow-to-bow with a massive vessel, one that looked more like a flying city rather than a ship.

    "...or a Titan."

    "Pull up!" Rodimus cried.

    With great effort, the Lost Light avoided crashing into the Titan as it grinded to a halt. Artifitical gravity generators prevented the ship from flying off, forcing it to touch down in the mobile city. Once everything had settled, Rodimus looked back to Mainframe.

    "Status report."

    "All good. Some scratches on the hull, but nothing critical."

    "Life signs?"

    "None that I can... wait." Mainframe leaned over his monitor. "There's at least... three spark signatures approaching. Maybe four."

    "Look out there." Ultra Magnus pointed out the viewport. "I see a jet and a... is that dragon?"

    "A two-headed dragon," Rodimus corrected. "And I see someone else on that jet. Someone red and blue--"

    Without warning, Megatron fell to his knees, hand on his chest. He grunted something under his breath, prompting Rodimus to look at him.

    "What did you say?"

    "Prime," Megatron snarled. "It's Optimus Prime."

Metrotitan

    "You recognize this ship?" Sixknight asked as he, Optimus Prime and the twin-headed dragon landed in front of the docked Lost Light.

    "Not only do I recognize it, but I've been on it," Optimus said. "My sparkmate Elita-One commanded it while in search of my own crew and I. After Unicron was defeated, she gave it to an Autobot named Rodimus for his quest for Cyberutopia."

    "Cyberutopia, eh?" Sixknight said, rubbing his chin. "An admirable endeavor, for sure."

    "More like pointless," Doublecross snorted. "Bunch of hoopla, that stuff is."

    "Now, now," Twinferno countered. "There's no harm in trying to discover the undiscovered."

    Raising a hand to his comm, Optimus attempted to hail the Lost Light. "Rodimus? Do you read me? It's--"

    Just then, the ship's ramp lowered in front of the trio. Standing there, grin as wide as his face, was Rodimus, in all his flame-decoed glory.

    "Optimus Prime!" The captain of the Lost Light waved to the Autobot leader. "Long time no see! How you doing?"

    Optimus allowed himself a smile via his optics. "I've been better. It's good to see you as well. How goes your quest?"

    "Still going!" Rodimus replied. "We're making progress! Slowly but surely! Some bumps in the road, but hey, that's the way of things! You know what I'm saying?"

    "Right. May we come aboard?"

    "Of course! Sure thing! Who are your friends?"

    "Sixknight, Doublecross and Twinferno," Optimus said, gesturing to each of his companions. "The latter two are conjoined twins, from my understanding. Bit of a long story."

    "Hey, no worries! Plenty of time to swap tales." Rodimus motioned them all to come on board. "We have a bar where you can all rest and relax."

    "A bar?" Sixknight looked to Optimus. "Is that a new thing?"

    "No, actually," Optimus murmured, stepping onto the ramp. "Believe it or not, I don't think anything's changed since I left."

*  *  *

    "How is he?"

    "No better than when you brought him here," Ratchet said, standing over a suffering Megatron. "He won't let me examine him, so I can't even tell you what's wrong with him."

    Ultra Magnus frowned as he looked over to Megatron. The Decepticon's hands were firmly clutching his chest, as if trying to keep something from bursting out... or to keep Ratchet from looking in.

    "Megatron," Magnus intoned. "Let Ratchet look at you."

    "I have to see Optimus Prime," Megatron gritted out.

    Magnus shook his head. "We can't let you. Not yet. As far as he knows, you're as good as dead. If you were to go to him now--"

    "Wait a minute," Ratchet said, stepping closer to Megatron. "Your chest is glowing."

    Megatron glared at the medic. "Don't come any closer."

    Fed up with the Decepticon's evasive nature, Ultra Magnus stormed forward and grabbed both of Megatron's hands, wrenching them off of his chest. As the Decepticon cried out in protest, Ratchet pulled open his chestplate... and gawked at what he saw within.

    "By the Matrix," he muttered.

    "Yes," Magnus murmured, staring as well. "Funnily enough."

*  *  *

    Optimus had not realized how long it had been since he had last refueled. Engex had never been his favorite -- too strong for his tastes -- but today he was making an exception.

    As he drank, he listened to Rodimus' account of the Lost Light's travels, exchanging details of his own mishaps. As they caught each other up on recent events -- from time-traveling to Monstercons, clones and Titans to Secret Orders, and finally more time-traveling and Titans -- Optimus couldn't help but feel that Rodimus was withholding some details. He acted particularly shifty when it came to the events at the Floating Fortress and afterwards, especially when he brought up the time-traveling Dion without much explanation. Whenever Optimus tried to ask for further elaboration, Rodimus changed the subject.

    "So!" the flame-decoed bot said, leaning back in his seat. "What brings you to Necroworld?"

    "Necroworld?" Optimus asked.

    "I just told you about it, didn't I? Home to the Necrobot."

    "Yes, but...." Optimus frowned. "It was not our intention to come here. We were trying to get to Cybertron."

    "Really? Huh."

    Rodimus fell silent after that, twirling his empty glass with his finger. Optimus stared at him, intent on getting whatever it was the younger Autobot was not telling him.

    "What else happened at the Floating Fortress?" he asked.

    "I already told you everything," Rodimus said, not meeting his gaze.

    "Did you? How exactly did you stop the Heralds of Unicron and their plans?"

    Rodimus sighed, straightening in his seat. "Okay. I'm gonna drop a bombshell on you. Whatever you do, don't freak out."

    "I've already been through a lot, Rodimus," Optimus said, raising his glass. "It would take a lot to surprise me at this point."

    "Megatron's alive."

    The glass fell from Optimus' hand, shattering on the table. All heads turned as the Prime gripped onto the edge for support.

    "What... did you say?" Optimus' voice shook as he spoke.

    "I don't exactly know how he came back," Rodimus went on. "Apparently he was trapped in this dimension with Unicron, so when the Heralds activated their portal...."

    "And you let him on board?"

    "I... I didn't say that."

    "You did, didn't you?" Optimus muttered. "That's why you've been acting so evasive. Because he's here."

    "He wants to help us find the Knights," Rodimus said. "He wants them to judge him for his crimes. To give him retribution."

    "Retribution."

    Rodimus glanced down at the indents Optimus was making into the table. "You're... you're really not taking this well, are you?"

    "He wants retribution." Optimus heard the words in his voice, but it was not his mind that was making them. "I'll deliver him retribution."

    The last thing Optimus remembered seeing was Rodimus' horrified face as he flipped the table.

*  *  *

    Ultra Magnus heard the crash from the bar before he had even turned the corner. Before he knew it, he was standing before a dark replica of Optimus Prime, red and blue having turned to black and teal.

    "Optimus?" Magnus asked.

    "Close." Lunging forward, the dark Prime produced an axe and struck Magnus across the face with it, knocking him to the ground.

    Pressing ahead, Prime stalked the corridors of the Lost Light, walking past shocked and terrified Autobots. He eventually made his way to the medbay, where he found the object of his rage, guarded by a pair of medics.

    "Prime?" Ratchet grimaced upon seeing the deco his leader now sported. "No...."

    "Step aside, doctor," Nemesis Prime growled, gripping his axe. "This does not concern you."

    "Optimus, it's the Scourge virus taking over again!" Ratchet cried at the advancing Nemesis. "You've fought it off before! Surely you can--"

    The medic was cut off as Nemesis hoisted him up and threw him into Velocity, knocking them both down. This left him face-to-face with the once-sworn enemy of Optimus Prime, laying vulnerable on the medical slab.

    "Prime," Megatron muttered.

    "Megatron," Nemesis Prime chuckled. "I have waited an eternity for this." He raised his axe over his head, red optics blazing with hate. "It's over, brother."

The Lost Light

   Megatron had barely rolled away in time as Nemesis Prime brought down the axe, hitting the spot on the bench where the Decepticons' head had once been. Optics flaring, Nemesis reoriented himself as Megatron stumbled towards the door.

    "Running away, are we?" the dark Prime said, storming towards Megatron. "Did you leave your ball bearings behind when you came back?"

    "Optimus, listen to me," Megatron replied, hand over his chest. "You have to fight it. You can't let Nemesis take over--"

    "Then why did you make me?" Nemesis roared, swinging his axe at Megatron. It struck the Decepticon in his midsection and he staggered out of the medbay, backing up against the wall.

    "You created me to lead your Warriors Elite," Nemesis went on, tightening his grip around his axe. "I was to be the face of the Decepticon Army; the enforce of your rule. And this... this how you treeat me?"

    "I only created you because I knew Orion would never join me willingly," Megatron replied. "It was the only way to bring him to my side."

    Nemesis stopped, his optics boring into Megatron's. "Why Orion then? Would such an effort not be better used on a strong Autobot, like Ultra Magnus or Thunderclash?"

    "Perhaps. But here's the thing."

    Without warning, Megatron sprung forward and tackled Nemesis to the floor, pinning him there. The dark Prime's axe fell out of his hand and Megatron kicked it out of reach.

    "Neither of them are my brother."

    "Your brother is gone!" Nemesis Prime growled, struggling against his assailant. "You cannot get rid of me without killing him as well!"

    "I can, actually." Lifting a hand, Megatron extended a small needle from his finger. "You're a virus, Nemesis. And like a virus...."

    He plugged the needle into Prime's neck, eliciting a cry of protest.

    "...You can be transferred."

    Nemesis' screams slowly died out as his programming was uploaded into Megaton's processor. The Decepticon's red optics briefly flashed purple while the Prime's black colors returned to red and blue. Once Optimus Prime had been fully restored, Megatron retracted the needle back into his hand and helped his brother back to his feet.

    "Better?" the former Decepticon leader asked.

    Optimus groaned as he rubbed his neck. "Ugh. What... happened...?" He stopped when he noticed Megatron standing in front of him. "You."

    "Me. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

    Before Oprimus could answer, Ratchet approached the brothers, having recovered from Nemesis' assault. "What did you do?" the medic asked Megatron. "To Nemesis. Where is he?"

    "Right here." Megatron tapped his temple. "I've transferred him from Optimus' processor into mine."

    Both Ratchet and Optimus tensed at this. "Will he...?" the latter began.

    Megatron shook his head. "I created him. I know how to keep him at bay."

    "And you can't purge him from your systems?" Ratchet asked.

    "Not without killing myself in the process."

    "I see." Ratchet looked between the two brothers, feeling the awkward tension. From around the corner came Rodimus and Ultra Magnus, along with a security detail led by Red Alert.

    "Nobody move!" Magnus ordered, raising his gun.

    Optimus held up his hands. "Relax, old friend. I'm all right. Megatron's--"

    "You." Magnus pointed to the ex-despot. "Show Prime what you're carrying."

    Optimus arched an optical ridge as he turned to his brother. "Show me what?"

    Megatron sighed but said nothing as he opened his chestplate. There, within the crevice that would have held his spark chamber, was a glowing crystal sphere held withing a twin-handled container.

    The Matrix of Leadership.

    Optimus' optics went wide. "How...?"

    "I don't know how," Megatron said quietly. "It's been with me since I reawakened. All I know is that it's the one thing keeping me alive."

    "You mean...?"

    "If I remove it, I will die."

    Everyone was silent as they all stared at the Matrix, looking from it to Optimus. As they all waited for the Prime to speak, Rodimus suddenly received a call from the bridge.

    "What's up, Mainframe?" he asked, putting the pilot on speaker for everyone else to hear.

    "We're detecting another vessel emerging from hyperspace," Mainframe replied. "A very large one."

    "Like, Titan sized?"

    "Pretty much, yeah."

    Rodimus grimaced. "I'll be there right away." Ending the call, he returned his attention to Optimus and Megatron. "This Matrix business can wait. We've got bigger things to worry about."

    "Agreed," Megatron said, closing up his chestplate. "This can wait."

    Optimus continue to eye his brother for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Let's go."

*  *  *

    "Sorry I'm late," Skids said as he stepped into Que's lab. "I was visiting Ariel and Rampage."

    "I see," Que said, not looking up from the weapon he was tinkering with. "You've grown close to those two, have you?"

    "Well, to Ariel, yeah." Skids rubbed the back of his head. "Rampage is a different story... I mean, he's okay when he's not acting bloodthirsty... but he's kind of always acting bloodthirsty."

    "Uh-huh. Close the door, will you?"

    Skids did so before turning back to the inventor. "What's up, Que?"

    The blue Autobot sighed as he set down his tools and steepled his fingers. "I've received orders from Prowl. You're not going to like them."

    Skids grimaced. "Since when have I ever liked them. What is it?"

    "Prowl has increased his efforts in investigating the Secret Order," Que began to explain. "He is aware that Quickswitch is involved with the Secret Order and that he was once Ariel's commanding officer."

    Skids slowly nodded. He had learned all of this from Rung and Ariel herself. "Yes, and...?"

    "Prowl suspects she is tied to the Secret Order. As such, he has ordered that we dig into her memories to uncover what we can."

    "You mean... mnemosurgery?"

    "If we can get Chromedome to help us, then yes. If not, I have a device that can--"

    "No." Skids shook his head. "I refuse."

    Que blinked at him. "What?"

    "You can't do something like that to a bot like her," Skids said. "You've seen her. She's the most innocent bot you'd ever meet. To use her like that is just... it's...."

    "It's not like we'd be using shadowplay on her," Que said. "We'd only be searching her memories."

    "Trust me, Que, I've experienced mnemosurgery firsthand. It's not a fun experience."

    Que stared at the agent, his long-time partner. "You've been a field agent for over two hundred years," he murmured. "Not once have I ever heard you refuse to obey an order."

    "There's a first time for everything," Skids replied, crossing his arms.

    Que's hand drifted down, disappearing under his table. "Please... at least reconsider...."

    Skids noticed what the inventor was doing and he frowned. "Really, Que? After everything we've been through?"

    "You know the price for disobedience," Que murmured. "It's something all agents understand and agree to when they join. Don't tell me you expected a different outcome."

    "The war's over, Que. Things have changed. Surely even Prowl realizes that."

    "The war may be over, but the mission is not." Que's hand found the deactivation button. He began to apply pressure. "This is your last chance."

    Skids said nothing, remaining rooted in place. Behind him, the door opened and a bullet shot past his head. It hit Que square in the face and the inventor fell to the floor....

    Mainframe's calculations had been way off the mark.

    While there was a Titan-sized vessel emerging from hyperspace, it had not come alone. An entire fleet of ships accompanied the Titan, flanking it from all sides in an armada-like formation. The larger ship's size must have prevented the Lost Light's sensors from picking up the others.

    Either way, it was hardly a welcoming sight.

    Optimus Prime, Rodimus, Megatron and Ultra Magnus all stood on the bow of Metrotitan as the entourage of ships flew over them, bound for the Necrobot's planet. Only the Titan lingered behind; whether by choice or because of its slower speed, it was difficult to discern.

    Rodimus' brow furrowed as he watched the Titan, which bore a dark blue and red color scheme not unlike Metrotitan's. "You think they've spotted us?"

    "They must have," said Magnus. "We're not exactly hard to miss."

    Rodimus raised a line to the Lost Light. "Blaster, are you picking up any frequencies?"

    "None, captain," came Blaster's response. "They're as quiet as a nanoflea."

    "I wonder what it is they want with the Necrobot," Optimus pondered aloud. "From the sounds of it, he wasn't keeping anything of note."

    "That we know of." Rodimus turned to Magnus. "Take a team down to Necroworld. Find out where they're headed."

    "Without them spotting us?" Magnus asked.

    "I've had Brainstorm fit one of our shuttles with a cloaking shield. It'll last at least one hour; should be enough for you to scout out and land if need be."

    "And you?"

    "I'll stay here to see what this Titan does," Rodimus said. "I'll radio you in case something happens."

    Magnus stared at him for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Be careful."

    Rodimus smirked. "Hey, I've got Optimus Prime and Megatron at my side. I'll be fine."

    Magnus nodded again as he turned to leave, giving a quick salute to Prime and a warning look to Megatron. Transforming to his truck mode, the larger Autobot drove back to the Lost Light.

*  *  *

    "Getaway?" Skids stared at the white and blue Autobot as he walked over to the unconscious Que. "How did you know...?"

    "I received the same orders," Getaway said, hoisting Que off the floor. "Que had just briefed me before he called for you."

    "Why would you be involved though? I'm the one who's close to Ariel."

    "Ariel, yes, but not Rampage." Getaway situated Que to be slumped over his desk. "I was tasked to handle Rampage while you took care of Ariel."

    "Oh." Skids frowned as he stared at the motionless inventor. "Why didn't you shoot him when he briefed you then?"

    "I didn't have my nudge gun on me. I had to go get it."

    "What?" Skids looked bewildered at his fellow agent. "But you always carry that thing with you."

    Getaway waved off the inquiry. "Never mind that. When Que wakes up, he'll have forgotten Prowl's order and him ever briefing us."

    "And when Prowl calls back for a progress report or something?"

    "We'll figure that out later. Right now--" Getaway was cut off by a call on his comm, one Skids received as well. Both agents answered to the sound of Ultra Magnus' voice.

    "Hangar bay. Now."

    Exchanging a brief glance, both Skids and Getaway quickly transformed and sped out of the lab, leaving Que behind.

*  *  *

    "Where are we going, brother?"

    Rampage did not answer Ariel as he led her to the hangar bay. He would stop on occasion whenever he saw someone walk towards them, hiding himself and Ariel from view or pretending to be headed somewhere else. Then he would resume their journey.

    He knew that, if anyone realized where he and his sister were heading, they would try to stop them and Rampage would be forced to kill them... and Aril would have been upset by that. He hated making her upset.

    They eventually made their way to the hangar bay, where they found a crowd of nine or so bots boarding one of the shuttles. He saw Skids among them, which piqued his curiosity, but there was no time to worry about that. Taking Ariel by the hand, he led her towards another ship: the one in which he had arrived less than a month ago.

    The protoforms it had once carried had long since been taken to Cybertron by the Autobots and the ship had also been cleaned of any corpses Rampage might have made while taking control of it. Now it was just an ordinary ship. An ordinary ship with a special clearance code from the Secret Order.

    Boarding the ship, Rampage guided Ariel to the passenger's seat while he settled at the controls. He waited until the Lost Lighters' shuttle had departed before starting the ship up.

    "Where are we going, brother?" Ariel asked again, her voice so quiet, so innocent, it pained his spark.

    "Home," he croaked, flipping the last few switches. "Sweet, sweet home."

*  *  *

    For many millennia, the planet of the fabled Necrobot had gone undiscovered. Save for one incident over a hundred years ago, Censere of the High-Ceilinged Manifold had gone largely undisturbed.

    In the span of less than a month, that had all changed.

    From his fortress, Censere watched as several ships surrounded his domain, crushing many of the flowers he had planted the world with. From one of the ships, he could see a large mech in blue and red disembark, making sure strides towards Censere's fortress.

    Closing the door behind him, the Necrobot stood tall as the visitor quickly closed the gap between them, coming to loom over the ancient mech.

    "So," the larger bot said, eyeing Censere with curiosity. "The myths are indeed true. The Necrobot exists."

    "Hello, Delta Magnus," Censere calmly replied.

    Delta Magnus smirked. "You know who I am?"

    "I know who you claim to be. No amount of armor can hide you from me, Powerdrive of Iacon."

    The Autobot's expression darkened as he scowled at Censere. "You are fortunate no one else was around to hear that, old fossil."

    Censere shrugged dismissively. "What brings you here then? I doubt you'd gather this large a party to meet an 'old fossil' such as myself."

    "We wish to establish operations here," Delta Magnus explained. "Its remoteness matched our requirements so that we may proceed in isolation."

    "How did you come across my world in the first place?"

    "A late friend of mine -- Quickswitch -- discovered it some time ago while on a scouting mission. We've been keeping tabs on it ever since."

    Censere nodded. "Ah, yes. Quickswitch of Hexadron. I noticed his spark signature had gone out. I was just about to record his fatality when you showed up."

    Delta Magnus raised an optical ridge. "It's true then that you are able to keep track of every living Transformer?"

    "Believe what you want. I am under no obligation to divulge such information."

   "A shame. Such technology would be very useful for the Secret Order."

    Censere narrowed his optics. "What makes you think I'm going to allow your Order to settle down on my planet?"

    "Oh, I'm sorry," Delta Magnus said. "I seem to have given you the impression that you have a say in the matter."

    The Autobot raised his arm, retracting his hand and replacing it with a gun, and aimed it at Censere's face.

    "You don't."

    The mysterious Titan had indeed noticed its counterpart, as it came to dock alongside Metrotitan. Rodimus, Optimus Prime, and Megatron stood by and watched as a hatch opened in the other Titan and a group of five bots emerged. As they approached, Optimus frowned as he adjusted his optical sensors.

    "I recognize these bots," he murmured.

    Megatron grimaced. "It's the Combaticons."

    "Great," Rodimus grunted. "More Decepticons. Just what we needed."

    As the Decepticon quintet got closer, their leader -- a tall mech in blue-gray and olivedrab armor -- noticeably halted upon seeing Megatron and Optimus Prime, standing side by side. The other Comabticons drew their weapons but Onslaught held them off from firing.

    "Lord Megatron," he began, glancing between the two life-long enemies. "I... see you are in good health."

    "Indeed." Megatron eyed his former general. "Were you not informed of my return?"

    "Oh no, we were all made aware," Onslaught said. "I was simply not expecting to find you here, on a Titan, alongside Optimus Prime."

    Megatron smirked. "Neither was I expecting to see the five of you here, with a Titan of your own. For such a mythical lost race, they certainly are easy to find these days."

    "Indeed," Onslaught echoed, still looking wary. "You're probably wondering why we're here."

    "Oh, I think I can piece it together. You're with the Secret Order, aren't you?"

    All five Combaticons tensed. "How did you know?" their leader asked.

    "My friend Soundblaster was most helpful in that regard," Megatron explained. "He showed me recordings of a meeting with my clone, which you were present for. He also provided me with quite a few details about your little organization."

    Rodimus glanced at him. "You never told me about any of that."

    Megatron waved him off. "So tell me, Onslaught," he snarled, glaring at the Combaticon. "Just how long has this been going on? How long have you all been plotting behind my back?"

    For a while, none of the Combaticons spoke. When someone did break the silence, it was not Onslaught or any of his bots that did so, nor was it Megatron or either of his two Autobot companions.

    It was a small purple robot that emerged from behind Onslaught's right shoulder, its single yellow optics glowing from a featureless face.

    Megatron, Optimus and Rodimus all moved with a start. "Shockwave?"

    The Decepticon scientist did nothing to acknowledge his former leader. Instead, he spoke to address the five Combaticons. 

    "It is time to put a millennia's worth of progress to the test. Combaticons...."

    Swindle and Brawl moved ahead of the group while Vortex and Blast Off took to either side of Onslaught, who remained standing in place.

    "...combine."

    The two fliers converted to their alt modes and attached vertically to Onslaught's shoulders. As his body shifted and reformed itself, Onslaught was lifted up and pulled towards Swindle and Brawl, who had both assumed composed forms. Onslaught was lowered onto them, the bottoms of his feet fusing with pegs that had extended from their torsos. As everything locked into place, a silver chestplate folded out from what had been Onslaught's back as a new, larger head lowered itself into place.

    As Megatron and the two Autobots backed away from the newly formed giant, Shockwave converted into a gun and fell into the combiner's right hand. Straightening itself up, the gestalt loomed over its three soon-to-be targets.

    "Bruticus," the combiner rumbled, "is online."

*  *  *

    "So this is where the legendary Necrobot has been hiding all these years," Delta Magnus mused aloud as he looked around the golden interior of the late Censere's fortress. "Must say, I wasn't expecting it to look so... modern."

    All around him, his bots were going about setting up operations. One of them -- a black and red Autobot he knew as Burn Out -- had discovered a system of video cameras installed into the main computer, all connected to small cam units scattered around the planet. Had the Necrobot been that paranoid of visitors? Regardless, it was certainly a useful feature.

    "Sir!" Burn Out called to him. "I've found something."

    Delta Magnus smirked to himself as he walked over to her. Case in point. "What is it?" he asked.

    "Looks like we're not alone." Burn Out pointed to the screen, which showed nine or so Autobots situated just outside the fortress' premises. Among them was his "brother" Ultra Magnus, as well as the former Herald of Unicron Cyclonus. Delta was well aware of the part Cyclonus had played in undermining their efforts at Nimbus.

    Burn Out looked up at him as he continued to stare at the screen. "Shall I dispatch a team to deal with them?"

    "Yes, do that," Delta said, almost absent-mindedly. "Before you do... are they in range to receive any frequencies?"

    Burn Out blinked before checking. "Um, yes, they are. But I don't know why--"

    "Never mind. Just go out and deal with them, will you?"

    Nodding, Burn Out departed with haste. Taking her spot at the computer, Delta Magnus spared a moment to figure out the controls (they were awfully varied for a computer) and soon found what he was looking for. With a grin of self-satisfaction, he sent out the signal.

*  *  *

    "So much for stealth!" Trailbreaker cried out, throwing up his forcefield as assorted Autobots and Decepticons fired upon Ultra Magnus' team from the Necrobot's fortress.

    "Skids, Getaway, provide cover fire!" Magnus ordered. "Smokescreen, Hound, see if you can create a diversion. Cyclonus, Whirl, provide air support."

    Whirl moved to transform only to stop when he noticed Cyclonus was staggering. "You all right, horn-head?" the ex-Wrecker asked.

    Cyclonus simply groaned as he stepped away from the others. Magnus frowned as he looked at the former Herald. 

    "Is everything all right, Cyclonus?"

    "No," he muttered. "It most certainly isn't."

    "Sunstreaker, get him back to the--"

    "No!" Cyclonus roared as the yellow Autobot approached him. "Get away from me!"

    "Come on, pal," Sunstreaker said, laying a hand on Cyclonus' arm. "Let's get you--"

    What happened next was a blur to the naked optic. An unseen force pulled Sunstreaker closer to Cyclonus; the Autobot screamed as his body fused to the ex-Herald's arm. Next to go was Smokescreen, who was also pulled in attached to Cyclonus' other arm. The resulting monstrosity lumbered ahead and jumped onto Hound, then Trailbreaker. The latter's forcefield faded away as the giant adjusted its shape. Cyclonus' head was replaced by one far more akin to his former leader.

    "Oh," the gestalt croaked, as if speaking for the first time in millennia. "It feels good to be back."

    Ultra Magnus recognized the voice. It was one he had hoped to never hear again. "Galvatron?" he murmured.

    The combiner rumbled softly. "Hmm. That name doesn't really suit this new form as is. I require something that sounds more powerful. Something like... Galvatronus."

    "That doesn't sound powerful, that just sounds stupid," Whirl remarked.

    Galvatronus smirked. "Perhaps you're right. Shall we put it to the test?"

    With that, the gestalt raised its left arm -- the arm that had once been Sunstreaker -- and brought it down upon the Autobots.

    Rodimus couldn't remember anything that had happened in the past ten minutes. The last thing he remembered seeing was Bruicus firing Shockwave's gun form. The blast had sent him flying into space, well outside the reach of Metrotitan's gravitational generators, as well as scramble his systems.

    When he finally recovered, he saw Optimus and Megatron were faring no better. Prime laid off to the side, beaten and motionless, while a battered Megatron threw his fists at Bruticus' legs, to no avail.

    Shifting his gaze to he left, he saw several Autobots pouring out of the Lost Light, firing at the gestalt. Bruticus barely flinched at this and, swatting Megatron aside, he turned towards them and took aim with Shockwave.

    "No!" Transforming to his car mode, Rodimus kicked on his turbo boosters and used them to propel himself towards Metrotitan. After a few boosts, he fell within the Titan's pull and descended towards the combiner.

    Noticing him, Bruticus deployed a set of spinning rotor blades from his left arm (courtesy of Vortex) and held them up, ready to slice up Rodimus as soon as he came within reach.

    "No you don't!" Out of the blue, a blast of energy fired at Bruticus, knocking the combiner back. The force of the blow caused him to drop Shockwave just as Rodimus landed.

    As Sixknight transformed from his gun mode, Red Alert rushed to apprehend Shockwave before he could recover.

    "Show's over, one-eye," the security director snarled. "You've caused enough trouble."

    Rising to his feet, Shockwave regarded the advancing Autobot with an unfazed optic. "Have I?"

    Red Alert stopped, glaring down at the purple Decepticon. "You've caused us enough grief."

    "Define enough."

    Before Rodimus could stop him, Red Alert drew his gun and shot Shockwave in the face, point blank. As the Decepticon crumpled lifelessly to the floor, Rodimus stormed up to the security chief.

    "What the hell was that for?!"

    Red Alert scowled. "He deserved it."

    "We could've used him! He could've told us more about the Secret Order!" Rodimus exclaimed. "And even if he wouldn't, you can't just go killing bots like that, 'Con or not."

    "I'm sick of this," Red Alert snarled. "I'm sick of you and the leeway you give these 'Cons. First you let Megatron and his ilk on board, now you wanted me to have spared Shockwave? After all the atrocities he had caused?"

   Rodimus opened his mouth to protest only to see Bruticus was getting back on his feet. "This conversation can wait."

    "I've waited long enough!" Red Alert jabbed a finger into Rodimus' chest. "You are unfit to be our captain! As far as I'm concerned, you're just as dangerous as--"

    "Get down!" Rodimus grabbed Red Alert by the shoulders but it was too late. Bruticus lowered his shoulder cannons at the two and fired them, sending the two Autobots flying....

*  *  *

   Thanks to the clearance codes of the late Magnificus, Rampage's ship docked in the Secret Order's Titan with little trouble. Outside, two Vehicons approached the vessel, guns deployed. Rampage wasn't sure if this was standard procedure or if they were suspicious of this unexpected arrival. Either way, he would deal with them in his usual manner.

    As he rose from his seat, Ariel suddenly stood and grabbed him by the arm. "Brother, where are we?" she asked.

    "Home," Rampage said, shrugging off her hand.

    "Home?" Ariel tilted her head quizzically. "What do you mean by home?"

   Rampage said nothing as he strode over to the ship's ramp, pressing a panel to lower it. As the two Vehicons came into view, the Decepticons reacted to Rampage's appearance in alarm and pointed their guns at him.

    "Freeze!" one of them blurted out even as Rampage lunged at the trooper and nailed him to the floor. The other Vehicon stood frozen in place as he watched his partner get torn to pieces. Before he could even think to attack, Rampage set his optics on him next and proceeded to deliver him the same fate.

    Ariel looked on in horror as she watched her brother's slaughter. She had been made well aware of his violent tendancies by Skids and Rung, and had even witnessed them first hand on the Floating Fortress. But back then, she had been under threat and he was trying to protect her. Here... he was simply killing for the fun of it.

    "Brother," she said softly. She knew her pleads wouldn't do any good  -- both Vehicons were already as good as dead -- but she needed him to stop, to listen to her.

    "Brother," she said again, louder this time.

    Rampage immediately stopped in his spree but did not move from the Vehicon. He turned his head towards her. "What?"

    "Please stop."

    He blinked at her, a look of genuine puzzlement on his face. "Stop what?"

    "This." She gestured at the Vehicons, both torn to shreds. "Stop hurting people."

    His optics flashed. "They were going to hurt us."

    "You don't know that! You just... you just attacked them without... without...."

    Rampage lifted himself off his victim. "Sister, the people here are not good people. They want to hurt us."

    "But..." Ariel frowned. "But you said this was home."

    "Yes. Home." Rampage gestured widely with his arms. "We came from here. Well, not here specifically. But those responsible for our creation are here."

    Ariel's optics widened. "They are?"

    "Yes. But first, we must -- I must kill those who stand in our way. Because they don't want us here. They don't want us to find our creators."

    "Why?"

    Rampage did not answer her. Instead, he turned towards a large door up ahead. It slid open to reveal another group of Vehicons, a lot more larger in terms of number. Ahead of them was a green and brown Decepticon flier, who stopped upon seeing Rampage.

    "Oh, frag me."

    "Indeed." Mandibles clicking, Rampage charged towards the Decepticons, ignoring the Vehicons as they fired upon him.

    Ariel knew what was going to happen. She couldn't allow it. She knew what she had to do.

    Closing her optics, she opened her mouth and screamed.

*  *  *

    For the first time in over a thousand years, Mother was proud of what she had made.

    It had taken several centuries of research and experimentation, but they had finally succeeded in creating a combiner -- two, in fact. Apparently the program the Heralds had installed into Cyclonus had proven most successful. Once the interlopers had been dealt with, then they could finally proceed with operations.

    As she stared at the screen that showed Bruticus' progress, Mother was alerted to a presence in her chamber. Shifting in her apparatus, she looked down to see a purple bot standing below her.

    "Shockwave," she said. "I thought you were with Bruticus."

    "The Autobots performed an... unexpected action," Shockwave coolly replied.

    "Yes, I saw that. Fortunately, Bruticus seems to be handling himself well." She narrowed her optical sensors. "Were you at least able to retrieve them?"

    Nodding, Shockwave stepped aside to reveal Optimus Prime and Megatron, bound together by stasis cuffs. Mother's face lit up as she stared upon them for the first time in centuries.

    "They've grown up so much."

    Optimus weakly lifted his head up at her. "Who... are you?"

    "Come now, Orion." Hydra grinned. "Surely you'd recognize your own mother."

TO BE CONTINUED