The Decepticon towered over him, wielding a jagged sword and a twisted grin. The monster's optic sensors seemed to spit crimson flame, created by a passionate loathing for the hapless individual before him. Then his face began to warp and writhe, and layers of 'skin' were painfully stripped away, as if being pulled by an unimaginable force. Now a gleaming, golden, skeletal head stood on the shoulders of the deformed Decepticon, and the onlooker convulsed in terror. The Decepticons body components suddenly erupted away from him in all directions, leaving nothing but an endoskeleton, hunched and bent. The bystander tried to step away, to pull his stare from the abomination before him, but he was paralysed. Then all the Decepticons components began to hurtle towards the bystander, crushing him and heralding welcoming blackness and silence. He felt his body begin to melt into molten metal, and then trickle down a thin line of his own sub-consciousness. On either side of him was absolute oblivion. His soul faded and died.

"AAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!"

Prowl awoke violently. He felt as though he had just suffered a severe electric shock, and toppled off the chair on to the smooth surface of the floor. His optic shields were tightly closed, and small, panicked bursts of nitrogen escaped from his vocal aperture. The Autobot lay still, clinging to the floor for comfort and support. After some moments he summoned enough strength to pull himself upright and correlate his thoughts.

"Involuntary Systems Shutdown," Prowl concluded. "I'm working too hard... Still, I thought I.S.S. was a problem afflicting only the medics." Tiny droplets of fluid escaped microscopic ducts in his forehead. He sighed to himself, pondering the meaning of his 'dream', and as far as he could deduce, it had none. Was he going insane?

One moment he was working at the communications room of .Autobot City, the next he was tumbling through space towards a huge Decepticon. As far as he could recall, nothing warned him of what was about to happen except a sudden flash of intense light... Or was that just another facet of his imaginings?

His thoughts were abruptly cut short when Optimus Prime entered the room.

"Prowl - Anything to report?" Prime spoke in aa rather abrupt manner, but Prowl simply dismissed his tone - the Autobot leader had a considerable amount to cope with. After all, the Decepticons rule on Cybertron strengthened, and the plans to transform Cybertron into a cosmic juggernaut were well underway.

Prowl, after consulting the myriad instruments before him, replied: "The main cargo ship arrived at 0700 Earthen hours today. I've dispatched a small guide party to meet the crew, consisting of--"

"Spare me, Prowl - who went is unimportant. How goes it on Cybertron?"

The Autobot was rather taken aback by his friend's abrupt interruption, but swung his chair around and punched in a communication access code, whispering "I'll just find out..." The screen flickered into artificial life. "There!" announced Prowl, eyeing the form of Communications Officer Blaster adorning the screen. "Prime?" asked Prowl, as his leader had not said a word. He turned to face Optimus, to see him staring at nothing, expressionless.

Suddenly, Prime half collapsed, as if he was a puppet with severed strings, but quickly straightened himself. "Sorry, Prowl, what was that?" He glimpsed Blaster's visage above and realised. "What is the situation on Cybertron?" he questioned.

"Not good, Prime," answered Blaster. "Not good at all. The 'Cons have secured their rule, and are nearing the completion of the nuclear powered rocket thrusters. There's four of 'em, covering the entire area of Polyhex, and going underground too. Work should be completed in days..."

"Understood. Continue aerial observation via the Sky Spies and--"

"--Carry on intercepting all Decepticon communications. Got it. I'll keep you posted. Blaster out." 

Meanwhile, in another area of Autobot City altogether, the medical bays, Ratchet screamed in agony. He thrashed about wildly and collapsed, seemingly lifeless.

"YEEEEHAAAAAA!"

Bumblebee rocketed momentarily into the hot, sandy air and landed with a brief thump onto the surface 'of the sand dune. Trailing behind were Beachcomber and Hound, somewhat more dignified. They left their comrade and his excitability race ahead towards the looming cargo transporter. They both increased speed in an attempt to catch up with the Volkswagen Beetle, but to no avail.

It was when they finally reached the vessel, after witnessing Bumblebee enter through its doors, that Hound and Beachcomber realised something was wrong. Their worries were answered when the body of Bumblebee burst out from the hull of the ship and landed at their feet, a gaping wound in his chest. To their mounting astonishment the two remaining Autobots saw Thundercracker, Skywarp and Ramjet levelling their weapons at them. The barrel of each vomited a shard of destructive power, which collided with Hound and Beachcomber, sending them reeling into the realms of unconsciousness.

Back at Autobot City, Optimus Prime chose fifteen warriors from a line of eager Autobots. He addressed them solemnly.

"Autobots - It has come to my attention that the crew aboard the vessel keeping Cybertron under surveillance, the Celestial, may be in grave danger. If the Decepticons are aware of their presence, they will need back-up. That is why I am sending you fifteen to be their reinforcements." Prime turned to an Autobot. "Red Alert - you will command the team. I place them in your hands."

"I understand, Optimus," replied Red Alert.

"Very good. Now go. On arriving, inform Blaster of the situation. Good luck." Jazz escorted the group to docking bay seven to depart. When they had left the communications room, Prowl turned to Optimus.

"Prime... I can't help noticing you seem... troubled."

The Autobot leader slowly replied "I am sorry if my manner has been abrupt lately, my friend. It's just that I keep suffering blackouts lately. Blackouts and dreams which I'm helpless to prevent. They are becoming increasingly more frequent lately, and more intense every time." Optimus realised Prowl was looking dumbstruck. "Prowl, is everything okay?" he asked, worried.

"I've been having those self-same problems!" he exclaimed, stunned. "What's happening to us?" Optimus thought for a second then made a proposal.

"We visit Ratchet," he concluded and the pair of them raced out the room and headed down the corridor for the medical bays, and, hopefully, an answer. After going only a little way, they were confronted by a panicked Kup.

"Prime! It's Ratchet!"

"What? What is it?! Tell me!!"

"He's in Medical Bay One - either unconscious... or dead! We'd better hurry."

The three Transformers sped down what seemed like miles of identical corridor until, finally, they arrived at the doors of their destination. On their opening, Optimus Prime, Prowl and Kup discovered Ratchet convulsing in agony, and First Aid looking worried, crouching beside him. As Optimus strode up to the scene, his comrades stood well back.

"Ratchet... Ratchet..." the Autobot commander whispered, hoping for some response, but the medical officer's optic shields remained tightly shut.  "Kup! Prowl!" Optimus bellowed, "Over here! Hold him down." His troops obeyed instantly.

Optimus Prime struck the robot, and luckily, Ratchet stopped. His optic shield slowly slid back. Ratchet saw three faces staring intently at him, and let out a scream. Optimus, still concerned, asked him what had happened.

"This horrible vision..." revealed the Autobot, gradually standing.  "I.S.S. magnified to its most intense degree."

It was then a shudder of fear washed over Optimus Prime. 

Hound woke in a cell. It was an old metal cell, barred with electro bars, and alongside him lay Beachcomber and Bumblebee, their bodies scarred with laser burns and wounds. His own condition was no better, and all three of them were devoid of their weapons. There were no guards in sight, but opposite him, in another cell, he could make out some figures. The cells were separated by a battered corridor.

"A dire situation indeed," thought Hound, and then from his chest sprung a miniature of his turret gun. It served its purpose and scanned the area, then created a three-dimensional map. Hound studied his findings and concluded, fairly easily, that he was in the Decepticon fortress of Darkmount, deep within their abduction centre. "I'm on Cybertron?!" he exclaimed. "In Polyhex..."

"Correct, Hound," came a familiar voice. It was Blaster's, who was in the cell opposite with Getaway and Bluestreak. "I see you were caught too," he continued. "It's easily done..."

"Blaster!" exploded Hound, leaping to his feet. "Prime sent us to meet the cargo ship you told us would be in the desert! Turned out the Decepticons had hi- jacked it or something. What the heck is going on? How long have you been here?!"

"Eight weeks, Hound. Eight long weeks..."

Autobot City.

Optimus, Prowl and Ratchet eagerly compared notes while First Aid listened attentively and Kup continued his various security assignments, now that the main action had finished.

"So, what we have here is a disjointed dream sequence.  Prowl - yours ends when you fall off your 'line of consciousness', and mine is the continual spinning of a disk gradually floating into a black hole. Ratchet - let's get this straight - in your 'dream' you are confronted with an irreparable patient, and the guilt you feel is in the form of intense pain." Prowl and Ratchet nodded in agreement, and Optimus continued. "All of us enter our respective 'dream sequences' in different ways.  I just blackout, Prowl is absorbed by a white light, and Ratchet... Ratchet just--"

"--Collapsed. I just lose all feeling and breakdown."

"I.S.S." concluded Prowl. "Has to be." At this point, First Aid, who had been silent throughout the conversation, interjected.

"I think you're wrong in that assumption, Prowl."

"Tell me, then, what you think the explanation of our imaginings is."

"Well, to begin with, I don't think it's I.S.S." The Autobots looked on expectantly. "I have studied the Autobot's Earth history files, and they have inadvertently helped me create a theory: while experiencing these 'dreams', I think your minds are actually being transferred to the dimension known as 'limbo'.''  Ratchet, Optimus and Prowl looked puzzled.  "Remember it? You were the first to enter the realm, so perhaps something had long enough to create a bond with you."

"Hang on," interrupted Ratchet. "When we were mass-substituted, limbo was nothing like the horrific place we are being transported to. If your theory is sound, why has it changed?"

"I may be able to answer that," began Optimus Prime. "During the Time Wars, the rift in time and space swallowed Galvatron, Cyclonus and Scourge. The rift and limbo run parallel to each other, so what if an unknown quantity spilled over into limbo, when the rift appeared? This quantity could have contaminated it."

"I totally agree with that," declared First Aid.

"So," sighed Ratchet. "What do we do about it?"

Cybertron, Polyhex. The Decepticon fortress of Darkmount. Abduction Centre.

"Eight weeks?! That's impossible! Autobot City has been receiving information updates from you for over a month!"

"I wish you wouldn't lapse into Earthen time units..." commented Bluestreak.  "The whole thing stinks of a Decepticon trick," concluded Getaway.

"Ha," chuckled Bluestreak. "A 'Con con."

"Shut up," ordered Blaster sternly. "I hope Prime latches onto their scheme pretty quick, before something serious happens." Blaster looked at Hound in the opposite cell, and saw Bumblebee and Beachcomber slowly stand.

"The Decepticons attacked us in the Celestial a few breems after we started spying on them. They captured the entire crew and put us here to rot.  The reports you've been receiving are from Decepticons. They just look like us." Blaster nodded.

Hound walked over to his cell's electro bars. "Any ideas on how to escape?" he asked, not expecting any reply.

"The 'bars can be distorted with an ionic disrupter. Thing is, no-one out of the forty imprisoned here has one..."

"Except me, that is," corrected Bumblebee. "It's built in," he explained. "That's how the Decepticons couldn't confiscate it."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Getaway, already in the late stages of concocting a plan. His strategy was cut short when Bumblebee revealed another problem.

"My ionic disrupter rays... are weak. I'd need an energy enhancer..." The captives faces went collectively blank, their hopes of escape shattered. No-one had the necessary equipment. Then a grinding whisper of a voice drifted into the tense air and penetrated the dismal silence.

"I... have wh-what you need. Take... it..." Blaster, Hound and the others turned as one, to face a mutilated Transformer. In front of his twisted, rusted bodywork he held aloft a small device, still connected to his chest compartment via hundreds of complex wires and cables. It was immediately identified by Getaway as the right device. "Take it," the mechanoid repeated. "It will kill me, but I have nothing to live for..."

"How long have you been here?" asked Blaster.

"For as long as I can remember.  Sometimes breems... sometimes vorns. I'm too old to remember, too old to care. Just... take it."

Beachcomber stepped forward to oblige him, but was hastily grabbed by Hound. "Wait! We can't kill him, we don't have the right! It goes--"

"--Against 'everything we stand for'," finished Getaway. "In this case, necessity outranks compassion."

"How can you say that?!" demanded Hound. "We never kill, no matter how motivated!"

Bluestreak entered the argument: "The robot wants to die, to make the ultimate sacrifice, to go out with a bang.  He'll save countless lives, and if it's what he wants, it's what we must do... I'm not pretending to like it any more than you do."

"I wouldn't survive the escape anyway. Take it," breathed the Autobot.  Hound looked at the assembled and made a mental decision. He just nodded, and turned away.

In a small transporter craft, meanwhile, fifteen Autobots made their way to the Celestial spacecraft, waiting to meet Blaster. All fifteen were eager to do something meaningful for the Autobot cause. All fifteen on the verge of falling into a Decepticon trap. All fifteen about to die...

Autobot City.

Optimus Prime, Prowl and Ratchet entered the communications room, still pondering what course of action to take concerning their 'dreams'. Suddenly Prowl realised something.

"Prime the guide party... they're not back yet. What do you think has happened to them?"

"What guide party?" asked Optimus.

"I tried to tell you earlier today.  I dispatched Hound, Beachcomber and Bumblebee to meet the cargo ship. They should have returned by now, or at least contacted us..."

"Contact Blaster to see if the ship left on time," replied the Autobot leader, making a decision immediately. Prowl slid into the communications chair and punched in the relevant keys, his robotic hands nothing more than a blur. Onto the screen above their heads melted Blaster.

Red Alert led his fourteen Autobots from the shuttle craft and into the docking port of the Celestial. They all noticed a distinct lack of recognizable Autobots.

"This place really is understaffed," commented Hot Spot to Sideswipe, who agreed. They also saw the large amount of monitoring cameras as they entered the main control room. They watched Blaster addressing Optimus Prime on the view screen.

Autobot City, and Optimus Prime spoke to Blaster, a hint of suspicion in his tones. His voice was slightly searching. "Blaster - did the cargo ship leave on time?"

"Exactly, Optimus. Haven't you received the supplies yet? Perhaps you had better send some more Autobots to meet it..."

"A good suggestion. Oh, sorry... I'll just have to put you on hold..." Optimus Prime flicked a switch and the screen fell temporarily blank. Prowl looked puzzled, and went to turn it back on saying "What for?" He was halted by Prime.

"Prowl," explained his leader. "I have reason to believe 'Blaster' is, in reality, a Decepticon impersonator. Just bear with me..." He flicked the screen on again, and Blaster reappeared. "Have the reinforcements arrived yet?" Optimus asked.

Blaster peered behind him and acknowledged figures entering the room. "Yes, yes. They have," he confirmed.

"And Red Alert?" asked Optimus Prime. 
"He's here," replied Blaster.
"Excellent. I suppose Witterquick has settled in well?"

"Of course. I was just talking to him earlier... I have to go now, Prime. Decepticon activity. Blaster out." The screen died.

Optimus Prime turned to Prowl and Ratchet. "Prowl- assemble all our forces to meet at launch pad one in fifteen Earth minutes." Prowl looked puzzled.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"That 'Blaster' is a fake - there's never been a Autobot named Witterquick.  So we're going to Cybertron, to rescue Hound and the others, plus the reinforcements.  And while we're at it, we are going to try and destroy the any progress the Decepticons have made concerning their 'Cosmic Juggernaut' plans."

"Why don't we win back Cybertron too?" joked Ratchet, sarcastically. "We might just do that..." whispered Optimus Prime.

"I'm on my way Prime," said Prowl, and turned to go.  Suddenly, for all three of them, the room exploded in an overbearing white light. A barrage of special effects accompanied a shrill, whining drone. This cataclysmic spectacle heralded the collapse of Optimus Prime, Ratchet and Prowl. They fell to the floor, and remained still.

Bumblebee stood alongside Hound and Beachcomber in a darkened cell deep within Polyhex. The shadows played on his shining visage, manipulating the pattern of light which decorated him, and obscured the sight of a dead Autobot, slumped behind them all, flickering circuitry faded fast.

Hound scooped up the fallen Transformer and slung him over a broad shoulder. "Ready, Bumblebee," he breathed.

The mini-Autobot carefully positioned a make-shift energy enhancer on his forehead, an array of wires and cables bursting from his head and wrapping around the device, 'bonding' with it. Now handicapped with an unusually large head, the Transformer unleashed wave upon wave of energy upon the electro-bars of the cell. The bars faded, and then grew strong once more. Concentrating every iota of mental skill, Bumblebee summoned another assault, this time proving too strong. The electro-bars dissipated, and Bumblebee sighed triumphantly.

"Good work," commented Hound, ushering his two former cell-mates from the prison. "Now do the same for the others," Hound motioned at a line of about twenty-five similar abduction facilities, containing the rest of the Celestial's crew.

Soon, an impressive force of about forty Autobots stood in line, with Hound as the appointed group leader, still carrying the dead Autobot, stating "A hero such as this deserves a proper burial."

A young Autobot named Courier seemed to know his way around the Decepticons Abduction Stronghold remarkably well, and took the lead. Soon, the group had uncovered the armoury, and consequently dealt out sufficient weaponry to everyone present. Beachcomber remarked upon how it was unusual that their enemies should leave their supplies so unguarded, but Courier dismissed that as mere complacency.

Wasting little time, the Autobots reached the sealed entrance of the Decepticons Imperial Throne Room, accompanied with melodramatics from Courier. "Now shall we bring to an end the oil-soaked burden of Decepticon rule, in a wave of glory? I ask you now: Who is with me?" Naturally, the assembled agreed.

The sealed doors were violently kicked down, and the Autobots rushed into the throne room, only to discover eighty Decepticons circling them, armed to the teeth with enough weaponry to keep Wheeljack modifying for a millennia. Through gritted teeth, and displaying a expression of utmost determination, Blaster bellowed "Attack!" and pulled the trigger of his Neutron Cannon. He pulled again, with identical results.

Nothing happened.

The other Autobots tried their weapons, to no avail. A wave of horror and disbelief washed over them: Their weapons were fake, and didn't work at all. A second crest of realisation peaked, as they found they had just walked into the jaws of death... 

END OF PART ONE

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