His hands skittered across the complex console, pressing keys, punching in numerous access codes, summoning every trick he could muster, but nothing, nothing at all, could prevent the space craft from plummeting as a fireball to the planet below...

"USELESS!" screamed Red Alert. "Pathetic!" He glanced up at the huge computer screen. "Fellow Autobots...There is truly no way out of this. I'm sorry."

"No!" cried Slapdash. "There has to be!" He rushed over to a sealed doorway and hammered desperately on the titanium reinforced steel, shaking his head. Beside him, an unsettling Sideswipe remained strangely calm. He tonelessly informed Slapdash what he had told the rest of the trapped Transformers a few minutes earlier: "All exits are blocked. We cannot even escape this room."

"We have less than - one - breem - to - get - out!!" shouted the unnerved Powermaster.

"It sounds stupid but I can direct the ship to Cybertron's surface - I can still control its direction." Red Alert waited for some response.

"Why would we want to crash on our planet?!" said the bemused Sunstreaker.

"We may crash before we explode, and I think the former's preferable - and marginally less hazardous. I'II set the auto-pilot now." He did so, and behind him Slapdash ascended to the apex of panic.

"I don't understand it!!" he cried, tearing off a metal plate from a wall. "Are all of us admitting defeat?!" Summoning strength induced by previously untapped resources being plundered, Slapdash hurled the plate through the wall-consuming computer screen. Jagged shards of plexi-glass exploded into the room. The screen had shattered completely, leaving a blackened hole. Suddenly a plan burst into Red Alert's head...

"OUT THE WAY!" bellowed Ironhide, leaping at Powerglide and knocking the unsuspecting mini-Autobot two hundred yards across the surface of Autobot City. Before the two Autobots hit the metal surface a falling missile and rippling explosion had effectively eaten the area on which they had previously stood, leaving a smoking crater to mark the spot.

"The Decepticons are all over us!" shouted Ironhide, stating the obvious. "The City hasn't been hit this bad since its creation! What possible motive have they?"

"Do they need one?!" retorted Powerglide, firing several shots into the smoke-stained air, filled with incomprehensible motion. Transformers swooped and dived, ready to alter their shape at the gentle mental command only mastered by one of their kind. Surveying the sprawling commotion from high above was Starscream, his emotionless eyes betrayed by a face contorted by violent hatred and perverse excitement. He was enjoying this.

"Megatron!!" he screamed, apparently teetering on the edge of insanity. "See the lush destruction initiated by my hand. Observe the precious life being torn away from these pathetic warriors! Prepare for sweet victory, 'leader'. Prepare for the final hours!" Then Starscream's face darkened, and in a dangerously low tone, he whispered: "Prepare, Megatron, to die."

Below, the slaughter of Autobot City continued unabated.

"Done!" Ratchet triumphantly threw back his head. "Now Prime, with Prowl repaired, we can get out of this hell-hole." Alongside him, a solemn Optimus displayed little adulation, but Ratchet knew that behind his face plate he was smiling. Finally, they could tear themselves, body and soul, from the probing, suffocating clutches of limbo. Both Optimus and Ratchet stared expectantly at the motionless body of Prowl. At his dead, empty eyes. His cold, expression-less face. They waited for any sign of life, any spark of recognition from their comrade. They received none.

"Damn you!" cried Ratchet. "Wake up! Please!" He grabbed the body and shook it violently, an expression of despair on his face. "PROWL!" The body was thrown to the ground, where it lay perfectly still. Ratchet was having a breakdown in front of Optimus Prime's stunned eyes. The doctor placed his hands on Prowl's shoulders and rested his head gently on his chest. A desperate whimper escaped the Autobot's lips.

"But..." began Optimus, "I - I thought...You were so sure, Ratchet. So sure you could repair him."

"I never...I never really believed I could. I just kept on Kept on trying." Suddenly a look of anger crossed his face. His grip on Prowl tightened. "And now...Now we're trapped here forever!! And - it's - all - your - FAULT!!" The enraged Transformer raised a clenched fist and brought it down on Prowl's cheek. He hit him again. Then once more, harder.

He released him. A moment passed and a glimmer showed in Prowl's eyes. The glimmer grew into a glow, and the glow burst into the flames of life. He was alive.

"I don't be--"

White.

"--lieve it!"

Prowl, Optimus and Ratchet were back in Autobot City. Back to reality. Surrounded by a group of Decepticons, on the verge of using the weapons levelled at the Autobot's heads.

The Celestial.

"So- it's possible to actually climb through the screen, through the layers of circuitry and components, and then enter another room?"

"Yes!" replied First Aid. "Then we hop in an escape pod and get the hell outta here!!"

"Are you sure of what you say, First Aid?" questioned Hot Spot.

"Positive. The bulk of the main, on board computer is comprised of nothing but bits and pieces. We merely rip them out, creating a passageway into another sector of the ship!" He looked pleased with himself.

"Yes!" cried Slapdash, who ran over and began ripping and tearing. "We must hurry!"

Hot Spot nodded in acknowledgement of the plan, and the entire crew stepped through the gaping hole in the massive screen and proceeded to do the same. All the time they were aware of time slipping away. After what seemed an age, Hot Spot spoke urgently: "We've got microbreems remaining! Quicker!" By now the silhouette of the cracked screen was far behind them - the main computer was larger than any had estimated.

Finally: "That's it!" blurted Red Alert, facing a blank wall and brushing circuits from his body and untangling himself. "This must be it." He turned to his comrades. "Behind here must be the escape pod. Ready?" The fourteen Autobots nodded impatiently. "Okay," he thought. "This is it." He swung his fist back and in a savage swipe ripped open the separating wall.

All of them were immediately sucked into space. Red Alert had miscalculated, and now the Autobots drifted helplessly about the icy blackness that comprised the majority of the galaxy, unable to communicate or speak. The group began to float silently, destined to drift the universe for eternity. It was not the best of days...

"Hey! Look what I've found!" chirped Courier, referring to a large but apparently primitive televisual holographic device, ready loaded with a data disk. The rest of the Autobots, lead by Hound and Ammo, strode up to it.

"About time we found something interesting..." commented Brawn. He was tired, like all the others, of walking aimlessly through the intertwining corridors of Subterrania without so much as a clue about how to get back to the surface.

''I'II hook up," offered Courier and flicked the appropriate switches. A bright picture burst on to the screen and behind them a three-dimensional hologram formed in the room.

Both showed the same thing.

The Autobots stared as an ancient Autobot's face began speaking. "You, the assembled, have doubtless traversed far, and came seeking knowledge concerning the apparent death of Subterrainia, which you now know to be untrue. When the War first stained the purity of happiness and prosperity that blanketed Cybertron, we, the inhabitants of Subterrainia, predicted the ensuing chaos, and so decided upon taking drastic actions. We all allowed ourselves to be temporarily deactivated, and sealed far beneath Subterrainia's lowest depths, where we could rest safe in the knowledge that our bodies, minds and resources could not be plundered by the Decepticons. Let it be known that this was not an act of cowardice, but an act of inevitable necessity. We now subject ourselves to deactivation, knowing that soon, when the War is over, we shall be re-awakened to a new dawning of peace. Farewell." 

The hologram and the screen both went dead. "We have to 're-awaken' them!" declared Gridlock, dramatically.

"No!" replied Hound, sternly. "They said they wished to be brought back to life when the War is over. It is not."

"I know, but what if the Decepticons are after us as we speak, just like you said, eh? What if they discover this, then go down there and permanently de-activate them? It isn't safe now, Hound. We must do something, at least!" 

Hound weighed up the argument carefully. After much thought he disclosed an answer. 
"Okay, we go after them, and save them. But then we must find a way out of this place! Okay? The Autobots murmured in consent. "Split into twos. We'll try to find the way down to 'the lower depths' the robot spoke of. Meet me back here in three breems." 
His comrades obeyed, Blaster with Getaway, Beachcomber with Bumblebee, Gridlock with Courier and so on. Little did they realise that the future of the planet Cybertron was gradually ticking away... 

He'd had enough. 

Suffering blackouts and hallucinations, and then almost having his mind absorbed by the sentient core of another dimension was bad enough, but waking up confronted by seven of his arch enemies, the Decepticons, on the verge of murdering him was too much. So he'd lashed out, anger controlling his actions, a seemingly merciless killing machine. Now Optimus Prime stood amid a smoking pile of seriously injured Decepticons, fists clenched, his rage now stifled. Prowl stood behind him, dumbstruck. He had witnessed the odds of a fight change within a matter of seconds. He had seen his leader with indignation on his face. Optimus turned and saw Ratchet tending to the crippled body of First Aid.

"Dead?" asked Optimus Prime.

"Not quite," answered Ratchet, an array of instruments bursting forth from his wrists.

"Thank God," sighed Optimus. "What happened here? How long were we in limbo?"

"No idea. Once I've repaired the Doc here, we'll find out."

"What's happened to his arms?" piped up Prowl, slowly. He was still dreary after his torment in limbo.

"The Decepticons ripped them off. Torture, I suppose. They thought they would deprive a surgeon of his most valuable assets - his hands. Their evil has reached new depths." 
Suddenly the wall exploded into the room, and in ran Megatron and Galvatron, closely followed by Shockwave and Scorponok. The heads of Autobots were strung around their necks, their eyes were on fire with hatred.

"Die!!" bellowed Megatron, and discharged a blistering stream of power from his fusion cannon. Ratchet threw himself out of it's path, but it hit First Aid directly, atomising him.

"Lively one, isn't he?" snarled Galvatron as claws extended from his fingers. With a cry of exuberance he thrust his open hand through Ratchet's chest. Scorponok bounded up and crushed Ratchet's head with his claw, grinding his brain module and ending his life simultaneously.

"Megatron!!!" screamed Optimus Prime and leapt at the Decepticon leader. Megatron calmly lifted his right arm and another burst of energy shot forth, bathing the room in brilliant white light. Optimus was hit squarely on the chest and staggered back a few steps. A crater formed where the blast had hit, but he appeared to be okay. This condition was remedied when Shockwave and Scorponok leapt on the Autobot leader and proceeded to rip off his head. Galvatron crushed it underfoot. The four of then, all grinning insanely, turned and faced Prowl. He couldn't move or speak. Utter terror had seized his body and vocal circuits. The killers moved closer, feeding like parasites off his fear.

"Megatron?" prompted Galvatron.

"Very well," came the reply. The Decepticon leader stood back as his three comrades held Prowl down. Megatron's hand retracted, and a large spike clicked into place. The robot sprang into the air and landed on Prowl's waist. The Autobot's eyes widened in horror as his nemesis pulled back his arm and stabbed the spike through Prowl's throat, leaving him totally dead. That's when he awoke.

"AAAAH!" he gasped, in unison with Optimus Prime and Ratchet, sitting up beside him, similarly shocked. They looked around - they were within Autobot City, First Aid at their side.

"What happened?!" First Aid exclaimed to the trio. "For the last breem you've been thrashing about uncontrollably!"

"It was a trick," concluded Optimus. "We...we thought we had escaped limbo completely. Ratchet had just repaired Prowl."

"A flash of light!" burst out Prowl. "I awoke, and then there was a sudden bolt of whiteness. After that we found ourselves here... It - we must have still been in --"

"Limbo," finished Optimus Prime. "We repaired you, Prowl, under the assumption that on doing so, we would all return to reality. Not so. Apparently, limbo still clung to us...We needed to die in there, to completely sever the 'link', in order to escape...I suppose you two witnessed the same as I?" Ratchet and Prowl nodded in agreement. 
Suddenly the wall exploded into the room.

"AARGH! It's happening again!!" cried Prowl.

Jetfire sprinted in then skidded to a halt when he saw Optimus Prime alive. "Prime! It's incredible!" He spun around and faced First Aid. "The Decepticons are breaching our inner defences. Optimus - we need your guidance now!"

"Very well, Jetfire," replied Optimus calmly. "First Aid - tell us what is happening."

"The 'Cons, led by Starscream, started attacking the City twenty five breems ago. Without you to lead us, we've suffered huge losses. Our force is greatly depleted. We must fight - now."

Thundercracker suddenly ran into the room, lasers ready to fire. Instantly Optimus' arm straightened and aimed at him, then from his hand burst a short blast of energy, ripping through the Decepticon's chest.

"I -- I had no idea you could do that!!" eexclaimed Ratchet.

"Neither did I..." muttered Optimus as he stared at his clenched fist, white smoke still floating into the air. "I need a weapon," he ordered, but before his order could be fulfilled by First Aid, a huge, gleaming rifle materialised in his hand, and double barrelled cannons sprang up from his forearms. A shoulder cannon formed beside his head, and body armour plated his chest. "What?!" stammered Prowl. "H --How?"

"I feel unimaginable, raw, power..." said Optimus, amazed. His expression altered, and he shot his comrades determined glances. "And armed with this power, I think it's time, for us Autobots, that the tide of battle changed...."

END OF PART THREE

TOC Front Page