The silence was suffocating.

Red Alert glanced about him and saw fourteen other Autobots, blank expressions on their faces. They had been smothered in the blackness of space for what seemed like days, but time had little meaning now. It played no role anymore, and it could not be estimated or measured in space. Far below them he saw Cybertron, a shining sphere, its quintessence penetrating the dark skies. It looked so serene and unscathed, little evidence that bloodthirsty warfare had raged relentlessly for countless millennia, rendering the natural beauty that had once blessed Cybertron dead.

His eyes suddenly focused on something he had never known existed. A blatant abnormality which he had never seen the likes of. He saw four infinitely huge rockets dominating at least one quarter of the planet. The surface had spewed forth these abominations. Although still in the skeletal stages of their construction, he could easily guess what these rockets were to be used for - to propel Cybertron through the universe. The Decepticon goal was on the verge of being accomplished - domination over all life. Since the war had begun, this had been the main thing the Autobots had fought against. Millions upon millions of years, and now their perverted ambition screamed for completion, and Red Alert was positive that nothing could halt the Decepticons plans now. It was too late.

He identified the region - Polyhex. If he and the rest of them got out of this alive, that's where he would have to go. For one final attempt, one last-ditch effort to thwart the Decepticons. Bright light was thrown on him and the others. He looked around and witnessed the obliteration of the Celestial as it erupted into white fire. Not much time had passed then... They may still have hope. He turned his attention to below once more. To Polyhex... 

Directly below Polyhex, in the city of Subterrainia, someone died.

"He's dead," confirmed Syntax, looking sorrowfully at Hound, then glancing back at the disfigured remains of Gridlock.

Courier was inconsolable, and through painful gasps he stammered: "H--He... It just h-happened! We...we were checking out this room for -f-for a way down to the catacombs where the- Subterrainians are... and s-suddenly this automatic defence unit burst out the wall! It fired directly - directly at Gridlock... He just collapsed..." He too stared at the decapitated remains of the Autobot.

Hound studied the exploded head, and concluded his brain module was totally destroyed. "Where was this defence unit, Courier?" questioned Hound.

"Over there," replied the Autobot, pointing. Blaster strolled up to the designated position and kneeled beside a small collection of smouldering components.

"I shot it straight away," explained Courier.

"It looks that way..." commented Blaster, picking up a blackened metal plate.

"Bumblebee - gather up the remains of Gridlock forr future burial. Multibot - you have a storage facility, don't you? Keep him in there. He didn't deserve this at all."

"Who does?" commented Hound.

"Let's go, then, eh?" asked Courier. "I want to get out this place."

"We had better search first," said Hound. "Everyone - look for a possible entrance to the catacombs." While the Autobots obeyed and went off, Blaster walked up to Hound.

"Y'know, isn't it unusual to have an auto defence device built before the war... in a pacifist city?"

"I've been thinking the same thing..." admitted Hound.  "Are you sure it's an auto.?" he enquired, doubtfully.

"That's the worrying thing... I can't tell amid all the wreckage."

"Perhaps --"

"Hound!!" came an excited voice. It was Trasher. "I've found something!!"

"Onward, Decepticons!!" Starscream hovered in robot mode high above Autobot City and continued to bellow orders to his troops far below. He gleefully imagined declaring victory to Megatron. The stronghold beneath him was pock-marked and literally ripped open. Plumes of smoke climbed into the sky and engulfed him, but he did not mind. As the smoke from yet another neutron bomb disintegrated, Starscream surveyed the delightful plateau unfolding before his power-hungry eyes, and envisioned himself triumphantly murdering Megatron and in the same killing stroke declaring himself ruler of the mightiest army - legions of Decepticons. What with the Cosmic Juggernaut operation nearing completion, the time had scarcely been better, and the rewards rarely had been so ripe. He called his highest ranking officer, Soundwave.

"Soundwave, victory is assured. I need you to deal the final blow to the depleted Autobot forces, for I have urgent business to attend to. Rendezvous with me at Castle Decepticon, in Polyhex, when the Autobots are dead." With that he rocketed off into the sky, and then took a shuttle from the fleet that lay in orbit. "Megatron, here I come..." he thought.

"Basically, what we have here is a matter transporter device?" asked Getaway, referring to the circular platform in front of him.

"Correct," replied Trasher. "It can transmit the atoms of any amount of beings as particles of light across sub-space, then rearrange them at another point or place."

"Oh," said Getaway. "It's quite small, though, isn't it? How many Transformers can it transport at one time?"

"Five. There's, let's see..." he quickly counted heads, "Twenty-seven of us."

"Five groups of five, and two extra," concluded Hound.

"I'll stay 'till last - I've got to operate the transporter." Trasher stood back, then walked over and assumed a position behind the control table. "I don't mind waiting," said Courier, suddenly. Hound acknowledged him.

"Okay. Bumblebee, Beachcomber, Syntax, Punch and Fistfight - you're party one. You may as well go now." The selected group cautiously stepped on to the platform. Trasher fluently depressed the relevant keys, and the Autobots were engulfed with an eerie light. Then another code was punched in and a ring of raw energy suddenly appeared around the shoulders of the five and promptly shot down to the face of the platform. The Autobots disappeared as the ring touched the ground.

"Next five:" said Hound, "Multibot, Rev-Tone, Silverbolt, Wheeljack and Getaway." He ushered the five on to the transmitter. Trasher began the process.

"What's up, Courier?" asked Silverbolt, noticing a look of sudden puzzlement on Courier's face.

"Nothing," said Courier slowly, but the expression remained. "It's just I think I just heard voices..."

"Decepticons," concluded Hound, who had overheard the conversation. "We must hurry." He saw the next five temporarily blink out of existence. "Punch, Reargunner, Flipside, Swipe and Blocker - Go." Only three Autobots climbed on to the platform.

"Where are Reargunner and Flipside?" enquired Hound. "They're dead," said Ammo, solemnly.

"No!" exclaimed Trasher. "I didn't realise! I just...I just took for granted that they were here!" His head dropped.

"They died while we fought the Decepticon Sewer Patrol. I'm sorry."

"Those damn 'Cons have got a lot to answer for!!" snarled Trasher.

"Another time, friend," said Hound. "Punch, Swipe, Blocker...send them to the catacombs to meet the others, Trasher."

"Very well." He did so, and another group stepped quickly on the platform and were dematerialised. "Next lot...That's Ammo, Blaster and I. Three. Courier: you and Trasher could come with us." Trasher did not hear this but Courier answered quickly.

"Afraid not, Hound. Minimum of two, so if you three go now, us two will follow straight away. Okay?"

"Got it," said Hound, while Ammo and Blaster ran on to the matter transporter. "You must be quick though. Courier?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. I think the Decepticons are gaining."

"Send us now!" shouted Hound and leapt on to the platform. An instant later they were gone, leaving just Trasher and Courier.

"Courier - I'll set the coordinates and transmisssion frequency on auto. We have ten seconds. Let's go." Trasher began running toward the platform.

"Are we all accounted for?" asked Hound as he surveyed the group of Autobots standing in front of him in the matter transmission receiving room. "Ammo, Bumblebee, Punch, Fistfight, Getaway, Wheeljack, uh huh, you and you and..." he continued counting heads until finally he said: "Where are Courier and Trasher?" he looked around, worried.

"Not arrived yet, Hound," said Fistfight, then a figure cloaked in an unearthly light burst from the platform into the room. It was Courier, and he looked terrified. He scrambled to his feet and frantically informed his comrades what had happened.

"Decepticons! They attacked us the moment you left. As Trasher was about to be transported, they ran in and... and blew him to bits!! They're probably on their way here now!" Murmurs of anger and surprise, together with discontent and rage could be heard from the crowd. Another dead. How many more?

"Leave this to me," said Ammo, and silently stepped forward. He unclipped a Neutron Blaster and unloaded an entire clip into the controls of the transmitter device. It was annihilated almost instantly.

"What do we do now?" asked Getaway, nervously.

"Warriors - to me!" Soundwave stood impressively on the bank that surrounded Autobot City, and waited as hordes of Decepticons flocked to him. They had reduced the stronghold to tatters, and now Soundwave gave the final order.

"We are on the brink of achieving what many thought impossible. We have eradicated their inner defences, so prepare to mount a final attack! Prepare to--"

"Decepticons!" They turned as one, and astonishment washed over them as they saw one who possessed incomprehensible power. They saw one who displayed the compassion and intelligence which had prevented Decepticon rule for millennia. They saw a leader. They saw Optimus Prime, garbed in weaponry and armour, standing alongside the entire Autobot force.

"Decepticons - everyone on Prime!" The Decepticons oobeyed and hurtled toward the one Autobot, weapons charged and anger on their faces. With one fluid motion Optimus Prime swung his arms in the air in a giant arc, creating an orbed force field. The attackers collided with it and were repelled backwards. Optimus then, with a thought, shut it down. A plate on his shoulder burst out wards and an array of darts and blades were revealed, which promptly flew out into the incoming warriors, penetrating the densest skin. And still the Decepticons persisted. Prime dispatched bolt after bolt of electricity from his wrist lasers, while his independently guided shoulder cannon disposed of aerial Decepticons who dived closer, dropping missiles and bombs, all of which merely exploded around his feet. Finally, Optimus stood straight, held his arms aloft, legs outstretched. He bellowed, "Away!"

The Decepticons felt themselves be thrown violently backwards on ripples of force rivalling that of an atom bomb, and they were utterly powerless to resist. They had no idea Prime possessed such power.

"To the pods!" ordered Soundwave sharply, and the Decepticons headed for orbit (it was only a short distance away, because of the 'throw'.)

As Soundwave skilfully leapt into the claustrophobic cockpit of his escape pod and slotted his arms into the control sockets, his mind fled to what Starscream had so confidentially informed him. His over ambitious comrade had assured him of victory, and he had made off for Cybertron, for reasons unstated, but Soundwave knew his goal - the overthrow of Megatron. He also knew he wouldn't achieve it -arrogance tainted his abilities. Still, he thought, it might be useful to inform Megatron of Starscream's impending treachery. As the cumbersome guidance control slotted over his visor, an intricate device extended from underneath his mouth plate, and he tapped into Megatron's palace on Polyhex. As he began to tell Megatron of all that had happened, his escape pod burst into sub-space, on its way to Cybertron.

"What's our course of action, Optimus?" asked Perceptor, a slight note of uneasiness in his respectful tones. The other Autobots, battered but miraculously functional, stood about nervously, not knowing what to think of this cataclysmic new power their leader had just displayed. Power on a scale not experienced by any Transformer before him, not even Galvatron or Starscream when possessed by The Underbase. They all felt unusually frightened by this turn of events.

"We follow the Decepticons, Perceptor," answered Optimus, calmly. He could sense the uncertainty hanging in the close Autumn air, but he ignored it, perhaps against his better judgement.

"We have no ship, though." declared Trailbreaker, stating the obvious.

"I'll see to that," spoke Optimus and concentrated intently. In front of the stunned Autobots, a huge transporter ship formed, as pieces and components appeared from no-where and integrated. "It is time this war was over. Autobots - board the ship!">

Thousands of Autobots obeyed him and speedily climbed aboard the massive shuttle, in wondrous bewilderment, too amazed to contemplate the planet shattering events which were being set in motion. Within virtually no time, huge beams of compressed energy lifted the transporter from the pock-marked, blackened surface of Autobot City and rocketed off to Cybertron, with determined Optimus Prime at the helm.

Meanwhile, Starscream was re-entering the regular space continuum, following a short spell in sub-space, in order to efficiently navigate the thousands of light years of space that comprised the distance between Earth and Cybertron. He remained in a confident mood as his escape pod increased speed towards Polyhex, the region of his gleaming planet blessed with having the four inter-stellar thrusters on it. An evil grin crossed his face as he imagined Cybertron magnificently sailing through the infinite realms of space, crushing all in it's path. His attention was suddenly torn away from Cybertron when he caught sight of something hovering just of the border of Cybertronian air-space. Magnification of his optic focusing revealed to him it was in actuality a group of Transformers, apparently dead. He chuckled to himself, and altered the direction of his escape pod slightly, in order to collide with the immobile group. 

"Uh-oh..." thought Red Alert.  "He's seen us..." Red Alert slowly turned his head (Quicker movement was impossible in space) and saw that his fellow Autobots had seen the incoming escape pod turn direction, face them and rapidly increase speed also. "Great," he thought. "We get beaten up, sucked into space and condemned to an eternity of meaningless existence, then someone turns up and decides to tear us apart." Red Alert could do nothing but await the impending collision with teeth clenched. 

"I've seen him!" cried Rampage, then removed his head from the target enhancer and turned to attentively face Megatron, who was purposefully striding up to the Predacon. "Starscream - coordinates 993 A, 776 B. Directly above us." He eagerly awaited his leader's response.

"So. Soundwave was correct. Starscream does indeed pose a threat to me, and it must be eradicated, however small." He stood beside Rampage. "You have my permission to kill him. Fire!"

Rampage swivelled his seat around, locked on target and unleashed a single laser blast at the escape pod, grinning as he envisioned Starscream being obliterated. The laser shot sped into the sky.

"What?!" gasped Starscream, as he suddenly glimpsed incoming fire. Instantly he reprogrammed the controls of his pod, but only just managed to evade the shard of death that shot past him, damaging a wing. "Megatron..." he guessed. Nevertheless, the determined Transformer was able to regain control of his vessel and put it back on course for the Autobots.

"Damn!" cursed Megatron. "Out the way!" He savagely pushed Rampage off his chair and snatched the controls. Without the aid of any targeting he fired another shot, relying on instinct and experience. "Eat this, traitor!!" he bellowed, revelling in a moment of particular megalomania.

"Another one!" exclaimed Red Alert silently as he saw another blast burst forth from Cybertron and head towards them and Starscream. "We're dead!" He watched as the laser flew towards the Starscream's vessel, and as that escape pod continued to speed at them. "We're dead." The ship was practically on the verge of colliding with them when the burst of fire obliterated its nose, and sent it off course with gathering speed, at Cybertron below. The escape pod catapulted past the fifteen and they, in their minds, breathed a collective sigh of relief. Then suddenly they felt themselves being inexorably pulled after the pod, helpless to do anything else.

"Caught in the slipstream!" realised Red Alert, an expression of painful disbelief on his face.

The group now fell through Cybertron's atmosphere and continued to be pulled uncontrollably towards the surface.

"Come and get it!" shouted Megatron, still at the controls, and still wallowing in evil exuberance. "You are dead, Starscream, totally, figuratively and metaphorically!" He was enjoying this, and he fired one final blast to finish his enemy off. This shot hit its target perfectly, ripping apart the escape pod in a flurry of flames and carnage. "Yesss!" Megatron hissed. 

"It's exploded!" screamed Hot Spot to his fellow Autobots, excitedly, as they felt the unbreakable pulling sensation suddenly cease.

"Yeah, but we're still falling. We'll die on impact!" shouted back Sunstreaker, dampening their spirits somewhat.

Hound and the remaining twenty four Autobots miserably made their way through the dimly lit corridor deep beneath Polyhex and Subterrania, searching for catacombs where the Neutralists could be found, dragging their boots along the gleaming floor. None of them could tear their minds away from the death of Trasher at the hands of the Decepticons, as retold to them by Courier. The Autobot seemed to be suffering his loss more than any of them. He barely spoke, merely shuffled along behind the others, his head held low, fists clenched in anger directed at himself for reasons unknown.

"I sense fervent activity in this direction," pointed out Blaster, facing the leftmost of a three-pronged passageway.

"Activity?" emphasised Hound, questioningly, with a hint of disbelief in his vocal modulator.

"Check," confirmed the Autobot Communicator. He stepped forward. "Around here." He stared around blankly, trying to locate a centre of his readings, but to no avail. The other Autobots did the same, curiously.

"There!" exclaimed Fistfight, pointing downwards at a large ventilator grill from which faint noise was emanating, and upon which they all stood. They quickly stepped off and crouched down to peer through the ventilator but could distinguish little.

"Let me handle it," said Multibot. The tip of his forefinger flipped backwards to reveal a cylindrical device with many intricate instruments locked into grooves around it. He depressed a pressure point on his wrist and from a groove a tiny screw/laser scalpel clicked into place. Studying the rim of the ventilator carefully and activated a bright beam of light from his forehead he set to work unhinging the grill, as the other Autobots watched on attentively. After some minutes, his head-beam faded and he retracted his finger instrument.

"Done," he declared, and sat up on his knees, hands gripped under the perimeter of the plate, ready to lift it. The group waited expectantly.

"Well?" prompted Hound. Multibot slowly pulled the ventilator grill upwards, and light flooded the tightly packed corridor. Commotion flooded in and extinguished all other previous sound. Hound leaned forward and peered into the square opening, resisting the kaleidoscopic torrent of audio and visual that relentlessly battered their senses. His optic sensors, accustomed to the dusky light which gently bathed the assembled, clawed their way to sight and he received a heart rending shock of such proportions that he was physically thrown back into the corridor, gasping, his face contorted in utter disbelief and horror. "No," he stammered, visibly shaken beyond consolation. "No." The other Autobots were scared by this sudden fear that had washed over him. Cautiously they peered over the edge, and saw what their trembling comrade had seen. Bumblebee stammered a fearful realisation. "Oh my god..." 

END OF BOOK ONE 

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