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Children of Cybertron I

by Tom Drake (tddrake@uswest.net)


Skydive hauled the last crate into the cargo hold of the Autobot shuttle Cepheid that he and his Aerialbot companion, Fireflight, had traveled in. He set it on the cold iron floor and then made his way back outside where the gathered Maximals huddled around the golden frame of the Cepheid. It had taken a miserable six months to repair the damage their ship had endured during the crash. Now that it was complete, the two were ready to return to Cybertron, their mission of learning the whereabouts of the Axalon accomplished. It hadn't been easy, of course. A couple of Decepticons had followed them and put up a fight (see my last story, "Broken Visions"), but the Maximals had helped them out. In fact, the two Decepticons, Thundercracker and Ramjet, were bound together and detained in the cargo hold, too. But they got back to Cybertron, those two weren't going back to the Decepticon Command. They were going to jail.

And the trip had been fulfilling for both Skydive and Fireflight. They had met their former commander when they Aerialbots during the Great War, Silverbolt. They had helped him piece back his memory, and it was completely patched together now.

Skydive joined Fireflight on the boarding ramp, looking down at the Maximals. He offered his hand to Optimus, who stood in the front. "Thank you, Optimus, for everything that you've done for us. We sincerely appreciate your help."

"I'm happy to have been of some assistance," Optimus told him. He looked at the rest of his subordinates. "What will you tell the Tripredacus Council? About us, I mean?"

"Don't worry, Optimus," Skydive said, laying a hand on the Transmetal gorilla's shoulder. "We'll tell them you're here. And that there are Predacons here. And that you've been waiting a long time to return home."

"Uh, speakin' of goin' home," Rattrap intervened, playing the tips of fingers against one another, "are you sure you don't got room fer another passenger in there? I'd be happy to cramp inta whatever tiny space you got--"

Cheetor slapped him on the back of his hand with his own hand. "Shut up, Rattrap."

"Hey, pussycat--!" Rattrap started.

Optimus lay a hand on his mouth. "Please don't start," Optimus told him.

Rattrap went silent.

"I'm afraid we don't have any extra room," Skydive said, raising an eyebrow in Rattrap's direction. "Nor do we have any extra time. They're expecting us. We'd better get going."

"Then go," said Tigatron, who stood behind the group of Maximals. "We understand."

Fireflight turned and boarded the ship, bound for the pilot's chair. Skydive started behind him, but stopped before closing the ramp. He waved at them. "I'll miss you all," he told them, and punched the command button to close the ramp. It rose with a mechanical whine, and the Maximals watched as Skydive's frame disappeared. The engines roared to life, the plasma rockets burned to life, and the ship rose into the atmosphere under a blanket of thick smoke. When it cleared, the Cepheid climbed highter into the sky before disappearing behind the uppermost clouds and into space. A few moments later, there was a giant blue flash as the ship jumped into transwarp space.

For a long period, none of the Maximals said anything. Then Prowl spoke up. "Well, who's up for some Fresca or something?"


Megatron sat in his command chair in the bowels of the Darkseid, the Predacon attack ship-turned base of operations during the Beast Wars. He held his head in his Transmetal hands, breathing heavily.

Quickstrike was smart enough to realize that this one of the times when you didn't intrude on Megatron's musings. Doing so could result in his being scrapped, and he that was the last thing he wanted. He looked at Blackarachnia who stood next to him. They stood behind a metal bulkhead, a good distance from where Megatron sat.

"I've never seen Megatron so depressed before," Blackarachnia whispered. "What do you think is going on?"

"I don't know, sugarbot," Quickstrike whispered back. "Maybe the boss is goin' through one of them midlife crisises."

"We should do something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, uh...I could talk to Tarantulas, have him whip up some Transmetal Prosac or something--"

"Quickstrike. Blackarachnia," Megatron said, his voice low and unsettled but easily audible.

The Fuzor gulped. "Uh, yeah?"

"You need'nt hide from me, you two," he said, raising his head to peer at them. "I know what you're talking about, you might as well show yourselves."

Quickstrike was the first one up and over to where Megatron sat. He hopped on a gliding platform and maneuvered it over to Megatron's hovering chair. "Uh, boss, uh, were just talking about your little problem. It's okay, it ain't that embarrassin'. You know, every man goes through this--"

"No, you dote!" Megatron punched him in the face. "I'm not having any kind of masculine problem. I was merely thinking of another way we could strike at the Maximals. They continue to defy me, but they will not be able to keep up forever. I need something, anything..."

Warning, the Darkseid's computer voice announced. Incoming stasis pods.

Megatron grinned. "Something like that." He maneuvered his chair over to a display unit. "Computer, how many incoming stasis pods? Can you give me a number?"

Preliminary tracking systems indicate three stasis pods.

The grin turned into a full-face smile. "Can you give me their coordinates?"

Stasis pods will achieve planetfall in Sector Viron, Grid Six.

"All of them?"

All of them.

Megatron turned to look at Quickstrike, who was recovering from the blow he had sustained from Megatron's blunt fist. "Quickstrike, assemble the Predacons. Its time we welcomed some new comrades in arms."

"Holy crap," muttered Prowl as he watched the data pour down the screen. The Axalon's scanners had picked up three stasis pods, on an approach that would land them square in the middle of a huge desert, a good two hundred kilometers away from the Maximal base. And if that weren't enough, the Predacons were gathering and were already on their way.

"What?" asked Optimus, who was huddled next to Rhinox and Rattrap on the other side of the bridge.

Prowl snorted. "We got action, boss. A lot of it."

Optimus came over and looked over his shoulder. "What kind of action?

"See for yourself," Prowl said, pointing at the screen.

Optimus leaned forward, staring intently at the readout. Then his eyes bulged. He swore.

"That's what I said," Prowl cracked.

"And the Predacons are on their way already?"

"Yep."

"How many?"

"All of 'em."

Optimus mumbled something under his breath. He turned to Rhinox. "Okay, big guy, we got a situation. We need every unit to converge on Sector Viron, Grid Six. Now."

"What's going on?" Rhinox inquired.

"I'll tell you later. We've got to get moving, and fast," Optimus turned back to Prowl, who still looked at the scanner screen. "Prowl, what kind of weather resistance are we facing?"

It didn't long for the answer. "Winds, boss. Lot's of wind." He looked at the Maximal commander, amusement no longer evident in his face. "With all that desert sand blowing around like that, it's going to be hell out there."

"We'll have to take that chance," Optimus told him. "We've got three stasis pods on their way in. We can't let Megatron have them. You wouldn't like it if we had left you to the Predacons, would you?"

"Well, no..."

"That's what I thought." Optimus went over to the roof hatch, which had slid open, allowing the blazing sun to illuminate the the interior of the ship. He activated his rockets, and looked at Prowl and the others. "See you there," he said, and then took off.

Prowl watched him go, then turned to look at Rhinox and Rattrap. "Well, that's it. Let's move." And for once, even Rattrap didn't have a cynical remark.


Megatron could see the swirling sand storm several kilometers up in the air. It looked like a giant brown storm cloud swelling and rolling to its maximum size. The noise, even from way up in the atmosphere, was dephening. He couldn't see anything below him almost as far as the horizon.

Razorshark flew next to him in beast mode. He pointed a sickle-shaped finger at the violent maelstrom of coulds and dust. "We're not going down there, are we?"

"Certainly, we are," Megatron confirmed. "For if we want to reach the stasis pods, that is what we'll have to do."

Waspinator, also flying in beast mode, buzzed up to Megatron's left. "Megatron! Wazzzpinator has spotted stasssizzz pod! Look! Up there!" The bug pointed an insectoid limb at the dusky orange sky. Behind a glint of sunlight, Megatron could see the small, fiery forms of the clustered stasis pods and a long black tail of smoke. It was headed straight for them.

"Predacons, evasice maneuvers!" he shouted as the glowing pods shot towards them.

All of the airborne Predacons, Megatron, Razorshark, Waspinator, Deeptooth, and Inferno with Quickstrike riding on his back, broke the loose formation in the sky and went tumbling off in odd directions. Just as they did, the triplet of white-hot pods plummeted through the space where they had all been gathered a heartbeat ago and zoomed down to the ground. After it passed, Megatron regained his position and watched as the pods began to separate and each fell into the frantic cloud below, the only trace of their existence the black smoke of entry.

Then three loud impacts, each in succession to the previous, rumbled along the ground and vibrated through the air. Megatron could faintly see plumes of sand and dirt skyrocket through the violent, swirling storm. He smiled with grim satisfaction. They had landed.

He activated his comm unit. "Tarantulas, what is your position?" The scheming spider had elected to travel on land, since his Transmetal form permitted such travel with its high-powered wheels. He was supposed to be dragging along Blackarachnia with him, as well.

The spider's snickering laughter filled his receiver. "I am directly below you, Megatron. I am closing in on the first pod transponder beacon."

"Is Blackarachnia with you?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Good. You two proceed on; I will have Waspinator join you."

"Huh?!" Waspinator piped up. "Wazzzpinator will work with spiderbots?"

"Affirmative, Waspinator." He pointed down, where Tarantulas was supposed to be. Supposedly. "You will go now."

Waspinator placed his upper insectoid limbs on his golden abdomen. "Hmm! Wazzzpinator not like working with spiderbots. Wazzpinator always end up in scrap heap!"

"Go!!" Megatron roared.

The bug offered one final grunt of protest, then flew down to the sandy ground, which was quickly being engulfed in the storm. Once he had disappeared, Megatron turned to the others who were floating in the air around him. "Okay, those three have the first pod. Deeptooth, you and Razorshark have the next. Infero and Quickstrike are coming with me to the one with the farthest transponder. Everybody understand?"

The did.

"Excellent. Let's go."


The first thing that Optimus noticed was that Prowl was correct when he had said it was going to hell out here. He had struggled to land in the middle of the howling winds and torrential sand. He waited for the others to gather around his signal, and when they were, he went about devising their game plan. Since they had seen Megatron on the way in, then either the Maximals had beat him here, or he was already going after the pods. And since the first option was a long ways away from likely, then he and his subordinates had to work fast.

Everyone was gathered in a circle around him. Cheetor, Rattrap, Rhinox, Dinobot, Airazor, Tigatron, Silverbolt, and Prowl. There were nine of them, and eight Predacons. The numbers were in their favor, but somehow, Optimus had a gut feeling that it wasn't going to be pretty. But his gut had been wrong before. He hoped this time, it would be again.

The plan was for Rhinox, Airazor, and Prowl to go after the first pod, the nearest. Himself, Silverbolt, and Cheetor had the farthest. That left Rattrap, Dinobot, and Tigatron for the last one. He wasn't sure about Rattrap and Dinobot working together, but both of them had given them their word that they wouldn't get into it. Not now. It was too important.

He had to trust their word. He had to, if the Maximals wanted to find the newest Children of Cybertron.