"Steel Dawn"

[Neo Challenger]

Starscream entered Megatron's citadel unchallenged as always, past the sentries and innumerable weapons platforms, with his lieutenants Skywarp and Thundercracker in flanking positions behind him. Their armored footfalls echoed through the colossal building, once home to the High Council and Senate before a handful of pesky 'Autobots' decided they didn't like Decepticon rule, even though they'd agreed to it eagerly as a condition of enlisting the Decepticons to aid in overthrowing the Quintesson Dominion. After short and pointless negotiations with the Autobot leadership, Megatron, as Cybertron's appointed Lord Marshall, had instituted martial law and disbanded the Senate. The Senate had been only been created to mollify the Autobots anyway; the bureaucracy required to run a truly representative government would have been grossly inefficient. And occasionally, the Autobots and the Senate would come up with a useful idea. Not often, but it had happened.

Starscream passed into Megatron's sanctum, leaving Skywarp and Thundercracker to wait silently at the outer doors (silently, because Starscream had long ago ripped out their vocoders and ion-welded their mouths shut). He paused for a moment as a security scan swept over him, admiring his reflection in the burnished metal of the corridor. The scan complete, Starscream entered what was once Iacon's CommuniCore. All the cities on Cybertron had 'Cores, but Iacon's was the biggest, as befitting the planetary capital. A plethora of monitors large and small covered the 'Core's domed ceiling, displaying pictures and information from all over Cybertron, its five moons, various orbital facilities, and far-flung colonies. Megatron sat in the (surprisingly simple) chair in the center of the room, his fingers dancing over hard-light keyboards while a couple of holographic displays hovered near his head. Noting Starscream's arrival, he flicked his wrist, and the keyboards and displays dissolved into nothingness. Starscream fell to one knee, and Megatron motioned for him to stand.

"What news, Starscream?" said Megatron disinterestedly. He knew why Starscream had come, of course; you didn't rule an empire without knowing.

"I must report failure, mighty Megatron. The Autobots have commandeered the Ark, and should be launching at any moment."

"It was difficult, Starscream, to engineer the defenses and guard deployments to allow the Autobots success in their attempt without indicating a trap. I wanted them to succeed, while making the success hard-won and quite costly."

"I suspected as much, mighty Megatron."

"Yes, my loyal Iron Hand, I knew you would. So now, a majority of their leadership and their finest warriors are gathered in one place. When the Ark reaches the orbital elliptic, the axial 'Ion Tempest Gun' -- those Constructicons do come up with the most amusing names for their weapons systems -- on the fourth moon will blow them from the sky."

"There is a problem, mighty Megatron. The Matrix-bearer is on board the Ark."

The first hint of worry tinted Megatron's voice. "Alpha Trion? Yes, of course he's on board, we..."

"No, lord Megatron," said Starscream, knowing his interruption could well incur his liege's legendary wrath. "Not the Custodian.

"The Chosen."

"Optimus Prime." The venom in those two words shocked even Starscream. Once Orion Pax, low-level file clerk, the Autobot had been plucked from obscurity by seemingly blind chance to carry the legendary Matrix and was reformatted into the mighty Optimus Prime. Optimus Prime had been a major thorn in the Decepticon Empire's side, and Megatron's in particular. Megatron had personally gutted Sentinel Prime, Optimus' predecessor, but Sentinel (perhaps knowing his fate?) had earlier given the Matrix to Alpha Trion, the Autobots' elder statesman, to keep until the next Chosen appeared.

Of course, there was no way Megatron could have know that Orion Pax would become a threat. On a delivery assignment, Pax had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught up in a sweep for malcontents and shipped off to Polihex. Once there, he'd caught the attention of Kup, grizzled veteran of the rebellion and the greasepits, and one-time member of the Primulon, the warrior-priests of Primus. Kup had taken Orion Pax under his wing and stoked the fires of defiance within him. Orion Pax had entered the gladiatorial greasepits an obscure nobody, but emerged a dedicated Autobot warrior.

And if that weren't enough, Kup was also an Arbiter of Succession, charged, with a small group of fellow Autobots, to identify Potentials from whom the Matrix would choose its new bearer. Cursed Autobot religion, thought Megatron. He'd banned it, which simply drove it underground where it flourished all the more, and despite many attempts, he could not understand it. Which, he thought grimly, was a reason the rebellion had persisted for so long. But not for much longer.

A few weeks ago, while returning from a raid, a low-level laser storm forced Soundwave and his auxiliaries to divert from their flight path, flying instead over one of the still-functional foundry districts. It was Laserbeak (the original, not one of the thousands of Laserbeak camera-drones that patrolled Cybertron) who'd spotted him: Alpha Trion, caught emerging from the Autobots' long-sought secret headquarters. Soundwave had called for backup, and within minutes Trion was captured, the HQ ransacked and the mainframe scoured. The base's computers yielded very little useful information, but the real prize was Alpha Trion.

It had taken a long, long time, interrupted by frequent but unsuccessful Autobot raids attempting to free Alpha Trion, but Megatron had finally broken him, extracting from his mind a treasure trove of data: locations of resistance cells, rebellion leaders and membership, equipment and weapons caches, even the names of Decepticon sympathizers. Megatron had then vivisected the ancient Autobot, hardwiring him into the new Decepticon warship (codenamed "Ark") as the central component of the ship's computer core.

The loss of Alpha Trion had dealt the resistance a near-lethal blow, but not the coup de grace. Only capturing Optimus Prime, who as Matrix-bearer knew everything about the Autobot rebellion, would end the insurrection and put Cybertron back on the path of destiny.

Through his Laserbeak camera-drones and several tortured Autobots (he'd been maddeningly unable to coerce or corrupt any), Megatron learned of the plan to steal the Ark. With it, the Autobots hoped to find a world with ample sources of Energon they could use to rebuild their decimated forces and one day return to 'liberate' Cybertron. Megatron, of course, couldn't allow it, and saw in their plot the chance to eliminate many important Autobots in one fell swoop.

Starscream's revelation necessitated a change of plans. Destroying the Ark was no longer an option; while Optimus Prime would almost certainly be destroyed, the Matrix would survive, creating a martyr in Optimus and giving hope to the Autobots that a new Prime would someday arise. And he couldn't just lock Optimus away; even if he wasn't rescued, he'd likely escape. A bit naive sometimes, but very resourceful, Megatron knew. No, Optimus Prime had to die, and the Matrix had to be destroyed.

[Neo Challenger]

Megatron longed to be able to face Optimus in singular combat, with only their personal weapons and warrior's honor, but he knew his councillors would never approve, so it would have to be a public execution. As to the Matrix.. Megatron had no real ideas. Of course, he had to capture Optimus first, and that would not be easy.

Megatron had naturally prepared contingencies to his plans for the Ark, and now activated one of them. At his command, a coded signal was sent across Cybertron, summoning the Decepticon elite to gather at the CommuniCore.

"Deploy three squadrons of Seekers to the Ark," Megatron ordered Starscream, "and have them delay the liftoff until I instruct otherwise."

"As you command, mighty Megatron." As Starscream went to carry out his orders, Megatron contacted Shockwave.

Shockwave's face appeared on a monitor near Megatron. "Lord Marshall," he intoned, in his damned annoying monotone voice.

"I have initiated the Nemesis Protocol," Megatron said. "In my absence, you will assume the duties of Lord Marshall, with what advisors you see fit to appoint."

"As you command, Lord Marshall. I shall not disappoint you." The monitor blinked off as Starscream re-enterd the inner chamber.

"The Ark has not launched yet, mighty Megatron. The Seekers are taking heavy losses."

"As expected. It's a necessary sacrifice." Megatron called up a hard-light keyboard, then input a complex code sequence. A low rumble rolled through the 'Core, followed by a deafening KA-THUNK as a third of the facility detached from the rest. Contragravity systems engaged, driving the assembly up and away from Cybertron's scarred surface.

The view on the largest monitor changed to show the third moon, the base/ship's apparent destination. Megatron entered another code, and as Starscream watched, the moon began to change. Surface structures folded in on themselves, colossal panels divided and retracted; finally, the moon split along its equator to reveal a ship, bigger by four times than any other in the Decepticon fleet, and over twice as large as the Ark. Weapons systems of every type imaginable dotted its surface, and the void-black isoneutronium armor seemed to glow with an internal light of foulest evil. One word described this leviathanic war machine: Nemesis.

Starscream knew of the Nemesis Protocol; as Megatron's Iron Hand, there was little he wasn't privy to. He'd studied the design schematics, but the scale of the completed vessel was staggering. Starscream would have thought such a use of resources and energon wasteful, had he not known that Ratbat was the project coordinator. Ratbat was more efficiency-conscious than Shockwave, and with the Constructicons as engineers, no finer, more lethal vessel existed.

The shell of the moon broke further into smaller pieces, settling into a low orbit where they would be reclaimed for future use. Nothing wasted, Starscream thought. Repair, reuse, recycle, renew, all crucial to Cybertron, where resources were finite and of necessity micromanaged. To ensure plenty for all. This war has been so.. wasteful. Starscream knew this, but he also thoroughly enjoyed the war, as it allowed him to.. indulge himself. Besides being known as Megatron's Iron Hand, Starscream was feared as the 'Butcher of Calihex', where he singlehandedly annihilated a city and two full Autobot regiments along with it. Warriors on both sides spoke of him only in hushed tones, and his wrath rivalled that of Megatron. Cruel and merciless were extreme understatements in Starscream's case, and he reveled in it. Besides, he thought, the Autobots I defeat are recycled.. what's left of them, that is. Armor, weapons, laser cores, it was all reused, down to the last neurocircuit. Even the sparks were reclaimed: core dumped, wiped and rewritten, then used to drive the legions of new Decepticon warriors. An Autobot scientist named Cryotek had developed the process and technology of spark extraction, and Megatron had rewarded him by making Cryotek the first victim of his own invention. Now ensconced in a powerful mech-dragon battleform, Cryotek was one of Megatron's loyal advisors.

Another loud KA-THUNK brought Starscream out of his reverie, as the base/ship docked with the Nemesis, completing the colossal war cruiser. The dome's monitors all sprang to life while control consoles rose from the floor to create the ship's bridge. The largest screen showed the view forward and the Nemesis' hawk-like prow, while a few smaller monitors around the main screen displayed the Ark finally lifting off, a handful of Seekers in pursuit. Decepticon warriors filed on to the bridge, taking up positions at the various stations.

A well-oiled machine, my armies, thought Megatron. "Starscream, order the remaining Seekers to disengage; helm, lay in a pursuit course. Let them get no further than the orbital plane of the first moon."

"As you command," came the reply. Abruptly, an alarm began to wail. The main monitor image changed to a static-ridden picture of a damaged Decepticon warrior.

"This skrrrch Deathknell skrrrch fourth moon. Skrrrch and several Microns have saboskrrrch axial cannon, and initiated the firing skrrrch. Repeat..." The image went black.

"Report!" growled Megatron.

"Somehow the Ion Tempest Gun's firing sequence has been activated, but I'm reading that the plasma bleed vents have been blocked shut," reported Astrotrain, seated near the helm. "When that thing fires, it'll act like a planetary turbine. Who knows where the moon will go?"

Soundwave chimed in, anticipating Megatron's next question. "There is nothing that can be done. We must change course to avoid destruction."

Megatron nodded, and the mighty ship began to move, angling away from Cybertron at a steep climb. Megatron could only watch helplessly as the fourth moon turned into a massive rocket and tore itself free from Cybertron's gravity well, blasting towards deep space. Simultaneously, the Autobots on the Ark were escaping, using the moon's unexpected departure as cover for their own flight.

I might lose the Microns, Megatron thought, lamenting the loss of the power-boosting little robots, and Deathknell will be missed, but the Autobots will not escape me, even if I have to track them across the galaxy!

"Starscream, full power to the engines. Begin search pattern along the Ark's last known vector. They may be free, but not for long."

"As you command, mighty Megatron..."