Yeah, I know. What a creative title. Anyway, this is my first successful Transformers story. I'd started one a few months after the first live action movie as a sequel, but it dissolved into incoherence and got too big for its own good, so I let it die. Eventually, I decided to revisit it (this was about two months before RotF was released), and I divided it into two halves, but it never went anywhere. A few months later, I came up with the idea to write three rather than two, and start in a new continuity. A quick note- there's no actual "Wreckers" in this continuity, but I decided to repurpose the name to refer to the female Autobots, because "Female Autobots" is a stupid name for a squad. But I've kept you long enough, let's get on with the story! Rated PG-13 for violence and mild language. ======================================== Prologue The sun glared down on the tarnished streets of Iacon City. No adult Cybertronians wandered down the streets, greeting each other in passing. No hatchlings played on the sidewalks. None of the elderly sat on the titanium benches placed in alternating intervals along the roads. Those days were long gone. Civil war had torn Cybertron and its inhabitants in two: the Decepticons, led by Megatron, and the Autobots, led by Optimus Prime. Megatron was once the pride of Cybertron. A genius, brilliant strategist, unbeatable combatant. He had entered the Cybertronian military immediately after graduating from Iacon University as valedictorian. Eventually, he had risen to the position of Supreme Commander during a war against another race of beings from a nearby star system, and then ascended to a position equal to Alpha Trion’s, with the citizens’ full support. Soon after his crowning as one half of the first Duumvirate, Megatron revealed his true intentions. It seemed so long ago to Optimus Prime, as he stood on a balcony near the top floor of the University’s science tower, overlooking the city. That day… He remembered it as if it had only happened the day before. Orion Pax, salutatorian of Megatron’s same graduating class, at last leading his own archaeological expedition to the Valley of the Primes, south of the Great Rift and west of the Allspark temple, where Alpha Trion was said to converse with Primus. Elita-1 had burst into his tent, alerting him to a discovery made by Perceptor. “There’s some sort of slab. Arcee and I went to look, and it seems to be related to the legend of the Creation Matrix. Perceptor found it in that cave we had to set up supports in.” Indeed, written on the slab was a record of the events leading to the loss of the Creation Matrix, which is said to have been given to the Original Thirteen along with the Matrix of Leadership by Primus after their creation, and was said to contain enough Energon to power Cybertron forever. Little was known about the Cybertronian Civil War, other than that Vector Prime, leader of the Original Thirteen, led his brethren into battle against one of their own, a traitor called the Fallen. According to legend, Vector Prime had launched the Creation Matrix into outer space, to prevent the Fallen from obtaining it and using it for his own nefarious deeds. The other Matrix, the Matrix of Leadership, was never ejected from Cybertron’s atmosphere like its brother. Upon Vector Prime’s departure from Cybertron, along with the rest of the Original Thirteen, to imprison the Fallen on a distant planet, the Matrix chose its next holder, who was given the title of Prime. This tradition carried down to the present day. Upon learning of the slab, Megatron proposed an expedition to find the Creation Matrix, based on the trajectory listed in the record on the slab. Sentinel Prime, the then-current Holder of the Matrix of Leadership, and Alpha Trion firmly opposed this move, on the grounds that Primus himself had ordered the Creation Matrix launched, and they were in no position to go looking for it. When dawn broke the next day, Sentinel Prime had been found murdered, presumably by Megatron in an effort to gain the Matrix of Leadership, which he thought could lead him to the Creation Matrix. But Sentinel Prime, foreseeing Megatron’s next actions, left the Matrix of Leadership with Alpha Trion, who had passed it, in turn, to its next holder: Orion Pax, who was retitled Optimus Prime. Megatron declared war on Alpha Trion, declaring him a traitor. In retaliation, Alpha Trion proclaimed that Megatron was the true traitor, and revealed that he had murdered Sentinel Prime. Megatron and his Decepticons were mostly from the Cybertronian military. Optimus Prime and his Autobots were mostly civilians. The only exceptions were Ironhide, heavy demolitions expert, Chromia, sniper, Ratchet, medic, and Prowl, military police, who was a Decepticon defector. The rest were like Bumblebee, who had come from Mixmaster Construction, or Jazz, seven-time Champion of the Cybertron Grand Prix. A low buzzing shook Optimus from his flashback. The space outside of the city became distorted as the plasma shields activated, coating the city in an impenetrable mask. The only ways in were the gates along the massive wall encircling Iacon, and most of those were several yards thick. Then came the ominous thud. Thud. Thud. Optimus turned to see Arcee approaching him. “Optimus,” she said, “they’ve arrived.” Optimus turned back to the source of the noise, one of the gates. “Megatron…” he growled. “Tell Ironhide and Chromia that they need to get that space bridge ready. I know it’s experimental, but if we can hit Megatron with it, we might stand a chance of finally ending this war.” “At once,” Arcee said, before turning and running back into the building. Optimus heard a grumble from the balcony directly above. “Prime! We’re moving back a few feet now!” Ironhide warned. Gears whirred as the balcony slid back a short distance into the wall. When it stopped, Prime could see Ironhide, Chromia, and Arcee readying the space bridge. He pressed a button on his arm, and a hologram of Elita-1 appeared. “Yes?” she asked. “Tell the other Wreckers to get ready. Chromia and Arcee are up with Ironhide preparing the space bridge. And tell Bumblebee, Jazz, Prowl, and Brawn to get their platoons out,” Prime said. “Right. Don’t get too banged up, or else I won’t have anything to take home,” Elita replied. “Don’t worry about me. I’m the only one who can take Megatron one-on-one.” “I don’t like your chances.” “Prime out,” Optimus said, flicking off the communicator. He reached for the rifle attached to his back, and hoisted it out in front of him and to the side, letting the butt rest in the inside of his elbow. Each thud grew louder. Prime knew that the gate wouldn’t hold much longer under this kind of stress, especially if he could hear it so clearly from so high up. The thuds gave way to booms, and the gate exploded, sending shards of metal flying into the vacated dwellings. Hordes of Decepticons swarmed in, guns blazing, destroying everything they could. An engine roared as Smokescreen shot into action. The small blue vehicle blazed down an empty street, and transformed in mere nanoseconds. The rat-tat-tat of machine guns reached Prime’s ears before he could see his fellow Autobot riddled with holes, just as the hologram faded. Behind his mouth plate, Optimus smiled. Smokescreen was, after all, a master of distraction. More engines gunned as Prowl led his division into battle, ambushing the Decepticons from the side. The white robot smashed through a red Decepticon before transforming and letting loose a volley of machine gun fire. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker raced down an alley, transforming and slashing several Decepticons’ limbs off, before shifting forms and racing off again, red and yellow blurs. “Prime, the civilians are safe below the university,” came Wheeljack’s voice over Prime’s communicator. Optimus pressed the button, and Wheeljack’s hologram appeared, just as Elita-1’s before it. “Take every precaution you possibly can. Put all sentry drones on red alert. I don’t want Ravage and Laserbeak breaking in this time,” Prime commanded. “Righ-” the line went dead. “Soundwave’s above!” Chromia shouted. “Get that bridge ready!” Prime yelled back. A red Decepticon transformed into a streamlined jet, and took flight. Ironhide responded with a volley of missiles. “It’s Starscream!” “Arcee, take care of the bridge, I’ll take care of Starscream,” Chromia said. Several rounds fired from Chromia’s sniper rifle, pinging off of Starscream’s armor. “Is that the best you’ve got?” Starscream, the former Imperial Guard Commander, shouted in reply. The sound of the tower-to-air battle faded away in Prime’s ears as he watched a tank roll through the gate. His optics focused intently on this silver war machine. Surely it had been the one to blast down the gate. One name ran through Prime’s processors. The tank’s armor shifted, the cannon folded back and rotated 180 degrees, coming to rest under the vehicle. The side armor clamped together and unfolded into wings tipped with blades. The treads folded up and under, and the engines roared. “PRIIIIIME!” Megatron screamed, taking flight in his jet mode. Megatron raced over the groups of combatants, his mind set on one goal: Kill Optimus Prime. Prime looked on, nervousness creeping into his sensors. Megatron had never seemed so fast, or deadly. Megatron transformed as he slowed down, landing on his feet at the edge of the balcony. Seven blade-tipped fingers hung from each hand, his helmet gleamed in the stark sunlight. “I’ve waited an eternity for this. It’s over Prime,” he growled. “You’ll never win, Megatron,” Prime spat. Megatron crouched forward, and then pounced, his legs like springs. The two collapsed on the ground. Prime could feel Megatron’s fingertips digging into his armor. He landed several jabs to Megatron’s face, knocking away a few of the Decepticon Commander’s teeth. Megatron’s optics seemed to see right through Optimus. “This is so like you, choosing our old Alma Mater to be our final battle ground,” Megatron taunted, scratching Prime’s chest. “OH IACON! HOW GREAT THOU ART! WITH OUR MEMORY OF THEE, WE SHALL NEVER PART!” he mocked. “This is the end,” Megatron declared, slamming his knee into Prime’s torso. “Only for you!” Prime returned. A buzzing similar to, but distinct from, the plasma shield began above. “Goodbye, Megatron!” A multi-colored beam of light shot from the space bridge generator and began to drag Megatron away from Optimus, who sat up to watch Megatron. “NO! Cybertron… is mine!” Megatron said, struggling against the light. “You… Can’t…. defeat me… Prime!” And he was gone. Prime let out a sigh of relief. He stood, and picked up his rifle, which Megatron had knocked from his hand during their short scuffle. He fired off several rounds at Starscream, who promptly retreated. “Decepticons… Megatron has been defeated! Retreat!” Starscream ordered. The Autobots cheered as the Decepticons retreated, swarming back through the gate they’d stormed through only minutes earlier. “Great work, Arcee!” Prime shouted as he gazed down at the city. “’Bout time you lazy Autobots got that thing workin’!” Prowl grumbled over the communicator link. His voice carried a condescending tone. “Prowl, that machine is highly experimental technology that my physicists and I were barely able to put together,” Perceptor replied over the link. “Let’s hope that nobody ever finds him again,” Elita-1 said. “I do, Elita. I hope that this is the last we’ll ever see of Megatron,” Prime said.