The Last Stand of Cybertron

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Old Man Prime, Nov 25, 2016.

  1. Old Man Prime

    Old Man Prime Member

    Nov 25, 2016
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    I've been a "Guest" to this site for many years, and a transformers fan from the time I was a wee lad. This is my first attempt at a fan fiction of any type and the first thing I've written in quite a few years. If possible, I'd like some feedback on the direction and scope of this story. This takes place in G1 just after the events of Transformers: The Movie. Its an alternate timeline in which Unicron, though destroyed, was never fully defeated and has continued his war against Cybertron in a devastating fashion.
  2. Old Man Prime

    Old Man Prime Member

    Nov 25, 2016
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    Transformers: Last stand of Cybertron

    “…Now, Light our darkest hour!” said the newly anointed Rodimus Prime as he held aloft the autobot matrix of leadership. The matrix opened and unleashed its energies in a blinding blueish white light that enveloped the chamber deep within Unicron’s bowels.

    Pain and agony enveloped the giant titan. The energy from the matrix consumed him. His hands tore into his own chest as he desperately tried to let the horrible goodness out. Explosions rocked him to the core. His internal defenses were failing as the invaders inside his body seeked to escape. He could feel them gathering in his head and was powerless to stop them as they tore through his remaining eye.

    “Destiny…You cannot…Destroy…My…Destiny!” bellowed the dying world eater. The explosions grew in intensity and the mad titan, realizing his defeat was eminent, enacted a last assault against the children of his mortal enemy. He unleashed all of his remaining dark energy at the form of his hated foe. It burst from his chest with thunderous results. His body exploded. Violently ripped apart by the release of the destructive energy.

    The body of Unicron rained down towards Cybertron.

    His head would immediately find orbit around Cybertron, almost as though Primus himself had claimed it as his trophy of this final battle.

    The Autobots and their new leader Rodimus Prime, returned to Cybertron and a new golden age of peace would surely replace the millions of years of conflict after such a victory. The Dark Titan had been vanquished but as the autobots celebrated, a dark rain was falling from the sky above Cybertron…

    Six months later…

    From his sniper nest, Smokescreen watched in horror as Bravo Base exploded in the distance. His optics confirmed the swarms of sweeps cutting down his allies one by one as they tragically fought for their very survival. Desperate blaster fire lit up the area showering it in color. Were it not for all the death, it would have been beautiful.

    “Command. Requesting permission to engage.”

    He quickly scanned the massacre and targeted the architects of the assault. Hovering just behind the battle, watching the carnage unfold, were Galvatron and his lieutenant, Cyclonus. Both were monsters and murderers created from the ashes of Megatron and Bombshell by Unicron. Galvatron, admired the carnage, a smirk of satisfaction enveloped his face. He signaled his troops to unleash his Hunter Sweeps. The Hunters were non-transforming, almost alien like, mechanicals. Black as deep space, these mindless, insect like creatures were his urban assault-cannon fodder. They would swarm a building and take it though shear numbers and brute savagery. Several egg-shaped pods touched down just outside the entrance of Bravo Base. The fires from the burning base lit the dark scene as much as the smoke obscured it. The Hunters’ bodies, entwined together were writhing as though they were one. They clung to both the side of pod and each other.

    Scourge, the commander of the Sweep army, bellowed and pointed to the base. “Release the Hunters! Bring me their broken bodies!”

    The voice of Kup came over the com. “Request denied. There’s nothing you can do for them now, lad. Get out of there and back to base.“

    Smokescreen winched. “Damn it Kup! You know what’s going to happen if we let them be taken!” Smokescreen pleaded. He tightened his grip on his rifle and took aim.

    In a stern voice, Kup replied “The same thing that’s going to happen to you if you’re discovered. Now return to base before the real monster arrives.”

    The helpless Smokescreen could only watch as the dark wave of Hunters swarmed into Bravo Base.

    Another group of sweeps flew in from just to the left of his position. Smokescreen took shelter under an overhang as he counted off 15 fliers. They roared past him towards the battle, but he knew they were scanning for any bot who may have escaped the purge.

    Smokescreen scanned to the south towards the head of Unicron. Ever watching like a moon of death, it still orbited the planet. His optics strained to the maximum distance as a large form flew from its open mouth and quickly approached. This was the avatar for the destroyed world eater and was, like Galvatron, created from the fallen Omega Supreme and reformatted as his embodiment on Cybertron. Though much smaller than his original world sized body, this likeness was just as deadly and far more suited to battle Cybertronians on the planets surface.

    Smokescreen knew what his arrival would mean. The Unicronian army was taking captives and the reformatting was about to begin.

    “Damn it.” Smokescreen swore under his breath. He quickly gathered his equipment and transformed into his altmode. As he sped away, in his rear view mirror, he watched as Unicron landed. He turned his mirror. He didn't need to see what was coming next.
    He’d seen it before, more times than he’d like to admit.

    More fallen friends that he would have to fight. Bravo Base had been home to several key fighters in the resistance. About a dozen warriors, among them Jazz, Inferno and the last of the Seekers: Thrust and Ramjet were likely dead or taken.

    With that, Smokescreen disappeared into the Turbo Tube. Dark and derelict, the Turbo Tubes ran under the surface of Cybertron and were originally used as a fast transport system, taking cybertronians to far off destinations. Now that they were abandoned, they were the perfect way to travel around the planet undetected. That is, unless you were unlucky enough to run into a group of Sweep Hunters that patrolled the depths of Cybertron, looking for pockets of resistance fighters.

    Smokescreen roared down the tunnels, his engine burning with frustration over the situation above. His tires splashed though puddles of fluid that leaking casings had let into the tubes. The corners were banked and rounded, allowing him to keep up the speed through the dark tunnel as he made his way to Echo Base. “And when I get there,” Smokescreen thought, “Heads are going to roll!”
  3. Old Man Prime

    Old Man Prime Member

    Nov 25, 2016
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    From the sky above, Unicron descended to the planet surface, landing near the ruined entrance of the now burning Bravo Base. The titan smiled as he looked on work of his forces.

    “ My lord” queried Galvatron, noticing the smile. “What’s wrong with your face?”

    “ Another stronghold falls, Commander. It pleases me the progress you’ve made in such a short time.” Unicron moved torwards Galvatron. “I feel I made the correct choice in Reformatting you into this form you wear now. Where you were once weak, I’ve made you strong. In that strength, you’ve made my armies powerful.” replied Unicron.

    A small explosion tore through the side of the stronghold. From the smoke, Ramjet, a Decepticon seeker, floated backwards from the hole, firing wildly into the building. His arm cannons were glowing red as desperate laser fire poured into the hole. Hunter sweeps dove from the opening, clawing and flailing wildly as they were torn to pieces by the blaster fire. Amid the firing, Ramjet noticed the arrival of Unicron and quickly transformed into his jet mode, fleeing into the sky.

    “Megatron was weak, my lord.” stated Galvatron as he lined up a shot from this particle cannon. The flying Galvatron unleashed a thunderous blast at his fleeing former ally. The powerful kickback moved him backward a few meters as the shot caught Ramjet flush in the center of his undercarriage and erupted through him and out the top of his jet form. The Decepticon fell from the sky in a ball of smoke and flame. If he wasn’t dead before he hit the ground, the explosion upon impact took care of that.

    “I’m much more that Megatron could have ever hoped to be.” Retorted Galvatron as he watched Ramjet’s demise. “You’ve created perfection.”

    “Enough of this Grandstanding, Galvatron” Unicron declared, crossing his massive arms. “Bring the prisoners before me.”

    “Cyclonus! Get this rabble you call an army under control!” bellowed Galvatron. “Lord Unicron wants captives not corpses! Bring me prisoners!”

    “As you wish, Commander.” Cyclonus dryly conceded. “Scourge, Sweeps, bring forth the new recruits!”

    “Heh!” Scourge laughed as he looked towards Cyclonus. “New recruits. And the Sweeps say you have no humor.” He transformed into his alt mode. “You Sweeps! On me!” Scourge flew off into the wreckage of Bravo Base. Four Sweeps also transformed and gave pursuit of Scourge into the base, disappearing into the smoke and rubble.

    The damage inside the structure was immense. Walls were pocked from blaster fire hits. Exposed wires sparked with abandon and ruptured pipes belched steam and coolant into the hallways. The remains of Hunter Sweeps littered the floor, their dark energon splattered and streaked on the walls. They had performed well, acting as the cannon fodder they were created to be.

    Scourge and his sweeps transformed and landed at the command room his Sweeps had taken during the assault. He surveyed the room. Scourge, due to the aggravation of the individuals under his command not having names, had taken the initiative of giving them numbers. The lower the number, the higher the standing in the Unicronian Army. Sweep 21 was in currently in command of the com-center. Several other Sweep commandos moved about and tended to six wounded prisoners: Jazz, Inferno, Thrust Screech, Leadfoot and Bonecrusher. They were bound in Energon bindings, kneeling on the floor along the far wall. Energon leaked from their wounds. Sweep 47 sat at an Autobot console, attempting to gather information from the rebels’ network.

    “Only seven?” queried Scourge.

    “We counted twelve in the initial assault but the fighting was fierce. Seven taken captive, four confirmed destroyed and one unaccounted for.“ replied 21. “We are still searching the facility.”

    Scourge frowned. “Keep looking. If you don’t find the missing rebel, I’d keep that to yourself.” Scourge crossed his arms. “You know how Commander Galvatron, not to mention Lord Unicron, feel about failure.”

    Sweep 21 nodded in agreement as Sweep 47 pounded the Teletran unit in frustration.
    “Sir, this waste of scrap managed to wipe the central core and lock us out of the network completely.” 47 said in disqust. 47 scowled at the wounded autobot sitting on the floor at his feet.

    Mainframe, an autobot computer specialist, sat with his back against the terminal Sweep 47 was working on. He held the stub of his left forearm, trying in vain to keep his energon from leaking onto his lap. It gushed between his fingers as his arm had been blown off just below his elbow. His right leg had been mangled from a Hunter that had chomped it as he tried to escape from the invading forces. After that, his rear skeletal support had been shattered when the beast, after grabbing his leg, violently bashed him off a nearby wall. Mainframe was done and he knew it.

    Mainframe spat in the face of 47. Enraged, 47 drew back his hand and backhanded Mainframe across his face, shattering his visor and splattering energon across the room. As Mainframe rolled to the floor, 47, with speed befitting his rank, grabbed his pistol and Leaped from his chair onto the fallen autobot. He grabbed the autobots head and jammed his pistol up under his jaw. Mainframes’ missing arm outstretched in a sign of submission.

    “Sweep 47!” Scourge bellowed. “Control yourself! Lord Unicron commands live prisoners! He’s no good to us dead!”

    Sweep 47 sneered in defiance. “This piece of garbage isn’t any good to us at all! Let me do us a favor and end his miserable existence before he can taint our proud forces with his cowardice!”

    Scourge replied firmly. “Put him with the others and prep them for transport. Unicron awaits their arrival.”
  4. Old Man Prime

    Old Man Prime Member

    Nov 25, 2016
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    A destitute Kup looked at the council sitting around the table before him. The battered old bot had seen enough of war to last a hundred lifetimes, much less the one he’d lived. The scars of countless battles shown like badges on his worn frame. Slowly taking stock of the faces looking at him, he sat back in his chair, his arms crossed in frustration. “So what are we going to do?” the Autobot security chief asked.

    Warpath broke the silence first and leaned onto the table. “I say we get out there and BLAM! Show these sons of slag whose planet this really is!”

    “It’s not like we can take that whole army on with what we have, Warpath.” Thunderwing replied. “Look at what we have left here.” He acknowledged each bot present in turn. “Trailbreaker, Sunstreaker, Junkheap, Warpath.” He turned to the other side of the table. “Wheeljack, Wheelie, Swindle, Darkmount, Skullgrin, Sky Shadow and Smokescreen will be returning soon.” Thunderwing lowered his head in defeat. “We aren’t exactly the Wreckers.”

    “Wow, the bloodthirsty Decepticon is the voice of reason.” quipped Sunstreaker. He threw up his hands. “Now I know things are bad.”

    Darkmount shook his head in disgust and pointed a menacing finger at the golden autobot. “Autobot trash!” the former warlord shouted as he erupted from his seat. “Your arrogance would have given Star Scream’s a run for its money.” Skullgrin grabbed his spark brother Darkmount from behind as he tried to climb over the table.

    “Brother-Calm down!” grunted Skullgrin as he struggled to keep Darkmount in check. Sunstreaker raised his hand to take a swipe at Darkmount. To his surprise the blow never landed. Trailbreaker caught it mid swing. “Not now, not ever.” Trailbreaker forcefully stated. “I mean it, we work together or we die. End of story.”

    “Knock this slaggin’ stuff off, you two.” Kup demanded. “We’re all stressed out here and fighting amongst ourselves won’t get us anywhere.” Kup looked around the room again. As had become the norm, the supposed leader of this rabble was absent from the council. “Where’s Grimlock?” Kup questioned them. “I said I wanted everyone here.”

    Surprisingly it was Wheelie that answered. “I know where-at the wall he does stare.” Wheelie was a small time Autobot, young in age and had been rescued from the Quintesson home world by Grimlock and his Dinobots just prior to the start of the Unicon war. Normally upbeat and full of hope, the growingly despondent nature of Grimlock vexed the little bot.

    Sky Shadow had been one of Megatron’s most effective weapons in the early vorns of the great Cybertronian war. As a “Phase Sixer” he was called in to subdue a populace after the initial invasion. His ability to plan an assault had been invaluable to the resistance against the invading forces of Unicron. “It’s a war.” He flatly stated. “Soldiers are lost. It happens. He needs to get over it and get his head back in this fight.” Sky Shadow looked in the direction of Grimlock’s quarters. “What good is a leader that can’t, or won’t lead?”

    “Grimlock broken.” Skullgrin grunted. He send Dinobots to die. Was suicide mission. They knew. He knew. They go anyways.”

    “They didn’t die.” Darkmount corrected. “They were taken. Changed and enslaved by that monster. It’s a fate worse than death.”

    “Regardless, the information we got back from that mission was necessary for our next step. Their sacrifice was not in vain.” Wheeljack moved to the Teletran unit behind the group. He began punching the keys, bringing up a schematic on the screen in front of him. “Thanks to the final efforts of the Dinobots and the information from Swindle, we now know were Shockwave’s laboratory was located.” Wheeljack tapped on a location on the screen. “We had guessed it was in Iacon, via information we had gleaned from over the years, but we didn’t know exactly where to look.” Wheeljack added. “He took his secrets to the grave with him.” Wheeljack referred to Shockwaves apparent death during the initial attack of Unicon on Cybertron. “Shockwave was very secretive in both his research and the place in which he did it.”

    Swindle spoke. “If you can call what that monster was doing research.” For a bot like Swindle to be disgusted by the thought of something, it had to be bad. “Cloning, Mass displacement, bio-engineering, if even half of what I’ve heard is true, when we get there, we’ll be in for some surprises.”

    “The only rumor that matters is if he actually had a working connection to Vector Sigma and thus to Primus, himself.” Wheeljack stated . “If we have any hope of recharging the Matrix and ending this war, we will have to locate the Primus Chamber in the heart of Cybertron.”

    “You really think that hunk of junk will wipe out all of Unicron’s creations?” Thunderwing inquired. “I know this has been our final hope against this horde, but look at it. The Matrix is broken. Empty. Your Rodimus Prime unleashed its energies and destroyed Unicron’s body, but only his body. He should have opened it in Unicron’s head and finished the monster. Rodimus failed, the Matrix failed, and we’re all paying for that failure.”

    “The lad had faith in the Matrix and in the power of Primus.” Kup retorted and turned to the artifact encased in glass on the wall beside them. Its metal casing shined in the lights from the command room, but its center jewel was dark and lifeless. What Thunderwing said was true. The Matrix was dead.

    “And he paid for that faith with his life.” Thunderwing responded. “I don’t know that we should make the same mistake.”

    “But, shouldn’t have Rodimus’ spark have joined with the Matrix when he died?” Sunstreaker asked. “Isn’t that how it should work? You die carrying the Matrix, you become one with it?”

    “Presumably, Rodimus didn’t enter the Matrix because he ejected it before his end at the hands of Galvatron. It was a last desperate attempt to keep Galvatron from getting his hands on it again.” Trailbreaker added.

    “I don’t think we can presume anything.” Thunderwing stated.

    “Let’s go over what we know.” Wheeljack said trying to diffuse the situation. Turning to the computer, he again typed on the console. Keys blinked on and off as he quickly keyed the board. “In the final moments of Unicron’s defeat, he unleashed his “Dark Energon” full force at Cybertron. The planet’s gravity held it in orbit and it rained down on the surface here in quadrants 2 through 34, covering nearly a quarter of the surface of Cyberton in its wake. Thousands of Cybertronians were caught by this down pouring and were changed, like the Decepticons that fell at the Autobot City conflict, into Sweeps almost immediately. “

    “They were reformatted.” Sunstreaker corrected.

    “Yes, Sunstreaker, they were reformatted.” Wheeljack agreed. “As the rain fell, something inside of Cybertron reacted.” Wheeljack pulled up another screen. “Some type of force field went up under the surface of the planet, thus sheering off the outer half mile or so of Cybertron. The outer layer is now like an egg shell, separated from the inner core. We need to get to the center of Cybertron but we can’t get more than a half mile under the surface. Although we do know is the inner core and the outer shell is rotating at the same speed.”

    “Meaning what?” asked Sky Shadow.

    “Meaning something is still attached.” Wheeljack answered. “If the outer shell was completely free floating from the inner core, theory states that the inner core should be spinning faster than the shell. There must be some sort of tether or tethers still connecting the shell and the core.”

    A look of puzzlement came over the face of Warpath. “And this is important, why?” The tank bot asked.

    “Presumably, the force field was enabled to prevent Unicron...” Wheeljack paused and chose his next words carefully. “…From infecting Cybertron itself.” He turned to the group of bots that had gathered behind him. His face was grave as death. “That is what we imagine his ultimate endgame is.”

    “Infect Cybertron, reformat the whole damn planet and create a new body.” Darkmount added. “Ingenious.”

    “If there are tethers holding tying them together, perhaps we can use them to access the core and get to the Primus Chamber.” Wheeljack finished.

    “If I was a betting bot” stated Trailbreaker, “I’d bet the Well of Sparks is where at least one of the tethers is. Think about it. If that is where our sparks go to rejoin Primus, there has to be an access way down to the core.”

    “The Well of Sparks is religious mumbo jumbo.” Swindle stated. “It’s a story told to proto forms to get them into their CR chambers.”

    “At this point, I’m inclined to put a little faith in the stories of old.” Kup interjected.

    “Faith and hope is no way to plan a battle strategy.” Sky Storm mused. “It’s a good way to prepare for death.”

    “One thing is for sure, we don’t have the bots to pull this off. Shockwaves lab, the Well of Sparks, and Swindle’s obsession with getting to Lockdown’s old lockup, it’s going to be a lot to ask for the thirteen of us. Plus we don’t even know where to begin to look for the Well.” Darkmount trailed off.

    “We’re gonna need that tech.” Swindle warned. “There’s some good stuff there. I know, I sold quite a bit of it to him.”

    “KAPLOW!” Warpath remarked. “I’ll contact the Arielbots at Trypticon Base and see if they can… BLAM! assist us.”

    Kup elbowed Warpath in the gut. “Knock that slaggin’ stupid stuff off!”

    “Somebody better fill in Grimlock.” Thunderwing said.
  5. Old Man Prime

    Old Man Prime Member

    Nov 25, 2016
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    From out of the wreckage of Echo Base, Scourge and his huntsmen emerged, their alt modes covered in suet. From them, Energon ropes held the captured Cybertronians in tow, as they dangled air born below. They were bound with their arms behind them and their arms tied to their sides, helpless and immobile although each one struggled against their bonds. In turn, Jazz, Inferno, Thrust, Screech, Leadfoot, Bonecrusher and Mainframe were cut from their tethers and dropped to the ground, their clanging bodies delivered to the waiting feet of Unicron. The dark titan smiled.

    “Excellent work my Sweeps!” Galvatron spoke with glee as he landed in front of them. “A fine group of recruits, they shall be fine warriors in the Unicronian armada.”

    A Sweep in behind the prisoners whistled a signal and shouted “HUP! HUP!”

    Hunters sprang out from all parts of the ruined base. They ran on all fours, tails flailing behind them and teeth barren as if to attack. Again the Sweep handler shouted “HUP!” and the monsters stopped and sat down, just short of the prisoners. “HOME!” the handler yelled to the pack. They turned and went to their landing pods and one by one, stacked themselves back into a hellish egg shape of writhing bodies. Once loaded, the pods lifted into the air and several Sweeps transformed into their ship modes and accompanied them on their journey back to whatever hell such creatures come.

    While attention was focused on the hunters, Jazz opened comms on Headnet, the Autobots’ secret cranium to cranium broadcast channel that linked all autobots in a battlefield situation as a way to communicate silently and instantaneously. Headnet was a technology the Autobots shared with the Decepticons once a truce was struck in the wake of Unicrons’ assault on Cybertron. Although the range was limited, it would be sufficient to communicate with the others held prisoner with him.

    “We need a plan, like now.” Jazz thought.

    “I can’t transform.” Offered Thrust.

    “There’s no bargaining with them, that’s for sure.” Broadcast Bonecrusher.

    “We can’t flee and we can’t fight, I’d say we are screwed.” Screech added.

    “Not like this, man.” Despair came from Leadfoot. “Not like this.”

    Jazz quickly checked his surroundings. Behind then were Sweeps guards, but their attention was focused to the left, as they watched the Hunters slithering onto their pods. In front was Galvatron, Scourge and Unicron. To the right, only Cyclonus blocked a path to a Turbo Tube and quite possibly, a route to freedom and a few automated defense systems, if they could reach it and if they were still operating. It was a lot of ifs.

    “Don’t give up hope yet, boys. Look to your right.” Jazz offered.

    “We’ll never make it” thought Mainframe. “The statistical probability is…”

    Jazz cut him off. “Never tell me the odds! We need a distraction.”

    “I got this.” Inferno answered.

    The silent conversation went undetected by their captors. As the pods lifted off, attention returned to the matter at hand.

    “Fine beasts my lord.” Cyclonus spoke.

    “Fine indeed.” Added Galvatron.

    Inferno’s face was splattered with leaking Energon. His chassis was dented and cracked with several blast holes still smoking in his chest. His eyes blazed with a fury and anger that was his namesake. “You can take those fine beasts and shove them right up your recharge socket.” Inferno said in defiance.

    His words were met with a swift response from Galvatron. A right fist landed across his already damaged face. The blow caught him flush, shattering his nose. Energon flowed freely from the wound. Inferno spit out a tooth.

    “LOWLY DOG!” Galvatron screamed at his victim. “Is that anyway to speak to Lord Unicron, your new master? I admire your spirit but you will need to learn OBEDIANCE!” Galvatron looked down at his broken plaything. Inferno began struggling with his bonds and swelling with rage.

    Amused, Galvatron commanded his troops. “Sweeps! Hold him!”

    Two of the Sweeps guarding the seven reached down to pick a struggling Inferno from the ground and drug him to his feet. They each hooked one of Inferno’s arms and pulled him backwards away from the other prisoners, his heels dug into the metal surface causing sparks.

    “Get ready.” Inferno broadcast to his fellow captives.

    “No, you…you can’t do this. There has to be another way.” Pleaded Jazz. “We can all get out of this.”

    “Not this time.” Inferno answered. “ Say goodbye to Chromia for me.”

    Galvatron approached the restrained Inferno whom was still fighting against his captors. His hands snapped out at Inferno and found themselves around his throat. They began to tighten as Galvatron’s eyes burned as red as flame. “You will be a great warrior in my army. Such courage! Such anger!” Galvatron gloated.

    Inferno knew the moment was now. He disengaged all self preservation and internal safety protocols. He overclocked his spark chamber field, drawing energy from every system in his body. His internal temperature began to rise at an alarming rate. “The more energy, the bigger the bang.” Inferno thought to himself. “Keep talking loudmouth.”

    “Before I join your little gang, Galvatron, there’s something you should know about me.” Inferno fought to form words through his broken jaw. “It’s how I got my name…”

    He began to count via Headnet.




    “It’s not just my temper…”


    “It’s also got to do with my temperature.”

    Enraged, Galvaton drove his face towards the autobot and smashed Inferno’s face plate with a vicious headbutt, shattering his optics and cracking his cranial compartment.


    Inferno began to glow red at his chassis reached critical mass. Almost nose to nose, it was easy for Inferno to spit into the face of Galvatron. The super hot liquid sizzled on Galvatron’s cheek, and for an instant, puzzled the grand commander of Unicron’ s forces. In that instant, the Sweeps holding Inferno’s arms realized their hands were burning.


    Galvatron’s face changed to panic as the realization of what was about to happen formed in his cerebro circuits. He had just enough time to shield his face with his left arm and rotate his body a half turn away from the erupting Inferno.

    As Inferno’s spark chamber ignited, his final thought was “I got you, you sonofa…” The darkness that overtook Inferno’s mind was replaced with the explosion that tore apart his body. The two unfortunate Sweeps that had been holding him were torn to pieces, adding more shrapnel to the shockwave that came from where the three were standing.

    Galvatron was blown back from the epicenter of the blast. His body was torn asunder as time seemed to slow to an instant for the doomed warrior. In slow motion, he watch as his arms flew from his shattered torso. He realized his head had sheered from his body as it tumbled forward in a spin, and watched his spark chamber pull free from his chest and out his neck where his head used to attach.

    As his head hit the ground, Galvatron realized this was perhaps the only reason he still functioned. His spark chamber was still attached to his head.

    The Autobots and Decepticons made their break for freedom. Jazz was the first to his feet, in the confusion, he landed a round house kick to the face of Cyclonus and knocked the purple warrior face first onto the ground. He landed with a clank and bounced onto the severed head of Galvatron.

    The six ran towards the Turbo Tube. Slow to react, the Sweeps were taken by surprise. As the escaping prisoners neared the tunnel, a slow stream of laser blast began to shoot past them, increasing in intensity as they got nearer to freedom.

    “Enough!” bellowed Unicron. The evil titan transformed with a swiftness unheard of. He appeared much as his former self, though a much smaller ball instead of a giant, planet eating world. The demonic orb opened itself and terrible waves of red energy spewed forth from him towards the escaping Cybertronians.

    Incredible pain shot though their circuits as they fell to the ground. Each bot writhed in agony as the energy continued to pour out of Unicron.

    As Unicron spoke, his great maw opened and a bright light was cast out onto the fallen Cybertronians. “You will be given new bodies and a new purpose, so that you’re lives may have meaning. That purpose is a lifetime of servitude to me. You will join the ranks of my army and you will find those who would fight back against us as we claim this world and take our vengeance against my hated rival, Primus.”

    Jazz, rolling on the ground in pain and clutching his chest, weakly managed to speak. “Nooo… We… will never… serve… you!” The agony intensified.

    “Then you are fools.” Stated Unicron. “You belong to me now.”

    The rings around Unicron began to glow green as they powered up with dark energy. From six points around them, rays of dark matter shot forth, enveloping the six fallen Cybertronians where they still lay. Their color turned to grey as the light turned to purple. Their bodies began some sort of digitizing process as their forms were broken down into basic building blocks, reverting to a protoform like state.

    “Fascinating.” It was the last thought Mainframe had.

    Slowly, new forms began to take shape. A final wave of purple and green energy washed over them. Metal hardened. Wires and cables ran to connect extremities. Components attached and activated.

    Their eyes flickered to life. Unlike Sweeps of past reformatting, these were outfitted with Earth based war plane alt modes.

    “Behold,” Unicron said. “You will be a new breed of Sweeps. I will not be content in the conquest of Cybertron any longer. You will be the first of my minions to prepare for the further quest of the Autobots new home of Earth!”

    The newly reformatted Sweeps stood before Unicron.

    “AHHHHH!” screamed Cyclonus. “Master! Galvatron!” Cyclonus was sitting on the ground, seemingly cradling the severed head of the fallen Galvatron. This was not the case. Galvatron’s head was actually tunneling into the chassis of Cyclonus. Claws and cables, sprouting from Galvatron’s bare spark chamber and head, had almost completely buried themselves into his chest. In seconds, only his face remained recognizable.

    Unicron turned to the shouting warrior. “So, Galvatron still lives. Excellent.”