eugenesis-text

He eased his shadow over a nearby Trident, locked his cannons, and sent a batch of phosphex missiles
down a pre-set firing line. He wasn’t ready for the retaliatory shot, which clipped his wing and sent him
spinning. The fire reached his fuel tanks before he had a chance to react. He caught only a glimpse of the
ground before his world collapsed.
Soundwave saw his lieutenant crash into Mt Kyth without concern. What difference did one more
man down make Devastator’s back was ablaze after a close-quarters Trident attack; the Pretender Monsters
were having difficulty maintaining their combined form; and there was Trypticon, little more than a carcass,
flame-stems rising from his open belly.
All Soundwave was interested in was the Conquest. It was heading towards the battlefield, moving
closer to ground level as it did so. As Tridents moved out of its flight path, leaving themselves wide open to
enemy attack, he realised what was about to happen. He’d got as far as pressing the communicator on his
shoulder when cluster bombs started to drop from the warcruiser’s underbelly. It looked as if the Conquest
was spraying crops – until the first wall of fire sprang up in the distance and started surging forward.
He was frozen to the spot. Panic squeezed his every circuit, pinned back his optic covers and made
him watch, aghast, as the crowds in front of him became one with the tidal wave of flame. He saw the rest
of the Air Corps flying away from the carnage, pursued by Tridents, all of them ignoring the desperate
screams of their earthbound comrades.
It was only then - when the fiery talons were within slashing distance – that he turned and ran.
It was too late: he was consumed.
On the bridge of the Conquest, Jolup was laughing. Of all the Quintesson officers he was the most
enthralled, the most aroused, by the destruction below. The ship was cruising on an ocean of fire and he
was loving every moment of it.
‘Ah, Quantax! I would have spent a lifetime in stasis for this!’
‘General’ Q-219 synthesised a cough. ‘We are down to our last block of cluster bombs.’
‘This campaign is nearly over. Continue bombing until the entire area has been cleansed.’
Ryknia turned away from the screen. ‘Don’t you think you’re being a little… overzealous The battle
was going favourably enough before… before all this. We had more regard for subtlety in my day. Patience,
guile, strategy – these things used to matter.’
‘Your strategy against the Cybertronians led to a profoundly embarrassing defeat, Ryknia. And that is
why I am giving the orders and you are a mere spectator.’ Quantax turned to Q-219. ‘Casualty projection’
‘I estimate that between 60 and 65 per cent of the Cybertronian army are dead or will die from
injuries within the next hour.’
‘I will need a more accurate figure if I am to report to the Majestrix. Once the surface has cooled
have the Death Squads sift through the wreckage.’
‘How many Quintessons were killed’ asked Ryknia.
‘You must remember,’ began Quantax before Q-219 could answer, ‘that there is always an element
of sacrifice in campaigns such as these. A depleted air force was always part of the equation.’
‘I’m impressed. You can trivialise the deaths of, what, half our men and still make it sound noble.’
‘I don’t have time to argue. If one thousand Quintessons die killing a single Cybertronian, so be it.’
He beckoned Q-219. ‘Recall all pilots, then deploy a recon team to scour the immediate area. We need to
begin the second phase.’ He turned to the three Quintecons. ‘Jolup, Ryknia, Sevax - you three are integral
to the second phase.’
‘What do you want us to do’ asked Sevax. ‘Go down there and search for survivors’
‘Nothing so base, I assure you.’
‘Good. Because we didn’t come all this way to clean up your mess.’
‘I want you to explore the planet – a geographical survey, if you will. Stick to the northern territories.
Find me an abandoned complex, preferably well hidden.’
‘I don’t get it,’ shrugged Jolup. ‘What are we looking for, a base’
‘No, this isn’t for us, Jolup. It’s for them. Remember Xenon’s motto: Now as Then.’
‘You mean the Harvest’
‘Exactly. Only this time round, we’re going to do it right…’