eugenesis-text

‘Rodimus and Thunderclash should never have got hurt.’ Red Alert’s voice sounded like a bad
recording, a ghost in a machine. ‘Their safety was my responsibility and I let them down. I let everybody
down. I’ll understand if you want me to resign.’
‘On the contrary, I need you back on duty as soon as possible. Who else is going to oversee our
defences’
While Red Alert didn’t smile, he at least tried to sit up. ‘I heard your speech before. You really think
the Quintessons will invade again’
‘They’re attacking Polyhex as we speak. They no doubt intend to turn their attention to us, but they
have no way of knowing our location.’
‘You said the others were reinforcing the Archives Centre in case of an attack,’ said Rev-Tone, who
had been eavesdropping. ‘Is there anything else we can do to prepare’
‘I have matters in hand, Rev-Tone. No one has anything to worry about.’ Prowl turned back to Red
Alert. ‘I should let you concentrate on getting better. First Aid says you’re well on the way to a full
recovery. I just wanted to come down here and… you know. I’ll see you later.’
He left the ward without looking up.
Galvatron came back on line quietly and without fanfare. There was no blaze of red-raw sparks, no
primal howl, no thunderclouds scudding across the sky; just a subtle changeover, a silent switch from A to
B, and consciousness stirred deep within his processors.
He knew he was captive, that much was easy: he could see the prison bars, coated in energy, and
behind them just a lonely corridor (his whole life, he thought fleetingly, was composed of corridors and
cells, throne rooms and thrones). Still, this was no Autobot prison, and it certainly wasn’t Darkmount. He
was hanging from a wall; he could feel electro-bonds around his wrists and ankles, imprinting a dark glow.
No matter. He would transform and—
Wait.
He couldn’t transform. Something had brushed against his morphcore when he’d tried to initiate
changeover, something hard and spindled. He pressed himself against the wall and felt a growth in the small
of his back: an Inhibitor Claw.
Patience.
He saw a rusting heap of robotic limbs in the far corner of the cell and realised that it was Longtooth’s
dead body. He wondered idly where the Pretender’s shell was.
He looked the other way and saw his fellow prisoner for the first time. Thunderclash was a mess. He
looked slapdash and semi-realised, like a child’s portrait; a mass of poster paint and cut-out shapes. Behind
the sticky styling and the primary colours were half-melted body plates and soiled circuitry, as if someone
had dunked him in molten lava. Only the Autobot’s optics held their form.
Galvatron checked his own body and smiled: he was virtually unharmed. True, there was the odd
scratch on the arms, the flake of paint on the torso, but nothing serious. Why, then, was he in such pain
Was he injured on the inside
He heard someone approach and screamed, ‘Release me this instant! Whoever has done this will burn
in the acids of Unicron’s maw!’
Q-6 appeared behind the bars, shrank back as he saw the prisoner, and sprinted down the corridor.
Galvatron dug his fingers into his palms. The soldier’s face had been enough. He remembered. He
remembered it all.
The throne room in Darkmount. His thoughts were heavy with plans and counterplans, with the dynamics of
treachery. His decision to promote Sixshot instead of Pitchshifter had, in retrospect, been foolish. Images of mutiny and
rebellion dragged him deeper into self-absorption, until he finally conceded that he had made a mistake. Yes, Squad 117
or not, he had made a mistake. He’d summoned Soundwave with the intention of demoting Sixshot. And then: a spasm
of light. A rush of noise that had driven him to his knees. A blurred figure exploding into the room – a Quintesson who
had slammed something into his back, paralysing him. Another flash of light, then darkness, and then—
The Quintesson had obviously teleported him here. It was impossible to know how far away from
home he was, but surely Cybertron was nearby… After all, teleport armour couldn’t carry you across
interstellar space, could it