eugenesis-text

The carnage was hypnotic.
True, the quality of the surveillance footage was poor but it still offered a glimpse of a world being
reborn.
Sixshot tilted his head, engrossed, as the watched the Quintessons move across Polyhex, raking
embers. Exhaust fumes rose from the landscape. Decepticons were groped and roped, rounded up by gungrabbing
Sharkticons with hoverbikes between their legs. Clean-up vehicles nuzzled wreckage while the
wounded bubbled in vats filled with digestive foam as thick as nougat.
There was no soundtrack, but then there wasn’t any need: Sixshot was oblivious to everything except
the picture, and the milky images that grained his skin.
An injured Decepticon broke free from a chain gang by tearing off his hands, ducked a gaggle of
guards and made a run for it. The picture wobbled like elastic, flicking him fifty metres froward. Another
wobble, another fifty. And then a Quintesson guard with a scratchy black and white body took the
Decepticon’s head off with a single shot. The guards were laughing before the corpse hit the ground. The
screen went blank.
‘That was approximately 40 minutes ago,’ said Razorclaw. ‘Laserbeak chose to leave at this point,
rather than risk detection.’
Sixshot turned away from the screen, the war chamber’s lattice lights gliding over his tank-treads and
wing-fins. He stared into the shadows, where red eyes glowed like slit wrists. ‘You did well, Laserbeak. In
future, however, you do not leave Leagus without permission.’ He held out his forearm. Laserbeak shifted
his weight, let out an electronic caw and remained in the shadows. ‘Soundwave is dead, of course,’ said
Sixshot, lowering his arm.
‘So it would seem,’ said Razorclaw. ‘Along with at least 1500 others. Planet-wide, our forces are
down by over 60% - and that’s a sympathetic estimate.’
‘Where are the Autobots in all of this Another Quintesson invasion should have drawn them out of
hiding.’
Razorclaw shrugged. ‘Shall I rally the troops for a retaliatory attack’
‘No. No, that would be suicidal. You’ve seen the footage, you know as well as I do that the
Quintessons have planned their every move. They’re making an exhibition of their victory, trying to goad
the last few squads into battle. Believe me, Razorclaw, we would be crushed underfoot. We will not go
down that path. We’ll bide our time and attack when they least expect it.’
‘As you wish, commander. Laserbeak, with me.’
Sixshot waited for the door to close. Even here, two miles underground, sealed inside a converted
missile silo, he felt exposed. Alone again, he wondered when the rage would swell up inside him, when the
fine red mist would muddy his mind. But no, he knew that this time it was different. This time he felt no
anger – only fear.
From the moment he’d come on line – before the silicon-drenched robo-jelly had set on his freshly
minted frame – he’d talked a good fight. He’d used arrogance and posture to mould an image of an
overbearing soldier with grand ambitions. And, thanks to the unconscious designs of some feverish Jhiaxian
trooper, he had the bodyshell too – after all, how often do Lifers give birth to a genuine six-changer Once
every vorn Gifted and unique, he had decided to opt out of the Great Exodus, convinced that Trannis’
plans for galactic colonisation and the voracious exploitation of fecund biomorphic vessels would lead to a
Cybertronian Empire ruled by nth generation cyberclones. The basic Primal template would be Xeroxed to
hell, the sparkline would start flickering, and the only worlds worth presiding over would be those
populated by Protogens and Golden Agers. Far better to stay behind, mix with maniacs like Thunderwing
and Macabre, and work towards leadership.
He remembered his first command post as leader of Squad 117, the legendary team of Decepticons
that had existed, in various incarnations, since Megatron’s first full-scale offensive against Iacon. More
ruthless and specialised than the Mayhems, Squad 117 had been responsible for several Decepticon coups,
including the abduction of the Neutralist spatial engineer Spanner (a hit and run job that had left forty-nine
bodyguards dead). Soundwave had led 117, as had Straxus and the short-lived Scarab – it was seen as the
first step towards the Decepticon Council. The squad was immortal, a semi-mythical enclave that was
impervious to harm.
That all changed in 2008, during the first Quintesson invasion. Sixshot’s memories of the Badlands
Ambush, though scarcely called upon, were as precise and unflinching as cut glass: Tridents shredding the