The Milky Way. Alpha Centauri.
In the cosmic neighborhood of the Sol system, Alpha Centauri stood as a silent, misunderstood titan. The humans of Earth mapped its stars, unaware that within its gravity well sat a massive tallic sphere—a planet that had hosted a sentient chanical civilization for eons.
Cybertron.
From the vacuum of space, the planet looked like a dying ember. The Great War had extinguished ninety-nine percent of its natural luminescence, leaving a world of jagged obsidian and cold, scarred tal. But today, a flicker of activity within one of its last surviving strongholds was about to shift the planetary equilibrium.
Kaon City.
As the primary rival to Iacon and the birthplace of the Decepticon movent, Kaon was a sprawling industrial nightmare. It was a fortress-city designed for one purpose: the mass-production of war. Even though Iacon—the symbolic seat of power—had long since fallen to the Decepticon legions, Kaon remained the true seat of authority, commanded by the high-ranking veteran: Soundwave.
The ancient order of Cybertronian city-states had collapsed long before the first shot of the civil war. The transition from an administrative ritocracy to a Darwinian systemic collapse had been swift. Now, Kaon functioned as a hive of military logistics.
In the shadows of the central spire, lower-tier drones scurried across the assembly plaza, hauling crates of refined Energon and munitions. A few veteran warriors perford diagnostic checks on their weapon systems, their optics occasionally flickering toward a silver-grey silhouette standing near the balcony.
Soundwave.
"The Spymaster hasn't left the Citadel in decacycles," one drone whispered via localized burst to his batch-mate. "Why is he standing in the open today?"
"Perhaps a new offensive against the Autobot remnants?"
"Doubtful. He looks like he's running a landing-vector calculation. He's waiting for soone."
"Must be a High Commander. Soone from the inner circle."
"Quiet and move. Barricade is expecting these shells, and he has a short fuse since his reformatting."
Soundwave recorded every packet of their data-exchange, filtering it through his central processor. He didn't care about their gossip. As the Chief Information Officer, he monitored trillions of such signals daily. Unless the data suggested treason or a breach of gatron's standing orders, he allowed the "background noise" to persist. He had more pressing variables to calculate.
He looked up as a strange, angular Cybertronian craft tore through the smog-filled sky, banking hard toward the plaza.
With a rhythmic sequence of shifting plates and clashing tal, the ship reconfigured into a towering, mono-eyed figure.
Shockwave.
"Soundwave," the mono-eyed scientist rumbled, his voice a cold, logical monotone. "Your request for a physical rendezvous was... unusual. Why could this data not be transmitted via the secure quantum-link?"
"Information: sensitive," Soundwave replied, gesturing toward the interior of the Citadel. "Starscream's transparency: zero. A physical presence is required for the next phase."
The Citadel of Kaon.
The fortress was a monunt of Industrial Terror. It was constructed from the recycled remains of the prisoners processed in the Slting Pools—a brutal legacy of gatron's early reign. It was a place of iron discipline and zero sentint.
Inside the command tier, the two remaining masters of Cybertron stood before a massive panoramic window. Shockwave and Soundwave were mirrors of each other in their efficiency, though Shockwave's logic was driven by cold science, while Soundwave's was driven by the flow of information.
"You are departing Cybertron," Shockwave stated. It wasn't a question; it was a deduction based on Soundwave's localized energy preparations.
"Affirmative," Soundwave droned. "Starscream: deceptive. Scalpel reports unauthorized resource-allocation and the creation of unbranded T-series units. His objective on Earth is no longer aligned with the High Protector's recovery."
"Starscream's ambition is a constant variable," Shockwave noted, his mono-eye pulsing with a dim light. "If he weren't plotting, he would be non-functional."
Soundwave offered a rare, dark modulation in his vocalizer. "The ultimatum I broadcast was a deception. He expects in seventy-two hours. I will breach the atmosphere much sooner. The Space Bridge anchor is being established as we speak."
Shockwave turned back to the window, looking out over the sprawling ruins of Kaon. "And my role?"
"Kaon: exposed. I am transferring all local garrison authority to your command," Soundwave stated. "Without a Commander-class unit, this sector will fall to Autobot guerrilla insurgents. I leave the planet in your hands, Shockwave. Maintain the infrastructure. I will return with the High Protector."
Shockwave watched the drones below, his logic already calculating the troop-redistribution. "Logic dictates that your success is mandatory, Soundwave. Go. I will ensure the hearth of the Decepticons remains burning."
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