Dogfight flew through the sky above Cybertropolis, enjoying the freedom that was afforded him in his vehicle mode.  The Triggerbot had found life unfulfilling since the end of the war, and flight was the only real way he had to relieve his boredom.  Well, flying and the occasional brawl, he thought to himself.

     Dogfight was a rather energetic Autobot, or at least that was how he described himself.  In truth, he was just an Autobot who enjoyed a good fight.  In times past, he had been a hothead, a Transformer who was unable to go for more than a day without fighting someone.  Fortunately, Optimus Prime had intervened.  The famous Autobot leader had taught the impetuous Dogfight the importance of discipline.  Optimus had shown him that his desire for battle, while healthy, could not be allowed to run loose.  So, he had introduced Dogfight to Cybertronian mechano-meditation, and in time, he had learned to control himself.  Mostly.

     Banking left, he swept out over the outskirts of Cybertropolis.  His sensors, both optic and radar, were sweeping the ground below him, searching.  There were two days left before the week Morrow had set was out, and Grimlock and Optimus were sending out the search parties again.  It was a huge longshot, but it had to at least be attempted.  In the absence of any reply from Earth, this was their last, best hope.

     Below him, Dogfight suddenly picked up a signal.  It was hazy and imprecise, but it was definitely registering as Decepticon.  That was pretty suspicious, as the Decepticons who remained in Cybertropolis were pretty much all in the center in the city.  It was, he decided, worth checking.

     He swung out wide around the signal, coming back at it from the opposite side.  It showed no sign of movement, and Dogfight was not really sure what that meant.  Still, he was curious, which was a dangerous thing for him.  Last time, he had been curious over just how many Predacons he could take single-handedly.

     He was low to the ground now, so he switched back to his robot mode for the landing.  He dropped a few meters, landing somewhat harder than he meant to on the ground.  His scanner was still picking up the Decepticon signal, but it was starting to move now.  Slowly, but surely, the signal was heading away from him.  And, it seemed, it was underground.

     Looking around for a moment, he spotted an access tunnel a few meters down the street.  Though Cybertron did not have a sewer system such as the Terrans required, there were pipes which ran under the cities.  Long ago, the Transformers had decided that it was dangerous for the power lines to be aboveground, as fliers would often get distracted and hit a thin wire, knocking out the power for a block or two.

     He grabbed the cover and pulled, wrenching it from its place in the ground and exposing the tunnel that dropped down below him.  Slowly, he made his way down into the maintenance tunnels that ran beneath Cybertron.  With a scanner in one hand, and a laser rifle in the other, he set off down the dark passage.

     On the streets of Cybertropolis, Earth vehicles are hardly rare.  Many of the Autobot veterans dwell within the city, and thus the sight of a Lamborghini or a Ferrari are dismissed by the other Transformers.  Much like this one was dismissed.

     A blue and white formula 1 racecar sped through the streets, a small light on the dashboard flashing on and off.  At last, the light stayed on, and Mirage came to a stop.  Transforming to his robot mode, he looked around, his actions nearly mimicking those of Dogfight completely.  He also was searching for an access tunnel, and he also spotted on quickly.  Pulling it up, he moved slowly down the tunnel, until he dropped into the main tube.  Looking around, he was surprised to see just how dark it was.  Usually the lights were left on in case maintenance workers had to come down here, but now, the tunnels were pitch black.  Fortunately, this was no problem for Mirage.  He had, not two weeks ago, had brand new optic sensors installed.  The latest model, he had found, they were capable of working as normal optics, or seeing in infrared, or scanning for energy signals, or any one of a dozen other ways.  Cycling through the options, he stopped on the infrared setting.

     Immediately, the world became clearer to him.  The power cables above him glowed brightly, and the energy that leeched off them gave the wall a nice little glow.  Setting off down the corridor, he withdrew his rifle, just in case.  After all, it was a Decepticon signal he was tracking.

     In the Council chambers, Optimus and Grimlock sat, staring at a wireframe diagram of the city.  Large sections were blacked out, but there were still several areas which registered as a bright red.  Tapping a few controls, Optimus dropped the map by a few levels, until they were looking at a schematic of the very same energy tubes that Mirage and Dogfight were wandering through.

     “This,” Optimus said, indicating the map, “is really the last remaining  area in Cybertropolis.  And most other cities, I might add.”  It was not unexpected, really, and Grimlock was a little upset he hadn’t remembered the energy tubes.  However, they were rarely used, and most Transformers never gave any thought to them.

     “I’ve dispatched messages to Rubigen and Crystal City,” Optimus continued.  “informing them to dispatch teams into the lower levels.  If the Combaticons are still within Autobot territory,” which I doubt they are, Optimus thought to himself, “this shouldn’t give them anywhere to hide.”

     Shutting down the map, Optimus turned back to face Grimlock.  “Now, what do you know about this Rear Admiral Morrow?” he asked.

     Grimlock glanced at a pad he was holding, and tapped a few keys.  Immediately, a picture of Morrow appeared, listing his height, weight, and various other features.  “Born in months after Decepticon attack, Thomas Morrow lived in rather poor settings for first years.  Described by most as a straight, by-the-book character.  No hobbies or outlets to speak off.” Grimlock said.  From the sound of it, Optimus thought he had been reading this straight off the pad, and indeed he had been.  But for what came next, Grimlock was working off his own impressions.

     “Morrow seem like a man with something to prove.  Dangerous, man like that.” he said.  It was, he had found, difficult to truly enunciate what he had thought of the man, but he tried hard.  “Seem like he could do things others wouldn’t, do things which could lead to trouble.  Grimlock not trust him.” he said.  The picture of Morrow was replaced with a replay of the conversation Grimlock had had with him.  Optimus watched it, intent on seeing what he could glean from this brief conversation between the man and Grimlock.  Once it was done, he found that he concurred with Grimlock’s assessment of the man.  Morrow did look like a man with a past, a man who might do dangerous things for odd reasons.

     “Indeed, Grimlock.” Optimus murmured.  “It would seem like this could be a problem.”  He got up out of his chair, and stood before the picture, which had once again reverted to the profile of Morrow.  Clasping his hands behind his back, he stared up at the man.

     “Have you managed to break Megatrons jamming yet, Grimlock?” he asked.

     Through the energy tube, Dogfight crept.  It had darkened considerably as he moved along it, and he had been forced to rely almost entirely on his energy detecting optics after walking for a few hundred feet.  Unfortunately, it seemed like this area of the tunnel had been powered down for some reason, and thus he was able only to get vague outlines of the space he was moving through.  The walls gave off some light, not much but enough to see by, and the passageway through which he moved was a solid black. Ahead of him, he could see that the tunnel split off into three more directions, straight ahead and one to each side.

     Just before he reached the intersection, he could just make out a strange sound coming from what he thought was the left tunnel.  However, the tunnels echoed, and it was difficult to get a good reading.  It sounded vaguely like footsteps, but they were incredibly muffled, almost as though the person was shuffling along.  Tensing, Dogfight drew both of his fusion blasters, their weight a satisfying constant in this ever-changing world he found himself in.

     He placed his back against the wall, and edged slowly towards the intersection.  The sound was getting closer, and he was now sure that someone was approaching.  From the sound of it, it was a large bot, though he moved well.  Had Dogfight not been prepared for just such an event, it was entirely possible that whoever it was might have taken him by surprise.  As it was, however, he was ready for whatever.  He only hoped that whoever it was would put up a good fight.

     In Polyhex, the Decepticons were working feverishly at things which Counter-Punch was not qualified to see.  It had begun shortly after the break, but work had begun in earnest once Megatron had received the communiqué from Rear Admiral Morrow.  Whatever it was, it was extremely large, occupying most of the outlying areas of the city.  The work also appeared to be done almost entirely by automated drones, and only the highest ranking Decepticons were allowed to visit the area.  The outside of the construction site was ringed with Decepticon troops, including the Constructicons, the Seacons, and Soundwave’s cassettes.  Nobody was allowed in, and the guards had either been given permission to use lethal force, or Megatron just didn’t care once they had, because Counter-Punch had seen at least two Decepticons take a savage beating for trying to sneak in.

     “Still wondering what’s in there, eh?” a voice said.  Turning, Counter-Punch spotted Misfire standing a few meters away.  The Decepticon interceptor was leaning against a wall, watching Counter-Punch.  In the time since the split, Counter-Punch had gotten to know Misfire a little, and the Decepticon wasn’t a bad person.  Of course, his abysmal performance on the battlefield may have influenced Counter-Punch’s decision.  Had he been a stone cold killing machine, he probably wouldn’t have bothered talking to Misfire.  As it was, the ‘Con was mostly harmless, and more of a danger to himself than his target when he was holding a gun.

     “Yeah.” Counter-Punch said, walking over to Misfire.  “I just wonder what could be that big.  And why is it a secret?” he asked, not expecting an answer.  Misfire, however, surprised him with a perfectly reasonable one.

     “Everybody thinks it’s either a weapon to be used against the Autobots or the Terrans.  And I’ve heard people talk about Autobot double agents, guys who faked being ‘Cons when the break happened.”  Misfire leaned closer towards him, dropping his voice to a whisper.  “But they say the thing Megatron’s really worried about is the Combaticons.  After getting us into this mess, they disappear, just when he needs them.  People say he’d like nothing better than to pull Onslaught apart circuit by circuit.”  Suddenly, Misfire straightened up, and returned his voice to normal.  “Anyway, we’ll find out when we find out, buddy.” he said, throwing a friendly arm around Counter-Punch’s shoulders.  “C’mon, lets go find some fun.”

     As they walked, Counter-Punch thought of the things Misfire had said.  Though the rumors of double-agent Decepticons were for now just that, how long would it take before somebody in power started getting suspicious?  Not for the first time, Counter-Punch was confronted with just how dangerous this mission could get.

     Deep within the construction zone, in the center to be precise, Megatron and Hook stand, side by side looking a data pad.  They each gesture towards a huge construct before them, and then back at the pad.  Megatron is obviously irate, and Hook is trying to calm him down.

     “I’m sorry, sir, but we just don’t have the materials needed yet.  It will take at least three months to gather enough metal alone, not to mention creating all the hardware and software needed.” he said.  “We’ve done the best we can, and with the element of surprise, we should be able to pull it off.”

     “Very well, Hook.” Megatron said.  “However, I want plans for at least another half dozen, and several more of the lighter class.  We cannot afford to win the battle, simply to lose the war.”  Hook nodded, and went off to discuss logistics with Soundwave, leaving Megatron by himself.  Pensively, he stared at the construct.

     “Soon.” he muttered.  “Soon, we shall show them what Decepticon power truly is.”

     At last, consciousness returned.  Slowly, infinitely slowly, but he was waking up.  It was ironic that this was the moment Hot Rod had taken to go out for some energon.  Ah well, Kup thought to himself.  He’ll be back soon.

     As for Kup, he was damn glad to be back.  That time spent trapped inside himself had been anything but pleasant, and it felt as though he was finally coming back to the surface, in the ocean of his mind.

     “Boy, that was the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard.” he said to himself.  He looked around, trying to see just where he was.  He had assumed that they had brought him to a treatment center, but had not known which one.  That question was answered by the sigil on the far wall.  Above the Autobot insignia was the rose crystal sign of his city, Rubigen.  He should have known, really.

     Reaching over, he picked up the intercom buzzer, which had apparently been knocked off during the time he had been out.  Pressing down on the single, bright red button, he waited for a response.  At last, he could hear somebody on the other end.

     “This is Kup.  I’ve just woken up.” he said.  “And I need to talk with Optimus Prime.  Immediately.”