"We honor the cause of our fallen friends by recycling these shells that once housed their noble sparks, so that in death they can still serve the cause that they so honorably devoted, and gave, their lives for. We will always remember them while we remain in this existence, and look forward to seeing them again when it is our turn to pass on. "Til all are one."

""Til all are one!" The assembled Autobots echoed the final statement of Prime's eulogy for the seven Autobots slain by the Predacons. The only survivor of the attack, Streetwise, stood silently and watched as the shells of his former squad-mates were carried back into the Ark to be stored and processed at a later time. His frame had been repaired, but the emotional damage caused by watching them all die would remain with him for the remainder of his life. Of course, he and all other Autobots had already had many vivid memories of watching dear friends die. But though the feeling was nothing new, it still stung.

As the assemblage began dispersing, Ratchet approached Optimus Prime. "Prime, now that everyone seems to be in fully functioning condition, and several of the other Autobots are competent to repair the base defenses. I would like the opportunity to study the severed leg of the Predacon with Wheeljack."

Prime nodded. "That's a good idea. The sooner we know how that technology works, the sooner we can develop an adequate method of detection. Or perhaps even utilize it for our own advantage."

Ratchet nodded and walked over to Wheeljack. The two conversed briefly before walking back up the Ark's entrance ramp and headed toward Wheeljack's lab.

*******************************************

"Aren't you finished yet!?!"

"Shut up! I tend to work faster without an idiot shouting over my shoulder."

"Who are you calling idiot, you pit-stain!?!" The hulking gray and red robot stepped forward; ready to replace the verbal attacks with physical ones. The two electro-charge battering rams hummed with energy upon the ramming wedge positioned behind the top of his head, which rested thirty feet above the ground. The battering rams and the serrated ramming wedge were utilized in his tank mode, but they made his massive robot mode all the more intimidating.

The intended object of his verbal, and soon to be physical assault turned away from the consul that he had been working on and started toward his would-be attacker, seemingly just as eager to trade blows. Like his companion, this robot was also a staggering thirty feet in height, enormously built, and colored in gray and red. To either side of his shoulders were huge metal flails, more weapons primarily used for vehicle mode, but made for daunting features in robot mode as well.

Moments before the two enraged robots reached each other, a third robot stepped between them. "Stop!" This one had similar coloring and overall basic design scheme, but was three feet taller and even more hulking than these two. Bearing the treads of a battle tank and traits of a liquid-traversable attack craft, it was clear that this robot's alternative mode was that of an amphibious assault vehicle. The two would be combatants stopped momentarily to look at the uninvited peacemaker, unsure of whether to continue their advance on each other or to attack the robot trying to intervene.

"Yeah, stop!" Leaping down from the hole in the ceiling of the chamber was a fourth robot, one colored similarly to the others but whose build was significantly more slender. The light metal wings jutting out from his back, revealing his vehicular form to be that of an attack glider, slowed his descent. He walked toward the three larger robots. "I have no idea of what's going on here, but I do know that we're going to need all of us in tip-top shape. It appears nobody is aware of our revival, and for now that's for the best. So that means no tearing each other apart. Is that understood?" The winged newcomer nodded toward the robot that had been working at the consul, an indication that he should return to his previous task. The flail-mounted robot nodded back and returned to the consul.

The originator of the ruckus stepped toward the winged robot. "Our revival is known. Somebody sent that runt here to do wake us up." The menacing robot nodded to something behind the winged newcomer.

All four robots turned to look at the orange Minibot standing in the corner. The slender robot, which was still more than two and a half times the size of the Minibot, smiled at the tiny robot. "I don't know, I get the feeling he got down here and reawakened me by accident."

"There were buttons on the display-for a game I thought I could play." The orange Minibot chirped out.

"That's it, I'm gonna kill him!" The battering ram adorned robot began marching toward the Minibot. The largest robot of the group ran in front of him, once again stopping him from a fight. "No! Swoop tell Sludge to protect Minibot! Sludge not let Slag kill him!"

Slag glared up at Sludge and gritted his metallic teeth. So infuriated was he that he didn't hear the hissing sound coming from behind him. "So the big, mindless oil-wader feels like scrapping. Well then, big boy, LET'S GO!" A giant "whoosh' echoed through the chamber as Slag ignited the plasma sword that he had snatched from a hip-mount in the blip of an optic.

"STAND DOWN!"

All optics turned toward the last of the stasis pods, one that had only a few moments ago been sealed. Though slightly disoriented, the robot exiting it was the very definition of physical power. Standing thirty-two feet tall, and built more powerfully than any of the others, this newcomer exuded authority. The Minibot instantly realized that this was the leader of the group.

The robot responsible for awakening the leader stepped away from the consul. "Slag's been feeling especially ornery. The forced stasis didn't have much of a calming effect on him."

Slag turned completely around and focused his optics on the speaker. "Why don't you polish my chassis, Snarl!?!"

The leader stepped between them and held out his hand to stop the insults. "That enough Slag! Me Grimlock need to know what going on!"

The winged robot, whom the Minicon had determined to be Swoop as he had been the one to order the big one known as Sludge to protect him, stepped forward and addressed Grimlock. "Well, you remember where we're at now, right?"

Grimlock nodded. "Anti-chamber beneath Tarn Battle-Pit."

Swoop nodded. "Yes. The doors are still sealed, but the ceiling is torn." Swoop pointed up at the rupture above them. "This hole leads to the Battle-Pit, but I don't think we're in Tarn anymore."

Grimlock's optic narrowed. "What Swoop mean?"

"Well, it appears that the Pit has been buried. REALLY BURRIED."

"What mean REALLY BURRIED?"

"Where the sky used to be is metal. There were two passages dug into the metal, one large and one very large, and both looking like they were made recently. In fact, it appears that the larger one nearly caused a cave-in. We're lucky that all the metal above us didn't come crashing down. Anyway, I rocketed up through the very large one, which doesn't appear to be very stabile, and after many miles I finally reached the surface. There was practically nothing there. No buildings, no energon silos, no smelting pools, no robots, no anything."

Grimlock rubbed his head as he tried to make sense of this. "Swoop first to awaken?"

Swoop nodded.

"How you wake up?"

Swooped jerked his thumb at the Minibot. "This thing was at the controls when my pod door opened. There was no indication of anyone else with him."

Grimlock turned his attention to the small, orange robot. "What Minibot's name and what Quint does Minibot serve?" The booming voice nearly knocked the robot over.

Once the Minibot restored his balance he smiled and replied. "Wheelie is my name, now let's go and play a game."

"NO! What Quint do you serve!?!"

A confused look came over Wheelie. "What is the meaning of "Quint', please give Wheelie a hint."

Grimlock was losing what little patience he had to begin with. "QUINT! QUINTESSON!?! Devious, tentacled scum-buckets that run planet?!?"

Wheelie just laughed. "I am not familiar with that word, its use seems so absurd."

Slag had had enough. "Can I kill it now!?!"

This time Snarl found himself agreeing with his belligerent comrade. "Yeah, let him. Anything to stop that annoying rhyming."

"SHUT UP!" Grimlock yelled out without turning around. "Me, Grimlock, trying to conduct interrogation!" Grimlock lowered his tone and focused on Wheelie. "Wheelie say he never hear of Quintessons?"

"HE'S LYING! He's just one of those House-Bots that polishes Quint tentacles and thinks he's better than the rest of us! They sent him here to trick us some way so that they can catch us off guard and kill us!" Slag couldn't understand Grimlock entertaining the notion that this Wheelie might be telling the truth.

Grimlock whirled around and stared down his enraged subordinate. "If Quints want us dead, they could kill us while we in stasis! And me Grimlock not know any Quint that have patience to have annoying Minibot like Wheelie around. What Quint make such silly, rhyming Minibot anyway?"

"Wheelie used to be a very good speaker, until hit by a missile of a Decepticon Seeker." The high-pitched voice announced.

Grimlock turned back toward Wheelie. A rare feeling of empathy washed over Grimlock. He too knew how it felt to have once been an eloquent speaker, only to have that eloquence forcibly removed. "Slag stand down. Wheelie not be harmed."

"Grimlock-" Swoop hesitantly spoke up. "Just now I ran an internal diagnostic check, and came across two unusual items."

"What unusual?"

"First of all, either my internal chronometer is way off or we've been in stasis for over one hundred twenty five thousand vorns."

Grimlock, Slag, Snarl and Sludge all checked their internal chronometers as well, and all were shocked to realize that their results matched Swoop's.

Grimlock shook his head. "What second unusual thing?"

Swoop frowned. "This is a bit larger of a problem."

*************************************************

"You know, I was happily letting this simmer on the back burner-" Wheeljack noted Ratchet's confused expression. "Human term. Anyway, until you expressed an interest in messing with this thing I was focusing on building those new frames that Prime had commissioned. Now this stinking, bloody mess is getting my attention and Prime's air support is simmering on the back burner."

Ratchet positioned his optics to view portions of Headstrong's dismembered rhino leg through a powerful microscope. "Between the Insecticons and the Predacons, the damage to the ship alone justifies studying this. Add the seven slain Autobots to the equation, and I'd say that this takes precedence. The Predacons are just way too deadly to be able to sneak up on our positions."

Wheeljack nodded. "Well then, let's get to work."

Ratchet, who's optics remained fixed on the microscope's lens, blurted out something he noticed. "Nanites!"

"What?"

"As much as I hate him, I have to admit that Shockwave is a very clever Decepticon." Ratchet moved away from the microscope so that Wheeljack could peer through it. "He's utilizing nano-technology in a way where it mimics the organic matter of the creature whose genetic material is scanned into it. Hair, flesh, blood-and that organic simulation somehow shields any trace of the mechanical being underneath it from our sensors."

Wheeljack nodded as he caught sight of what Ratchet had observed. "That's what we've got here all right. Plus, it looks like there's some sort of energy conversion processes taking place here. I-could-very well be wrong here, but-it almost-looks like-the nanites-are converting actual organic matter into energon."

Ratchet smiled at Wheeljacks observation. "Of course. Magnus told Prime that the Insecticons and Predacons were created to provide Shockwave with soldiers that didn't rely on energon. Warriors that were famine proof."

Wheeljack looked up at Ratchet. "We really need to figure out how this stuff works, sooner rather than later."

Ratchet nodded. "Let's get Jetfire involved. He's becoming quite the exceptional scientist."

******************************************************

The sleek, orange vehicle darted between the four heavily armored, treaded tanks. For Wheelie, it was a fun game weaving around his new companions. For the new companions, it was an annoyance. Even Sludge was losing patience with the Minibot. "Can I kill him now!?!" Slag's question was aggressively, yet respectfully asked.

"No. Need Wheelie to locate and make contact with other Autobots." The huge, gray war machine that was Grimlock replied.

"I don't understand why we need Autobots." Sludge's voice came from what appeared to be an alien gunboat resting on tank treads.

Grimlock, not wanting to take the time to describe a problem that Sludge probably wouldn't understand anyway, gave a simple answer. "Me Grimlock have question for Autobot medic. Also, me Grimlock want to find out what going on here on Cybertron, and description from Wheelie take too long and give me Grimlock headache. Me Grimlock need questions answered by robot that talk right."

Slag's snicker emanated from a tank armed with the serrated, pointed wedge and the two electro-charge battering rams that had been visible in robot mode mounted to the front of it. "Yeah, Primus forbid that Grimlock deal with anyone that has poor grammar."

"Slag lucky me conserving energon, otherwise me Grimlock put Slag back in stasis with fists."

Up ahead Swoop could be seen returning to his comrades. The battle glider transformed and landed in robot mode in front of the car and four tanks. "I was seen by twelve Decepticons. They're headed this way now."

"Description?"

Swoop replied. "Three are aerial combatants, most likely these "Seekers' that Wheelie tried describing earlier. The rest are treaded ground vehicles. All smaller and less armored than us, but heavily armed. The Seekers are faster than I am, but I have them on reflexes, maneuverability and durability. Normally I wouldn't consider them to be more than a minor obstacle, but our current medical condition changes things."

"Hmmm. Swoop suggest attempt to avoid them?" Swoop nodded. "Me Grimlock note Swoop's suggestion, but me Grimlock disagree. Wheelie say Decepticons run planet. Only Swoop, maybe Wheelie, fast enough to avoid Decepticons. So Decepticons catch Sludge, Slag, Snarl and me Grimlock. When Decepticons attack and see Sludge, Slag, Snarl and me Grimlock take their ordinance without sustaining damage, they call for reinforcements. Maybe Sludge, Slag, Snarl and me Grimlock ignore reinforcements attacks, and maybe even reinforcements' reinforcements, but soon too many reinforcements for even Sludge, Slag, Snarl and me Grimlock to ignore, or even defeat. No, Swoop, Sludge, Slag, Snarl and me Grimlock destroy these Decepticons quickly, before reinforcements called."

Swoop nodded. Though he spoke like a cretin, Grimlock was actually fairly bright. Swoop remembered the charismatic pit-warrior that Grimlock used to be, the threat his words posed to the Quintisson overlords, and the compromise reached by the Quintisson governing body and the private Quintesson factory owner that had created and owned Grimlock, Swoop and the others. A compromise that left the sharp mind of a natural leader trapped behind the vocabulary and grammar of a simpleton. Even the simple-minded Sludge was more coherent than Grimlock. But those that could look past the poor syntax would find an inspiring leader.

"All agree?" Affirmative grunts were heard all around. "Good. Pit Lords, destroy Decepticons hard and fast. Me Grimlock not want single transmission get to other Deceptions. Understood!?!"

More affirmative grunting.

**************************************************

"Lord Shockwave." Ratbat waited for the Military Commander to respond.

After several second Shockwave's emotionless voice came through the communications consul. "What is it Ratbat?"

"Squad eighteen forty-seven failed to check in."

A moment passed before Shockwave's response. "They are patrolling the northern rim of the Medriac sector. There is less than a three point four percent chance that they ran into any hostilities. I assume that you have already sent an inquiry to the squad-leader, Heatwave?"

"Yes sir. There was no response."

Another few moments passed before Shockwave's response. "Though the likelihood of technical difficulties out-weighs the chances of conflict, I will still investigate. The realization of Optimus Prime's continued existence has caused the Autobots to be much more daring. Perhaps they are amassing in the Medriac wasteland."

"Yes sir." Ratbat knew that the conversation was over, but left the communicator on nonetheless. He almost felt sorry for Shockwave. The Autobots had become more aggressive than they had been in tens of thousands of vorns, yet he no longer had his elite force of Predacons. Megatron had demanded that they be transferred to Earth, and without the Predacons, Shockwave was left with only himself as an image that could create a significant psychological advantage over the Autobots. And even he wasn't as feared as he used to be after his being handily defeated by Optimus Prime was broadcast all over Cybertron. Now Shockwave was flying from city-state to city-state, quelling endless Autobot uprisings. Yes, Ratbat would have felt sorry for Shockwave had he not wanted the Military Commander's position for himself. But the Communications Officer would have to bide his time. He didn't have a chance of killing Shockwave himself, and it was unlikely that whatever was going on in the Medriac sector would pose any threat the purple war machine. But he could always hope.

Four hours passed before duty called Ratbat back to the communications board. "Ratbat, come in."

The voice was instantly recognized. "Yes Shockwave."

"Squad eighteen forty-seven has been annihilated. There are no survivors. The evidence points to a very significant engagement. The fallen Decepticons fired off a great deal of ordinance, and the limited number of bomb craters and scorching on the surface would indicate that most of the ordinance connected with the intended targets, yet there are no enemy corpses and only the tiniest portion of the remains strewn about the battlefield do not belong to the Decepticon squad. The markings leading to, and away from the battle scene are of four large, treaded vehicles and one smaller, wheeled one. The attack patterns and much of the damage also indicates that at least one of the enemy combatants was a flier."

Ratbat tried to follow the rapid-fire details that Shockwave was delivering to him. "So what does this mean?"

"The indications are that whatever squad eighteen forty-seven faced was able to sustain enormous punishment, were fairly small in number, and were extremely competent warriors. The tracks are leading north toward Iacon. Dispatch seven of the squads stationed there toward my position. Either they or I will intercept and destroy whatever caused this destruction. Shockwave out."

***************************************************

"What now?" The gray tank emitted Grimlock's clearly impatient voice.

Swoop looped down, transformed and landed in front of his comrades. "More Decepticons. Twenty Seekers and thirty-four ground vehicles. At your current rate of speed it will be fourteen minutes before we reach them."

"Hmmm. Fifty-four Decepticons. That a lot even for us. Any way to avoid them?"

Swoop shook his head. "Not that I could see."

"PerhapsIcanbeofsomeassistance."

The four tanks instantly transformed and aimed their weapons at the speaker who had appeared seemingly from nowhere. "HOLD FIRE!" Grimlock held his hand out. "It an Autobot."

"He is Autobot for sure, an old friend named Blurr." Wheelie walked out from the Pit Lords and approached his old friend.

"Wheelie,isthatreallyyou? Wethoughtyouhadbeenkilledseveraldozenvornsago! Wait'tilMagnusseesyou!"

Wheelie laughed. Grimlock watched the two lock hands to greet each other and groaned. "Why no Autobots talk normal anymore?"

Suddenly an explosion sounded out, sending Sludge's frame skipping across the ground and knocking the other Autobots off their feet. The other four Pit Lords were instantly upright again and turning toward their rear, ready to face whatever had attacked them. Half a mile away a purple cannon hovered in the air, smoke curling from its hexagonal barrel opening. Grimlock cautiously twisted his head and looked over his left shoulder. He watched Sludge slowly stir, gingerly attempt to get to his feet, collapse, and attempt to stand a second time. He finally did recover, but the blast had obviously caused him a great deal of damage. "Cannon pack more firepower than anything we face before, even Guardians. Be cautious."

Just as Grimlock uttered his warning a second blast shot forth. This time ready for it, the four Pit Lords easily leapt away in time to avoid it, displaying reflexes that Shockwave would have considered very unlikely for robots of such bulk. The blast created a huge crater and shook the ground, but caused no damage to the Autobots.

Grimlock, Slag and Snarl sprinted toward the hovering cannon as Swoop transformed and took to the air. Sludge, quickly recovering his composure, charged after them. Grimlock called out to Swoop. "Knock cannon out of sky! Leave rest to us!"

Swoop careened through the air, weaving between blasts meant to incinerate him. His reflexes allowed him to avoid the deadly barrage, and transformed to robot mode a moment before impacting with the cannon. Shockwave transformed as well, throwing a crushing punch at the smallest of the Pit Lords. The punch didn't stop Swoop from colliding with him hard enough to knock him out of the air, but it did send the winged robot plummeting to the ground as well.

Shockwave fell to the ground behind and to the left of the charging Autobots, a situation which left Slag the closest to him. The two immediately started hammering away at each other, both seemingly evenly matched in terms of strength and durability. Normally Grimlock would have allowed the brawl to play itself out, but their medical issue and the advancing Decepticon forces didn't allow them enough time for that. Grimlock sent a punch into Shockwave's side, creating a large dent and sending the Decepticon Sub-Commander to the ground. "HE'S MINE!" Slag was infuriated by the interference.

"No time for Honor-Bout. Need to finish this now!" Grimlock lunged for the large Decepticon, but Shockwave leapt away and started flying toward his advancing forces.

Snarl stomped over, angry that he had not been involved in the fray at all. "You couldn't let me have a piece of him, could you? What I wouldn't give for a nice Guardian to tangle with right about now."

Grimlock nodded. He understood the desire for a nice, violent challenge. "Yes, but me Grimlock think our days of Guardian fighting done. Wheelie say no Quints, and that mean no Guardians."

Swoop, ignoring Snarl and staring at the retreating Shockwave, interrupted the current discussion. "Do you want me to follow him?" Swoop stood ready to transform and over-take the Decepticon.

"No, no time. Need fast-talking, blue Autobot to lead us to Autobot medic."

In a split second Blurr had covered the distance and was standing before Grimlock. "Yes,yes, followme. I'lltakeyoutoourclosestsub-terrainianbase. It'sjustunderneathIacon. Butwe'vegottago,go,go. Now,now,now. Comeon,let'smoveit!"

Blurr waved for the Pit Lords to follow him as he sprinted away, almost too fast for Grimlock to follow with his optic. Grimlock groaned once again. "Follow strange blue-bot." Blurr zipped ahead and slipped into a barely noticeable breach in the metallic ground.

*********************************************

"Wheelie!?!" Kup was amazed to see the little Autobot. "We thought that you had been killed with Chamois forty-six vorns ago. How are you?"

"Wheelie is good, but could sure use some food."

Kup gave his old friend a strange look. "Uh-huh. Wheelie, did you suffer any damage since the last time I saw you?"

The orange Minibot smiled at the old soldier. "Missile hit from the air, but Chamois repair."

First Aid, who had been trying unsuccessfully to examine Sludge, gave up on the new comer and walked over to inspect Wheelie. "I'm glad that you didn't share Chamois's fate. We found his lifeless frame outside Iacon forty vorns ago." The Autobot medic performed an initial inspection of Wheelie. "Chamois seems to have patched his frame back together alright, but it appears that he didn't know how to repair any damage to the neural pathways that the missile might have caused."

"Can you fix him?" Kup's gravelly voice gently asked.

"Maybe, but he's going to have to wait. There are Autobots with life-threatening injuries that need attention first."

Kup nodded, but a look of worry came over Wheelie's face. "Please don't dismember, Wheelie remember. Wheelie used to be scared and sad, now I'm fearless and glad. If Wheelie's wishes count for much, then First Aid just won't touch."

Kup put his hand on Wheelie's shoulder. "Listen buddy, you'll be much happier if you let us fix you up."

The impact of Grimlock's fist against the wall echoed throughout the small room. "Wheelie say no touch, so keep oily mitts off him!"

Kup straightened up and walked over to the unknown Autobot. "And just who in the inferno do you think you are?"

Grimlock lowered his head so that his uni-optic was level with Kup's optics. "Me Grimlock."

Kup's optics fluttered for a moment. He shook his head as if to clear out any dust that might be interfering with his audio processors. "What did you say?"

*********************************************

"Look Sawbones, I could really use your help with this." First Aid trotted after the elderly physician as he made the rounds of the large room being used as a makeshift infirmary.

Stopping to check on the status of one of the patients, Sawbones replied to his former pupil. "First Aid, you know more than enough to handle any medical problem that may come up. And as you can see, I'm busy."

But First Aid didn't give up. "All of these Autobots are stabile. You can spare a few hours, can't you?"

Exasperated, Sawbones stopped his examination and looked at First Aid. "Alright, what is the problem?"

First Aid smiled. "Five patients, designs very unfamiliar to me, and all describing a common condition."

"What do you mean "designs very unfamiliar'? Actually, never mind, just describe the condition."

"They are having problems with their energon ingestion systems."

Sawbones' rusted face scowled. "What do you mean?"

First Aid rubbed his cranium. "Well, they tell me that their energon ingestion systems have been tampered with, and they are unable to fuel up, and will remain unable to fuel up until this malady has been fixed."

"Is this some sort of joke!?! Even Shockwave couldn't, or wouldn't do such a thing!"

"Well sir, I watched them try and ingest some energon, and then watched as their bodies violently rejected it, forcing it out in liquid form."

"Fine, I'll take a look at them. What are their names?"

First Aid furrowed his brow. "Well, I'd like to tell you, but Kup told me that you wouldn't believe me if I did."

Sawbones gave First Aid an icy glare.

********************************************

"KUP! So help me Primus, if you've put First Aid up to this stupid joke I'm going to use my laser-scalpel to slice your rusty hide off of your rickety frame!" Sawbones stormed into the room ready to tear apart the only Autobot that he could call a contemporary.

Kup didn't respond. He simply remained sitting with the same dumbfounded stare that he had had since learning the names of the five newcomers who were on the receiving end of his stare.

Sawbones looked at Kup, and then allowed his optics to drift toward the other end of the room. He took in the appearance of the newcomers and was impressed by the lengths that Kup was going to pass off this joke. It had to be a joke. The existence of Omega Supreme was one thing, but this, this was utterly impossible. "Kup, this isn't funny." The tone of the statement was absent of the anger that had been soaked into Sawbones' voice only a moment ago.

"Look at them Sawbones." Kup's whisper tickled the old medic's audio sensors. "They're just as they were described in the old legends."

"Kup, cut it out. You get an A for detail, but I just don't have time for this joke." Sawbones was losing his skepticism with each passing glance at the five hulking frames displayed in front of him. In a tone lower than Kup's whisper he pleaded one last time. "Kup, please stop joking."

Kup looked up at his old friend and smiled. "Sawbones old friend, I swear I'm not joking."

**************************************************

Ultra Magnus looked over the five legends that stood before him. Of course he was skeptical, but both Kup and Sawbones swore up and down that these were the genuine Pit Lords of Autobot myth. Magnus had sat through Kup's telling of the ancient tale on more than one occasion, and had never once considered it more than fictional folklore. A story of an age long past, where the old gods ruled Cyberton. Where they created gladiatorial pits so that they could watch their creations destroy one another. Pits where Decepticons had the natural advantage, and where anything other than a Decepticon rarely lasted more than a few days before being slain.

The patron gods of the Decepticons reveled in the success of their creations, and mocked the patron gods of the other races of Cybertonians. That was until one of the patron gods of the Autobots could handle the mocking no more, and devoted all of the resources at his disposal to creating the most powerful warriors ever made. The god created five unstoppable killing machines, which had strength, reflexes, fighting skills and armor the likes of which had never been seen. These Autobots immediately slaughtered all opposition that the Pits had to offer them. As time went on, it seemed that no odds were too staggering for them to overcome. Their charismatic leader soon took to ridiculing not only his doomed opponents, but their patron gods as well.

Such insolence was not acceptable, so the gods dulled his sharp audio processors. But the Pit Lords, as they had come to be called, continued fighting, winning, and inspiring the Cybertronians that watched them. Legend had it that they even started fighting, and beating, the occasional Guardian that was ordered into the Pit. Their popularity grew to levels that made the old gods feel threatened, but their popularity was such that even the old gods dare not kill the Pit Lords for fear of uprising. So legend had it that the old gods sent them away, never to return.

It was a silly, ridiculous tale that couldn't hold any truth. But Ultra Magnus had too much respect for Kup and Sawbones not to at least hear them out. And whether or not these were the Pit Lords, there was no question that they had a dire medical problem. "So you're telling me that you are unable to reverse whatever is causing the problem with their energon ingestion systems?"

Sawbones shook his head worriedly. "Their internal anatomy is very unfamiliar. And the nature of the sabotage is even more unfamiliar. I wouldn't even know where to begin."

Ultra Magnus nodded his awareness of the problem, but didn't accept the ramifications of what Sawbones was saying. "I understand that there will be a great deal of difficulty in dealing with this matter, but I can not accept that these five Autobots are just going to have to sit back and endure their own starvation with an ample energon supply at their fingertips. There has to be a solution!"

"Uhh, sir?" First Aid cautiously drew their attention to himself. "I may have an idea. It's out there, and I'll tell you now that it probably won't work, but it's a possibility."

Ultra Magnus smiled and nodded at the medic. "What is your suggestion?"

"Well, I looked over some of the minutes from your status meeting with Optimus Prime from yesterday, and I noticed that our Earth-bound counterparts had acquired the beast leg of one of the Predacons."

Ultra Magnus nodded, not sure of where First Aid was going with this.

"I was thinking that maybe if Ratchet or Wheeljack could figure out how the technology worked, we could maybe retro-fit the, uhm, patients with it. That way they could obtain sustenance from organic material."

Magnus's nodding quickened. "That's not a bad idea, First Aid. But assuming we can do this, where would we obtain organic material for these Autobots to consume?"

First Aid smiled. "The Bio-Pod!"

Sawbones and Kup both slapped First Aid on the back and congratulated him in unison. "Good thinking kid!"

Ultra Magnus, however, did not share in their enthusiasm. "That IS good thinking First Aid, but unfortunately it won't work."

First Aid shook his head. "Actually, that should be the one aspect of this plan that will have no problem working. I doubt that the Bio-Pod has any security now that both the Insecticons and the Predacons are on Earth. Shockwave has no reason to think that we would be interested in the Bio-Pod. Why are you saying it won't work?"

Magnus looked down on the medic and sadly shook his head. "I received word yesterday that Shockwave ordered the Bio-Pod to be delivered to the Ocalek Chasm and tossed inside. The order was executed twelve hours ago. I guess now that he has easy access to Earth, Shockwave no longer has a need for the Bio-Pod."

The other Autobots were shocked silent, all save Grimlock. "Me Grimlock not understand. What technology you talk about? What this Bio-Pod? What Ocalek Chasm?"

Kup turned to Grimlock. "The purple Decepticon that you fought earlier is Shockwave, and until Megatron's resurfacing, he was the leader of the Decepticons. To provide him warriors that would not consume energon in a time of famine, he developed a technology that would allow Cybertronians to consume organic matter and have it digested and converted to energy that the body would require. To keep these new warriors fed he imported several thousand acres of rainforest and several thousand species from an organic world that he was aware of, surrounded it in transparent armor, and called it the Bio-Pod." Kup shook his head. "As for the Ocalek Chasm, well, roughly forty thousand vorns ago a very large meteor collided with Cybertron, tearing an enormous gash into the planet. Some claim that the newly formed chasm goes all the way down to the planet's core." Kup laughed. "So I guess our metallic world now has millions of tons of organic soil, vegetation and animal matter polluting it's very center. Add littering to the list of war crimes we'll charge Shockwave with if and when we ever win this war."

Magnus failed to see any humor in Kup's statement. "So what are we going to do now?"