PROJECT EXCALIBUR: ROUND TABLE

By Matt TALON Kirkby

    "...heavy losses in all sectors. Sources indicate that..."
    "This is 521 Division...we're taking heavy losses out here. Decepticon units are advancing on our location from two different directions. Our outer perimeter has already been breached and the inner lines are buckling. We require immediate-"
    "...overflights of the ruins of Toronto have been completed. At least seventy-five per cent of the city has been completely leveled. Dozens of fires can be seen burning, all of them out of control. No sign of any survivors. It's just terrible...endless blocks of flattened rubble...."
    "...resulted in mass destruction throughout the heart of the European Alliance. Sources fear the death toll to already be well into the hundreds of thousands. Military forces are on full alert, deploying as quickly as they can respond to reports and enemy sightings, but so far their best efforts have been proving minimal at best."
    "Heavy fighting continues today between the First Sword and Decepticon units operating near Tokyo. Both sides have brutally mauled each other over the last fourteen hours, but neither side seems ready or willing to concede defeat. Although the landscape is being devastated by the fighting, civilian casualties are non-existent, a rare occurrence in this global conflict given the Decepticons’ lack of concern for civilian targets. The battle here is best classified as a stalemate, with neither side able to gain any noticeable advantage in this proxy battle for control of the Japanese islands. Despite the stalemate, or because of it, during a brief and mutually selected time-out, Tai-sa Fujiyama firmly announced his resolve to continue the fight...a statement echoed by Decepticon Commander Vindicator."
    Aboard the Dark Glory, Megatron keyed off the viewscreen and leaned back in his chair. "The Humans are so helpful to us with their openly broadcasting such useful details in their news media programs."
    Soundwave nodded. "Indeed, Mighty One." Privately though, he believed that some of that seemingly endless information must be faked or else deliberately inaccurate. Surely the Humans wouldn't openly broadcast such damaging intelligence for anyone to hear! "However," he continued aloud, "status reports from our own on-site officers are still somewhat confused. Secondary reports from ambushed units are often contradictory...or else non-existent." A disturbing number of units were failing to make their scheduled reports.
    "Yes, these new Transformers are indeed a mystery." Megatron called up a visual onto a monitor and studied it. "These 'Iron Guards' are proving to be most disruptive to our operations on the surface. Though the loss of the supply shuttle in northern Wyoming was the work of the 'Steel Shields', according to the native data." He paused, faceplates settling into a frown. "All of these groups, whether operating independently or else unified with local militaries, are seriously affecting our progress in securing this planet." He shook his head at the sudden reversal in Decepticon fortunes. "A once certain conquest is now being made far more costly for us. Oh, we are not yet defeated in this effort, Soundwave-not by a long shot-but we are sustaining losses higher than originally projected." He sighed. "Where did they come from, Soundwave? Where?"
    "The Steel Shields are almost certainly the warrior bodies constructed by Shockwave during his brief period as commander back in 1985," Soundwave replied in his usual calm fashion, "And those 'Avengers'-"
    "Are our own lost comrades," Magatron snarled as a fresh intercepted visual showed a repainted Ramjet downing Vortex in a brief aerial battle. "Plus assorted Autobots!" He clenched a fist and slammed it onto his desk, denting the metal. "Those are dead Transformers who are fighting us!"
    "These new Headmasters are an unknown factor," Skyquake announced grimly. The Predator Commander had been recalled from Earth to offer his personal views on the HeadMasters. "Where the Humans found assistance to undergo the conversions-"
    "They are the Humans!" Abruptly Megatron chuckled. "This is all part of some plot...a most desperate ploy to protect their precious planet from us. Oh yes," he nodded, a gleam lighting his optics, "this is no doubt something planned by Optimus Prime in the event that the Autobots were unable to help their allies defend Earth against us. I should have expected such a ploy. It is a strategy worthy of a Decepticon!" He nodded again, a smile twisting his mouth. "Indeed, I fully expect to see Optimus Prime himself risen from the dead-yet again!-to once more stand in the path of my rightful destiny!" Megatron slammed his fist onto the desk again. "I will not have it!"
    Skyquake took a step away from the desk.
    Soundwave gave his head an almost imperceptible shake. "An intercepted transmission indicates that the Human G.B. Blackrock is mainly responsible-"
    "Oh, there was never any doubt of that, Soundwave," Megatron agreed with another snarl, "Blackrock was always a thorn in our side. Even without Autobot help he is a challenging adversary." A foe worthy of respect...a small modicum of respect to be sure, but that 'simple’ businessman was proving to be a surprisingly dangerous Human nonetheless. "I had thought our conquest of this miserable mudball was all but assured...without the Autobots, the fleshlings are little challenge, but now these HeadMasters do certainly alter the game."
    "Yes, Mighty One," Soundwave agreed, "but we have other ploys yet to play ourselves."
    "Oh, that's very true," then Megatron grinned, red light flickering brightly through his optics, "Now we shall make our own move. Let us see how the Humans react to the gambit I am about to offer them."
    Frostwing watched the proceedings silently. She had already delivered her report and personal observations-including her own battle with a unit of Iron Guards who had attacked Razorclaw's mobile command post-and now waited for Megatron to decide on their next move.
    "In less than a day," Magatron began, looking at his aides, "our certain conquest has suffered a serious delay. These new mechanoids pose a-"
    BWEEP! BWEEP! BWEEP!
    "All personnel to battle stations," Nightracer's taut voice ordered over the intercom. "Megatron to the bridge. Repeat, all personnel to battle stations. Combat alert!"
    Megatron tapped his comlink. "This is Megatron. Report?"
    "Several dozen Disciple battleships are dropping out of hyperspace," Nightracer replied grimly. "They're heading towards Earth. Weapons range in about twelve minutes."
    Megatron and his aides immediately left the small office. As Megatron strode through the Dark Glory's corridors, he issued a string of orders over his comlink: ''Keep the cloaking shield on. Full power to the weapons, but take no hostile action until I get to the bridge."
    "Understood, Commander."
    "Keep a careful watch on them...I want to know their every movement! And...."
    As he stepped onto the Dark Glory's combat-ready bridge, Megatron immediately glanced at the ever-changing imagery on the array of displays and monitors to assess the situation. "Full report!" he snapped.
    "One hundred and fifty battleships are heading right towards Earth...ten to forty-five thousand teralengths and closing." Nightracer sounded calm as she made the report-even while she adjusting the warship's targeting systems from the tactical console. "It looks like they're forming an englobement pattern ...Earth and the Dark Glory are within the proposed sphere. No evidence of Autobot or Human reactions yet...I don't think either of them have even spotted them yet." She sounded disgusted by that failure. "Teleport crews are standing by to retrieve our units from the surface, at your command of course."
    Megatron studied one of the monitors, Skyquake at his side. The Disciple fleet had split into small groups--between five and twenty-five ships in each-and were slowly spreading out around the Earth and-unknowingly-the Dark Glory. "No need to signal a retreat yet. Oh, do alert our local unit commanders about the situation, but they can continue to secure the planet. These Disciples are an annoyance, a distraction, but not one I will run from at first sight!" He paced towards his command chair. "Is the Dark Glory combat ready?"
    "Yes,all stations report combat ready." Soundwave made that report from the corn-station which he had quickly assumed command over. "Earth-deployed units are being alerted now."
    "Then bring all weapons to bear," Megatron ordered grandly, "It's playtime!"
    "Ships now at six thousand teralengths and closing."
    Almost within optimum range. "Nightracer, stand by to fire."
    "Standing by," the gunner replied.
    "Don't miss this time," Powerdive sneered. "You still owe me a half-cycle's energon rations for the Autobots you missed back at Cybertron."
    Nightracer glared at him.
    Megatron sighed. This was hardly the time or place to air those grievances! "Drop the cloaking shields!" he ordered. "Let them see us...let these Disciples have time to contemplate the folly of trifling with us."
    "Cloak is down."
    "I am detecting increasing amounts of communications between their ships." Soundwave adjusted his console, muttering softly to himself as he did so. "They are very strongly encoded. I'm running a full series of decryption algorithms, but the Disciple codes are very complex." He could already see ideas he would have to incorporate into Decepticon communications. "This could take some time, Commander."
    "Work quickly, Soundwave."
    "Battleships are maintaining their steady approach rates. Locking on their forward weaponry."
    "Shields charged to full power."
    "Select, primary targets." Megatron waited for Nightracer to comply. There were five ships in the closest group, twelve in the next, and then two clusters of twenty-five further away,
    "Targets locked," Nightracer announced. "Entering optimum weapon range...now."
    Megatron's optics flashed redly. "Fire!"
    The first group of battleships exploded after only one swift volley of particle beams and lasers from the Dark Glory's scores of batteries.
    The second group of battleships managed to fire off a volley of their own particle fire before succumbing to the Dark Glory's weaponry and exploding brightly.
    The next two groups attacked in unison, splitting their formations apart and moving to surround the large warship.
    Megatron actually chuckled as his flagship shuddered under the combined firepower of almost fifty battleships. He did so enjoy the thrill of combat against a decently threatening foe- one reason he actually missed Optimus Prime... too many of his foes offered no real challenge. "Nightracer, continuous fire!"
    Battleships exploded under the awesome barrage of lasers, particle beams, missiles, and photon pulse bursts...but even as they died, their weaponry pounded at the Glory's dual-layered shields.
    "Shields are failing!" Skyquake warned over the hooting of various alarms. "Enemy fire is being concentrated on just a few sections...they are managing local punch-throughs. Minor hull damage is being sustained."
    "Repairs crews are responding," Soundwave reported calmly.
    "Press the attack," Megatron ordered. "Minor hull damage is a small enough price to pay." He was not afraid of them...his warship was by far superior to their entire fleet!
    "The Disciples-"
    "I have been delayed in obtaining Cybertron...I will not allow these interlopers to drive me away from Earth as well!" Megatron noted Soundwave's quick-but appraising-glance. "Oh, I am not losing my mind," he said far more calmly, "or even being needlessly reckless because of anger at this treacherous attack. No, the Disciples must be destroyed...now, or else they will use this planet's resources and become a far more dangerous threat to us."
    Skyquake nodded. "Indeed, if a foe does not truly pose any threat to you, then he is not worth fighting,"
    "Precisely," Megatron agreed.
    "So what course of action do you now suggest?"
    "We must strike, and strike back hard!" Megatron raised a clenched fist. "This threat must be eliminated as quickly as it can be."
    "That's what I like to hear," Skyquake snapped eagerly.
    "I see no other options," Soundwave added before Skyquake could order any further assaults.
    "You sound hesitate, Soundwave,"
    "Yes, Megatron, I fear that we do not know the full extent of this foe's capabilities...we could be playing directly into their hands."
    "A risk we must take, Soundwave, or else we must surrender." He grinned. "And Megatron does not surrender...he conquers!"
    "Megatron, the Disciples are pulling back."
    "What?" Megatron demanded, turning his glare onto Ransack.
    "Eighty battleships are maneuvering to the far side of the planet. The other thirty are remaining between us and their main fleet...holding station at twenty thousand teralengths."
    Megatron studied the map and tactical displays, quickly assessing the changing situation. "Soundwave, alert all units in ...what is that place? Asia? Alert our units in Asia to beware of Disciple ground troops or orbital strikes. They have full authority and permission to return enemy fire. Otherwise, they are to proceed with operations against the Humans." He frowned, faceplates twisting grimly. "This small invasion is becoming somewhat complicated," he added softly.
            *            *            *
    In his corporate headquarters in Portland, G.B. Blackrock grimly studied the latest reports. Almost everything ha read only depressed him more.
    "I've got another report of robots in-"
    "Not now, Sandra," Blackrock told his secretary. "Maybe later," The market was fluctuating wildly...sales were down, and the global economy was crumbling, "This war is proving very bad for business."
    "And you have a visitor," Sandra continued, taking no notice of her employer’s musings-she was used to them by now. "It's Mister Wit-"
    "Send him in!" Abandoning his work, Blackrock turned off his computer as his secretary walked over to the office door and opened it. "Buster!" he exclaimed happily as the younger man clanked into the room.
    "Hey, G.B."
    "Look at you," Blackrock eyed his armour-clad associate.
    "Are you sure about this?"
    "It is a little late to change my mind," Buster replied, managing to shrug slightly. "But I hadr to do this,"
    "Are you sure?" Blackrock repeated.
    "Yea, I'm keeping the armour." Buster set his helmet onto the. edge of the desk. "At least this way I can keep an eye on Kirkby, I really don't trust him,"
    "So far he's done a superb job on Excalibur-even you have to admit that." Blackrock paused. "You're being unfair to him."
    "Maybe," Buster shrugged again, "Even so, I really-"
    "Enough of this, Kirkby is in charge of Excalibur...end of discussion," Blackrock paused, then took time to pour them both a drink from his wall-stocked bar. He ignored the mental voice questioning just how much he had been drinking lately. "How are you doing?" he asked.
    "I survived a few battles." Buster sipped at his whiskey, suppressing a sudden shudder, "It feels kind of strange flying Powerglide like this, I'm in total control, him obeying my every thought, and yet every now and then…I almost think I can hear his voice offering me advice."
    "Impossible," Blackrock replied flatly as he poured himself a second drink. "Every bodyshell our teams recovered was fully mindwiped…the job done long before I could countermand Edwards' orders. They're all complete blanks,"
    "That doesn't make me feel any better."
    "I know." Blackrock allowed the resulting silence to last only a few moments. "Despite your opinions about Kirkby, I've heard only good things about him from the staff at Camelot." He used the codename for the HeadMaster research and development facility even though Buster knew its real name. Security was so vital to Earth's future, Blackrock glanced down at his desk, "I have some of the status reports from Kirkby right here," He held up a file, then dropped it back onto the desk. "His teams have recovered nine Decepticons and thirty Autobots from the remains of Autobot City...and about half of them are now fully functional HeadMasters."
    Buster frowned, "My initial report said ten Deceptions had been recovered."
    "Oh?" Blackrock checked the report, "Ah, here it is: one bodyshell was unsalvageable…I think it was that MicroMaster, Whisper. Several Autobots located back at the City were also beyond repair." He swallowed, his face paling. "Like Optimus."
    Buster nodded, equally grim. "I would've applied for control of his body if it had bean...available." Tears filled his eyes. "Same for Maximus." His voice firmed as he changed the subject, pausing a moment to wipe at his eyes. "It's a real challenge to integrate the various units-the Avengers, Iron Guards, and Steel Shields all have individual strengths and weaknesses-but we're trying hard. The regular military is also adapting to joint operations with varying success. A lot of soldiers simply shoot at anything even remotely resembling a Transformer."
    Blackrock nodded. "Understandable. It's not acceptable, of course, but it's certainly understandable."
    "I think General Edwards falls under that category too." Buster finished his drink and silently refilled it.
    "Anything reportable?" Blackrock didn't particularly like the General, but he was an effective military officer.
    "No, nothing overt. It's just...I guess it's his attitude towards mechs…"
    "He is the ranking officer among one of the most powerful militaries on the planet, and they've been pretty ineffective against the Decepticons. I really had to fight to convince him to allow us to use HeadMasters at all,"
    Buster sighed and finished his second drink.
    Blackrock paused, wondering how to frame his next question. After filling his glass for the third time since Buster had arrived, he finally plunged in. "And how is Jessica taking your ...transformation."
    Buster winced at Blackrock'a choice of words. "She understands...mostly. The kids as well. They're used to their Uncle Spike..." his voice trailed off as the memory of his brother's last vld-call from Autobot City filled his eyes. "Anyway," he continued after a moment, "I brought you something you probably wouldn't get to see otherwise." Ha handed Blackrock a datachip. "It's a combat record from Powerglide's memory."
    Blackrock silently slid the chip into his computer.
    "Taken live from near Chicago," Buster's tone was like ice. "We encountered a Decepticon patrol strafing the railway yards and decided to join in. As you can see, they didn't stand a chance against the two of us..."