NOTE ON TIME SETTING: Takes place before the crash of the Ark, when Autobots and Decepticons were still warring on Cybertron, and before the Combaticons were arrested as criminals.
CREDITS: Ritterkreuz, Solarius and Sunsabre are mine. All other characters, as well as the Transformers concept, belong to Hasbro.
Darkness Visible.
Milton had never imagined a spacecraft like this one when he had written his epic, Paradise Lost--but the poetıs most memorable phrase was the only possible way to describe it. It was black, blacker even than the void of space. It blended into the interstellar darkness, and its passage could only be glimpsed by the way that it blotted out the distant stars. Its charcoal skin seemed to suck in all the surrounding light and swallow it into nothingness. For a brief second, it passed in front of a brilliant moon, and if anyone had been there to view it, they might have seen the outline of a triangular vehicle bearing some resemblance to a stealth fighter. Then, as if it realized its visibility, it activated its most powerful cloaking and completely vanished from sight.
Had anyone noticed its passing, they might have remarked that the dark ship was travelling towards the Decepticon-held city of Polyhex.
And had that being been an Autobot, he surely would have trembled at the triangular purple logos on its wings.
***
Polyhex had some of the most advanced early-warning systems on Cybertron. Radars, laser nets, particle tracers, regular patrols. The Autobots had long ago given up trying to penetrate the Polyhex defense net. The stealth fighter passed through the defenses as if they did not even exist.
Only one of the defenders noticed anything amiss. She was not even a defence systems operator, but rather a scientist experimenting with a new scanning system. The system was designed to measure the particle flux of black holes, but it picked up a tachyon trace passing into Polyhex. "Odd," the scientist muttered. "That shouldn't be there..."
"What is it?" her assistant asked.
"A moving line of tachyon particles. Looks like some kind of space anomality. Get the sensors to check it out."
A few moments, later, the assistant reported, "Sensors aren't picking up anything."
"Hmph. I would have sworn those particles formed the outline of some sort of aircraft."
"See for yourself. There's nothing there."
Nothing there. Nothing but an unusually dense cloud of scattered particles, and, every once in a while, the faint shadow of a ship on the walls below. A wraith of a star cruiser, heading for Decepticon High Command.
***
Evening was falling on Polyhex when Thundercracker noticed the message on the computer screen with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. Heıd been told that if he helped Shockwave get the administrative paperwork done, he could join in that nightıs raiding party. The blue jet grumbled. Just when he thought heıd gotten all the work done in plenty of time, here was something else to attend to. One piece of bureaucratic garbage to take care of before he could get on with what really mattered in life--the freedom of the open skies and the pleasures of blowing any passing Autobots into little pieces of scrap.
The message itself was short and to the point.
GREETINGS GENERAL MEGATRON. AN AUDIENCE IS REQUESTED AT 13452 IN ONE SOLAR CYCLE. THE HUNTER.
"Doesn't give me a lot to go on," Thundercracker muttered as he cross-referenced with Megatron's planned schedule for the next day. A meeting at 13452 was definitely not on it. Thundercracker was about to send an electronic message back to the sender--the standard notice of rejection--when he realized that the message contained no return address. Frowning, Thundercracker opened the other programs on the computer, but none of them were any more enlightening about the origin of the strange message.
The Hunter. Who in the Pit could that be?
Puzzled, the blue Seeker called Shockwave over to take a look. Shockwave tried the same things that Thundercracker had already done, with no better success.
"It's like it just appeared there," Thundercracker complained.
"Megatron will not be pleased," Shockwave replied. "If this information is accurate than the unscheduled meeting will conflict with the gladatorial games tomorrow.²
"Great,² the blue jet muttered. ~Just what I need to put Megatron in a bad mood.~ ³Letıs get Soundwave to look at it. If anybody can figure out where this came from or who sent it, he can."
***
"Megatron?" The toneless voice of Soundwave came through Megatron's partially open door.
Megatron stood up from the computerized map display he'd been studying and shot an irritated glance over his shoulder. "What is it?"
Soundwave entered, carrying a transcripted copy of the mysterious letter. "We received this message on our computer screen."
Megatron took it and examined it briefly, then tossed it away. "So tell him I'm busy!"
"Message has no known point of origin."
The Decepticon leader blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"The most logical presumption is that the message was typed directly onto our computer screen."
"You're saying that whoever left this message was inside our base?"
"I have taken that into consideration. Systems check reports no breach of security."
"Well, obviously this thing didn't just appear out of nowhere!"
"Message origin remains unknown."
Megatron grumbled under his breath. No one commanded the supreme general of the Decepticon forces! He strode across the room, picked up the message, uncrumpled it and read it again more carefully. It left little room for argument. This Hunter quite obviously intended to arrive the next day and speak with Megatron, and he had given the Decepticons no chance to disagree. Megatron resented being manipulated in such a manner.
"If it's an audience he wants, it will be an audience he gets," the leader said with the hint of a cruel smile playing around the corners of his mouth. He would sorely miss the next day's games, but perhaps this stranger might prove equally amusing...
***
The next day, Megatron looked down on the preparations from the window of the tower. Below, the Decepticon forces were on a heightened alert, manning every weapon, watching from every post, patrolling every corridor. Two lines of soldiers stood at attention along the length of the courtyard. If this Hunter arrived at the front gates, he would be treated to an intimidating show of force. If he attempted to sneak in, well, he would have a most unpleasant surprise. Pleased with the outcome, Megatron settled into a chair and prepared to watch the drama unfold.
13452. ~Where is he? The damned upstart had best not be late...~
"Greetings General Megatron." The same line from the letter, now spoken in a deep and oddly echoing tone from within the command room itself.
Megatron jumped to his feet with a start. It was not like the Decepticon leader to be caught off guard--complete relaxation was foolhardy in a military where promotion was often obtained by assassinating one's superior. Looking back over his shoulder, Megatron was startled to find the room empty.
Empty--but the silver Decepticon could sense some sort of presence. "Who's there?" he demanded sharply, his voice betraying a bit of irritation that masked his discomfort about being taken unaware.
"I am."
"Show yourself!"
The voice was slow and deliberate. "Phase shift."
It was as if the shadows thickened and solidified, congealing into the shape of a tall, dark Decepticon. His paint was mostly black and darkest grey, slightly shiny, seeming to absorb the surrounding light and allow only a trace to escape and form a gleaming trickle of brightness on his metal skin. The Decepticon logo was prominently displayed on a flat, triangular cockpit that covered his chest in a V. From the point of the V protruded a small bronze-coloured tapering cylinder. Great black wings rose behind him like those of some avenging angel of legend, and smaller airfoils--the tail section of his aircraft mode--protruded from behind his waist. His lower arms and lower legs were encased in silver trim, stylized to resemble armour. A rounded helmet with a protruding lip at the base and a single spike at the crown decorated his head. He regarded Megatron from glowing eyes that shone an eerie shade of pale violet, strikingly different from the standard Decepticon red.
"How dare you invade my base uninvited," Megatron growled, trying not to let the stranger realize that he was impressed. How did this warrior make it past Polyhex's security?
"I do not have time to be wasted dealing with your subordinates. I come to offer you a treaty and I want my answer from the source."
No groveling. No begging. No trace of fear. Civil but firm, alert but secure in himself, the black Decepticon addressed Megatron as an equal rather than a leader.
Intrigued, Megatron tilted his head. "Well then. What is this treaty of yours?" He eyed the newcomer closely. Aside from a long glittering blade at his left hip, the stranger did not appear to carry any armament whatsoever.
The dark Decepticon paced across the room to gaze out the window. ³There is an enemy,² he began, ³a threat to all of Cybertron. They call themselves the Quintessons and they would like nothing better than to decimate our numbers and enslave the survivors. I hunt them. I have hunted them for...² (significant pause, Megatron noted) ³...a very long, long time. But there is only so much one soldier can do against an armada.² His head swung back to Megatron. ³For millennia the Quintessons have been scattered and weak, though hardly easy prey. Now, however, they have began to regroup at last, and even I am no match for their united might. I require assistance in my war.²
³And you seek my aid?² Megatron asked.
The dark Decepticon nodded slowly. ³The symbol that you wear designates you as Cybertronian military hardware. You and your kind...our kind, might I add...are surely more capable of such an assault than the consumer goods...²
³The Autobots,² Megatron snarled.
The Hunter seemed taken aback by Megatronıs vehemence, but he nodded. ³Yes. The Autobots.²
At that moment, the door opened and Rumble came running in. ³Boss! BOSS! We...² The little Decepticonıs voice broke off when he saw the black soldier, with his great wings and eerie optics, looming in the shadows beside Megatron. ³Whoa!²
The dark jet turned to Megatron with a questioning and somewhat disapproving look.
³Leave us, Rumble,² Megatron ordered.
³Boss, this is really important. Soundwave just picked up a conversation between Air Commander Solarius on our moon base and Battle Unit Three in Tarn. Solarius is planning to make a move!²
Megatron snorted. ³You mean Solarius actually intends to challenge me as leader of the Decepticons?² Inside, his mind raced--he had suspected Solarius for some time now, but this information had come much sooner than heıd expected.
³Sure looks that way. General Sunsabre of Tarn has thrown her support behind Solarius.²
~Magnificent. First our stealth friend shows up unannounced, and now Iıve got a full-scale mutiny on my hands,~ Megatron thought. ~This is not my day, not in...~ He glanced towards the dark jet and then his optics narrowed as he wondered whether the stranger was an ally of Solarius.
³You have rebellions often?² the black warrior asked.
³That depends on the intelligence of my subordinates,² Megatron retorted tersely, ³and whether or not they have a death wish!²
³Infighting,² the newcomer hissed, and while an expression of anger flickered on his face, Megatron sensed no outright hostility. The strangerıs anger was an internal rage, detached from the situation at hand. Megatron realized, too, that if the stealth fighter had been sent by Solarius as an assassin, he would not have shown himself so openly.
³Rumble, fetch Soundwave,² Megatron ordered, and the small blue robot ran from the room. The silver leader turned back to his unexpected guest. ³I am afraid I will have to excuse myself to deal with this unpleasant business. You are welcome in my base, but I must request that since our security is threatened, that you refrain from using your cloaking gear while you are here.²
³Understood,² the dark soldier agreed.
³Soundwave will show you to our quarters, my dear...what exactly is your name?²
³I have no name.² He noticed the look of displeasure on Megatronıs features and thought hard. ³The Quintessons originally referred to me by a word which translates as The Hunter. Now, though, they have a different name for me.² The next word he spoke was a series of syllables, clicks and grunts which degenerated into a sort of slurp.
³What was that supposed to mean?² Megatron demanded.
³It is the old Quintesson language. There is no direct equivalent in your language. Perhaps the closest thing would be a phrase: ³Mighty Death That Strikes Without Warning From The Infinite Darkness Of Space.²
Megatron half-chuckled, raising a scornful eyebrow at the stranger and letting a trace of amusement enter his voice. ³Your name is ³Mighty Death?²²
³I told you, I have no name. But yes, the travellers of the spaceways tell legends of the Mighty Death.² There was a pause, in which Megatron tried to decide what to make of the dark soldier who was casting his eyes around the room. ³If you have not noticed, I am not one to make treaties often and perhaps for this occasion, I should choose a more congenial name. Very well. In your language, the closest approximation of my Quintesson name would sound something like...² He thought, formulating, and spoke the word. ³Ritterkreuz.²
³So be it, my dear Ritterkreuz. I shall see you when this business is concluded.²
***
The emergency meeting was not finished until late in the night. Megatron had declared, quite forcefully, that this time Solarius had gone too far. He had asked Soundwave to contact some Decepticons he knew to be loyal in Solariusı moon base headquarters, only to find that the Air Commander had purged his troops and destroyed all those who would not support his rebellion. Faced with the prospect of invading the largest of Cybertronıs moons, Megatron found himself in an unenviable position. Leading an assault on the moon base would withdraw troops from the front near Polyhex, leaving it vulnerable to attack from both Autobots and General Sunsabreıs forces from Tarn. A battle between Megatron and Solarius would greatly weaken the Decepticons and give the Autobots a decided advantage. Unfortunately, allowing Solarius the opportunity to fortify the moon base and plot against Megatron from there was too great a risk. The traitor had to be eliminated, and quickly, before he coaxed even more robots to join his side.
During the meeting, the Decepticon tactical team was busily thinking up various possible actions on behalf of Megatronıs Decepticons, predicting Solariusı response to each of them, and calculating the best course of action. Megatron had just declared Starscream to be in charge of the tactical team when Ravage stalked into the room on silent paws.
³Ravage brings information on Ritterkreuz,² Soundwave announced. ³Laserbeak is currently observing our guest.² The indigo Transformer turned into a cassette deck; Ravage transformed into cassette mode and played images of Ritterkreuz in his private quarters. The strangerıs actions were typical--he had given the room a cursory investigation, refuelled, and then settled himself down in rest mode. Megatron noticed, however, that the dark soldier was not resting easily. Every cycle or so he would wake up and pace the room impatiently, his movements edgy, his optics darting as if something chewed away at him from inside. It was obvious that the dark hunter felt claustrophobic in the room, though he had been granted very large quarters. ~And,~ Megatron realized, ~he likely also feels exposed.~ For, true to his word, Ritterkreuz had not attempted to stealth cloak.
"I say we shoot him from behind and take his technology," Starscream muttered. "Do you have any idea how powerful we could be if every Decepticon had his ability to stealthcloak in plain sight? Air Commander Solarius wouldnıt stand a chance."
"Negative," Soundwave spoke up as he transformed back to robot mode.
Megatron turned on his heel. Soundwave rarely commented on anything, but when he did, Megatron listened. In fact, Megatron had been considering a line of thought much like Starscreamıs. The Decepticon leader was greatly intrigued by Ritterkreuz's unusual power and could see the practical applications of such abilities. Megatron, however, was less impulsive than Starscream and believed that he could learn more from a functioning Ritterkreuz than from a pile of blasted parts.
"You have an opinion, Soundwave?" the Decepticon leader asked.
Soundwave was silent.
"Come on, out with it!"
A pause, then, "It is highly recommended that Ritterkreuz be treated with the utmost caution."
"You think he's a traitor? An Autobot spy, perhaps? Or one of Solariusı lackeys?"
"Not a spy. He is a Decepticon...and a highly dangerous one. He is not to be trifled with."
"I am Decepticon COMMANDER! I fear NO ONE!"
Another pause, and then Soundwave said quietly, "Perhaps you should."
"Yes," Starscream added mockingly, gesturing towards the images of Solarius on the computers, "perhaps you should..."
"If I do," Megatron retorted, "it will be someone more formidable than Air Commander Solarius. Now get out with the tactical team and come up with some battle plans! The rest of you, save Soundwave, are dismissed.² As soon as the others were gone, Megatron turned to Soundwave and demanded, ³Youıre not acting yourself, Soundwave. What is this all about?"
"I was curious about Ritterkreuz and attempted a cursory neural scan..."
"You tried to read his mind," Megatron summarized. The indigo Decepticon nodded. "Well, what did you find?"
"My processors cannot comprehend the data."
"Then spit it out and let's see if MINE can!"
"The core processor is of recent manufacture. The data stored within is much older. Some of it dates back to the First Great War..."
"The First..." Megatron sucked air into his intakes. So much ancient knowledge! He was instantly intrigued and wanted to know more. Knowledge could mean power and...but that didn't explain Soundwave's fearful attitude. "So he's downloaded it from an older source. So he has access to the records of history. So what?"
"Mighty Megatron, we face a mind much older than the body which contains it. A mind created for one purpose--to hunt and to destroy."
"You're..." Megatron grinned at Soundwave. "You're afraid of him, aren't you!"
"He sensed my presence." A pause. "He could return it."
"He's a telepath?"
"No...a..." Soundwave struggled for the words in his ordered, scientific mind. "A rogue spark. His mind is detached, alien...his thought patterns are not like ours. I cannot comprehend what he is."
Megatron frowned. "Perhaps we should make a point of finding out."
***
On to Part 2
