Transformers: 

     “Begin recording.” A voice says.  The room is dark and large, the Autobot Council Chambers with the lights turned to their lowest setting.  The speaker is alone with his thoughts, and doubts.
     “At approximately 1500 hours yesterday, Terran forces under the command of Rear Admiral Thomas Morrow engaged in a pitched battle with Decepticon forces under the command of the Decepticon High Commander, Megatron.  Though the Decepticons succeeded in destroying on of the three battlecruisers, the Icarus, the situation changed when Megatron attempted to drive a wedge through the Terrans with his flagship, a rebuilt Decepticon Warworld.  The Terrans managed to cut the Warworld off from reinforcements, and in an act of desperation, Megatron triggered a Transwarp explosion after evacuating all other personnel from his vessel.  The explosion destroyed Morrow’s flagship, the Dreadnought Copernicus, and produced a shockwave that caused extreme damage to all other ships involved.  There were no survivors from the Copernicus or the Warworld.”  The speaker paused, and the sound of data pads being shuffled around was the only thing that could be heard for a long moment.
     “At 0035 hours this morning, Autobot rescue teams located Dogfight and Mirage in the energy tubes underneath Cybertropolis.  Both had suffered extreme damage, and collapsed into stasis lock.  The area showed signs of battle; carbon scoring on the walls, spent shell casings, etc.  Mirage was found at the entrance to a large chamber, and Dogfight was located farther in.  Most disturbing, next to dogfight was a large black structure, which proved to be a transwarp cell rigged to explode at approximately 1500 hours.  Neither Autobot has yet recovered sufficiently to provide us with an account of what happened, but several things can be inferred: Dogfight and Mirage surprised a group of Transformers in the energy tubes, who opened fire in response.  A battle ensued, in which at least one of the assailants was so injured as to begin leaking mechfluid.  Mirage was incapacitated, and Dogfight was injured but still functional.  Dogfight then crawled along the corridor until he reached the explosives, which he managed to deactivate before the explosive could detonate.  He was unable to return, however, due to battle damage, and collapsed in stasis lock.  The assailants are not known now, but hopefully Mirage or Dogfight will recover soon to clarify this.”  Another pause, and the sound of the speakers fingers tapping on the desk echo through the room.
     “I have spoken with Kup at last.  I wish now I had made time to speak with him earlier, but hindsight, as the Terrans say, is 20/20.  He has informed me that he personally saw the Combaticon Swindle in the vicinity of the Rubigen capitol building where the explosive is thought to have been planted.  Though he thought nothing of it at the time, recent events have led him to believe that Swindle was involved.  The Decepticon was observed acting suspicously, pacing back and forth and fidgeting in a most un-Decepticon like manner.  It now seems as though the Combaticons can be proven to have destroyed Rubigens capitol building.  This news could not have come at a worse time.”  The speaker gets up and walks around the room, looking up at the empty gallery and back down at the four empty seats.  The way he moves  betrays a terrible sadness, as though the whole world is about to be destroyed and he is the only one who knows it.
     “The similarity in timing of the attack on the Terrans and the attempted detonation of an explosive beneath the Council building, has convinced me that there is more here than meets the eye.  Goldbug and Grimlock think it signals a new round of hostilities between us and the Decepticons, and Prowl and I are at a loss to come up with a more plausible answer.  It looks as though we may be at war soon.”  This pause is the longest yet, and the computer queries if he still wants to continue.  He responds that he does, but still waits before continuing.  There is no movement from the speaker, and an observer would likely think that he has fallen asleep.  He stirs again at last, and begins to speak.
     “Computer, save as duty log.” the speaker says, and there is a chirp as the computer obeys.  “Open personal log, new file.”  Again, a slight wait for the computer to comply, and a beep as the computer signals it is ready.
     “It seems that the shadow of war has passed over us once again.  I had hoped that we had made progress lately, that we had taken strides towards a new, and better Cybertron.  That somehow, age-old grievances would be put aside, that we could perhaps avoid more conflict in the future.  I wonder if I was wrong, or simply not patient enough.  I cannot think, cannot allow myself to believe that we Transformers are good for nothing more than an eternal battle.  Though we were created to fight Unicron, his death frees us, and we can now choose our own destiny.”  A philosophical moment, and one that has come on him from seemingly nowhere.  He’s not used to this.  Visions from the Matrix, messages from aliens and battles with dark gods; he has them all under his belt, and yet, this is a new moment.  He doesn’t know quite what to make of it.
     “Perhaps time will tell, and the future will show us a new path.  But what if it doesn’t?  What if there is nothing for us but to fight and to die for all time, to destroy each other with ceaseless violence?  Could I live in a world like that, and still stay sane?  I don’t think I know anymore.”  Leaning back into the chair, he steeples his fingers, his elbows resting on the arms.  A moment of quiet introspection, as he looks deep within himself to see what he might find.  Though an ancient warrior, he longs to be more.  To create something, some beautiful symbol of unity that will endure after he is gone back to Matrix.  He wants, with all his spark, to forge a peace, so that those who come after him can choose their own paths, rather than being forced onto the path of the warrior.
     “This is a dark time for us all, it seems.  And yet, it seems that nobody wants to make a move.  The world holds its breath, as it waits to see what force shall be unleashed upon it once more.  The universe waits, and weeps for the choice it knows is coming.”  And for the last time, he pauses, thinking.
     “Computer, delete personal log.” he says, settling back into his chair.  For so long, it seems, he has occupied this seat, in one form or another.  It seems as though he can never escape the path of the leader, never be able to make a decision for himself, without wondering how it affects those under him.  Leaning back, he picks up several of the data pads lying next to him, beginning again to go through the reports from the city he calls home.

     In the center of Polyhex, where only days ago a quartet of starships were being readied, Decepticons are assembled.  Not in the hundreds or thousands, but by the millions.  They fill the available space, and spill out into the streets beyond.  Some sit on rooftops to see, or hang out of windows, while air-based Decepticons use their alternate mode to get a better glimpse.
     In the center of a large raised square, there is a single black square, made from recovered fragments of the Warworld.  A fitting burial marker, then, for the Decepticon who went up with the ship.  Next to the marker is Soundwave, and behind him stand Snaptrap, Hook and Motormaster.  The three gestalt leaders stand with their heads bowed and their weapons unholstered, as a sign of respect for their departed leader.
     “Decepticons,” Soundwave says, his voice amplified throughout the area, so that everyone can hear him, even if they cannot see him.  “We gather here today to celebrate the passing of our leader, Megatron.  May his spark haunt the Matrix!” he cried, and the crowd returned it.  A ritualized statement for the death of great warriors, everyone in this assemblage had been waiting for it.
     “We mourn not our leader, for he lived as he died; a hero of the Decepticons, seeking to drive our enemies from our borders.  That the weak Terrans would seek to come here, and challenge us in the very center of our power, shows the Megatron was right to attack them.  They are fools, weak and stupid, and cannot be trusted.”  A great cheer goes up around the city, as the assembled Decepticons voice their agreement with Soundwave.
     “Even now, the Terrans live on our planet, their armed forces waiting to attack.  While above us, two of their military craft circle the globe, kept at bay by the bravery of our own ships.  And was it not Megatron himself who turned the tide?  Megatron himself who defeated the Terran commander?”  It is an exaggeration, of course.  The Decepticons could have taken the Terrans had Megatron not charged the Warworld into the heart of the Terran formation.  In fact, the Decepticons were winning the battle before that, with one of the Terran ships destroyed.  But the Decepticon leaders chose what details to make public, and that part of the battle was not one of them.  As far as the public knew, the battle had taken a turn for the worse, and Megatron’s sacrifice had been the only thing that kept the Terrans at bay.  Though Soundwave had had to make several concessions, at last he had been able to convince the other three.
     It was a shame that they had not seen it as clearly as he had.  A story of the heroic sacrifice of Megatron, and the savage barbarism of the Terrans, would do much to inspire the rank and file troops.  In time, perhaps, the other three would learn the true art of leadership, and would bow to Soundwave’s obvious superiority.  But somehow, he doubted it.  They were fools, and he hated having to rely on them.
     From behind him now, he can hear the sound of weapon safety catches being disengaged.  And then, there is an earth shaking boom, and above him he can see four ribbons of fire pass above him, energy discharges from four powerful weapons.  There are two to each side, but it is obvious that they are fired from weapons employed in a five-cannon formation.  The one in the center is missing, a tribute to the loss of a warrior.
     A cheer goes up from the masses, as Soundwave steps off the stage, with Snaptrap, Hook and Motormaster following after him.  They pass through the space provided for them, and finally enter the building they are walking towards.  It is the building that Megatron set his quarters in, and the four of them have chosen to take that as their own version of the Autobot’s Council chamber.  Another symbol; another of Soundwaves ideas.
     They pass through the doorway, and suddenly Soundwave walks off, away from the other three.  They stand there for a moment, watching as he moves off, with a bearing that clearly states he does not want to be near them right now.  They shrug, and walk off to Megatron’s former quarters.
     “He is not to be trusted.” Snaptrap said, as they walked.  The Seacon had lately shown himself as a shrewd strategist.  In fact, he had agreed with Soundwave in secret, but thought that a favor owed would be worth more than gratitude.
     “No kidding.” Motormaster shot back.  A member of the council added after Megatron’s loss, they others knew little of him.
     “Try to keep a civil tongue, Motormaster.” Hook said.  “And do not forget your place.”
     “We will have to deal with him.”  Snaptrap said.  “Soon.”

     Soundwave touched the panel, opening the door to his quarters.  The familiar hum of the motor and the whoosh of the door are constants, something that does not change, while the world around him is in chaos.
     It is dark inside, but Soundwave does not mind.  He knows the room from memory, aware of the placement of every piece of furniture and knowing where the walls are.  With certain steps, he walks into the room, headed towards his computer.  A large comfortable chair and a data access terminal are all that Soundwave needs to do his job, and it’s pretty much all he has put into his living area.  In the other room is a recharge socket and a weapons locker, but that is all.  There is little evidence that someone inhabits this space, but then, that is hardly unusual.  The homes of Decepticon warriors are not known for their creature comforts.
     He walks over to a small cabinet, and produces a vial.  In the darkness of the room, it glows a pale blue-green, giving him an evil tint to an observer.  He reaches back in, grabbing a rubber tube and a small connection nozzle, and then closes the cabinet.  He turns away and settles into the chair, enjoying the familiar creaks as he sits down.  Attaching the nozzle to the tube, he connects the tube to the vial, which stands upright on the desk.  Last, he opens up a small compartment in his arm, and connects the nozzle to a hollow circle in his limb.  After a few seconds, the liquid energon flows down the tube and into the nozzle, producing a small sigh in Soundwave.
     It isn’t a drug, in the Terran sense of the word.  It is pure energon, and a delicacy on Cybertron.  Much like fine alcohol on Earth, it is used not to induce any sort of unnatural behavioral patterns, but to settle the user.  Once a minute has passed, Soundwave reaches out and twists the nozzle, stopping the flow into his circuitry.
     His mind clear now, he turns back to the computer, flicking the computer on.  The screen lets off a pale glow, as the  background is a subdued gray color.  He brings up the days reports, things which has not had a chance to get to today.  The usual bureaucratic things are there, officers and political commanders requesting various things, supplies, information, people.  For a moment, he wonders just how badly he would be hampered if he simply disbanded them all, but it’s a passing thought, as he knows it would only bring him more work.
     Of course, there are some things which he pays close attention to.  Reports of what is going on out in space, with the Terrans.  It seems that they have retreated to positions over the Autobot side of the planet, and are holding there.  Communications still have not proven reliable, and no-one can be sure if messages sent to Earth are being received.
     Reports about the Autobots, telling him seemingly trivial things which may prove critical.  It seems that Optimus has not left the Council chambers since the Terran confrontation yesterday, and has allowed no-one to come in.  Grimlock seems to be spending his time with the Dinobots, minus of course the deceased Slag.  Which means that no-one is really concerned with what is happening in Decepticon territory.
     Which is just what Soundwave wants.  Unhooking the energon drip from his arm, he gets up and walks over to the cabinet and puts it back in.  When he turns, a chilling sight greets him.  The door to the other room has opened, and in the darkness, Soundwave can see two glowing red eyes.  A figure shambles towards him, obviously not in the best of shape.  Soundwave’s hand goes for his gun, until he realizes who it is.
     “You!” he gasps.  The figure smiles, and continues to shamble towards him.