Transformers Dark of the Moon

B
Y
P
ETER
D
AVID

Movie Adaptations
Transformers: Dark of the Moon
Spider-Man 3
Spider-Man 2
Spider-Man
The Incredible Hulk
Fantastic Four
Iron Man

Tigerheart: A Tale of the Anyplace

Knight Life
One Knight Only
Fall of Knight

Sir Apropos of Nothing
Book 1:
Sir Apropos of Nothing
Book 2:
The Woad to Wuin
Book 3:
Tong Lashing
Graphic Novel:
Gypsies, Vamps and Thieves
Book 4:
Pyramid Schemes
(forthcoming)

Blind Man’s Bluff (Star Trek: The New Frontier)
Year of the Black Rainbow
(with Claudio Sanchez)
Fable: The Balverine Order

Graphic Novel
The Fallen Angel

We were once a peaceful race of intelligent mechanical beings. But then came the war between the Autobots, who fought for freedom … and the Decepticons, who dreamed of tyranny …

I am Optimus Prime, and I remember my world from ages long gone and mourn for what my planet had been. I wonder whether it could ever be restored to the glory that had once permeated every inch of its glorious surface, and I am saddened to realize that the answer is very likely a resounding “no.”

Once …

Once the sky above had been a shimmering, cloudless blue
.

Once the surface had been a vast stretch of gleaming silver composed of an array of flat metal continents that were interlocked with each other in perfect geometric shapes. Between the continents were vast valleys that served both as the homes of the population of Cybertron and as a place to take refuge should anyone be foolish enough to try to attack our small but hardy world
.

We have lost the gleaming. That is our greatest loss: the loss of the gleaming
.

The once-silvery world is now burnished and dark and gray, carbon-scored with countless battles that have ranged above the surface, upon it, and below it. The sky is permanently blackened through the haze of
smoke that resulted from the constant explosions and battles that had ranged from one pole of Cybertron to the other
.

The incessant battles have been destructive to far more than just the exterior of the world. It has suffered on every level. Once Cybertron had been teeming with life, the paragon of scientific research and development in its particular corner of the galaxy. The technological advances were beyond anything that was known for any other race. Nor had its advancements been limited to science. The arts were treasured as well. The residents of Cybertron wrote poetry … mostly of the great achievements by their ancestors
.

We scream defiant howls of challenge in combat. We scream through the air, inflicting brutal punishment and damage and death upon each other. We scream in pain, and we scream in death
.

Once we were a proud civilization. Now our very world is a victim of war, wounded and dying, and the only thing we have left to be proud of is simply surviving from one day to the next. And how much pride can we take in that when we think of all that we have lost?

I tread across the battlefield. To my immediate right runs the edge of a valley that is steeped in the shadow of death. I step carefully around random pieces of deceased brethren. It seems that every day sees the fall of another brave warrior. Will there ever come an end to it? Well, yes, obviously. It will end when all of one side or the other is dead. What would happen then? Would it be possible to rebuild and perhaps restore Cybertron to its former glory? Those very words have been asked by my devoted followers. I nod in confidence, as a Prime is expected to do, and assure those who believed in me that Cybertron can and will survive
—has
to survive—and it is upon them to make certain that it does so
.

What else am I supposed to say? That Cybertron is doomed? Surely they could see that with their own eyes. But they need to believe in something greater than simply endeavoring to survive another round of assaults from their enemies. There has to be more to living than simply not dying. There has to be—and it is my job to make sure that it is provided even though I suspect it may be hopeless. This is no longer a world. It is simply a battlefield with pretensions of something more. Pretensions that will never be realized
.

A noise rips through the air above the field, jolting me from my melancholy reverie. I see an aircraft, a large one that is moving far faster than its considerable size would have made seem possible
.

I know the craft. I know what it contains and its importance to our future
.

There are six Decepticon fighters howling after it
.

Out of reflex, I whip my Energon sword into a defensive position. “No,” I say, and then louder, “No!” I wave my sword in a vain attempt to try to draw attention to myself. But the Decepticons are paying me no heed. They have their sights locked on to a far more formidable target
.

The aircraft being pursued is far larger than the Decepticons that are chasing it, but the attack vessels have the advantage of both number and speed. Apparently aware of that, the aircraft is determined to shake its hunters rather than try to fight it out. It dives into the canyon that is to my immediate right. Without hesitation, the six smaller vessels dive in after it
.

I start running, desperate to keep the larger aircraft in sight and perhaps provide aid if it is remotely possible
.

This particular valley is a maze of towers and outcroppings. The larger aircraft darts into their depths
,
threading the needle of obstructions as the smaller ships follow behind, fast and hard
.

The common wisdom would have been for the aircraft to try to gain even more speed. Instead it slows abruptly, twisting sideways to avoid blasts from the pursuing vessels while permitting a couple of them to get closer than they had expected, faster than they were prepared for. The aircraft flips its wings quickly, first in one direction and then in the other, slapping the pursuing vessels broadside and sending them crashing into the canyon walls. They erupt in balls of flame. Flying shrapnel is hurtling in all directions, cutting through yet another vessel, riddling it with holes and destroying its ability to maneuver. It flips end over end and strikes a tower, bending around it with a screech of metal
.

On flies the larger aircraft, picking up speed, diving even lower into the canyon. Two more ships go after it
.

It should have been impossible for the large aircraft to accomplish what it does next. It fires its reverse thrusters, and the ship flips over 180 degrees. It is suddenly flying backward, staring directly down its barrels at the ships pursuing it. The airship fires off a few quick shots, blasting aside the two ships, sending them colliding into each other. Then it flips back, narrowly avoiding smashing headlong into an outcropping before zipping around it and going faster than ever
.

It is everything I can do to keep up, to be able to see what is happening. Five of the six pursuers are gone, and I allow, just for a moment, hope to swell within me
.