AUTHOR COMMENTS:
This is the second of seven instalments in the Andraxus series, a history detailing the far future of the Transformers well after the Autobot/Decepticon war.

* * *

The following archive is a testament to my liege, Thunderwing. Though he is gone I wish to preserve the memory of the warrior and leader he once was before ASWP's propaganda machine distorts yet another history into electoral material.

Before inheriting the mantle of the Lord of the Belt Mining Strip, I was Thunderwing's First Lieutenant. I accompanied him on his missions and served as his general secretary. My data-core was primed by him in 30 232 AF and I won my name and colours in 30 909 AF at riots in the Far Worlds where I distinguished myself in ritual combat. After a number of commands I earned Thunderwing's trust and I learned much of his history over the years, from fragments of conversation and documents available to me.

Thunderwing's military history appears to have began in later years of the Great War. He had a position of high rank in the Decepticon army. Whether he served directly under the Lord Commander or not is uncertain. Those who participated in the Great War seem reluctant to discuss it since the Foundation, but I have managed to ascertain that Thunderwing once led Cybertron-based forces at one stage that was not under the direct leadership of the Lord Commander.

I shall now relate a visit Thunderwing made to Andraxus during the Trade Summit of 43 322 AF.

We left the port based in Alpha Quadrant of the Strip, Foundation Mines United, and proceeded to the orbit of Andraxus in Thunderwing's personal flagship. As the 3454-JKL descended through Andraxus' weak atmosphere, I ordered the flagship to place a visual onscreen. Andraxus is a small planet. While civilisation in the Strip is spread across a number of bases and stations in the Belt depending on the richness of the ores, Andraxus is centred in the one city that covers most of its planet's surface area. In the Foundation quarter is the old Cybertronian-style architecture, overlayed by more standard buildings that boast a more capable defence. The city exists well into the crust. Buildings have been erected along what were the original mining tunnels. Heat sinks tap geothermal energy from the molten core. Much of the North Side is tectonically unstable, and it is the province of the lower-ranked Executives and the semi-legal gaming pits. The bureaucratic heart exists in the South.

I could see the red rock deserts, punctuated by natural gashes, craters and hills. The Lord Commander's Rise is a natural structure, a mountain formed from volcanic activity that cuts the upper reaches of the atmosphere.

I have always thought the name "Andraxus" rather ambiguous. It mainly refers to the city but it also means the planet and is used as a collective term for the Empire. I dislike redundant names but I am sure that the particular identification scheme arose with valid reason.

The Defence Executive, Air Force attache, escorted us in into South Port: lines of well-disciplined troops a gleaming gun-metal in the red sky. They were the standard Interceptor model, a craft known for excellence under harsh-atmospheric conditions. In the Strip, our Legions are an earlier model but just as effective as I flatter myself that we have the superior military culture. I find Andraxus too mired in the public service, too self-obsessed, to sustain the environment needed to create a culture of obedient killers. Public servants are open to bribes and corruption. They have too much free reign and little discipline.

As the splendid display flanked our flagship we gently lowered into the South Port docks. Thunderwing and the rest of our entourage disembarked and walked into the underground bunker. A full formal reception awaited us : lines of well-drilled troops executing the Fourth March, only performed in the presence of a High Lord. We waited, in full salute as the Lord Commander emerged from the far end of the massive cargo area and strolled between his parted lines of troops. He came to a halt in front of Thunderwing and there they regarded each other.

"Thunderwing, welcome," the Lord Commander said gravely.

"Starscream," my liege acknowledged.

Perhaps even then I could sense the long rivalry between them, a brotherly enmity, one deadlocked against another. The tension was palatable on the air. Or perhaps it is yet another ambiguous recollection, and at that stage Thunderwing was eager to establish new trading terms, and the two were meeting under friendly circumstances, with no hint of the discord yet to come present in the atmosphere.

In silence I studied the Lord Commander of Andraxus.

His general architecture seemed to be of an old design with upturned wings swept back parallel to his body, supporting shoulder-spars rising above his head. His entire transformation would be rather slow, I reasoned, as the wings would have to flip forward as his centre section rotated around the massive body frame and the nosecone would have to slot out its back rest lock on to the centre section; the entire structure being supported by the encumbering shoulder-spars. It would take nearly seven to fifteen seconds, allowing for the internals to re-align and the weaponry to phase in place. In his bipedal mode, the Lord Commander moved efficiently, with heavy supporting weaponry locked into his shoulder connections. A strange design, I thought. I wondered what circumstances it would be suitable for.

Thunderwing said to me, "Keep order."

"Yes, my lord."

Thunderwing flared with a blur of light. His body was distorted by the blaze. I could not focus on him. And then he snapped out of his reality. His ANDRAX had manipulated subspace so he could teleport to his desired location. I knew that would have he preferred to walk or better yet, fly in his second mode but this occasion was important to the troops. They needed to see what set him apart from the common citizen.

The Lord Commander nodded and beckoned a small Skyhawk over, coloured in dark green and lime. They were unusually garish colours for a trooper. I judged that he would be of high standing.

"Raindance, you give Thunderwing's second a look around the place. We'll be a while." The Lord Commander then appeared to be swallowed flickering corona of black flames. Then he was gone, to the place of the Trade Summit.

The troops began to disperse with ragged order. I thought that this marred their previous display. I ordered Thunderwing's entourage back to the flagship and as I was about to seal our enclave Raindance said: "C'mon. Time for that later."

I had been ignoring his presence, as I was unsure of his rank and therefore the correct decorum. Thunderwing would expect me to stay in our designated area. Yet the Lord Commander had contradicted him. I was unsure of my next course of action. I reasoned that if I departed with this Raindance I could return quickly. I would satisfy the Lord Commander's "courtesy" towards me. I could think of no other words for it. It was unusual to be singled out as such and I wondered at the Lord Commander's purpose. I was unfamiliar with the rules of decorum on Andraxus but perhaps it was natural for "seconds" to be entitled to a "look around" Andraxus.

I told him, "I cannot go with you for very long. I will accompany you long enough to satisfy the whims of the Lord Commander and then I must return to my post."

"Sure. Anything," Raindance said. "Yeah, I'll just show you round the plaza. Haven't you been to Andraxus before ? Hnn. I've never been to the Strip. I mean it's just asteroids and rocks. Nothing to me. I mean, don't take that personally or anything ?"

"All the regions in the Andraxus System have their function,"I said. I was confused by Raindance's manner.

"Yah. Well, I'll show you something of what we do here then. Right, after we leave this cargo area ... it just goes on forever, doesn't it ? ... there's this flight path up through that particular section ... You can fly ? ..."he trailed off dubiously.

"Yes." I said curtly.

"Good. Hehe. I'm a bit of an air jock myself. Let's go."

Raindance shifted abruptly into a small, compact jet with trailed-back wings. He managed to lift off and angled for a port in the ceiling, which slid back, revealing a stripe of red sky. I followed suit and leapt into the air, trailing him easily. My secondary mode was larger, more pointed with massive rear-mounted engines and swivel-mounted launchers. I had a larger wingspan and was a design more suited for long distance flight than short hops. I cleared the entrance and we broke into the air above Andraxus. As we circled the city Raindance maintained a constant stream of random chatter, referring to building projects and sites of historical relevance. I found this interesting but I was anxious to return to my post.
I bid farewell to Raindance and returned to seal off the enclave, awaiting Thunderwing's return.

He returned in somewhat dour spirits. He would not divulge the events of the meeting and paced about our enclave rather moodily.

"Shall I order the flagship clearance, my lord ?"I asked him, hoping to distract him.

"No." Thunderwing ordered. His optics flared briefly. "There is another reason we came to Andraxus." Thunderwing commented abruptly.

"My lord ?"

"Follow me, Ashraker."

We left our designated area and marched for a great distance, leaving the South Port area and the great underground cargo bunker, until we rose above the under-dark through interlinked tunnels and we stood in the chrome streets dusted by the red sands blowing in from the desert area.

We walked along the 232 Intersection. I followed Thunderwing as we entered the Hub, the central district of government enterprise, as walked past civilian bureaucrats and scientists, along ordered streets plated with dull grey metal. The air was redolent of the red dust that covers the outside plains and the desert and the sky was a pale red as the sun rose above it and the solar-collectors mounted on roof-tops swivelled to follow it. As we are an aerial race, most of our architecture consists of tall buildings and thoroughfares interconnecting far above the ground. Around the Spires, where I surmised where we were heading, is the oldest architecture, a poorly-defended network of tall, delicate buildings surrounded by open plazas and small towers that greatly tax the principles of engineering. The air above us crawled with traffic in their designated flight paths, the occasional Enforcer-class design to be seen. I disliked seeing the Homeworld from the ground when I had one of the more advanced interceptor designs in my secondary mode. Indeed, as from my tour with Raindance, I concluded that Andraxus, the city, was meant to be seen from the air.

We passed the citizens, the ones who could change a government with their fickle votes. But their's is an illusion of power as the Senate is dominated by the High Council. I remembered a comment I had heard from an ASWP higher-up, that as long as the illusion is maintained then it is preferable to the more stark reality.

I was thinking that as we came to the Spires.

The government headquarters, offices, Well-hardware, meeting rooms, access points and offices of all the Executives resided here. It was a large building that from the air appeared to consist of seven towers surrounding a single point from which arose a larger tower that at one stage was the highest artificial point of all Andraxus. Its designed seemed frivolous and to invite attack, but my mind was conditioned by the Strip. I believe that the ceremony was the important consideration behind its design. We walked directly up the front stairs, heading towards the massive chamber on the ground floor that at least every citizen knew about.

The Hall of Remembrance, where the Matrix resided.

It is an octagonal enclosure with a large plinth in the centre. Statues of various heroes from the past reside at each point of the high-vaulted room. There is no light to see by. One must adjust one's vision to focus. My attention wandered around the walls, focusing on the centre plinth - a plain stand, on which rested an object, a perfect cube fashioned from a matt-black, non-reflecting material. Even as I adjusted my shoulder-mounted lamp, the cube seemed to suck the very light from the air.

Thunderwing stood next the statue of a foreboding, five-horned figure. "Devourer", I read, not knowing who it was or what he had done to distinguish himself.

"Take it, Ashraker." Thunderwing said. I could not read his expression.

"My Lord ?"I was shocked. My liege was asking me to throw away my existence on a whim he had.

"It seems a simple enough task, Ashraker. Simple enough not to require a detailed explanation. If you would like me to repeat myself I ask you to walk up to the stand and pick up the Matrix. I hope that you recognise it, surely ?"

I stared at the small, light-absorbing cube. It seemed insignificant, unable to support the legacy surrounding it.

To touch it meant death.

"You know the penalties for disobeying a direct order, Ashraker." Thunderwing said. "Take it, knowing that you are obeying me, or turn away and disobey me. You will live, then," he added, snidely.

I could not disobey him. Although the capacity for "betrayal" existed within me, I could not abandon my function. All my life I had obeyed him. I could not stop now, not when my own life by itself was insignificant to his.

Slowly I walked to the plinth. I was resolute. I reached out, hesitating, watching the walls that were lit by the green of Thunderwing's optical lights. Dead heroes, fallen past remembrance, immortalised in vulgar war-sims of our culture. I would be with them soon.

I touched the side of the cube. My fingers slipped along the slick surface. Nothing happened.

I managed to get a grasp upon it. All the while it seemed as though as I were holding a block of ice. It felt intangible, ready to fall through my fingers.

"My Lord ?"I said triumphantly.

"Put it down."

Gladly, I put the block back onto its resting place. I was aware that Thunderwing was laughing.

"So very loyal ... did your risk your existence for me or for your insufferable pride ? Or perhaps my Lieutenant Commander is unspeakably stupid and would not question my orders for him to fly in the molten heart of the sun."

I did not know how to react. I had obeyed him to the letter. I stood there, staring at him questionably. Thunderwing seemed to recover his composure. "Leave," he ordered. Bewildered, I turned to the entrance which led out into the heart of Andraxus, when a whipcrack of plasma fire smashed into my back. I stumbled around and then froze. The discharge had come from Thunderwing's smoking rifle. The weapon slipped out of reality and he was facing me empty-handed.

I was wounded, betrayed by the one whom I had sworn to serve. If he had wanted my death I would have given it gladly, had he but asked. Then I registered that I had taken no damage from the plasma strike. I could see the shot's white-hot wake in the air. However my external temperature was normal for the atmosphere. Obviously the plasma had not reached me ... but where had it gone ?

"I can tell." Thunderwing started to chuckle. "I have always been able to tell. Indeed it seems that the long hours I have spent training such a stiff-backed, fawning dolt have been paid back at last."

"My lord ?"

"Look at yourself, fool. Do you doubt the evidence of your own sensors ?"

I studied myself but I could not ascertain what Thunderwing was continuing on about. All of my read-outs were average for the climatic conditions that I was in.

"I am functional, my lord."

"Indeed. Twice over you should be dead and yet you live. Why then ?"

I began to see his point. "The Matrix, my lord ?"

"Precisely. You are now equipped with an ANDRAX. You are now, at least technically, equal to anyone on the High Council. But your allegiance is to me and it should please me that you continue in you capacity of my Lieutenant Commander."

"It would please me greatly, my lord." I said carefully.

At that stage my rationale was that I had been vindicated. Thunderwing had tested me and I had passed those tests. I was worthy of remaining in his command. I did not know what an ANDRAX was then, though at present I have a vague idea. All I knew is what any soldier knew. That I would be invulnerable, invincible. I would have no need for refuelling or for repair. I had not registered any display of my ANDRAX. There had been no visual display that accompanied the way it disposed of the plasma strike. I was accustomed the flamboyant ring of light that glimmered around Thunderwing when his ANDRAX was engaged in any sort of process. My ANDRAX would remain unobtrusive yet detectable, visible as a faint smear of colour before fading.

Thunderwing gave every evidence of being satisfied. I knew his moods well. When he had finished a demonstration he would be in the mood to relate a long siloquet and pace, occasionally looking up and shaking his head reflectively. He needed no audience to perform but I was the next best thing. I was quiet and civil, a supportive listener.

"I suppose that you are now my equal, in the tenants of the High Council. Yet you know your place, unlike other fools who, because they have the gift of an ANDRAX, feel that they are capable of actively governing an Empire. I have been with Andraxus since the Foundation. What do you know of those early days, Ashraker ?"

"Very little, my lord."

I knew that Thunderwing was present at the close of the Great War when Starscream ascended to the Matrix and become the Lord Commander. He was present as he and the others chose to leave Cybertron, to found the city of Andraxus.

It took eons. To dig with hands that once had held guns. To build with hands that had once only crushed. That is when the pit combats first started. Morale was low at that point. The former troops were violent and though they took well to the discipline they had only empty speeches to contend with, promises made of glass that seemed hollow.

Justice was served by self-appointed enforcers. They had no time to listen to arguments or defences as the construction of the city had become as obsession. Build it, and all their boredom, frustrations at the close of the Great War would soon cease. Offenders were thrown into construction holes surrounded by workers and the combatants were kicked down if they tried to escape. They had to battle one another, stripped of all weapons. The victor, and therefore the innocent, was the one left standing.

I cannot imagine those dark, anarchic days. The contrast with the present order must be immense. They were told to build and they had no choice.

"You must understand, Ashraker, that it was the end of all things. It was the end of the war. For so many years we had a single goal and then when it was in our grasp we were scattered. It was the apocalypse, the last chapter. We were judged, if that is the world, and we were redeemed."

Thunderwing continued to stare at the darkness.

"Starscream ... it is hard to explain the concept. When he held the Matrix aloft, he became more than just another commander, another leader in an endless chain of commanders ... he became revered. We had our own means of generating base-programs, we were free to conquer as we wanted, take what was ours, free of the war that yoked us to a plough that led in circles. And he personified that freedom. He became the symbol of an unfettered, boundless future. And he led us away from Cybertron to Andraxus where we dug at the foundations of the city he spoke of, in visions and reflections of the future."

Thunderwing turned to face me. He kept to the old protocols and never directly looked at me, always askance as I ranked below him. Yet now he stared at me, his optics a feral green, like warning lamps. I felt unnerved.

"Yet Starscream had no idea how to handle the situation. He spent most of his time building models from rock and talking to the engineers. "We'll do that." he'd say. "Ah, a bridge just there. Perfect. That will link up with the Promenade and that bypass I might name after Onslaught ..."

"I was forced to deal with someone utterly removed from reality."

"I took Starscream aside and pointed out the situation. "'Morale is low. You must order them back to work. Tell them to cease these pit fights and their gambling. They are rabble. Chaos is rampant.'

"'I can't do that.', he said.

"Why not ?"I asked him.

"And then he blathered the basis of his motivation, that he was going to develop an alternate political structure. A republic in which the government owned the means of production and a few vague democratic elements thrown in to mollify the rabble.

"'They've been sheep for so long. ' Starscream continued. 'It's time they started thinking for themselves.

They have the dream of an empire to come, a city. It's about time they thought about other things as well - about how that city is going to be governed, and who is going to administer justice and the like. If I start lording over them like some petty despot we'll back in the dark ages.'"

"I knew that he had spent most of the later years of the Great War, his "death" years, on Cybertron as an Autobot prisoner of war. He seemed to hold the Autobot Commander, Rodimus Prime, in great respect. It is strange that he had not been executed or disposed of, for though the Autobots prided themselves on their being merciful, they would not have entertained one of Starscream's character for long. He was hated amongst them, loathed for war crimes and other sundry atrocities. Yet for years he remained there, as a guest or pet of the Autobot Commander, or parasite .... before suddenly appearing before us on Iacon Point to lead us against the Carnibots.

"With that knowledge to draw on, I accused him of being corrupted by Autobot sympathies, that his philosophy was weak and as empty as theirs had been.

"'Me ?' he seemed amused. 'Far from it. They're the ones stuck in a rut. No, when we get this empire going I want to do it right. Establish it bit by bit from the ground up. Look - I'll explain, how long have we been fighting for ? Four, five million years. And what have we got to show for it ? A lump of rock ? Before we leap aboard our ships and sail off into the dark black yonder I want to establish something we can fight for. A place we can return to from pillaging and conquests. A place to come back to, instead of drifting about the universe like so much flotsam.'"

"'That's all very well. It is the way you go about it.' I pointed out." You give no leadership, only false securities, endless speeches."

"'It's going to take a bit more than spit-shined boots and military parades to conquer the universe, Thunderwing. You go off and have a think about that.'

"At that time Soundwave was my closest confidant. I spoke of my fears to him. I warned him that the Lord Commander was mad, obsessed with the future, having no sense of the present.

"'The Matrix touched him deeply.' Soundwave explained.

"'Yes, everyone says that and goes about with this awe-struck look. Whereas we are behind production, if our Lord Commander bothered to view the schedules, the units are rowdy and do not work as efficiently as they ought to. This glorious future he goes about preaching is going to happen despite him, not because of him.'

"'Then you deal with it, "Soundwave said.

"And deal with it I did. I had to organise the first Enforcement units, I had to lay the groundwork of the social system. While Starscream stumbled about and preached his dreams in a daze, I made them happen. I co-ordinated builders, supplies, logistics. I watched Andraxus rise from the dust.

"But I was not content. I coveted the devotion that the rabble gave to Starscream. I wanted the praise, the glory. Like a freshly-oiled grunt, I was clung to my superior, seeking titbits of praise and commendations. I had still not learned the value of station. That there is a rank we are designed for, that we serve the mass by accommodating that station.

"One day I challenged Starscream for command.

"'Be sure this is what you want, Thunderwing.' he said carefully. 'You're good with the old breed, good at giving orders and taking them. Don't throw away a future power-base just because you think I move too slowly.'

"'Slow.... ' I said. 'You are incompetent. Nothing gets done. If there is a problem you cover it up with words. You laugh about it and joke and hide it from reality. You waste your time getting them to ... vote ... when you could be giving orders. I served under command long enough to know a weak leader. And you are weak.'

"Starscream opened a hand and there was a gleaming black cube. 'Take it from me, Thunderwing. I won't fight you.'

"I laughed. I had seen him at the Ascension. I had seen what he was capable of. 'No tricks ?' I asked. Hungering for what I saw was the ultimate symbol of leadership.

"'No tricks.'

"'The Decepticon Matrix.' I said, greedily.

"'Hardly. The Decepticons are no more. Haven't you listened to word I've been saying ? '

"'Talk will get you nowhere.' I said, and grasped at the cube.

I howled.

"'Hmm.' Starscream said. 'It's never done that before.'

"'Done what ?' I screamed.

"'I was expecting you to wind up like the others. Nevermind.'

"'The others ??' Every movement was agony. My mechanical processes stopped. I felt my architectural integrity shattering. I felt my mind separating into component programs, then slipping back together in a different order.

"'It was quite fascinating, really. It wiped the master programs. Through mere touch. Left them a blank slate. No higher functions whatsoever. A walking zombie.'

"I noticed that my limbs were glowing, being clung to by a hungry nimbus of light.

"'What is it ?' I managed.

"'An ANDRAX. Our inheritance. Better you died a thousand deaths than know the details. Don't speculate about it. Accept it. You'll be better off thinking of it as an energy field, surrounding you. It draws energy. You will have no need for fuel. It renders you impervious to force, absorbing, translating kinetic energy into power. It serves as a foundation program, so you can write to datacores. Perhaps it does other things as well ...'

"'You mean that you have no idea ?' I demanded. 'You let this glowing parasite infest your body and yet you have little knowledge of the consequences ?'

"'Look. Stop panicking. I'm still here, aren't I ? When the Carnibot chucked that thing at me I was surprised at the next person. It ... took me on a little historical trip. Round to the beginning of the universe, the end, our creation. Easy viewing.'

"'Our creation ?' I gasped, realising that he was distracting me.

"'Yeah well. It was a let down. A bit of a shock.'

"'Primus ?'

"'No, nothing like that. Something terribly mundane. Logical and plausible. But it disgusted me, to think we came from a race that ....'

"'Aaarrgh !'

"'Oh. It's starting. This should be interesting, Buzzsaw. I warrant you that our friend is going to be in for a ride ...'"

"I was heavy with power. I was omnipotent. I could crush moons and swallow stars. I could destroy every thing on this wretched ball of dust and soar into the darkness, leaving this miserable civilisation behind me, I could ...

"Starscream. The Lord Commander. I focused on him, all that rage and burgeoning power, surfacing behind me. He who thought himself the messiah, the leader of our race up from where we had been grubbing in the dirt to claim the heavens for ourselves, to suck the marrow of life from the universe ... but he said we had to worthy of claiming that life. Worthy of having an city and empire and ...

"Starscream. I saw him with different eyes. I saw the matrix of energy crackling and travelling round his armoured limbs. It was darkness. Negative space. It was as if he was being swallowed by a terrible void and he was only one footstep into reality. An abyss suckled at his heels. He flickered in and out of darkness.

"Power filled me. Stripped down to the core of my ancestry I was pure Decepticon. Primitive and raw. I knew that he would subjugate me. I knew that I wanted to be in command. I knew that I must destroy him.

"I lunged. I burned with power. And as I struck him our lines of energy crossed. They flared and repelled another. I struck him again and then they intersected. I struck him a final time and the earth moved. Something shifted.

"I was intransigent. I could move through rock and walls and other bodies, ghost-like. Starscream fought back, clawing at me as pummelled another through
unmoving comrades, through ditches and walls.

"I felt the reality about us twist and turn and then I was aware that we were on a vast plain of rubble and ash and I looked up and saw the pale red sky of Andraxus' planet. I saw a city in ruins. I saw dead shells, sucked of energy.

"'This is what happens every time I come here.' Starscream said calmly. 'Hnnn. I don't think that the ANDRAX like fighting another. This is what you call a polite warning before they drop the bomb. As you may notice this is an alternate future. We get the city built but it gets ripped apart.'

"'Invaders, political dissidents ...' I offered, my rage drained at the miracle of the event.

"'Nope. It's a rebellion. All the lower classes take it into their heads that they can rule just as well as the officer-caste. I'm not sure what triggers it. Along most pathways where we maintain our military structure we always seem to collapse just as the Empire reaches its height. So I though that if we let the classes govern themselves and the like, while still maintaining the officer-caste who instead become elected officials or public servants, we'd be flexible enough to survive the rebellion. And having attempted that, the vision always changes to this ....'

"I saw the same scene as before. The red light of the sky ... but then I saw the gleaming city, healthy and fat. I saw the rabble and they were content.

"'We'll just be shifting the power base a bit, Thunderwing. Not too much, but we make the society content. So they won't turn against us. We'll be governors, protectors. It'll be our station.'

"'Yes' ... I murmured. ' The Decepticon Empire should be a stable thing, not prone to the constant power-shifts and struggles that have dogged our faction for so many eons.'

"'The Decepticons are long gone, Thunderwing. There's only Andraxus now.'

"I admitted my errors and we made peace."

"I had been thinking that the old Decepticon hierarchy still existed, that the chain of command ran intact from the higher to the lower. Instead it had been superseded. We would need a larger structure to govern a much larger base. Parasites clung to the Lord Commander, calling themselves officials and aides and he ignored them all. He talked to the engineers and construction workers, the gamblers and those who fought in the pits. I thought him wasting his time. I did not realise he was currying favour with the rabble, becoming approachable and therefore a desirable leader. Because he pretended to care, because he pretended to bother with valves and stopper-pipes, leakages and internal-diagnostics. Whether or not the visions he showed me were true, which I doubted ... I recognised the merit of his words.
"And that is why I bother with ASWP. My own Foundation Party still has the majority of seats in the Senate but we must be careful to appease the rabble and throw them scraps from time to time. I cannot be bothered to deal with rogue splinter factions that may snowball into power in the near future. That is why the Empire must be governed with caution, lest we repeat the terrible mistakes of the past. To each their own station, and let them be content with it."

Yet even to me the rhetoric seemed cold and empty, as if he saw no value in his own words.

I believe that the visit to Andraxus marked a turning point for Thunderwing. Shortly after that event he planned a series of heavy purges of all his staff, erasing their data cores with hands smoking of ANDRAX-energy.

We carted the shells away, as Thunderwing ordered blank data-cores to be made en masse. He would prime them, holding the circuitry reverently as they crackled into life in the pale flames of his ANDRAX. Such overhauls occurred frequently and I believe that he was attempting to create a perfect personality template that could be re-used. Perhaps the priming process was not as random as it was made out to be, perhaps the one wielding the ANDRAX left something of his own essence inside of the new creations. This behaviour was symptomatic of Thunderwing's long term goals. Any means to end, was what he preached. He was after a loyal, supportive staff and he was a perfectionist and he was very thorough.

I saw through the stalwart armour he erected around himself. His dreams made him vulnerable. I could not glimpse the depths of his obsession but I know it was his driving passion and it guided him throughout the long dark years. Eventually I could see the pressure building up inside of him. He was gone for long periods of time, always alone, trembling with the weight of the responsibility he had brought down upon his shoulders. One day he simply told me his plans when we were alone together, as if he felt buffeted by my constant, silent attendance.

On the viewing port he was framed by the thick clusters of stars. He regarded the skies for some time. He had returned from a long absence and I could sense something significant had happened. He cradled a small storage box to his armour plates. It held the weight of the future.

"I thought, for many years, that we were achieving the dream of every Decepticon who fell in the Great War." Thunderwing began suddenly. "We were building an Empire, one that give our race the stars that we craved. I let Starscream do it his way. But I let him destroy what were in the gaining of that goal. He has done something that the Autobots could never do ... destroy the Decepticons completely and utterly and replace it with the tarnished bauble that is Andraxus. Decepticons ... never voted, or let themselves be consumed by politics ... they did not worship the spectacle of mass, organised combat. They let themselves be given the spoils of victory, rotting bones to dogs, never to realise that the victory is nothing. Andraxus is a hollow shell and all who sit there holding it up are damned."

I was alarmed by this tirade. I would not see Thunderwing throw away his life on such a useless endeavour.

"My lord, though your ambitions are mighty, the Strip has not the resources to support a full-scale assault upon Andraxus. We are a community of miners and ore-carriers. We would perish."

"I know that, dolt. That is why I sought the aid of the other High Lords. I would have nothing to do with Mindwipe, that drivelling idiot. Does he think that I would forget the travesties committed in the bleeding pools of Nebulos ? Does he think I would support his dying compatriots, with their mounted brain-tanks full of organics and other filth ? Soundwave is unapproachable. Cyclonus sits on Khalhyer and dreams of Galvatron. He would attempt nothing against Andraxus. His spine has been cut out and he is an empty puppet of Starscream's. And Darkheart is ... not even remotely one of us. Yes, over half our number are not pure Transformers, with their minds clotted with organic pollutants and some are ... aliens, pretending, as they walk among us ..."

"I would see the Decepticons live again. I would see that it is Transformers who will inherit the stars. Those composed of data-cores, meta-processors, fuel pumps."

"A noble cause," I noted. "However, my lord, you would recall that the High Lords are possessed of an ANDRAX. Such I an energy field you and I both possess. And any battle between two who are enhanced with ANDRAX would not be possible, if my lord were to recall his combat with the Lord Commander upon interfacing with the Matrix."

"Are you quite finished ?"

"Yes, my lord." I answered carefully.

"Have I ever failed you ? Do I not plan for every contingency ?"

"You do, my lord."

"And would I idiotically attack Andraxus with an armada composed of fuel carriers, ore-strippers and refiners?"

"No, my lord."

"Then have faith in me, Ashraker. I have not stepped over the edge of insanity, like the Lord Commander. I saw him naked in the Well and it was a terrible sight. All his thoughts exposed, confused and churning ..."Thunderwing trailed off at this and then smoothly switched subjects.

"You will recall my ability at manipulating ANDRAX. I had the Matrix removed from the Hall of Remembrance and brought here for further study."

"Removed, my lord ?"I asked dubiously. Such a task would be next to impossible.

"Yes. Do not question me, Ashraker. As I said, I had the Matrix removed and brought here. I have wondered at its dual nature. Sometimes it gives, sometimes it takes. I have been fortunate to glimpse the nature of those whom it bestows its gifts upon. I have been able to predict those it will interface with, such as Cyclonus, Soundwave and yourself."

As always when he was pleased at relating a monologue, Thunderwing began to turn and pace.

"I thought that if it could create an ANDRAX, it would be able to destroy one, leaving the host vulnerable like any other Transformer."

"Indeed, my lord ?"

"Indeed ! I have managed to interface within the Matrix core ... They say that its opposite, the old Autobot Matrix of Leadership was filled with the personalities of its dead hosts and the personalities yet to come. Swimming in a sea of personalities ... Do you know what was inside our Matrix, Ashraker ?"

"No, my lord." I responded.

"Nothing, Ashraker. Nothing at all. Our Matrix is as dead as Starscream's black heart. I thought it would perhaps contain something ... but it is dead, with not even the residue of the millions of unknown personalities it has absorbed over the years. Inside the Matrix core I was able to reach inside and bring some of that nothingness back. Is that clear to you, Ashraker ?"

"No, my lord."

"Ah ! Perhaps you recall the visage of the High Lord of Khalhyer ?"

"Yes, my lord. I have seen Lord Mindwipe at the last meeting of the High Council. It was only for a few moments, but I have his image recorded, as our minds record all things."

"Then you know who this belongs to ?"

At that Thunderwing opened the small box he was carrying.

He removed a head, trailing wires and connections and then a small reinforced tank with fluid leaking out of punctured holes. It was, I realised with sinking heart, the head of Lord Mindwipe's base mode and the small tank of organics floating in a sea of nutrients which had provided Lord Mindwipe with all of his higher functions, in place of a meta-processor.

"Those are the components of Lord Mindwipe, my lord." I said carefully.

"And what does that prove to you, Ashraker ?"This was the climax of Thunderwing's long speech, and he was filled with mirth as he brought home his point.
"It proves that you can destroy ANDRAX, my lord." Has Thunderwing really done it ? Had he destroyed the indestructible ? I felt my own ANDRAX ripple involuntarily, as if it were sentient, although that conjecture is nonsense.

"Excellent, Ashraker. I see you are not as dim as you appear most of the time. I shall keep these grotesque trophies as evidence to show Cyclonus on our next visit to Khalhyer. Come, Ashraker."

With troops from the Far Worlds, Khalhyer and the Strip, Thunderwing was able to construct a respectable armada. I was unsure of its capabilities to attack the Homeworld and thus I spent much of my time taking inventories, outfitting supplies, checking weapons and drilling troops. Thunderwing consumed himself with talks with Cyclonus and drawing up grand schemes and plans. It was to be a stealth attack, dropping on Andraxus when the Lord Commander was absent on a trip to the Ring Worlds. I thought that if, as Thunderwing boasted, he could destroy an ANDRAX with a single touch, then all he would have to do pretend to visit the Lord Commander for a trade meeting and then simply deprive him of the ANDRAX and then finish him off.

However, I was not Thunderwing and those choices were not mine to make. I busied myself with inventories and statistics until Thunderwing ordered the strike on the Hydra Complex. It was located at a far corner of the Strip. Although it was technically a part of Thunderwing's Seat it was filled with miner's and researchers based who answered to the Executives in Andraxus.

Thunderwing believed that our race had to be redeemed. And that he was the instrument of that redemption. He associated the old order with stability and endurance. The political morass that consumed Andraxus was too shifting and volatile to propel our race to its promised conquest of all the distant stars. It was too indirect. Power had slowly dribbled away from the High Council to be spread among the lower levels, where it fed corruption. Thunderwing believed that it had to be cleaned, brought into line, before the High Council was left only as an impotent figure-head.

This was the belief that possessed him, the one that shaped our forces into the compact strike team fell upon the Hydra Complex, a small base carved into a misshapen spheroid on the edge of the Strip.

"Ashraker ..."

"My lord."

"See them down there, scurrying like insects. They have no concept of enormities. They care only for the day to day existence that they eke out. They work, they game in the Pits, they go to war for us. They are the backs on which Andraxus was built. And because of that they have the Senate. And because of the Senate the High Lords bicker and whine and scheme against each other when we should be strong and undivided. We must have unity. This is the first step in bringing about that unity, Ashraker. The first step on a long and hard road.

"Now it is time to strike ! Go forth, my warriors. Leave nothing to oppose us."

Hydra's defence systems were merely token. We ruptured the outer perimeter and managed to gut the communications web, distorting any Well-links. The Coreminds would be aware of a disruption but they would be unable to respond or identify the exact nature of the disruption. The dropships slid into the port-lock which was jammed open and the troops swarmed into the base. The sleeping infiltration squad had done their job, securing key figures and neutralising offensive objects.

In a short period we had established control over the base. We managed to tap the spine of the Well - cut through the upper levels of data-security of a host Coremind - and isolate a datacluster that information on the defences of Andraxus. The first victory was achieved.

This is where I would like to end my narrative. When our forces were victorious, when Thunderwing burned with pride and hope and was the driven, astute commander I had served for so long. I do not wish to remember the gibbering, psychotic figure who squatted over a mountain of heads and gutted bodyshells in the Spires, who uttered insanity in every word, who ruled over a city stripped of power and life. The enormous decline I watched him go through could perhaps be attributed to an inner turmoil, or perhaps not.

One of Thunderwing's driving passions was his loathing of the Lord Commander, a fact which I cannot easily explain. I asked him point-blank after the Hydra Operation, risking my position as a confidant and as a passive observer.

"Starscream ... is an abomination. That ... thing which sits in the Spires and calls itself Starscream is not the Starscream I served under on Cybertron.

"Where did all this left-wing rubbish come into his head ? It wasn't present before ... you should have seen him, Ashraker, he was hungry for power for the rest of us, driven by a massive ego and a violent lust for command. He required constant attention, to be the centre of the circle. I believe that that Starscream was another casualty of the Great War. The one who rules in Andraxus is something else ..."

"My lord, perhaps it was when he first interfaced with the Matrix that brought
this change in demeanour. It has changed many things among us and ..."

"The Matrix cannot explain everything, Ashraker. It enhances, exaggerates, amplifies. It cannot create a new personality in a symbiont. I know the Matrix, Ashraker, inside and out, I have gone to places where the others have only scratched the surface. Do not doubt my word again."

"As you command, my lord."

"I am his superior, Ashraker. I have none of his weaknesses."

"Yes, my lord."

"None, Ashraker. My ANDRAX is inviolate."

"And the Lord Commander ?"

Thunderwing flickered with pride. "The Well is a dangerous sea whose waters I fear. Oh, Starscream loathes it more than his true nature. I have observed this weakness in him. A real-time full-sense connection to the Well in full simulation would confuse his ANDRAX, cause it flare in the virtual environment and not the physical. Then a physical attack would work perhaps. I have done some work using myself as a subject. I have thought about it ... but with the ability to siphon other ANDRAX it was an area of research I found no longer necessary."

"Excellent, my lord."

"He claims to know the future as others know the past, but I doubt that. In any case, I have discovered something beyond price. Hidden away on poor Mindwipe's world, locked beneath the ice. I have been observing a signal for sometime now. I have sent troops to investigate. If it means what I think it does ..."

But he would say no more. He turned from me and said: "Go about your duties, Ashraker. Secure this area. Make sure nothing gets out."

"Yes, my lord."

No, I shall not recount the long, unstable period in which Thunderwing was Lord Commander. So single-minded was he upon obtaining the symbol of ultimate leadership in Andraxus, the title of Lord Commander, that he did not provision for much else. The economy collapsed overnight. Trade in Strip faired not much better. The mines were dug out and with all the Strip's available resources bent on holding Andraxus, there was no one to prospect resources among the asteroids, no one to enforce that ore would be mined and shipped and refined into metals and fuels. Our race was starved of fuel. We had cut our own underbelly open. It was period of decay and decline. Thunderwing sat alone in the Spires, illuminated by the dim colours of the distant star-clusters as he sat upon a heaped pile of bodyshells ... but I repeat myself, in trying to skirt around a period that is long gone.

I remember his madness. It was so uncharacteristic. He had destroyed Cyclonus, staking the streamlined head of the Lord of the Far Worlds on a pike, letting all who entered the Spires see what happened when he was displeased. He wandered the dead, ruined city, looking for the Lord Commander, firing his weaponry at intermittent shadows. He sat crouched in dim corners, his dull green optics randomly flickering as he surveyed the night he had brought to Andraxus. He called out to me, behoving me to listen to long, rambling siloquets with no beginning and no end ... how I missed the organised speeches of before ! And this madness never left him, not even in his last battle with the Lord Commander. He fought erratically, making many mistakes, relying upon a non-existent ANDRAX to protect him. He seemed surprised, at that last moment, as if expecting the protective flare of light to absorb the kinetic force of the Lord Commander's blow.

As the light died in Thunderwing's optics, the Lord Commander rested his foot upon the broken frame of the High Lord of the Belt Mining Strip. "How far you've fallen." I heard him say distinctly. "How very far."

Now, it is I, Ashraker, who humbly holds the rank and title of the Lord of the Belt Mining Strip. I surrended to the mercy of the remnants of the High Council. They saw fit to levy the Strip with such embargos and taxes that it will take our depleted mining force years to recover. I am now dependant upon Andraxus for the most basic of necessities. Yet I still hold my head up high, for I am alive, as the Lord Commander spared my life. I would not have done so in his place, but it is he who rules Andraxus, not I, and I must be a loyal subject for the time being.

Every so often I deploy troops to check the signal that is emitted at regular intervals from a certain point beneath the Khalhyer ice cap. All have returned: saying that they cannon find it, that it shifted to another point. This last expedition has been most promising. I received a transmission through my agents. The signal has been located. Unfortunately the expedition met with some mishap and are presumed terminated. I await further developments.

I have little respect for the current Lord of Khalhyer, Slag. He is an ex-gladiator and is quite mad. Sometimes the Matrix is fickle when it choose to bestow its gifts. I am sure that even if the dull-witted brute was aware of my expeditions he would do nothing.

I think of Thunderwing quite often.

Somewhere out there, I believe there is a culprit. Someone hides in the shadow-world of the political infrastructure that runs Andraxus, controlling the High Council like so many puppets. When you are the High Lord of your own particular Seat, you believe that you have absolute dominion over it. Yet Thunderwing was aware of limitations which vexed him greatly.

I believe that this nameless entity was responsible for Thunderwing's seeming prescience. Someone was responsible for feeding Thunderwing great gobbets of false information, with enough truth mixed in them to give them the appearance of being valid. How else could he have removed the Matrix from the Hall of Remembrance, taken Andraxus so unawares ? But he was lied to. With false information he duly planned his takeover of Andraxus and that false information was responsible for his demise. Someone developed his madness, someone fanned the flames of his hatred, someone shattered his iron-shell of self-will and let him slip into a primitive madness of times long past. Someone played Thunderwing, gently guiding him by intangible strings. It is a fact I am dimly aware of. Like Thunderwing, I do not trust the Well.

Thunderwing had had a dream. He followed it, as best he could, but was overburdened with the dead-baggage of the past.

Perhaps he would reigning over the Strip if he had been more cautious, had not let his overwhelming loathing for the Lord Commander dominate his character to the exclusion of all else, if he had realised that Andraxus was made of seven Seats and not one.

But then, he would not have been Thunderwing.

The End