Location: Galactic Council Refugee Convoy – Deep Space POV: Captain Leran
The Tempest Flare shuddered as it passed through the outskirts of the Zaranthi Nebula. Around it, the remnants of the Council fleet limped forward—scarred warships, overloaded freighters, and passenger liners crammed with survivors. Once a proud flotilla, it now looked like a ragtag band of scavengers fleeing a predator.
Captain Leran paced the bridge of the Tempest Flare, his optics scanning the tactical display. The ship's sensors showed faint signatures in the nebula's distant haze, but none of them matched Decepticon patterns—yet.
"We can't keep running like this," his XO said, her voice tight. "The fleet's barely holding together. Half the warships are running on auxiliary power."
Leran grimaced. She wasn't wrong. Every jump they made pushed their battered engines closer to failure, and the Decepticons weren't giving them any breathing room. The last report from Artaeus amd Talos Prime had been grim—total annihilation. No survivors.
"What choice do we have?" he muttered. "We regroup, we repair, and we pray they don't find us."
The tactical officer's console beeped urgently. "Captain, I've got something—multiple contacts, inbound at high speed!"
Leran's optics widened. "Decepticons?"
"No, sir," the officer replied, relief coloring her voice. "It's the Triumvirate's Promise and her escorts. Reinforcements."
The bridge let out a collective sigh of relief as the towering command ship emerged from the nebula, its gleaming hull a stark contrast to the battered remnants of the fleet. Smaller ships flanked it, their weapons bristling with readiness.
As the Triumvirate's Promise hailed them, Leran allowed himself a sliver of hope. Perhaps they could regroup, rebuild. Perhaps they weren't finished yet.
But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that it wouldn't be enough.
---
Location: Decimator – Command Chamber
POV: Galvatron
The Decimator sailed through the void, its engines burning with steady resolve. Galvatron stood at the heart of the command chamber, his optics fixed on the holographic map before him. The Galactic Council's core worlds glowed faintly, their defensive networks highlighted in crimson.
"Status report," he said, his voice cutting through the ambient hum of the chamber.
Drachen stepped forward, his frame imposing even in the dim light. "The fleet is regrouping near the Zaranthi Nebula. Their remaining forces are bolstered by reinforcements, but their numbers are insignificant compared to ours."
"Insignificant," Galvatron echoed, his tone thoughtful. He turned to Nightburn, who stood silently at the edge of the room. "Your assessment?"
Nightburn's visor flickered. "Their movements are predictable. They lack coordination and resources. A direct assault will shatter them."
Galvatron's optics narrowed. "Predictable, perhaps. But desperation makes creatures dangerous."
He gestured to the map, highlighting the Zaranthi Nebula. "They think the nebula will shield them. It will not. We will strike with precision, dividing their forces and leaving them no escape."
Drachen nodded. "I'll lead the ground forces once we reach their primary staging point."
"And the skies are mine," Thunderblast chimed in, her tone eager. "They won't know what hit them."
Galvatron's optics swept over his lieutenants. "This will be the final blow to their outer defenses. After this, we push into the core worlds. Let them see the futility of their resistance."
His voice hardened, his crimson optics blazing. "No mercy. No hesitation. This galaxy belongs to Cybertron."
---
Location: Zaranthi Nebula – Council Fleet Rear Guard POV: Admiral Jurek
Admiral Jurek stared at the tactical display aboard the Triumvirate's Promise, his optics scanning the Decepticon fleet's movements. The enemy was closing in fast, their formation tight and unrelenting.
"We can't hold this position," his tactical officer said. "We're outnumbered three to one."
Jurek's fists clenched. "We hold as long as we can. The refugees need time to escape."
A comm officer turned toward him, her face pale. "Admiral, the Decimator is moving into position."
Jurek's optics snapped to the display, where the massive flagship loomed like a shadow of death. The tactical projections were clear—if the Decimator unleashed its primary weapon, the fleet wouldn't stand a chance.
"Redirect all firepower to the Decimator," he ordered. "We have to disable it before it gets into range."
The fleet's guns roared to life, their plasma bolts and missiles streaking toward the Decepticon flagship. Smaller Decepticon ships surged forward to intercept, their shields flaring as they absorbed the onslaught.
Jurek watched as the Decimator's superweapon began to charge, its violet core glowing ominously. His fists tightened as he barked his final command.
"All ships, engage at will! For the Council!"
---
Location: Decimator – Weapons Deck
POV: Galvatron
The Decimator's primary weapon fired, its violet beam cutting through the nebula with devastating precision. The blast struck the Triumvirate's Promise, splitting the command ship in half. The resulting explosion sent shockwaves through the fleet, scattering debris and smaller ships in every direction.
Galvatron watched from the command deck, his optics blazing with satisfaction. Around him, his officers reported the fleet's progress, their voices blending into a symphony of triumph.
"Thunderblast," Galvatron said, his voice calm. "Finish the stragglers."
"With pleasure, my Lord," Thunderblast replied, her tone dripping with glee.
He turned to Drachen. "Deploy the ground forces. Ensure nothing is left of their staging points."
"Yes, my Lord," Drachen said, bowing slightly before leaving the chamber.
Galvatron's optics returned to the display. The Galactic Council was crumbling, their defenses collapsing under the weight of his campaign. The core worlds were within reach, and nothing would stop him.
"This galaxy belongs to Cybertron," he said, his voice a quiet declaration of inevitability. "And to me."
---
Location: Zaranthi Nebula – Galactic Council Rear Guard POV: Admiral Jurek
The Triumvirate's Promise groaned as another volley of plasma bolts struck its hull. Admiral Jurek stood at the tactical console, his gaze locked on the holographic display. The Decepticon fleet pressed forward like an unstoppable tide, their formations tightening as they prepared for the final blow.
"Redirect power to the forward shields!" Jurek barked. "We'll hold them here!"
His officers worked frantically, their movements a blur as they followed his orders. The display flickered, showing the Decimator as it loomed closer. Its superweapon charged again, the violet core glowing with ominous intensity.
"Sir, we've lost contact with the second defense line," one of the officers reported, their voice trembling. "The Decepticons are—"
"I know where they are!" Jurek snapped. "Focus fire on their lead ships. We need to buy time for the convoy to escape!"
The bridge shuddered violently as the Decimator unleashed its devastating beam. The energy tore through the Council's remaining cruisers, leaving nothing but debris in its wake. Jurek gritted his teeth as alarms blared around him.
"Admiral," another officer said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We're not going to make it."
Jurek's optics flicked toward the viewport, where the hulking form of the Decimator filled the horizon. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel the weight of his failure.
"Prepare for ramming speed," he said quietly.
The bridge fell silent. "Admiral?"
"You heard me!" he barked, slamming his fist against the console. "If this is the end, then we take that monster with us!"
The crew hesitated for only a moment before moving into action. The Triumvirate's Promise turned sharply, its engines flaring as it accelerated toward the Decimator. Jurek stood tall, his optics blazing with defiance.
"For the Council," he muttered, watching as the distance between the two ships closed.
Before they could strike, a streak of violet light pierced the Triumvirate's Promise, tearing it apart from within. The ship exploded in a fiery burst, its wreckage scattering across the nebula.
---
Location: Decimator – Command Deck
POV: Galvatron
Galvatron observed the destruction of the Triumvirate's Promise with calm satisfaction. The bridge was quiet, the silence broken only by the hum of the ship's systems and the faint chatter of tactical reports. Around him, his officers stood at attention, their optics fixed on the displays.
"Status?" Galvatron asked.
"Their fleet is in complete disarray, my Lord," Drachen reported. "The survivors are retreating deeper into the nebula."
"Chase them down," Galvatron said. "No survivors."
He turned to Nightburn, who stood silently near the command console. "Deploy teams to track the remaining ships and destroy them."
Nightburn nodded. "It will be done."
Galvatron's optics flicked to the holographic display, where the scattered remnants of the Council's fleet drifted aimlessly. "This was inevitable," he said, his tone devoid of emotion. "The Galactic Council clings barely they will not survive Cybertron will stand strong the Decepticons will win."
He stepped forward, his gaze narrowing as he addressed his lieutenants. "Prepare the fleet for the next phase. We will strike at their core worlds next. Let this galaxy see the price of opposing me."
---
Location: Zaranthi Nebula – Civilian Convoy
POV: Captain Leran
The remnants of the convoy drifted in silence, their engines damaged, their comm channels filled with static. Captain Leran stood at the helm of the Tempest Flare, his hands gripping the console tightly. Around him, his crew worked in grim silence, their faces pale with exhaustion.
"They're gone," his XO said quietly. "The rear guard... the Admiral... they're all gone."
Leran closed his optics for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. "What's the status of the convoy?"
"Half the ships are crippled," she replied. "The rest... we can still move, but not for long."
The comms crackled, and a frantic voice broke through. "This is the freighter Silver Dawn—we've detected Decepticon signatures closing in! We—"
The transmission ended abruptly, replaced by static. Leran's optics snapped to the tactical display, where several red blips appeared on the outskirts of the convoy. Decepticon warships.
"Battle stations!" he shouted. "We'll buy the others as much time as we can!"
The Tempest Flare turned to face the incoming ships, its weapons charging. Leran's crew braced for impact as the Decepticons fired, their plasma bolts tearing through the convoy's scattered ships. Explosions lit up the nebula, the flames casting eerie shadows over the drifting debris.
In the end, there was nothing left but silence.
---
Location: The Citadel – Command Spire
POV: Shockwave
Shockwave's laboratory was a hive of activity, its sterile corridors filled with the hum of machinery and the faint glow of energon conduits. The Decepticon scientist observed his latest creation with cold detachment, his single optic glowing faintly.
The laboratory's central chamber housed a massive assembly line, where dormant frames were being fitted with advanced weaponry and cybernetic enhancements. Shockwave's designs were efficient and brutal, optimized for Galvatron's ongoing campaign.
"Production is proceeding ahead of schedule," Shockwave reported, his voice emotionless. "The first wave of the new combat units will be ready for deployment within the next cycle."
Galvatron's hologram flickered to life before him, the Decepticon leader's optics burning with purpose. "Good. We will need them for the core worlds how goes the newly conquered worlds no problems I hope."
Shockwave inclined his head slightly. "No my Lord no problems have been noticed Cyberforming will begin after all resources and The Galactic Council's defeat though reinforcements are unlikely to change the outcome of this conflict. However, their desperation may lead to unorthodox tactics I do advise to be on the lookout for any potential threats."
"It will pose no threat to us now" Galvatron said. "With our momentum they can't stop us now."
Shockwave nodded "within the allocated time frame of Megatron's return to planet Earth and the Nemesis we shall have conquered the know Galaxy and the re-conquest of our colonies."
"Good Shockwave keep me informed of any updates or information you deem worthy of my time." The transmission cuts out.