Disclaimer time: The Transformers are not owned by me (but if they were....!!!!). Hasbro et. al. hold the copyrights. Crystal is my character, and this is her first appearance. Too bad she might not survive it... mwahaha! (oh no, I've been reading too many X-Men "Next Issue" blurbs!)

Setting: This little creation takes place around the year 2005. It is a sort of alternative interpretation of the events that lead up to the movie. For those of you who are keeping track, most of my stories are independent creations, based on a "What if?" question asked by my little brain. This time, a sputtering synapse fired, prompting the question, "What if the Decepticons won the war?" Thus, this tale has nothing to do with "Revelations".

How's my writing? Dial phantom1313@tfrid.com. :)

Darkest Hour

by Phantom

Chapter One

"Report!"

Optimus Prime uttered his usual command in any situation, but this time his voice was laced with an undercurrent of urgency. He knew that the sounds of nearby explosions and expenditure of ordinance, combined with the ominous shuddering of the base, could not mean anything good for the Autobots.

Prowl hastened to his leader's side. One look at his advisor's face told Prime all that he needed to know. Prowl's normally calm and composed demeanor was replaced with one of anxiety. With a sinking feeling, Prime realized that the situation was much worse than he imagined. Whatever could ruffle Prowl's composure had to be dire indeed.

"The Decepticons have taken us completely by surprise. The north wall has been breached, and the west and south have been drastically weakened."

Prime shook his head, not willing to believe the news, though it was stated matter-of-factly. "What happened to our security patrols?"

"They got the drop on us!" Mirage cried as he burst into the command center, with four Decepticon warriors on his heels. "They somehow managed to take out a third of our guards before we noticed a thing. By that time, it was too late -- our communications were jammed."

The Decepticons raised their weapons to fire another volley. They pitched forward suddenly, smoke rising from their chasses. Smokescreen turned his back on the charred hulks and aimed down the corridor at another wave of intruders.

"South wall has collapsed!" Chromia announced with horror.

Kup hefted his weapon determinedly. "Prepare to resist intruders!"

Prowl shook his head sadly. "It was a mistake to remain here at this base while the Decepticons control so much of Cybertron. Our position has proved to be untenable."

Prime's shoulders slumped. "I know, Prowl," he said softly, "but there were no other options. Our moon bases are still under construction, and the females' headquarters is not large enough to quarter us all until we make our exodus. The Iacon base remains the best solution. Unfortunately, it seems that it simply isn't good enough."

His last words were drowned out by a magnificent eruption that shook the base to its foundation. A rallying cry followed, and Prime knew that it was too much to hope for that it had come from his forces. Everything seemed to be happening faster than he could follow -- Autobots racing around madly, trying to repel the invaders; Decepticons forcing their way in, pressing the advantage, all obscured by the billowing smoke. At times, all that could be heard was the forceful blast of a fusion cannon and cries of victory, mingled with exclamations of pain and loud curses made in anger and frustration.

Then, all was silent. Prime's laser rifle fell from his hand as he realized numbly that there was nothing else that could be done. He turned as he felt a pair of arms wind themselves around his waist. Alita pressed her face into his chest as she began to sob. While her tears were only a fluid secreted for cleansing purposes, it made her grief no less real. Prime wrapped his arms around her trembling form, barely choking back a sob of his own. What hurt most of all was the fact that he had let her down. The two stood together, a still eye in the storm of the battle that surrounded them.

Alita reached into a compartment by her hip and withdrew a spherical shape. She held it out to Optimus as a final offering, borne both out of love and sorrow. She caressed his battle mask as he engulfed the concussion grenade, clutched in her tiny hand, with his own. She wished that she could remove the mask and kiss him goodbye properly, but there was no time. Staring deep into each other's optics, through to their souls, they embraced one last time as they prepared to press the detonator. All hope was lost. The war was finally over, and the Decepticons had won.

Chapter Two

"Well, isn't this charming? The two lovebirds are saying their last farewells. It's too bad that their goodbyes are premature!"

The couple looked up as the grenade was snatched from their hands. Smiling at them triumphantly was Megatron, holding the weapon aloft like a trophy. Behind him stood his gloating troops, guarding the Autobot army, who had their arms in the air in surrender. They looked to their leaders for support, but in their hearts they knew it was hopeless.

Alita wiped her tears away and glowered at the Decepticon leader. "I'll never give in to you!" she snapped defiantly.

Megatron chucked slightly. "Perhaps not, but the rest of your pathetic little army does not seem to agree. Unlike you, they know a losing situation when they see one. But go ahead and resist if you like -- I like feisty females." She turned her face to the side in disgust as he drew his finger down her cheek.

Prime glared angrily at the sight and struggled to come to her rescue, but the arms of Soundwave, Dirge, and Skywarp held him back. Sensing that resisting would only bring his beloved more pain, he allowed himself to be steered out of the base, followed by the rest of his defeated army.

"Well, what do we do now, Mighty Megatron?"

Megatron cringed inwardly. That infuriating voice grated on him like fingernails on a blackboard, and it was not just because of the shrill tone. He turned scornfully to face his second-in-command. "Isn't it obvious, you fool? We take them back to headquarters and secure them."

Starscream wasn't satisfied. "I meant *after* that, leader. When are we going to execute them? After all, we can't allow them to live. The probability of escape is too high."

Megatron's smirk grew even larger. "Starscream, you fail to see the artistry in my plan." Starscream, who considered himself to be the most sophisticated of all Transformers, bristled visibly. "The Autobots will be allowed to live until they can see the extent of our abilities. Then they will die with the knowledge that their defeat is absolute."

Megatron turned away abruptly. He had not time to waste with this simpleton -- a new era was dawning for the Decepticon empire, and he was prepared to usher it in with complete fanfare.

Chapter Three

"You'll never get away with this!"

"Calm down, Hot Rod!" Optimus reached out and forcibly held back the young Autobot as Hot Rod lunged at the bars, crying out in pain as his hands came in contact with the crackling force field.

Optimus shook his head. He wondered what had possessed the Decepticons to lock him in with this young hothead. He supposed that the 'Cons were low on space in their prison, due to the sudden increase in occupants. They were understandably unwilling to pair him up with a high-ranking soldier, such as Kup or Prowl, someone with whom he could plan an attack. So it looked like he was stuck with a companion whose moods seemed to swing dramatically from anger at his captors, depression at his capture, and awe for his cellmate. All were emotions that Prime could do without.

Prime gazed thoughtfully around at his surroundings. While he was sure that his cell was the most closely guarded of all those in the prison, it at least afforded him a clear view of all the other cells and their occupants. Feeling their leader's gaze upon them, each Autobot looked up and nodded, trying to assure him that they were all right. Some of them nursed superficial wounds, nothing that couldn't be repaired by their own systems.

Those with serious injuries had been taken to the med-bay at Soundwave's insistence. Megatron was reluctant to waste his resources on such undeserving patients, but having Autobots leak to death in his sparkling clean med-bay might be a bit messy. He wasn't in the mood to deal with angered Autobot uprisings over the death of their comrades -- not that they didn't have other casualties to riot over -- but in this case he'd err on the side of caution. And, though he hated to admit it, even to himself, but he had an uneasy premonition that the death of his enemies would cause more destruction than they ever could while living.

Once he had assured himself that the majority of his troops had adjusted well to their new accommodations, and that Hot Rod would not be making another mad dash at the bars anytime soon, Prime ventured toward the door and stared out at an adjacent cell where Alita sat with Firestar and Chromia. Instinctively sensing his gaze, Alita stood and walked over to the entrance to be closer to her love. They gazed at each other silently, communicating more than words could ever say.

Prime looked down briefly, breaking their spiritual connection. He prepared to speak, to address her verbally in a way that belied their intimate connection. The words died in his throat, however, as he watched in horror as she swayed on her feet, then began to topple backward. Only Firestar's quick actions kept Alita from collapsing to the floor.

"What is it? What's wrong with her? Tell me!" Prime exclaimed in a panic. He clutched the bars of his cell fiercely,

ignoring the sharp crackle of energy that they gave off.

Chromia held Alita's head while Firestar examined the fallen femme, checking her vital signs. "She has experienced a massive power drop. I can't find the reason why, though. I need specific diagnostic tools, which the Decepticons took from me."

That was all Prime needed to hear. "MEGATRON!!" he roared. "I know you're listening out there! You'd better get a medic down here fast and help Alita, or so help me I'll--"

"Silence," a toneless voice commanded. Prime shut up abruptly, more out of surprise than anything, as Soundwave entered the prison block. He held his weapon ready with one hand as he keyed in a command on the pad beside the cell. Firestar and Chromia handed over their leader grudgingly, glaring defiantly at the weapon the Decepticon held.

Soundwave hefted Alita's form into his arms. He pressed another key, and the bars slid back into place. Only then did he allow his weapon to return to subspace.

Feeling Prime's gaze on him, he turned and faced his enemy squarely. "You must remain here," he said flatly. There was something that flickered in his gaze -- but it was gone before Prime could identify it. Sighing, he slumped against the wall, as the Decepticon carried away his most important reason for living.

end of Chapters 1-3

go to Chapters 4-6
go to Table of Contents

return to Phantom's Fanfic Archive 1