Author's Note: I don't own Andromeda or Transformers. I'm just borrowing them. If I owned Andromeda, I'd have Trance doing the yard work, Harper upgrading my damn computer, Beka'd be a race driver, Dylan would be in the mental hospital, and Tyr'd be a bodyguard. So it's a good thing I don't own them!

Of Nietzscheans And Transformers

Captain Dylan Hunt of the Andromeda Ascendant sighed to himself as he walked onto the ship's command deck. Harper was needling Tyr again. Sometimes Dylan wondered if Harper had a death wish.

"Does Harper ever give up?" Beka Valentine asked under her breath.

"Not to my knowledge," Dylan answered. "But if Tyr puts him through a wall, it'll be his own fault."

"Shall we pry them apart before Tyr hurts him? After all, Harper is the only engineer on the ship."

"Then we'd better."

The two stepped onto the command deck just in time for Dylan to intercept Tyr as the big Nietzschean began walking toward Harper. The spiky-haired engineer had once again gotten under Tyr's skin.

"Let him live, Tyr," Dylan ordered.

"The little nuisance deserves to die," Tyr growled.

"But if you kill him, who'll fix the ship?"

Tyr considered that. Then he growled and returned to his station.

"Nice," Rommie commented. "That should keep him away from Harper for about ten minutes."

Dylan rolled his eyes. Rommie, the android avatar of the ship's AI, smiled to herself and returned her attention to monitoring the surrounding space for any possible danger.

Rommie looked like a normal human woman. She wore a tight-fitting uniform, and had red streaks in her black hair. But she was no normal woman. She was an android. Harper had built her soon after joining the crew of the Andromeda. She was stronger than anyone else on the crew, and could control all of the ship's systems even from outside the ship.

At the weapons console stood Tyr Anasazi, the Nietzschean. He was the last survivor of his pride, Kodiak, and now served as Andromeda's weapons and security officer.

Beka Valentine had been captain of a salvage ship called the Eureka Maru when she'd encountered the High Guard warship stuck in the fringes of a black hole. Dylan had convinced her to stay aboard as his first officer and pilot.

Trance Gemini, as usual, was on the med deck. She was an alien. Dylan had never heard of her species before, and she didn't volunteer much information. She was purple in color, with a prehensile tail. No one knew where she came from, or what her homeworld was. She never talked about it.

Seamus Harper had come aboard with Beka. He was the ship's engineer. A human from Earth, he was a notorious joker, but when it came to mechanics he was a genius. He'd suffered terribly on Earth. The planet was under the control of another Nietzschean pride, the Drago-Kazov. Harper had been a slave and an operative for the resistance movements. Andromeda had admitted that he was the best engineer who'd ever worked on her systems.

Dylan dragged his mind out of its musings when an image of the ship's AI appeared on the screen. "What is it, Andromeda?"

"I'm picking up energy flares. The energy is unlike anything we've ever encountered before."

"Where?" Dylan demanded.

"On the bridge, near Tyr."

All eyes turned in Tyr's direction. The Nietzschean looked around. At first there was nothing.

Dylan was about to relax slightly when a sudden burst of light made everyone look away, blinking dazzle-spots from their eyes. When Dylan turned back, what he saw made his instincts scream in warning.

A writhing, glowing tear had opened in the air next to Tyr. The edges glowed bluish, with hints of green, purple, and other colors flashing madly through it. The constant writhing and the fluctuating colors made looking straight at it dizzying. The edge of the hole touched Tyr, the colors wrapping briefly around him before letting go. Tyr backed away as the hole bulged and spat out a shape. The object fell to the deck, followed by four more. Then the hole shrank and vanished.

Warily, the crew of the Andromeda approached the motionless shapes.

The mission had gone badly for the Autobots. The Decepticons had shown up without warning, ambushing them. The shuttle lurched as another laser blast struck the shields. One of the pilots spat a heated curse as he fought with the controls.

Rodimus Prime clung to the arms of his command chair to avoid being thrown across the bridge. The shuttle lurched again, accompanied by another swear word from the pilot.

"Watch your language," Kup, the old Autobot, scolded.

"Leave him be, Kup," Rodimus ordered.

The old Autobot grumbled to himself, but subsided.

Ultra Magnus, Rodimus's second-in-command and lover, skidded past, off balance. He managed to grab hold of Rodimus's chair and hold on for dear life. In the passenger section, Springer yelled a heated profanity as yet another shot caused the shuttle to buck, throwing him into the wall.

"Sorry!" Blaster yelled back.

"Decepticons incoming!" Jazz warned.

"Fire!" Rodimus barked.

The damaged shuttle fired at the pursuing Decepticons, causing them to swerve out of the way, running into each other and barely avoiding the shots from the shuttle. Growling, the Decepticons resumed the pursuit. One of them fired at the same time the shuttle did. The two shots collided, and the starscape was lit by a furious explosion.

The explosion had done more than merely light up space. Where the explosion had occurred, a gaping tear in space formed. The edges writhed madly.

"What is that?!" Rodimus demanded.

"Unknown," Perceptor answered.

"Brace for impact!"

The shuttle hit the distortion head-on. Waves of madly flashing color swept through the ship. A high-pitched keening sound filled the air. Autobots clamped their hands over their audios, trying to block out the sound.

Suddenly, it was gone.

Shaken Autobots looked around. They were hovering in space. The strange distortion was gone.

As were Rodimus, Magnus, Kup, Springer, and Jazz.

Rodimus felt like he was being pulled apart molecule by molecule. He was hurtling headlong though a writhing, twisting tunnel, crashing into the walls and being flung around bends. His body was stretching, changing. Into what, he didn't know.

Ahead of him, a grey blotch appeared. There were shapes moving around on the other side. Was it the way out?

Rodimus's body had lost all traces of its former shape. He was a shapeless blob of metal, writhing in a dozen directions. He could almost feel the end of the tunnel touch something, and suddenly he was morphing again. He was suddenly on fire with pain, and blacked out before he ever saw what waited at the end of the tunnel.

Some time later, he wasn't sure how long, Rodimus came around. He groaned, pushing himself onto all fours, trying to regain his balance. Finally, he looked up.

In front of him stood a group of organic life forms. Four of them were human. The fifth looked human, but there were spikes on his forearms, so he wasn't human. All five were staring at him. The fact that they were looking down at him finally penetrated his brain, and he looked down at himself.

Human.

He groaned. Not again!

Then he noticed something new. On his forearms were spikes similar to the strange humanoid's, folded flat against his arms. Instead of being made of bone, they were made of metal, razor-edged steel. He stared at them. He'd been human before, but he'd never had spikes on his arms before. As he studied them, he attempted to move them. They bristled, standing on end, straight out. He concentrated, and they settled flat with a series of muted clicks.

Finally, he turned to look for his companions.

A humanoid male with dark blue hair lay unconscious nearby. Not far away lay another man, also out cold. Two others lay crumpled together. One had black hair. The other had hair that was yellow one moment, green the next. He figured that the black-haired one was probably Jazz, and the other was Springer. The blue-haired man was probably Magnus, which meant that the one with the red-brown hair was most likely Perceptor.

Rodimus forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly. He staggered over to Pperceptor and shook the unconscious scientist. Perceptor groaned, but didn't wake up. Rodimus shook harder, but got the same response.

A thought occurred to him. An evil smile spread over his face. He raised the spikes on his left forearm...

Poink.

"EEEEEYYYYYOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Perceptor shot forward, running straight into the wall. Rodimus winced at the sound of the impact. Perceptor staggered back, holding his face. There was a dent in the wall with Perceptor's features imprinted into it.

"What was that for?!" Perceptor demanded.

"You wouldn't wake up," Rodimus told him calmly.

Perceptor grumbled about the indignity as he looked around. One of the watching humans looked as if he was restraining laughter.

"What's so funny?"

The human burst out laughing.

A groan announced that Magnus had chosen that time to come around. The blue-haired man sat up, holding his head.

"What hit me?"

"That's what I'd like to know." Rodimus flipped his long, fiery-red hair over his shoulder.

"Did anyone get the licence number of the planet that hit me?" Jazz sat up stiffly. "Oh, my head."

"I think I've had way too much to drink," Springer, still face-down on the deck, commented. He even sounded drunk. "I have one hell of a hangover."

"You'll get over it."

Springer let out a long groan as he was dragged to his feet. He promptly collapsed into a sitting position, blinking owlishly.

"Whoa, neat!" Jazz had discovered the metal spikes on his forearms. "Where did these come from?"

Rodimus shrugged. "I have no idea, but we all have them."

"We're being watched," Magnus reminded him.

The young Prime nodded and turned to face their silent watchers.

Dylan eyed the five. They were tall and muscular, with Nietzschean forearm spikes. But none of them acted like Nietzscheans. The first one to wake up was the youngest. His hair was fiery red and fell past his waist. The second man, the one woken with a spike to the rear end, had short reddish-brown hair. He looked more like a professor or a scientist. The third, the calm one, was the tallest, a good six feet ten inches in height. He had dark blue hair falling past his waist. Of the other two, one had shoulder-length black hair and a ready grin. The fifth had long hair that appeared golden one moment, then green the next, changing color as he moved. All five had bright blue eyes. All five made comments and wisecracks as they dragged themselves fully aware.

The blue-haired man reminded the red-haired man that they were being watched. The redhead nodded and turned toward the crew of the Andromeda. He stepped forward, smoothing a hand over his red tunic in a gesture normal for someone used to negotiating.

The redhead wore a red tunic with a flame pattern on the front, orange pants, and knee-high black boots. The material seemed fitted to him specifically. He wore it like a second skin.

The blue-haired man wore a similar tunic and pants, but in blue and white with touches of red, and blue boots with white down the front. The green-gold-haired man wore clothing in shades of green and silver. The black-haired man wore black and white colors like a uniform. The fifth man, the one with red-brown hair, wore red and blue. Their garments fit perfectly, tailored to fit them and no one else. Their arm spikes seemed to be part of the garments.

Dylan opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say a word, Tyr jumped in.

"Who are you?" Tyr demanded. "What pride are you from?"

The redhead looked confused. "I don't understand."

"You're a Nietzschean," Harper told him, voice sharp. "Nietzscheans live in prides, and they're very proud of their lineage. Tyr here is from the Kodiak pride. What pride are you from?"

"I'm not from a pride," the redhead responded, frowning in confusion. "I don't know what a pride is. What is a 'Nietzschean'?"

Harper blinked. "A pride is a clan. And Tyr is a Nietzschean. You have the same features."

The redhead looked at Tyr, blinking at his bone spikes. Then he looked down at his own spikes. "Do Nietzscheans have metal blades?"

That took Harper by surprise. The redhead tapped his blades on the rail, and the sound was the ring of metal on metal. Tyr looked surprised.

"I'm Captain Dylan Hunt of the Andromeda Ascendant," Dylan announced, stepping forward. "This is Beka Valentine, my first officer, Seamus Harper, our engineer, Tyr Anasazi, my tactical officer, and Rommie, the ship's avatar."

The redhead tilted his head. "I am Rodimus Prime of Cybertron. This is my second-in-command, Ultra Magnus, my air commander, Springer, Jazz, communications officer, and Perceptor, science officer slash walking encyclopedia."

"Strange names," Beka commented.

Springer shrugged. Jazz only grinned. Perceptor muttered something in a strange language. Magnus shot him a warning look, and the irritated scientist subsided.

"Watch your language, Perceptor," Rodimus warned.

The scientist growled something under his breath. Rodimus shot him a glare that could melt titanum.

"I said, watch your language," Rodimus growled. "What part of that sentence did you not understand?"

Perceptor shut up.

"Tyr, take them to the holding deck," Dylan instructed. "Bring Rodimus to one of the interview rooms."

Tyr stepped forward. Rodimus protested as Tyr locked magnetic cuffs around his wrists. Magnus didn't say anything, but he didn't cooperate too much. Jazz cracked a few jokes about it. Perceptor frowned. Springer kept up a steady stream of complaints as Tyr led them out.

"Do you believe them?" Beka asked.

"They don't strike me as the type to tell lies," Dylan replied. "I'll find out more when I question Rodimus."

Dylan walked into the interview room. Rodimus, sitting in one of the chairs, eyed him. Those bright blue eyes seemed to bore holes straight through Dylan. It was obvious that Rodimus had honed that look for use on some of his subordinates.

"What do you want from me?" Rodimus asked, a note of ice in his voice.

"Some answers." Dylan sat down across from Rodimus.

It was soon obvious that Rodimus wasn't the easiest person to get answers from. If he didn't have an answer or didn't want to answer, he wouldn't. Tyr, standing behind him, couldn't get any answers from him. Three hours later, Dylan was ready to scream in frustration.

The door opened, and Trance poked her head in. "Dylan, you can stop bothering Rodimus now."

"Why?" Dylan rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

"I was talking to the bluenette..."

"The what?"

"Bluenette. The one with blue hair."

"Magnus."

"Yes. He proved far more willing to cooperate than his commander, if only to get Rodimus out of your hair before he lost his temper and did something he'd regret later. Magnus let me take a complete scan. You should come see the results."

Several minutes later Dylan was peering over Harper's shoulder at the monitor. The image was of Magnus, who sat on an examination table.

"He's a machine?" Rommie asked, looking startled.

"A highly sophisticated machine. A true robot, but with individual thoughts and emotions."

"His internals are far beyond anything I've ever seen," Harper admitted. "I hate to admit it, but not even I could build something like this."

"Modesty from you?" Beka asked, raising her eyebrows. "This has to be some kind of miracle."

"Ha ha, very funny, Beka," Harper muttered.

"A sentient machine," Dylan muttered, fascinated.

Trance nodded. "He told me about his homeworld. They come from a planet called Cybertron."

"I've never heard of that planet," Andromeda commented from the screen on the wall.

"That's because it doesn't exist in this universe," Magnus said calmly.

"Pardon?"

"I'll explain once you get those cuffs off of my mate."

Dylan removed the cuffs. Rodimus rubbed his wrists, moving to stand beside Magnus, who slipped an arm around Rodimus's waist. The two exchanged words in their own language. Dylan listened, interested.

Finally, both turned their attention back to Dylan. It was Rodimus who finally spoke.

"Have you ever encountered a dimensional breach before?"

"A what?"

Rodimus sighed. "You'd better let Perceptor out of his cell. He's the scientist. I just hope you can speak Perceptorese."

"That bad?"

"He once read us a four hundred word speech the boiled down to 'fix the communications array in case one of our bases is attacked.' That's how bad he is."

"Which one is Perceptor?"

"The one with the red-brown hair."

Soon after, the scientist was hovering over one of the monitors, going over the energy patterns Andromeda had detected before the breach had opened. Harper watched in amazement as Perceptor speed-read the screen, cross-referencing with a dozen of his own internal programs at once. Finally, the scientist looked up.

"It is definitely a dimensional breach, Rodimus," he reported.

"What is a dimensional breach?" Dylan asked.

"A hole in the fabric of reality that separates different universes. That barrier was ruptured on our side, when a laser blast from our shuttle collided with a Decepticon plasma blast. The resulting explosion tore a hole in the barrier between our two dimensions. Because breaches, like lightning, seek the shortest route, the hole opened here. Our two dimensions are very close."

"So this breach took you five from your own universe and dropped you here?"

"Affirmative."

"I'm guessing it's also responsible for our changes in appearance," Rodimus added, indicating himself, Magnus, and Perceptor.

"This isn't how you normally look?" Dylan stared at them.

"No. We normally look very different."

"Define different."

"For starters, in our real forms, none of us would fit in here. Or anywhere else on this ship. Our normal forms are between twenty and eighty feet high, and we weigh several tons each. Magnus is the tallest of us, mainly blue and white, with a red body. I'm about ten feet smaller, primarily eye-smarting red, yellow, and orange, with hints of silver and black lower legs. Next is Springer. He isn't much smaller than I am. His predominant color scheme is green, with touches of silver and a lighter yellow-green. Jazz and Perceptor are nearly the same height. Jazz is black and white, with an optic visor instead of two separate optics, like ours. Perceptor is red and blue, with a microscope barrel on his shoulder. It doubles as a powerful light cannon. Magnus transforms into a car carrier, I'm a light cargo transport, Springer is a triple changer..."

"A what?"

"Triple changer. He has three forms. Besides his robot mode, he has a ground vehicle mode and a helicopter mode. Jazz is a sports car, and Perceptor is a microscope."

"What do you mean by transform?" Harper asked.

Rodimus looked at him. "We can change forms. When I transform, I shift parts into and out of subspace, rearranging my physical body into another form. It only takes a few seconds. We can do it so slowly you can see every step in the process, or so fast one moment we're huge roots and the next we're vehicles. It depends on the situation."

Dylan leaned on a console. "If this isn't your real form, what happened?"

Rodimus frowned. "I'm not sure. I was hurtling down a writhing tunnel, being thrown about like a leaf in a tornado. I was suddenly shifting shape, my body becoming a shapeless mass of metal. Then the tunnel touched something, and I was shapeshifting again. That's the last thing I remember until I came around on the floor of Andromeda's bridge."

"The tunnel's edge touched Tyr," Dylan offered.

Rodimus looked Tyr up and down. "The tunnel touched him and used him as a template to transform us. No wonder you thought we were Nietzscheans. We look Nietzschean because the breach used Tyr as a model."

"So that explains it."

Perceptor continued to work on the console. Rommie leaned over to watch. Rodimus turned his bright blue eyes on Dylan.

"Now it's your turn to tell us about your universe."

Dylan took a seat and complied.

The full story took quite a while to tell. Beka, Tyr, and Harper added information wherever they could. The two Transformers listened.

After the Andromeda crew had told their story and the inevitable questions had been asked, the two Transformers took turns explaining the history of their world. The Andromeda crew listened in fascination as the two talked about the Quintessons, the rebellion, the Golden Age, the start of the civil wars, and the other numerous wars that had taken place on Cybertron. The fourth war, called the Great Cybertronian Civil War or the Great War, was the longest and most devastating. Cybertron had been drained of all its resources and left a nearly lifeless metal husk in space. In the telling the two revealed hints as to their true ages.

Of the two, Magnus was older. He'd served under Rodimus's predecessor, Optimus Prime, millions of years before Rodimus had ever been created. Rodimus, in his previous form of Hot Rod, had been created while Prime had been in stasis on Earth. He was between two and four million years old, considered a teenager by the standards of his race.

"Your kind live to be nine million?" Dylan gawked.

Rodimus chuckled. "No. We live to be older than that. Nine million was how old Optimus was when he was killed. One of my advisors, Kup, is more than twice as old. He complains about his age all the time, but he's still a skilled warrior. There may be bots who are even older in hiding. There's at least one that I know of. Omega Supreme, a Guardian robot, was created during the late years of the rebellion against the Quintessons, and he's still alive."

Dylan looked stunned. Harper's jaw hung open. Tyr was trying not to stare and failing. Trance was frozen in place, staring at them. Beka was holding onto the wall so she wouldn't fall over. Andromeda was speechless.

Magnus whispered something in Rodimus's ear. Rodimus chuckled. Then he picked up the tale where he'd left off, telling about the various planets he'd been on, how he'd become leader of his people, and the events leading up to the dimensional breach.

"So what is Perceptor doing?" Harper asked.

Perceptor looked up from the monitor. "I am attempting to locate the breach and find a way to get us home."

Before anyone could say another word, Andromeda's sirens began to scream. Dylan shot to his feet.

"Andromeda! Report!"

The image of the AI appeared on a screen. "Slipstream events detected."

"Who could be slipstreaming through here?" Dylan wondered.

"Magog swarm ships detected."

"Battle stations!"

"Magog?" Rodimus repeated. He thought that over. His memory offered up the data on the Magog that Dylan had told them. His eyes darkened with anger.

Dylan glanced at him curiously.

"We Autobots protect those in danger," Magnus explained, anger in his own voice. "These Magog fall into the 'dangerous' category."

"Ah."

The Autobots, including Perceptor, Jazz, and Springer, followed Dylan to the command deck. They watched as Andromeda began to fire at the tiny ships. Just as one group was destroyed, another swarm descended on them, this time from a different direction.

"Where are they coming from?" Dylan growled.

Finally, there were no more swarm ships incoming. Dylan took a deep breath. Rodimus relaxed slightly.

"Let's get out of here," Dylan decided.

"The breach has closed," Perceptor reported. "We will have to find or create another opening if we are to get home. I have already begun simulations on what we would need to open another breach using the materials available."

Rodimus nodded to him. "Continue."

Perceptor nodded and returned to his work.

Andromeda went to slipstream. Rodimus watched the slipstream tunnel flash past. Dylan glanced at him.

"Do you have this ability?" he asked.

"No." Rodimus shook his head. "We have warp gates and FTL drive systems, but not slipstream."

"FTL?"

"Faster than light. Warp."

Dylan turned his gaze back to the main screen. They were coming out of slipstream.

They were immediately under attack.

"They were waiting for us!" Beka yelled.

Swarm ships began punching through the hull. Andromeda picked them off, but there were too many. Magog had gotten into the ship.

The fighting raged through the ship's corridors. Even Tyr was startled by the fierce combat of the Autobots. They'd discovered that they still had access to their subspace pockets and their weapons. They carried high-powered laser weapons. In close quarters they fought hand-to-hand. Their metal skin kept the claws of the Magog from doing anything but scratching them. The claws couldn't penetrate their skin. Their clothing was ripped to shreds, but they were undamaged. The corridors were littered with Magog that had ended up at the business ends of their weapons, or that had gotten close enough to be reached with a swipe of a bladed arm. Dylan even came across one that had had its head twisted off like a bottlecap.

With the five Autobots helping, the fighting went faster than it normally did. The Magog were forced to retreat.

On the command deck, the Andromeda crew met up with the Autobots again. All five were covered in Magog blood. Their clothing was in tatters. Scratches marked their metal skin. Rodimus carried a nasty-looking rifle. Perceptor had found his light cannon, and had it propped against his shoulder. Springer and Jazz carried rifles. Magnus had a plasma rifle cradled in his arms.

Tyr gave the five a look of respect as he returned to his station. Rodimus nodded to him. Harper sauntered over.

"You five are awesome!"

"We've had practice," Magnus responded. "This isn't the first time we've had to repel unwelcome guests."

Perceptor subspaced his light cannon and returned to the console he'd been using. He looked over the data for a few moments, then looked up. "I believe I've found a way to get us home."

Rodimus walked over to him. "How?"

Perceptor ran the simulation. Harper leaned over his shoulder and grunted.

"That should be fairly easy to pull off, once the missile is prepared." He looked at Dylan. "This should work."

"Do it."

Harper and Perceptor began building the explosive. The other three Autobots helped out whenever they could. Magnus proved to have some experience with explosives.

"How do you know so much about explosives?" Harper asked.

"In my real form I have missile launchers on my shoulders. I had to learn how to use them and what kind of missiles they took. With them I can flatten a target thirty miles away."

"Oh. Cool."

It took nearly a week for the missile to be built and the plans finalized. The Andromeda returned to the site of the original breach. The five were given a shuttle to get them through safely.

"Thank you for all your help." Rodimus clasped Dylan's hand firmly.

"You're welcome. And we have to thank you for helping us as well," Dylan answered.

Rodimus grinned. "If you ever find yourselves in our dimension, you'll know who to ask for." He clapped Dylan on the shoulder and joined his comrades on the shuttle. The two exchanged one last wave as the shuttle launched.

"The shuttle is in position," Andromeda reported.

"Launch missile," Dylan ordered.

"Missile away."

The missile flew straight toward the coordinates of the original breach and exploded. The writhing tear in space opened, twisting and coiling like a demented snake. The shuttle entered the breach and vanished. The tear closed behind them.

Rodimus felt his body changing. The shuttle disappeared from around his expanding form. He could sense his comrades also changing shape. Then the tunnel spit them out.

"Kup!" Blaster yelled. "Major power surge detected! I'm reading five small objects in space nearby! It's them!"

"Let's go pick them up!" Kup responded.

The rescue shuttle edged toward the five. Tractor beams drew them into the airlock. Several other Autobots were waiting for them.

"What happened, lad?" Kup asked.

Rodimus grinned. "It's a long story."

Kup frowned at him while First Aid shooed them to the shuttle's repair area for a checkup. Then he followed, intent on getting that long story from him, even if it took hours or days. He wanted to know what had happened to the five. So did everyone else, but he was the security chief, so he had to know what was going on. He prepared to drag the story out of the young Prime or out of one of the other our, no matter what it took.

Dylan Hunt stood on the command deck of the Andromeda Ascendant, staring out to where the last remnants of the explosion were slowly fading and dying. Harper stood nearby, also watching. Dylan could sense that Tyr's eyes were also on the screen.

Beka stepped up beside him. "Do you think they made it?"

"I hope so."

"Do you think they'll remember us?"

"This is not something they'd be willing to forget. They'll remember."

"I suppose we'll never see them again."

Dylan looked at her. "I don't know. Something tells me that we'll meet up with them again, someday."

The woman eyed him, then looked out to where the dimensional breach had been. There was no indication that it had ever been there. Not even a single power spike gave away its existence. She tried to imagine the world the two Autobots had described, a war-torn world drifting through space, not bound to any sun but wandering between them.

"We will see them again," Dylan repeated softly, and knew it to be true. They would one day encounter the Autobots again. Only time would tell when.

Fin.