---- Orbit of Cybertron----
The Nemesis emerged from the void of space, sliding into the outer orbit of Cybertron, locking into one of the colossal orbital docks that hung like titanic bones over the planet below. All around it, other ships—some battered, others gleaming—floated in disciplined formation, tethered to the sprawling station that served as the gatekeeper of Cybertron's skies.
The homecoming was silent, bittersweet.
The crew of the *Nemesis* moved with practiced precision, unloading supplies, machinery, and passengers. The station's docking clamps hissed as they disengaged, and grav-trains began their descent to the surface below. Among those who stayed behind were Yuri, Alexis, Lux, and a few crew members making final checks before departure.
Standing by the *Nemesis*'s hull, Yuri conducted final checks with Alexis. Calm, efficient—rituals carved into their muscle memory. He turned back, gazing at the layered clouds of Cybertron. He thought of Boros—the Black Bull—the man who had once pledged unwavering loyalty to him, leading his own formidable crew under Yuri's banner. Before departing Cybertron, Yuri had entrusted Boros to act as his stand-in, safeguarding their faction's influence and holding the line in his absence.
Nearby, the towering Lux carried a reinforced cage, within which slept the boy—Orion—muzzled by a gentle sedative. Lux grumbled as he placed the cage down.
Inside, Lux stomped down the gangplank, carrying the large reinforced cage slung across his cybernetic shoulder. Within lay Orion, unconscious from a light sedative.
"Damn kid's heavier than he looks," Lux grumbled. "I swear, if he grows any more, I'm gonna need a mech-suit."
He dropped the cage with a metallic thud. "Still, good to be home." He stretched his arms, servos hissing.
Yuri chuckled. "Yeah... it's been a long road."
Orion stirred faintly, unaware of the weight of the moment.
Yuri tapped a comm bead. "Boros, bring the ship. Pick us up from the station."
The response was prompt. The man's voice—steady, respectful—answered, "On the way, Captain."
They moved into the waiting chamber designed for grav-ship boarding, a large room with a docking seal at the far end. As they settled in, the distant sound of thrusters echoed closer.
Two grav-ships approached and docked with a heavy clang that reverberated through the chamber.
The noise stirred Orion fully. Groggy, he blinked through the cage bars, still drowsy but now alert, blinking slowly as voices echoed.
The first ship's ramp lowered. Out came Yuri's trusted comrades—warriors he had left behind to maintain his power base. They exchanged greetings, warm but sharp-edged with exhaustion and long absence.
One stepped forward first, his armored boots hitting the ramp with a metallic thud. "Still alive, old wolf?" he asked, voice gravelly with age or too many battlefield roars.
Yuri cracked a grin. "Barely. Figured I'd come back before you started carving my name into a tombstone."
Another comrade laughed as he approached, clasping Yuri's arm. "We held the line, just like you said. But you were gone long enough to make saints of us all."
Yuri's grip tightened. "Saints don't survive in our line of work. You did better—you endured and held on. That means more."
The laughter faded into something quieter. Respect lingered in the silence, forged by distance, blood, and duty.
As they spoke, Alexis's brow furrowed. "Where's Boros?"
The men glanced at each other. "On the other ship, by your orders."
Alexis narrowed his eyes. "That so?"
Without waiting, he pushed past them and stormed up the ramp of the second ship. Yuri followed, confusion twisting into instinctive caution—
And then it happened.
A deafening boom tore through the chamber. Fire and shrapnel engulfed the room as the grav-ship erupted into a hellstorm of metal and flame.
The force hurled Yuri and the others across the chamber. Lux and the cage holding Orion slammed into the far wall. Alarms blared, lights flickered, and smoke poured in.
Alexis, the men aboard—vaporized.
**Ringing.** Deafening, bone-shaking ringing.
Yuri's vision blurred. He tried to rise, hand gripping his side where metal had torn through his coat. Around him, bodies lay scattered. Some moved weakly and tried to rise. Most did not.
Then came the shots.
Precise and deadly. Red lances of light from las-rifles cut through the haze, dropping the wounded where they lay. A group of figures emerged through the smoke, armored and precise.
At their head, a tall man in black-red armor.
Yuri's heart sank.
"Remember me, Captain Yuri?" the figure said with a cruel smirk.
Yuri's jaw clenched as recognition dawned. "...Boros, you little shit," he hissed.
Boros knelt beside him, squatting casually as though visiting an old friend. "You were always the clever one," he said mockingly.
"Why?" Yuri choked out, blood bubbling at the edge of his lips.
Boros met his gaze, expression mocking.
"You left, Yuri. You left *us* to play servant to the Duke. You think the other factions were gonna let that slide? You had too much power, too much attention. Even the nobles who used to support us left because of your actions—stepping over the boundaries."
He leaned closer, eyes cold. "Our faction was crumbling. Influence, power—slipping through our fingers. The nobles... they offered me a deal. Help them remove you, and I'd be allowed a seat at their table. New allies. New friends."
"You sold us out."
"No," Boros said calmly. "I made a strategic decision. You were the sacrifice."
Suddenly, rubble exploded to the side as a bloodied Lux—bleeding and half-broken, but alive—roared to life, charging Boros with fury.
Three of Boros' men tried to intercept—Lux charged at them like a freight train, smashing through them. He crushed them with his augmented fists, breaking bone and steel alike.
"Kill him!" Boros shouted.
Five elite soldiers surrounded Lux. The fight was brutal. Even wounded, Lux tore through them with berserker rage, his fists shattering armor.
Lux fought like a god of steel, but the damage was too much.
Then—from the ceiling—a silent blur dropped.
A cloaked assassin.
A blade slid into Lux's neck. The giant froze, eyes wide, then staggered.
"**COWARDS!**" he bellowed, blood gurgling at his throat as the last of Boros' men opened fire.
Lux fell beside Orion's shattered cage, blood pooling beneath him.
Yuri stared at his fallen friend in horror, his body too broken to move. Eyes burning, he looked at the traitor.
"You'll pay for—"
A las-shot cut him short.
Yuri slumped, lifeless.
Boros turned to his men. "Finish it. Clean it up. The High Guard will be here soon."
The assassin stepped beside him. "What of the child?"
Orion lay near the debris, alive but unconscious, the cage splintered beside him.
Boros looked down at the boy, silent for a moment. Then he said darkly, "I'm no monster. Toss him into the slums. Let Cybertron decide his fate. If he survives—he survives. Cybertron eats the weak and uses the strong. All have a purpose here. Either way, he's no threat."
The assassin nodded.
With that, Boros and his men vanished into the grav-ship.
The assassin picked up the unconscious boy and carried him to the ship. When it reached a low distance from the ground, she leapt from its ramp onto the edge of a decaying structure overlooking a junkyard.
Without ceremony, she dropped the child into the heap below.
Orion's small form landed with a thud among the rusted remains of forgotten machines. He remained—unmoving, but breathing.
Alone. Unwanted. But not yet broken.
Cybertron never wasted potential.
And neither would he.
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I would appreciate response and comments from you all and wish that you enjoyed the chapter and sry for taking too long. I hope you will continue to read this story and I promise that it will be worth it and this will be a long story atleast having 28 to 39 chapters atleast and even more if I get more ideas and this is a regression fic but the details will be given as the story progresses. Thank you for reading