Read Transformers: Retribution for Free Online Page A

change to its spaceship form—and failed, falling flat onto its face, oil leaking from its perforated innards.
    The computerized voice of Teletraan-1 chimed across the battlefield.
    “Ending simulation.”
    Instantly, the smoke and fire disappeared to reveal the spartan walls of the Ark’s training room. Optimus’s mask slid back; he turned to see Jazz, Ratchet, Perceptor, and Bulkhead applauding.
    “See? Less than three minutes against a level ten battle-droid,” said Ratchet. “That’s almost a record.”
    “Yeah, just don’t forget who set it,” Jazz said.
    Jazz served as Autobot deputy commander and head of special operations. In a less official capacity, he was Optimus’s closest friend. Ratchet was perhaps the finestmedical officer Optimus had ever worked with, Perceptor was chief science officer, and the hulking Bulkhead was second to none with machinery. Optimus was grateful to have such comrades in arms; just seeing them together gave him a renewed sense of hope for their mission.
    “Looks like all that practice is paying off,” Ratchet said.
    “I couldn’t have done it better myself,” Jazz added, clasping Optimus on the shoulder. “You’ve really come a long way.”
    “You didn’t come down here to watch my workout,” said Optimus. “What’s the situation?”
    Perceptor stepped forward.
    “Remember when you asked me and Bulkhead to fine-tune the long-range sensors for Energon detection?” Not long after the battle at Junkion, Optimus had decided that they needed to investigate every possible angle to find the AllSpark, so he’d asked Perceptor to make a number of modifications to the ship’s sensor package, dramatically increasing its sensitivity to Cybertronian artifacts. To the Autobots that had seemed like a sensible precaution. But there was more to it than that.
    Optimus had a secret. He had no intention of telling anyone lest he fatally affect morale. But the truth of the matter was that the unthinkable was happening.
    He was having grave doubts regarding the Matrix of Leadership.
    Secure within his chest, it had been so reliable for so long, yet ever since they’d arrived in the Orion Arm, the Matrix had been acting more than a little peculiar. For one thing, it kept showing him blurry scenes from Cybertron’s distant past that made no sense, though they filled him with foreboding: Cybertronians shuffling forward, their heads bowed, as though they were being driven somewhere.
    As though they were slaves …
    Yet disquieting as that was, it was the Matrix’s present capabilities that were the real problem. As they moved across the galaxy, Optimus would have expected the AllSpark’s signal to be growing stronger; instead, it had faded to the point of nonexistence. Had the Matrix somehow led him astray? Was it possible that it was no longer working? The question plagued Optimus night and day; the absence of a reliable guide made him feel very much alone. He wished he could talk with Alpha Trion, for the scribe’s knowledge would have been most welcome. But Optimus knew deep down that his mentor had his own road to travel, that he would have to discern the secrets of the Matrix for himself.
    And lately that had been getting ever harder.
    “We’ve found something,” said Bulkhead.
    T O SAY S IDESWIPE RELISHED HIS DUTIES AS THE PILOT of the Ark would be to indulge in considerable understatement. Never before had he felt so needed. His duties on the Ark humbled him given how critical the ship was to the continued survival of the Autobots. If they weren’t able to find the AllSpark, Cybertron was as good as gone, and the Ark was the only way the Autobots were going to pull it off. Some had said it was the most powerful ship ever built in the history of Cybertron. Unlike so many of the planet’s machines, it had no alternative form—just the single function of transporting over three hundred Autobots and destroying any enemy ship that stood in its way. The Ark’s four