A few weeks later, Starscream returned to the aerial command platform overlooking Kaon’s flight corridors.
The sky outside the tower was already alive with movement. Seeker wings crossed the horizon in disciplined formations, patrol rotations flowing across the airspace exactly where Starscream had placed them. The roster of assignments floated across the command console in front of him: every wing, every trine, every patrol corridor already positioned.
The ground forces had moved first. Columns from Polyhex had begun advancing toward Praxis cycles earlier. It simply took them longer to reach the battlefield than it did the aerial units.
Starscream had accounted for that.
Several reconnaissance wings were already circling the industrial basin surrounding Praxis, far above the smelting towers where they could observe the battlefield without revealing their numbers. Optics in the sky. Information before force.
Thundercracker stepped beside him, watching the tactical display. “You’re ready.”
“All wings are in position,” Starscream said.
Skywarp leaned against the railing nearby. “So now we wait.”
Exactly.
Starscream was waiting for only one thing.
Megatron’s order.
The command channel opened across the tower, and Megatron’s voice carried through the network. “Begin the assault.”
Starscream did not hesitate. “Execute.”
Across the sky, the waiting wings shifted immediately, formations breaking into strike patterns as they angled toward the industrial basin of Praxis. Starscream watched the reconnaissance feeds as the battle began to unfold: ground forces pushing through the outer industrial districts, Devastator advancing at the head of the main assault corridor, exactly where Megatron had placed him.
For a few moments, the advance appeared to hold.
Then the tactical display shifted.
Autobot signals began appearing along the eastern corridor of the basin.
Starscream’s red optics narrowed.
There.
The exact route he had warned about.
More signals followed. Heavy units. Entrenched positions inside the refinery structures.
They had been waiting.
Thundercracker saw it at the same moment. “That’s the corridor you called.”
Starscream did not answer. The industrial towers made maneuvering nearly impossible for the aerial wings. Smoke and refinery exhaust were already filling the basin as the fighting intensified below. Autobot forces surged through the narrow corridor, exactly where Devastator had been positioned to advance.
Skywarp pushed away from the railing. “That’s not good.”
Starscream watched the tactical display tightens as Autobot signals surged through the refinery corridor. Devastator had slowed. Not stopped, but slowed. The basin was filling with smoke from ruptured fuel lines and shattered stacks. The industrial towers that surrounded Praxis were turning the battlefield into a maze of blind angles and narrow approaches.
Exactly what Starscream had warned about.
“They were waiting,” Thundercracker said.
“Yes.”
Skywarp stepped away from the railing and looked down at the projection. “Devastator’s pinned.”
Starscream’s optics moved across the aerial formations still circling above the basin. The wings were holding altitude, waiting for orders.
He turned to his trine. “We need to be out there.”
Thundercracker looked at him. “You’re going in yourself.”
Starscream was already moving toward the flight platform. “We have the best chance of getting through that corridor.”
Skywarp grinned faintly. “Well, that sounds fun.”
Starscream did not slow. He transformed as he cleared the platform, engines igniting as his tetrajet frame shot into the sky. Thundercracker and Skywarp followed a heartbeat later. Above Praxis, the waiting wings opened their formation as Starscream’s trine cut through them.
Starscream’s voice carried across the command channel. “All wings—strike pattern delta.”
The formations shifted instantly.
Starscream angled his jet downward toward the refinery basin where the fighting had intensified. Smoke rolled upward from the industrial stacks. Devastator was somewhere inside it.
Starscream pushed his engines harder.
They were going in.
The sky above Praxis quickly disappeared behind them as Starscream’s trine dove into the smoke-choked industrial maze. The towers rose like jagged spears from the ground: refinery stacks, processing columns, heat exchangers venting thick plumes that turned the entire basin into a shifting gray wall. Visual sensors were nearly useless.
Starscream switched channels immediately. “Thundercracker. Skywarp.”
“Go,” Thundercracker answered.
“Use sonar and radar only.”
Skywarp gave a short laugh over the comm. “You mean don’t fly blind into a smokestack?”
“I don’t want anyone hitting one.”
Thundercracker’s scanners shifted modes. “Radar sweep active.”
Starscream angled through the first gap between towers, the structures rushing past on either side of his wings. The corridor was tight. Too tight for large formations. That was why he had warned Megatron.
But now they were here.
Starscream pulled up the battlefield overlay from his radar returns. Devastator’s signal flickered ahead of them, partially obscured by refinery structures and Autobot ground units surrounding the corridor.
“There,” he said, dropping lower. “Strike the corridor edges. Clear space for Devastator.”
The trine split instinctively.
Thundercracker rolled left, unleashing a barrage of fire into Autobot positions along a collapsed conveyor line. Skywarp vanished for a split second and reappeared above a defensive turret, tearing it apart before disappearing again. Starscream cut straight down the corridor, weapons raking across the barricades pinning Devastator in place.
The massive green and purple form moved again.
Devastator’s arm smashed through a processing tower that had been used to block the corridor.
Thundercracker saw the movement. “That did it.”
Starscream kept firing. “Keep pressure on them!”
Autobot forces began pulling back from the corridor under the aerial assault. Devastator took another step forward. Then another.
The choke point broke.
Skywarp reappeared beside Starscream’s flight path. “Dev’s loose.”
“Good.”
Then the radar sweep updated.
New signals appeared along the eastern approaches to the basin. Heavy units. More than before.
Thundercracker saw it too. “That’s not a retreat.”
Starscream already knew what it meant.
Sentinel.
Autobot reinforcements were moving toward the battlefield.
And this time, they were not alone.
Starscream’s radar display filled with new signals moving in from the eastern edge of the basin. Heavy units. Armored columns. At their center was Sentinel Prime.
“That’s the reinforcement,” Thundercracker said.
Skywarp hovered just above the refinery towers. “That’s a lot of Autobots.”
Devastator pushed forward another step through the corridor, tearing aside another section of refinery infrastructure as he advanced. The giant machine was free now, but the narrow basin still constrained movement on every side.
Starscream was already calculating the airspace. The corridor was choking with towers, smoke, and falling debris. Even his trine had to weave through gaps to stay clear of the stacks.
More wings would make the sky dangerous.
Then Megatron’s voice cut across the command channel. “Air Commander.”
Starscream answered immediately. “Go.”
“Commit additional wings.”
Starscream’s optics flicked across the corridor again. Too narrow. Too cluttered. Too many structures.
He answered anyway. “Understood.”
But he did not call the full aerial force.
Starscream switched channels. “Dirge. Ramjet. Thrust.”
Three acknowledgements answered instantly.
The Coneheads had become the second dependable team behind Starscream’s own trine: disciplined, aggressive, and better suited than most to confined maneuvers under pressure. They were already flying patrol near the basin.
“Enter the corridor and support the trine,” Starscream ordered.
Thundercracker glanced toward him. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Then Starscream reopened the command channel. “Megatron.”
A pause.
“This corridor is too small for full wings.” Starscream angled his jet between two refinery stacks as another Autobot unit tried to push into the corridor. “If we flood the basin with aircraft, we will lose more Seekers to the terrain than the enemy.”
The radar display updated again.
Dirge. Ramjet. Thrust.
Three new signals diving toward the basin.
“I’ve committed the pilots best suited for confined airspace,” Starscream said.
Devastator roared somewhere below them as another Autobot line broke under the pressure.
But Sentinel’s reinforcements were still coming.
Devastator advanced through the smoke, smashing through refinery structures as he forced the corridor wider with every step. The pressure from the air had broken the first defensive line exactly as Starscream intended.
Then Sentinel moved.
His unit pushed through the eastern corridor with a wedge of heavy Autobots behind him.
Thundercracker saw it first. “Contact—Sentinel.”
Starscream’s sensors locked onto the signal. There was no hesitation in the Autobot advance now. Sentinel moved straight toward the massive silhouette of Devastator pushing through the smoke.
Skywarp muttered over the comm, “This should be interesting.”
Devastator raised one arm and smashed aside another processing tower blocking the corridor.
Then Sentinel fired.
The blast that struck Devastator was not like the weapons they had seen before. It was not explosive. It was a surge, an intense burst of energy that rippled across the giant machine’s frame.
Starscream’s scanners spiked with interference.
He had seen the effect before in reports, and he knew Sentinel had used it once during his first encounter with Devastator. This was no accident. Sentinel had brought the countermeasure because he already knew it worked.
Devastator froze.
“What was—” Thundercracker started.
Then the giant staggered.
The gestalt broke apart.
The six Constructicons separated violently, the connection between them shattered under the energy pulse. Scrapper hit the ground first. Hook and Long Haul tumbled across the refinery floor. Bonecrusher and Scavenger scrambled away from the impact. Mixmaster rolled across a section of piping before transforming and retreating behind a tower.
Skywarp’s voice cut across the comm. “What just happened?”
“Disruption pulse,” Starscream said, sensors struggling to clear the interference. “Sentinel knew how to break the link.”
Below them, the Constructicons were already pulling back, scattering through the refinery structures as Sentinel’s forces surged forward. Devastator had been the anchor of the assault. Without him, the pressure in the corridor collapsed.
Sentinel advanced through the smoke, his forces pushing into the gap the fallen gestalt had left behind.
The radar picture shifted again. Devastator’s signal was gone. In its place were six separate contacts pulling back through the refinery structures as the Constructicons scattered away from Sentinel’s advance.
Sentinel did not slow.
Autobot forces poured through the corridor behind him, their formations tight and disciplined as they pushed through the smoke-filled basin. Starscream circled once above the refinery towers, trying to find a workable attack angle.
There was not one.
The corridor was too tight. Too cluttered. Too dangerous for aerial formations. Even his trine had barely managed to maneuver through the stacks.
“They’re bringing in police squads,” Thundercracker said.
Starscream saw them. Heavy armored units moved in behind Sentinel, designed for urban suppression rather than open battlefields. They filled the corridor completely.
Skywarp muttered, “That’s a wall.”
Starscream opened the command channel. “Megatron.”
Megatron answered immediately. “Press the advantage.”
Starscream stared down at the tactical display.
Devastator broken.
Constructicons scattered.
Sentinel’s forces pushing forward.
There was no advantage left.
Starscream answered evenly. “There is no advantage to press.”
The channel fell silent for a fraction of a second.
Megatron’s voice hardened. “Commit more wings.”
Starscream’s gaze remained fixed on the corridor below. “If I send more Seekers into that basin, they will collide with the refinery stacks before they ever reach the Autobots.”
Smoke rolled upward from ruptured processing towers, turning the entire basin into a maze of blind corners and rising heat columns.
“The sky does not belong to us in that space,” Starscream said.
Below them, Sentinel’s forces continued pushing forward through the corridor where Devastator had been forced apart.
Starscream watched the advance in silence.
The battle for Praxis was already decided.
And then Megatron spoke again.
“Withdraw.”
One word.
Hard. Controlled. Final.
Starscream did not hesitate. “All wings, pull back. Conehead unit, disengage and climb. Trine, cover the withdrawal.”
Dirge answered first. “Understood.”
Ramjet followed. “Pulling up.”
Thrust’s signal flashed beside them. “Clear.”
Thundercracker broke right, drawing fire from the nearest Autobot battery while Skywarp flashed through the corridor long enough to scatter a pursuing unit before vanishing again. Starscream stayed low until the last of the Coneheads cleared the refinery stacks, then angled upward sharply through the smoke.
Below, Sentinel’s forces reclaimed the corridor.
Praxis would not fall today.
Starscream climbed above the basin and looked down through the burning haze. Megatron had seen it too. That mattered. He had pressed until the battlefield proved there was nothing left to gain, then withdrew before stubbornness turned setback into disaster.
It was not victory.
But it was command.
Starscream opened the return channel to Megatron. “Wings withdrawing.”
Megatron’s reply came after a brief pause. “Regroup at Polyhex.”
“Understood.”
Starscream banked away from Praxis, the trine and Coneheads falling into formation behind him.
Behind them, the smoke swallowed the basin.
The battle was lost.
But the Seekers were not.