The Honor in Duty
Chapter 1
Hunter of Peace
Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers, or the Transformers:Prime television series.
Hello beloved readers and welcome back to the Series of Duties (and yes, that name is utterly absurd, so most definitely let me know if you think of anything better)! As promised, here is the first chaper of the Honor in Duty, sequel to Duty and Deceit, about a month after the finale. I sincerely hope to see all my readers from Duty and Deceit return! As always, read, enjoy, fav/follow, and most importantly, review!
Kolkular: Land of the Cold.
Her first step into Kolkular burned like molten lava. Partially because she had no desire to be in the Decepticon citadel. Mainly, because she had stepped in a puddle of molten lava.
Misnomer? It really depended on one's viewpoint.
The artificially raised citadel was surrounded by a vast, steaming moat of magma, and the whole sector was shrouded in a heavy, black smoke that choked her vents and instantly coated her frame and workings in gritty ash. The acrid scent of eons of accumulated sulphur burned her olfactory sensors, making her nose worse than useless.
Not exactly what comes to mind, when one thinks of the Land of the Cold.
"Watch your step." Her Kolkularan escort sneered, roughly pulling her up from the lava by her finial, sending a stab of pain shooting into her helm from the delicate array. "Can't have a pretty frame like yours turned to slag on the first cycle, now can we?"
She tore herself away from the leering mech, sneering back at him behind her mask. Like most bots, he towered a good helm and shoulders over her.
"The designer of this city was incompetent." She replied, her gold optics roaming over the collosal structure critically, making sure she sounded utterly unimpressed. "The Lord Protector rules his people from atop a giant purple mushroom ringed by fire."
"On second thought, maybe you'd look better after a quick dip in the slag."
No, Kolkular was not a physically cold place. In fact, it was anything but. The people, however, were an entirely different matter. Though she'd been told that she wasn't much better these days.
It had been a quartex since Skyquake left, but it felt like vorns. The joy and trust that she'd felt in the five vorns she'd known him seemed like a lifetime ago. She hadn't felt fresh air on her face since he left and would not until he returned. She took no free time any more, and she refused to even pause from her work long enough to refuel.
If she had been considered a hard worker before, she was now tireless. She worked double and triple shifts, and she basically ran her whole department single-handedly. Which was why she was now here. In Kolkular: Land of the Cold.
Secondary Head of the Communications and Intelligence Division of the Decepticon Army.
That was the grand title she'd been given when she came here. Honestly, she had expected her duties to increase, but apparently she was already basically filling the position prior to the promotion. That was, after all, the reason she had accepted the promotion. She wanted more to do. She needed more work, more missions, more responsibilities... Just more. The more she worked, the less she thought and the less she thought, the more she worked.
It kept her sane.
The femme shook her helm roughly and ordered a team of apprentice decoders to be quiet and continue in their duties. She then proceeded to follow her own orders, tearing her mind away from pointless contemplations.
She had work to do.
Her optics came online and opened slowly, then her processors followed and the tiny femme bolted upright, wincing as her stiff, aching frame tried to fight the action.
She had work to do.
Hadn't she set an internal alarm? It was her patrol this morning, Arcee would be furious. Skyquake! She needed to bring him and Cliff their Energon-
"Rise and shine, Flip-Sides." A voice drawled from behind her. She straightened, flaring her armor and flicking a finial.
Knockout. The Nemesis. Unicron. Orion Pax.
Everything flooded into her awareness and Terabyte suddenly felt more exhausted than she ever had before. Her helm felt like it had just fought an war within itself. And lost.
"My designation is Lieutenant Commander Terabyte and you will address me as such." She replied coolly, glancing down briefly at her frame. Wires and tubes streamed from all over her chassis, tying her to several monitoring devices, as well as a life-En filtration device. Her armor had been almost entirely replaced with the dull gray of medical patching, and her weapons were all confiscated. "Where is Orion Pax? Is he well?"
The vain medic made a face, but said nothing as familiar, yet wrong, pede-falls approached her.
Orion put a gentle hand on her shoulder, replying, "I am well, thanks to Megatronus and yourself. How are you feeling, ma'am?"
She repressed a heavy sigh. Her memories were no trick. Optimus Prime, as far as this mech in his frame was concerned, did not exist. "Please, Terabyte is fine. As to how I feel, I believe I shall live."
He couldn't see the small smile she gave behind her mask, but he smiled. He was so much the same as before, yet at the same time so different. His voice was softer, younger; inquisitive, rather than commanding. Of course, she had heard the rumors and read the files that told of how he had once been an archivist in the Great Hall of Records, but until now...
She wasn't certain exactly what she had been expecting when she thought of Orion Pax, but whatever it was, it was not this. This mech was so... normal. So completely un-Primely.
"That's good to hear... Terabyte." The red and blue mech laughed warmly, throwing her off again. Somehow noticing her odd expression, in spite of her mask, Pax quirked an optic ridge upwards, still smiling, "Is something the matter?"
Terabyte blinked, shaking her helm slightly, "No... It's just that I had never heard you laugh before..."
The little femme decided to leave off the fact that she thought it was something the Prime ought to do more often. Tearing off the wires attached to the beeping monitors and turning to Knockout before the amnesiac mech could inquire further, she forced her usual air of formality back into action, "Medic, how long has it been since our arrival?"
"Two orns." Pax supplied, concern showing clear on his expressive face. It was unnerving to see such vivid expressions on his normally stoic face. "You were very badly damaged, and poisoned with some form of-"
Knockout set down the buffer he was currently using on his already pristine armor, and flashed a fake and faintly threatening grin her way. "Orion, I do believe Lord Megatronus wished to see you? Let him know that our patient will be following you shortly."
Her spark churned as she watched the ex-Prime leave, her expression showing none of the consternation that washed over her when her optics locked onto the Decepticon insignia shining on his shoulders. What had Unicron done to him?
As soon as the archivist was gone, the red medic sneered at her, "So, traitor, come running back to Mother Nemesis now have we? Did you decide the Autobots were too good for you? Or did you learn what I knew all along: that they'll never accept our kind."
On a whim, Terabyte lied with all the skill of Soundwave's right hand bot, her finial flicking only faintly as most of her words were selectively true, "You are a medic: you do not understand CI matters. I needed to put up a more convincing act. My cover was under suspicion; I improvised. Deceit is my specialty, Knockout. If you thought me loyal, then I should have been counted a failure."
When the mech had no response to that, the small femme inclined her helm to him and made her exit, vorns of practice hiding the ache of her frame. Two orns. The Autobots would be in turmoil, thinking that she had betrayed them and somehow convinced the Prime to do the same. They had no idea what had actually happened.
Though for that matter, did she?
As she travelled through the familiar, dim corridors of the Nemesis, Vehicons cringed away from her in fear from when Megatron had taken control of her. Others waited until they thought she wouldn't notice, then sneered at her, making insulting remarks about her loyalty.
Optimus had released the power of the Matrix into Unicron's spark, and the Matrix had somehow destroyed the Chaos-bringer's spark. The scientific explanation for it eluded her for the time being, yet she knew that there was one, though that was a debate for a later date.
The Matrix had not left the Prime's spark. The two were intertwined in such a manner that the only way to remove the Matrix would be by the Prime dying, or by him removing it of his own free will, and then dying. His spark would not be able to continue without the Matrix. Once a Prime, always a Prime.
Til all are one.
Hypothetically speaking, when the power of the Matrix was released, it would take the collective knowledge of the Primes with it. All of the Primes, including Optimus. Meaning, any memories and personality developments that occured after Orion Pax became Optimus Prime would hypothetically have departed with the rest of the knowledge of the Primes.
In all hopes, the Matrix would not be permanently depleted, simply disoriented. If that was the case, it would take it several quartex to gather itself to its former glory unaided. But Earth could not afford for the Autobots' Prime to be out of commission for several quartex. That was what she would be here for: to aid Orion Pax in rediscovering what it was to be a Prime.
How she would manage that in the center of the Nemesis, with slave programming forced into her core being, as a Decepticon defector who still had everything to learn about being an Autobot...
The two-wheeler stepped into the throne room and bowed stiffly to Megatron, holding her armor flared out, her expression and tone carefully blank. "My Lord Protector. Lieutenant Commander Terabyte, reporting for duty as requested."
She hardly flinched as she suddenly felt a sharp prick against her neck, remaining perfectly still as a purple and gold arachnoid femme crawled over her to stand in front of her. The other femme leaned in uncomfortably close, her purple lips less than an inch from Terabyte's black finial.
"The little traitor's come home." The femme cooed, her tone harsh, "And if she makes one wrong move..."
Terabyte tilted her helm up slightly as the spider-like appendages dug further into her neck, nearly drawing Energon. The spider-bot laughed, turning her back to the spy and sauntering back to her post, finishing coldly, "I'll have a new addition to my collection."
"Airachnid, a pleasure to make your acquaintance under friendlier circumstances." She replied, approaching where Megatron and Orion stood, first turning to Soundwave and bowing to her old division head.
Dread brushed over her spark and the spy had to resist the urge to cringe away when the large, ever-silent mech stepped closer to her so that he towered above her. Last time she'd seen Soundwave, he had been furious. His angry, betrayed voice still terrified her in her recharge. Traitor. Just one word, but from him it meant everything. Now she couldn't help but wonder how far he would go to bring her back.
For the briefest of moments, she had been inside his helm. She'd heard his thoughts as he tore hers apart. He saw her as his masterpiece; his masterpiece that the Autobots had broken. He wanted to fix her. She shuddered to think what 'fixing' her would entail.
/Lieutenant Commander Terabyte: returned?/ Soundwave commed, his visor remaining blank and his posturing revealing absolutely no emotion.
"Yes sir." Terabyte said quietly, deferently keeping her gaze lowered. She held back the sourness from her tone, "Project Failsafe is go."
She assumed that Megatron would like for the Decepticons to seem like a noble, well-run little family army while Orion was present. Thus she merely bowed again to Soundwave, then positioned herself slightly behind and to the right of him, awaiting orders, her finials flitting open and closed in wariness.
"Terabyte," Megatron greeted her jovially, instantly setting the femme on edge. Somehow she doubted his fair mood was a facade, which only served to raise her concerns. "It is good to see you up and well!"
A shudder ran through her, her face still sore from her most recent encounter with the warlord. She repeated hesitantly, "... Yes sir."
"Megatronus... Megatron was just telling me of how Cybertron fared beneath the reign of the Warlord Ratchet." Orion told her solemnly, his expression troubled. Considering he had just learned that their homeworld had perished, he was right to be disturbed. "I fear that he seeks to do the same to this world also."
The navy and black femme turned her gaze downwards, clenching her jaw firmly, biting her glossa to hold back her outrage. Warlord Ratchet? Ratchet?! Of all the slag Megatron could have come up with to twist the whole tide of the War... One of the Vehicons could have hashed together a more believable story.
"I am certain we will soon be able to supply further data on the matter, once Mega-" She cut herself off. Old habits were hard to break, yet even harder to return to once broken it would seem. "Once my lord has deemed you ready."
"There is much that remains to be shared." Megatron agreed, levelling her with a warning glare, "For the time being however, I'm sure Orion would be glad to help our cause in any way he can?" When the blue and red mech nodded, he went on, "Terabyte, why don't you join Soundwave and myself to discuss what you have missed during your recuperation time."
While worded as a suggestion, Terabyte felt a light tugging sensation in the core of her being, confirming that her compliance was not optional. Nodding in acknowledgement, the two-wheeler locked optics with Orion Pax before bowing to him and following her department head into the briefing room behind the Lord Protector's throne.
A knot of fear worked its way into her tanks and the femme straightened in a discomfitted manner as the door slid shut and locked behind her.
Two Hours Later
Terabyte left the briefing room swiftly, her finials contracted and held painfully stiff in place so as not to show emotion. Behind her navy battle mask, the femme's face-plates were perfectly blank, her ruby optics minutely widened.
Leaving the throne room quickly behind her, the mini-bot two-wheeler headed to Orion's secluded work station at such speeds that one would have thought she was being pursued. She looked as though she'd just seen a ghost.
The spy side-stepped down a vacant back corridor to avoid a band of Vehicons on her way to the work station.
Just as she went to ring the door bell to inform Pax of her arrival, the doors slid open and he stuck his helm through, almost walking straight into her.
"Optimus!" Terabyte exclaimed in surprise, grimacing as Soundwave immediately sent a warning ping through her HUD, startling her further. She had gotten used to not being under 24/7 surveillance. "Orion Pax, do you need something?"
The blue and scarlet mech frowned minutely, but didn't mention her slip-up. He smiled at her, his clear blue optics showing a touch of concern. "Terabyte, please, come in." As the door closed behind her, he frowned again, "You appear frightened... Is all well? Are we under attack?"
"No, no, nothing of that sort." She assured him quickly, wondering how the mech could read her with such ease. She had thought that part of the mech to be related to the Matrix, but his optics, while lacking the depth of wisdom that comes of leadership, age, and loss, still held their uncanny, piercing gaze that felt as though he could see straight to her spark. "Merely a new operation that I have been included in and debriefed on. Its entailments to my person are mildly... disconcerting."
"Disconcerting?" Orion queried, cocking a skeptically bemused optic ridge, "If I may, you seem rather beyond mildly disconcerted, Terabyte."
She smiled briefly behind her mask, choosing instead to evade the question, approaching the provided terminals and examining the archivist's current progress in decoding the Iaconian top secret files that she herself had stolen vorns ago, when Darkshine died. They had been unable to decode them, due to the coding being founded on internal, Autobot known only information.
"You have made good progress on these files." The spy praised lightly, impressed by the mech's progress and tidy work habits within the system. She began scanning through the files to further decipher where he had left off, "What are your thoughts regarding it?"
"The files are complicated, littered with redundant systems, loop-holes, and feint-files." He paused, tapping out a few lines of code, then stopped and vented heavily. "I am bothered by our most recent encounter with the Autobots."
"Do not concern yourself, Orion." Megatron rumbled from the doorway, startling both bots from their conversation and work, "The Autobots are masters of deceit. They appeared genuinely concerned for you, and this bothers you, yes?"
Pax nodded, his optic ridges drawing together in thought, "Yes... And this name that they called me: Optimus. Terabyte also exclaimed it when I startled her... Why? What does it mean?"
It took every bit of her vorns of training to keep her armor flared out and her expression unreadable as Megatron levelled her with a murderous glare that made her spark cringe within her.
"That is an excellent question." The silver warlord replied, his tone not at all discouraging Pax's inquistive manner, losing some of the anger and hate that constantly hovered in his tone, "They called you Optimus when they kidnapped you. It means 'First'. They intended to wipe your mind and personality to make you one of them. You were to be their trial run."
The ex-Prime mulled the thought over for a moment before nodding his understanding, "And Terabyte calls me this also?"
"Yes, Terabyte," Megatron hummed, a hint of threat deeply laced under his tone. The threat would have gone completely unheard by Orion. "Pray tell."
She stiffened minutely, but went on to answer the question following the scheme of lies Megatron had ordered her to hold to when interrogated, her coding leaving her no room to do otherwise, "As a highly experienced member of the Decepticon Communications and Intelligence division, shortly after your capture, Lord Megatron sent me to infiltrate Autobot forces to gather sensitive intel from within and ensure your safety simultaneously. The vorns of maintaining my Autobot cover did not come without a toll."
When Orion accepted her explanation without further questions, Megatron wrapped an arm around his shoulder and began escorting him from the room, "Such is the price of peace. But come now, brother, we have much to discuss!"
Terabyte watched the Decepticon warlord and the Autobot leader exit the lab arm in arm, eagerly discussing whether high-grade was better than sweet-En, and who won the last Galactic Tournament.
It was confusing.
The Prime and the Lord Protector were not supposed to be gallivanting about the Nemesis arm in arm like old school buddies with matching Decepticon insignias engraved on their chassis. Terabyte watched the doors slide shut, then stared at them for a moment before turning to delve more earnestly into Orion's work.
"You are far more worthy of this than I have been for... probably far too long."
"Duty called for it, Terabyte."
"If you so much as think the name Optimus Prime in his presence, I will not hesitate to have you reformatted."
"She's not one of them anymore."
"Just... trust me."
"Terabyte ... Terabyte? ... Lieutenant?"
"TERABYTE!"
Her optics snapped open at the bellow and she jolted upright, her battle protocols startling into action before the rest of her processors. Whirling with weapons drawn, the small femme leapt towards the threat with what would have been a fluidly graceful motion.
If it weren't for the fact that she had been seated at a work station.
Thus, instead of finding her dagger point at someone's throat, the femme's pedes got tangled up in the chair, which in turn began spinning. Thrown off balance by the swiveling chair, Terabyte slashed off the corner of the terminal before her spinning perch overbalanced and brought her down to crash in a heap of flared armor and creaking chair.
Laughter filled her audials and the spy's vents heaved as she extricated herself from the collapsed chair, flaring her armor out and straightening stiffly in the hopes of regaining even the slightest bit of dignity. She picked up her seat and set it back in its usual position, idly reaching up to ensure that her mask was in place.
Her systems heating minutely at the continued chuckles of those who had disrupted her sleep, she took in a deep vent and faced the intruders. Ruby optics widened in surprise and horror when she identified the mechs currently taking amusement from her unfortunate levels of grace in waking.
"My lords." She mumbled, bowing deeply in spite of it all. Orion and Megatron nodded solemnly, glanced at each other and grinned, plainly attempting to restrain themselves for her pride's sake. Her displeasure carefully masked, she went on, "My apologies, Lord Megatron, Orion Pax, I... did not intend to fall into recharge in this manner."
To her confusion, Megatron simply smiled at her in a way that oddly wasn't intimidating, waving off her words with a deep chuckle, "Do not worry yourself, Terabyte. You have added entertainment to my morning."
Not entirely convinced that that was a good thing, the dark femme remained silent, inclining her helm faintly in response. She supposed entertaining the warlord was a preferable alternative to displeasing him. Displeasing a bot who could literally control one's every action was anything but wise.
Orion smiled at her knowingly, then turned to their terminal, cocking his helm at the progress she had succeeded in making before drifting into recharge in the wee groons of the morning. "I see you added several new algorithms, as well as... categorizing my progress?"
She locked optics with Megatron for a moment, repressing a shudder as the slave code reaffirmed itself, the warlord's private instructions to her playing back in her helm. Turning away from her master, she nodded, "As I began work on the files, I saw that they were encrypted in four separate divisions, most likely, it would appear, by four different highly-skilled individuals. Thus it seemed most efficient to divide them accordingly, and decode each individually."
"Ah, yes I see that now." Pax conceded, opening one of the files and tapping out a few lines, humming, then deleting them. "You are using a rather complicated series of algorithms, based on a network of Autobot installations... It would seem that that is the most effective method at the moment. However if we were to substitute our glyphs from Cy-Stan to *Ahtzobahts, we may find better success."
Terabyte cocked her helm at the mech, glanced back at her leader in question, then nodded in agreement, enabling access to the Nemesis' translation matrices. "That's an excellent idea, sir..." She allowed herself a wry smile behind her mask, "Perhaps I would have thought of that were I conscious for more of my shift."
Suddenly Megatron's engine let out a deep, angry rumble, making her involuntarily shift to a more obsequious stance, forcing her own engine to silence as it fought to growl at her position.
She had prided herself on her total self-control; mentally, physically, and emotionally. That Soundwave and Megatron had so easily taken that from her angered her to no end.
"A situation has arisen that requires my immediate attention. Terabyte, assist Orion. I do not believe I will be able to return until tomorrow, I trust you will to see to his needs in my absence." Megatron ordered, turning to Orion Pax, "If you find anything unsatisfactory, contact me at once and it will be remedied. Good cycle, Orion."
Going completely stiff, she felt herself offer the warlord a small bow, the new set of commands clicking into place in her mind. She straightened with a minutely rebellious flare in her armor as soon as the warlord had made his exit.
"It's getting worse every joor..." The tiny two-wheeler muttered too quietly for Pax to hear.
The code was growing and evolving in her mind, expanding its control every klick she spent in Megatron's presence. She couldn't find a way to stop it, and it terrified her. It terrified her even more than when Megatron himself had taken control of her. Because then she had known what his end goal was, and she could fight him.
This, this was different. This was foreign, yet at the same time, it was her own programming. It was implanted in the very core of her being, and was gradually taking over, yet her attacks on it were wholly unsuccessful because every time she made headway against the slave programming her self-repairs would fix the code and reinforce it. Her systems couldn't tell that it didn't belong. And she had no idea how far the programming would go.
For all she knew, she would wake up one morning and find that she was completely unable to act without Megatron's permission.
Who would save Optimus then?
"Is something wrong?" Orion Pax's voice cut through her thoughts, concern gleaming in his clear blue optics.
His hand touched her shoulder gently and the femme instantly cringed away from the Prime, feeling, for just a moment, the overwhelming aura of the Matrix wash over her. Her very spark cringed away, as if it feared itself unworthy of the presence of the Matrix.
"Terabyte?" Orion said softly, the burst of power fading as he went on wistfully, "Why are you frightened of me? Have I harmed you? I fear I recall nothing of the last several decavorns..."
"I-" She abruptly silenced herself, minutely surprised that she had been allowed to speak at all. "I don't fear you, per say... Not any more, not after all that you've helped me through. I- it's difficult to explain..." She trailed off, her optics flitting up to the tiny, unnoticeable surveillance camera in the corner of the room, "A good friend once explained it to me as this: it's not fear, it's more like... respect. Like the kind of respect that you have for someone close to your spark. You don't fear the person, but you fear disappointing them."
"I..." He returned to his work on the encryptions for a moment, then sighed heavily, "I am honored that I have earned your respect in this manner... I only wish I could remember how, or why."
The femme's vents pulled in a sharp draft, and her armor shifted, burning as it scraped over her numerous raw, unhealed welds. "I may be able to... assist in that. For the time being however, we ought to continue our work. Perhaps when we stop to refuel at 1200 hours."
1200
She sighed, taking her precious time pouring the cube of Energon for Optimus and setting it on the counter as she went to pour a second cube for herself. The Vehicons at the other dispensers were whispering amongst themselves, and while she couldn't make out their words, Terabyte knew they were talking about her. It was little wonder that her presence should cause upset, considering what had happened the last two times she had been on board.
The first time, Megatron had been controlling her from within, and had slaughtered every Vehicon he came across. Then, when Soundwave had captured her and installed the dormant slave code, Skyquake and Cliffjumper had mounted a rescue op and took out all the enemies they encountered, though the majority had not been beyond medical assistance.
And now she was back as though she had never defected.
They had all of course been informed of the nature of her original mission. Megatron had made certain of that when they had abducted her. Yet he hadn't mentioned that the mission had gone horribly wrong – in Decepticon optics – and she had actually honestly defected. She sighed again, old memories of before her defection flooding her mind every moment she was on the Nemesis.
The mess hall was a lot quieter without Makeshift.
As far as mentors went, Makeshift hadn't been the kindest, or the most patient, and in the end she learned that he hadn't cared at all and had lied to her all through her apprenticeship and funneled all of her secrets to Megatron. But that didn't make the shattered bond hurt any less, and it didn't make his death any more manageable. He may have been a lying jerk of a mentor, but he was still her mentor.
The large Vehicon jet beside her laughed, then shoved hard into the little femme a good head and shoulders shorter than him, crushing her into the Energon dispenser and knocking hers and the Prime's fuel to the floor with a resounding crash. At the light growl of her engine, he leaned down and hissed scathingly, "Traitor."
Louder, the Vehicon almost shouted, "Watch it, Flip-Sides! We're stretching fuel as it is, keeping bots like you onboard."
Terabyte opened her mouth to snarl a sharp retort, but felt her vocalizers lock up. In her helm, Megatron's words rang clear and undeniable thanks to Soundwave's tampering with her mind: I trust you won't be causing trouble, am I right?
Instead she simply bent down to begin cleaning up the mess the Vehicon had made of their Energon, ignoring the mech completely. As she swept the glass up and stuck it in her subspace to dispose of later, she saw the jet back up nervously against the wall in the corner of her optics.
A commanding voice filled the silent, spectating room with an air of authority that made everyone present pull their armor in a little closer to their frames, shifting to a respectful posture. "What is your name, Vehicon?"
"Backbiter." The large jet that had bothered her spat defiantly, though his armor remained tilted in a distinctly frightened manner.
"You should be ashamed of yourself, Backbiter." Orion said firmly, his tone such that the accused shrank a little further. "This femme has served in one of the most difficult fields of work for the Decepticons, and she deserves your respect, not your derision. Apologize to the femme and clean up the mess you made."
For a brief second, Terabyte could almost believe that the Vehicon would really do as he was asked. Then his red visor hardened and he laughed contemptuously, his voice rising in volume until at last the whole mess hall was filled with boisterous laughter.
Orion stood there forlornly, a puzzled and dismayed look on his face. He glanced over at her as she rose from cleaning the spill, touching his elbow to lead him out of the roaring crowd. Their jeering cries rang in her audials as they left quickly, Terabyte's armor flaring in and out in an attempt to contain her anger.
"Come. I have an Energon dispenser in my private quarters." She said tersely.
"Why…" Pax started softly, his confusion bearing a hint of righteous indignation, "Why did they laugh? I meant it not in jest."
The navy and black femme tossed her gaze over her frame, now dripping Energon from between the cracks in spite of her quick wipe down. She made a face behind her mask, "You have been gone for many vorns, Orion Pax. The Decepticons are not what they once were."
"Why do we call ourselves that? It seems… contradictory to our beliefs."
She cocked her helm at the sudden question, but replied calmly, "It originated as a derogatory term devised from one of Megatron's speeches – you should recall this one – in which he proclaimed, 'You are being deceived.' The Decepticons took the name and now wear it as a badge of honor." They stepped into Terabyte's quarters, where she had already set up an audio replay loop to grant them a level of privacy. Her mask would prevent Soundwave visually interpreting her words. "Unfortunately, the meaning has become more accurate than the symbolism."
She poured a cube of Energon and passed it to the red and blue mech sitting on the corner of her berth, then poured another for herself and sat down on the opposite corner.
"Why does Megatron not do something to prevent this degradation of standards?"
"As I said previously, Orion. It has been a long time since what you remember. Many things have been forgotten in the decavorns of war, and it seems as though morals were among the first to be forgotten in Decepticon ranks." She gazed deeply into her cube of Energon, swishing it around idly.
Orion sipped his fuel, "We cannot lose hope in our cause, Terabyte, particularly not now. Perhaps together with Megatron we can return to the nobility of our origins."
Terabyte hummed softly, but didn't voice a reply. Return to the nobility of origins that she hadn't even been sparked to know about. She was a war-born. She didn't understand, fully, what the Senate had been like, or what Megatron had been like when he started the Decepticons. She couldn't know that, but maybe Orion was right. Maybe if everyone stopped fighting, there could be peace.
She downed the last of her Energon and stood abruptly, relieving Orion of his empty cube and disposing of it.
Whether they be among the Autobots or the enemy, the War would never end so long as Orion stood where Optimus was needed. Kind-sparked secretaries with no taste of true war were what Cybertron had always needed more of. But here and now, what their race truly needed was a Prime.
But not even just a Prime. They needed Optimus.