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"Transformers" and all related media, merchandise and trademarks do not belong to me and I am not making any money from using them in this fictional work. They belong to their respective companies and I am not affiliated with them in any way whatsoever.

Autobot Prelude

Somewhere, deep within the cold vastness of space, a ship rocketed through the cosmos, destination…..unknown. Blazing onward with an assured since of purpose and urgency, the massive vessel's destination may yet to have been fully determined, but the outcome of its mission was denied the luxury of anonymity. It was quite simple actually, success could bring about the resources necessary to win the war and at last bring peace to their world. Failure, on the other hand…..failure was all but an assurance of their complete defeat. No, defeat was not the proper term; defeat did not fully encompass the level of destruction and death that this mission's failure would bring about. They had already been defeated numerous times through the seemingly endless war that consumed their world, and yet they persevered time and time again, through near overwhelming circumstances to fight onward. Defeat in battle, while significant, could not begin to encompass the weight of the failure of their current expedition. No, to fail now would all but guarantee the complete genocide of his kind. If they failed…..if he failed, the legacy of the Autobots would be one only of memory…..memory of their complete and utter annihilation at the hand of the Decepticons.

Optimus Prime, chosen leader of the race of autonomous cybernetic beings known as Autobots, paused in his thoughts. Failure…..no, this was not the time to consider such a thing, as desperate as the situation was, now was the time to focus on ensuring the success of the mission at hand. Within the commanders quarters of the Ark (their deep space vessel), Optimus (or Prime, as he was known to some), refocused his attention on the multiple display screens in front of him. A dazzling array of technical specs, personnel info, navigational statistics, data logs, and various other types of information danced across the screens in an almost hypnotic sequence. For a lesser being, it would have simply been overwhelming, but for a Transformer (as the robotic Cybertronians had come to be known) it flowed like a calm stream. For Optimus, it was as simple as counting his digits to process all the info before him, but again he found his mind wondering beyond the onscreen data. His mind drifted back to the past; a past filled with pain and loss, sadness and frustration, doubt and indecision. He also pondered into an uncertain future, grasping for understanding and hope, like an organic life form desperate to breathe. Would they find the source of energy they so desperately needed? Could his Autobots hold out against Megatrons forces until they were able to return to Cybertron? Had he done the right thing? That last question burned through his circuits with far more intensity than the others. Had he made the right decision to lead this expedition, when the Autobots were so close to total collapse on their home world?

No.....he was doing it again, he was allowing the doubts that came with the burden of leadership to sway his judgment. There were no certainties or perfect decisions, this was something he understood with full clarity, but choices had to be made and a path had to be chosen. As leader of the Autobots, it was his responsibility to make those choices, and his duty to lead the Autobots through the repercussions of those choices, be they for better or worse. It wasn't that Optimus was one to make quick or uninformed decisions; as much as possible, he attempted to use his own good judgment, the powerful but incredibly difficult to control resources of the Matrix (one of their most precious resources, and a key to understanding the past as well as the future), and the input of his loyal Autobots. From his most trusted advisors and commanders to the youngest of his fighters, his faith and trust in his Autobots was absolute. No, it wasn't the lack of forethought that haunted him so, just the simple fact that he alone could not make everything right. It might have seemed wasteful to think in such terms, but deep down, Optimus wanted nothing more than to do right by every single Autobot, and for the whole of Cybertron itself. Their world had suffered so much pain and abuse, and his Autobots had given all they had to an existence of endless war and turmoil. So many had sacrificed their lives and had never known a day of true peace. With every ounce of his being he wanted to bring peace to the few valiant ones that were still fighting for their future, and no matter the foolishness of holding on to the near impossible ideals of peace and prosperity, he would never stop pursuing them. Optimus would never rest until his Autobots knew the loving embrace of peace, and Cybertron was returned to its one time greatness that seemed to have faded into distant fantasy. Maybe hope could be considered a weakness, but it was a weakness he chose to fully embrace. His doubts gave him pause, but they also gave him renewed vision, and he would see this and every possible mission after it through, until the battle was won or his spark ceased to function.

Optimus was awakened from his reverie by the sound of the door indicator announcing a visitor's presence. He had become so lost in his thoughts that he had almost forgotten the final command briefing before the majority of the Ark's crew entered stasis. "Come in." he calmly replied, once again allowing his mind to purge the doubts and unknowns, and focus on the task at hand. With a slight metallic grind, the door slid aside and his command crew filed in for briefing. Optimus glanced out of window into the black abyss of space with a renewed sense of purpose. Their destination was no longer unknown; their destination was hope.....their destination was the future.