Welcome to my newest set of ministories. Like 'The Still' each chapter will be stand-alone and set at varying points between Prowl leaving Iacon and the beginning of 'The Stick Aft's Foil'. The topics will range from introducing characters (canon characters only, though I might write a story for Blackshot if anyone asks for it) to more conversations between Optimus and the Matrix. Requests are welcome.
Ironhide:
Given the fact that Sentinel had been brutally assassinated it was no wonder that the Council demanded Optimus Prime to choose a bodyguard post-haste. Optimus knew the Council was right, but also knew that they were hoping to insert a spy, possibly assassin, into his inner circle. The senators and councilors had already expressed their great displeasure with his methods of dealing with both them and Sentinel's reprobates. Optimus also knew they already had another 'Primus Chosen' mech ready to take his place after his deactivation, that much he had learned through Blackshot's spies. His new Special Operations Commander had been one of the few free of Sentinel's taint and had become a dear friend.
He had to answer the Council's request somehow, but he needed to make sure that there was no way the dubious leaders of Cybertron could slip their infiltrator into the choices. A suggestion by the Matrix gave him the way and he was not long in implementing it.
*ooo*ooo*ooo*
The Primal Security forces were in an uproar. The Prime had called for a review of their squadrons and a full demonstration of their abilities. There were rumors abounding that the Prime was to select a bodyguard soon and they were all hopeful that this review would put them in good standing for consideration of the open position. The eager guardsmecha had promptly commandeered every wash rack in the area to polish up for the initial inspection.
They glinted in the sunlight and if not for the stuff pose they held the guardsmecha would have been puffed up in pride. Each of them was sure that they would be the one to impress the Prime and be promoted over the others.
*ooo*ooo*ooo*
Optimus looked at the overly polished troops and sent a questioning pulse to the Matrix. This really looked like it was going to be a bad idea.
This thought proved true a few kliks later at the training course. The guardsmecha were so busy trying to show off that they mostly just got in one another's way. It was a train-wreck. The Captain of the Guard had spent the last five kliks with his servo over his optics just to avoid witnessing his mechs continue to disgrace their badges.
Optimus sighed. "Well, for a receptacle of wisdom this was a really bad idea."
Yes... In my own defense, none of the other Primes or Priimas had a personal bodyguard. It was usually a security detail assigned by the Council.
"Perhaps we should have chosen a less obvious method."
I am open to suggestions.
"You, are open to suggestions?!"
Well how else am I to learn the proper way to do this?
Optimus sighed again. "There are moments when I wonder which of us is truly the elder."
The Matrix simply sent back a feeling of mock-affront and amusement.
*ooo*ooo*ooo*
A few orn later Optimus snuck back to the training ground in hopes of getting a more realistic view of the guardsmecha. In truth he knew that the arrogance and selfishness he had witnessed previously would not be good characteristics for a bodyguard, but he needed someone, even if they were only temporary while he found someone more suitable.
The Primal Guard was grouped over at the shooting range when Optimus crept near. He perked up at this, but was disappointed to see that only one mech was actually shooting. A red mech of average stature was blowing apart every target the range threw near up. The mech had inbuilt cannons, marking as a warbuild, but he was using a variety of external weaponry during this demonstration. His accuracy was nearly perfect and what targets he did not hit dead center would still have been injured severe enough that survival would have been unlikely.
Optimus was impressed and followed the crowd as they moved over to the sparring arena. Here the red mech proceeded to throw around half the guard in a show of perfect defense and offense. Even when the guardsmechs teamed up against the warbuild they were hard-pressed to get more than a single punch in.
Once the red mech felt they were properly thrashed the groaning mecha were permitted to rise and reform their ranks. The Captain of the Guard shook his helm at his sorry looking troops and addressed the warbuild. "Thank you Master Sergeant for taking time out of your busy schedule to help me train these half-witted buckets of bolts. Having someone of your caliber around will make a great difference in our competency."
The red mech shrugged. "They are a sad aren't they. Don't worry though, between thah two 'ave us we'll have 'em in fightin' shape in no tahm."
The captain nodded back. "And you're sure this won't interfere with your work in the Armory?"
"Nah, mah second is havin' a field orn gettin' tah run thah Armory with minimal supervision, an' as long as he continues thah spectacular job e's doin' I see no reason tah change."
Optimus slunk away without listening to the rest of the conversation. He had all the information he needed.
*ooo*ooo*ooo*
Optimus rearranged the work on his desk one last time and gave his office a once-over to make sure nothing was out of place. Shortly after beginning his campaign to rectify Sentinel's shortcomings Optimus had decided the ostentatious decor in the Primal Office had to go. He had taken down all the battle paraphernalia and trophies and instead covered the walls in paintings and pictures. He designed it so that every citystate, territory, and off-world colony held a place on the walls and few independent easels. Some of them had dual representation, usually a painting representing the glamourized version the Council pretended was truth and a recent holograph of the real thing. Kaon's images were by far the most divergent, but it was surprising to see the number Cybertronian polities that were just as glossed over.
The few councilors and senators to visit his domain had commented harshly on the redecoration, but he would not change it. This was Optimus' reminder of who he truly served.
Finally satisfied with the state of the room Optimus settled down to do some busy work until his guest arrived.
*ooo*ooo*ooo*
Ironhide's Second rushed over to him with all the exuberance of a two-vorn old.
"The Prime called! He wants to see you in his office in half a joor!"
"Does 'e now." came the slow, drawled reply. "Did 'e happen tah say why?"
The younger mech shook his helm and scampered off to his duties at the subsequent wave off.
So, the Prime wanted to see him, did he. Ironhide already knew why, the rumours going around base had been enough to tip him off to that. It was also convenient that the warbuild already knew exactly what he would say in reply.
*ooo*ooo*ooo*
The entry chime rang at the exact time of the meeting.
Optimus set aside his datapad and tried to look like the world leader everyone believed him to be. The master sergeant and primary overseer of the Armory strolled in and stood at parade rest in front of his desk.
"Yah wanted tah see meh sahr." it was a statement, not a question.
Optimus raised an optic ridge but answered genially in the positive. "Yes Master Sergeant, I have an important matter I would like to discuss with you."
" 'M all audials Prahm."
"Well Master Sergeant, the Council has been very concerned with the level of security given what occurred with Sentinel. They have therefore tasked me with choosing a bodyguard. I have reviewed all the qualifying personnel and decided that you best fulfill the post. However, it is not in my nature to force someone into a position that they do not desire. Therefore, it is my request to you that you would honor me in taking the position of my bodyguard."
Ironhide stood still for a long several kliks, his only movement being a raised optic ridge. Disbelief was plain on his faceplates and Optimus could only hope it was good disbelief. Ironhide shook off the stupor that hung over him and fixed the Prime with a conflicted look.
"Well Prahm, I'm really not sure how much good I'd be able tah do fer'yah considerin' how busy I am between runnin' thah Armory and trainin' yah Primal Guard."
Optimus frowned in consternation, that had not been a no, but nor was it a yes. "Is there some way perhaps that I could rework things so that you could take the position?"
The roguish grin that crept across Ironhide's faceplates made Optimus just the teensiest but unsettled. "Yah know, I think we just might be able tah come tah an agreement of some sort."
*ooo*ooo*ooo*
It had been a trap. Every last nanoklik of it… a trap.
From the moment the warbuild darkened his office door… a trap.
The funny thing was, Optimus did not care. He liked the wily red mech and appreciated that Ironhide treated like a normal mech.
Even right now, as he ran through the training course with the recruits for the Primal Guard, he still appreciated it. On the off chance he had not, Ironhide's argument had been too sound to ignore. Optimus remembered it quite clearly.
~~"Prahm, it's disgraceful fer'yah tah not know how'tah defend yerself. It's how them other ijits got themselves deactivated an' I'll be slagged before I let that 'appen on mah watch."~~
Ironhide had been very firm, as though expecting resistance, but Optimus saw the wisdom in the demand. Having the Prime join in the recruits' training regimen also made it easier for Ironhide to add the bodyguard helm to his already full job description.
Given what he had experienced do far of the old warbuild he was almost positive that they were destined to become the best of friends.
*ooo*ooo*ooo*
Ironhide watched his newest charge scale walls and jump pits with an ease that should not be that natural. The red mech knew that the Prime had been a dockworker, which would explain the determination evident in the youngling's every movement, but he also knew there had been a near complete frame rebuild just before the Matrix chose its new bearer. Even supposing the Matrix followed its usual M.O. and upgraded the new frame, this lack of effort should not exist.
It worried him.
That concern blossomed even more when the recruits were directed to proceed to the sparring grounds. A dockworker should not be that comfortable, or adept, at fighting.
Now, Ironhide was a religious mech and held to the teachings of Primus. Given what he was seeing he could not help but be reminded of the fact that the Matrix was known to have some limited prophetic abilities.
There could be only one reason the Matrix would make its bearer a warrior.