Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers nor the song used for the inspiration. I do, however, own my creations, Electra, Star, 'At'prafen Pax, 'At'pren Pax, Goldstarr, Silverstreak, and the mech croc. Everything else belongs to Hasbro . . . or Takara . . . whoever owns the rights now. I make no money from this.
"I'm driving down the highway of the saints,
keeping an eye on a friend of mine, who wishes no complaints
when all the strength had left her and hope had become faint
driving down the highway of the saints."
-- Highway of the Saints, the Continental Drifters, the Continental Drifters 1995
**
It's so hard to move anymore. Why is it so hard to move?
The Femme moaned softly and attempted to bury herself within the warmth and comfort of her recharge bed. She refused to open her optics.
I don't want to get up anyway. There isn't anything worth getting up for.
She lay there quietly. It was odd, in her mind. There was a time when she did not mind opening her optics and greeting the day awaiting her.
Why do I feel this way?
Her mind wandered from dark thought to dark thought until it came across a small chink of light. She smiled when she saw it. It gave off a warm feeling inside her, and she felt contented to just stare at the glow.
I should know this from somewhere. I do know this from somewhere. But how? And why? What's missing?
She reached out to touch it but she could not quite grasp it. Feeling a bit bewildered, she reached further out to grasp it again but it always remained just out of her reach. With each attempt, it danced away, teasing her, tantalizing her until she felt she could take it no more. Crying out in frustration and desperation, she lunged for it, her hand outstretched. It moved away yet again but not before her fingers touched it and slid through it.
To her surprise, it was slightly tangible to the touch, and it left a faint residue, a silvery and shimmering white, on her fingertips. She shuddered as the residue dissipated, only to feel it permeate her mind and into her body, and a soft warmth entered her spark. The sensation embraced her, filled her, and treated her like an old friend
I know this. I've missed this for so long . . .
Calmly, she looked at the light and contemplated the meanings swirling around her mind but always o. It stayed close by but always out of reach. Somehow, it reminded her of an old friend, an acquaintance long forgotten, though it did not seem so long ago this friend had lived.
Why? It's a part of me. Why? What's there that I'm not supposed to remember?
She shut her optics, exhaling softly, and she allowed herself to absorb both the darkness and the tiny tendrils of light floating towards her . . .
******
The Femme sat cross-legged in the darkness, gazing at the soft sphere of light. She had been sitting there for some time now, simply staring and pondering. Finally, she spoke aloud.
"What do I have to do to reach you?"
"Let me reach you."
The voice was male with a strong accent, and it was familiar to her. Startled, she looked around yet she saw no one. Only the light greeted her vision, hovering meters out of her reach.
"Who are you? I know you from somewhere . . . "
"And I know you. You've been an integral part of my life for a very long time, as I have been with you. We're a part of each other."
She did not need to ponder his words or the meaning of what he was saying. She knew it was true. She just did not recall how.
"I want you back. But I can't do anything until you're ready and want me back as well."
"I'm ready. I want you back."
The light danced a little closer to her.
******
*Five years after Prime's return and three years after the Dedication took place*
"What?!"
"Electra, please listen . . ."
"I am listening, Prime," the midnight blue Femme retorted. "You're just not explaining the situation fast enough."
She folded her arms and scowled at him. The Autobot leader felt a sharp pang of loss at the Femme's demeanor, though he could not even begin to explain to himself why.
Where have I heard that one before? And where have I seen that look?
Quickly, before she said anything, Optimus dismissed the questions in his head and started to explain. Electra, unlike most of the other Femmes in the City, did not gaze at him with admiration. If anything, she questioned his authority, occasionally disobeyed his orders, and generally acted like a miscreant. Perhaps it was due to the fact she spoke quite often with Sideswipe . . .
"She needs a break, Electra. She's gone nonstop since Cyclonus nearly killed her three years ago."
Electra stared at him for a moment. Her violet optics flashed in annoyance.
"I'm not going to disagree with you on that. However, I get the feeling that isn't your only reason at all. There's more, isn't there?"
"What? What do you mean?" Behind his facemask, Optimus frowned. There was something very uncanny about Electra and her twin sister.
"There's something behind this, otherwise you'd understand why she's doing this . . . You're afraid of something, aren't you?"
"What? No. Of course not!" he replied quickly.
"Yes, there is," she shot back. "You're afraid she's gonna get killed!" Quietly, almost to herself, "Like Ironhide, and you can't stand that thought."
The statement jarred him. Before he could answer, his comm beeped. He turned away from Electra and answered, a bit angry at the interruption. From behind, he heard Electra leave, and she left rather quickly.
"Prime here," he said testily. Electra's words were still affecting him, and he did not care for the feelings one bit.
"Prime? This is Elita." The Femme commander sounded upset.
"What is it, Elita?" he inquired, doing his best to project an aura of calm. He would finish his conversation with Electra later and try to not let the midnight blue Femme get the better of him in conversation again.
"I'm in Repair Bay with Chromia . . ."
"What happened?" he interrupted, alarmed. "Is she all right? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. As for what happened, I don't know, Optimus. She climbed into a ventilation shaft to install the security system when a small explosion . . ."
"I'll be right there. Prime out."
He hurried to Repair Bay, hoping for the best.
* * *
The sight that greeted him in Repair Bay was nothing short of shocking. Elita sat on a nearby table, having a deep gash on her left arm repaired. Star and Arcee were completely repaired but unconscious, Electra and Springer at their sides. Wheelie was just getting down from having his leg repaired.
A small explosion? he thought incredulously. He rushed over to Elita immediately. She smiled rather faintly.
"The roof collapsed afterwards. Chromia caught the brunt of it, though . . ."
As his mate spoke, Optimus realized he hadn't seen Chromia when he walked into Repair Bay, and he wondered about it.
"She's in emergency repair," Elita said, as if she could hear the next question. "Triage, Darknova and First Aid are with her right now. They said it didn't look good. We just have to wait . . ."
Hours later . . .
Darknova stepped out of emergency repair. Optimus glanced in his direction the moment the Mech emerged. The medic wore a solemn expression.
"She's stabilized now, Prime, but we weren't able to repair all of the damage," he said.
Electra, who had waited vigil with her sister, Prime, and Elita, looked at the medic, her expression dead. Optimus found it odd both twins were still there.
"She's lost almost half her memory," she stated flatly and rather accusingly.
The medic stared at Electra in shock. It was as if he could not believe she already knew such a thing.
"We're . . . we're not entirely wh-what the damage is," he stammered. Prime and Elita looked at the young Femme.
"The neuro circuitry to most of her memory has been damaged. No telling how long, if ever, she'll remember what she's lost," Electra said. Looking at the medic, she scowled a bit. "It's rather convenient it's her memories of Ironhide that are now gone."
"Electra, how can you be sure . . . ?" Elita began.
"We're telepaths," Star said quietly. "We've been using our powers to help Chromia deal with his death for some time now. It's just not been an easy road, you know?"
"I thought you didn't like her. Why help her?"
"We have our reasons, Optimus. When she remembers, you'll understand. But not before then."
Quietly, the twins left.
For a moment, no one spoke, all stunned at the revelation. Then Darknova shook his head, and broke the silence.
"We'll still have to wait and see if what Electra says is true. If it is true, if it is, new quarters would be in order. Her staying there could lead to. . . problems."
Prime nodded. He did not care for the news of Chromia's memory nor did he care for the way it was delivered. To him, it sounded rather suspicious, as it had to the twin Femmes. At least knowing Electra and Star were telepaths answered a few of his own personal questions.
"Let me know when she's awake."
The medic nodded and Prime and Elita left.
*******
An hour after her emergency repair, Chromia came to consciousness. She did not notice much at first, except for a pounding in her head and a dull ache within her chassis. Slowly, sitting up, she looked around. Across the room stood Optimus, Elita and . . . she tried vainly to recall their names. She had no doubts that she knew them but she no longer remembered how and from when. It was the first of many things, she soon discovered, that she would not remember. The ache inside her steadily grew.
Twenty five years later . . .
Electra and Star stood outside on the landing bay, waiting for the alien shuttlecraft to land. It hovered for a few moments before it dropped suddenly then stopped. With a jerk and a violent lurch, it landed. The spacecraft then shuddered, and, with the hissing of steam and worn-out hydraulics, the cargo bay door opened. Its occupants, two Femmes and two Mechs as well as a Mech-croc, disembarked from the vehicle. The four youths were something of an odd assortment.
The oldest of them was a red and white Femme with warm blue optics and a soft smile. If he had been alive, she would have stood optic level with Ironhide and probably given him a good run for his money in the attitude department. Unlike most Femmes, she had soft, metallic fibers, red in colour, in place of a helmet and they were pulled back into a tail.
The second Femme matched the other in height and was a faint gold and white, with the same blue optics and soft smile. Her gold-coloured hair was woven about her head in the form of a helmet.
The two Mechs stood taller than the Femmes, and one was a deep blue and white, resembling Ironhide a great deal, the other silver and white. Both Mechs shared many of the same traits as the Femmes. If anyone else were there to greet them, they would have seen the resemblances right away.
No one else was there, however, only Electra and Star. Electra and Star walked towards them, joy and concern on their faces.
* * *
Chromia stared blankly at the console. Something was going to set her off soon and she knew it. The dull ache within her had worsened over the years, and with the ache came a rage she had not known in quite some time. She slumped in her chair, her left arm dangling over the side, and she sighed.
Optimus looked at the Femme, a great sadness in his optics. For the last twenty-five years, Chromia had no recollection of Ironhide. And, for the last twenty five years, he, Elita, and many of the medics had discouraged her from remembering him, even having gone as far as to assign her to new quarters and monitoring all of the conversations she had with others. He and Elita had hoped that the old Chromia would resurface.
Instead, she had become depressed and lethargic. Hope no longer existed in her optics and everyday life had become a struggle for her. Fearing she would not survive a firefight, Prime immediately assigned her to security detail, to watching monitors and other mundane tasks. He had hoped she would argue with him about it, to tell him there were other tasks she could do. However, she accepted the order with little complaint.
Prime sighed, which got a slight reaction from Chromia. The pale blue Femme glanced at him.
"Chromia. . ."
"Yes?" The reply that came back was dull and listless. Prime hated it, as much as he had hated the suggestion of discouraging Chromia from remembering Ironhide at all. She was simply no longer the same Femme, and it pained Optimus to see her so . . . not her.
He mentally shook his head. It was time to take a chance with her, to let her do as she wished, instead of what Darknova wanted . . . it was beyond time he started listening to Electra and Star.
"Take a break. Go outside for a while."
"But . . ."
"I can handle it from here," he said gently. "The Decepticons have been quiet as of late anyway. Now go."
"Yes, Optimus."
The Femme got up slowly and trudged out the door. Prime watched her go. For some reason, as he observed the pale blue Femme, he knew it would be the last time he saw her alive. He only hoped she would find the peace she do desperately needed before her end.
* * *
"Where is she now?" the red Femme inquired. Electra did not know she bothered. The younger Femme probably knew better than she where Chromia was.
However, she would answer the girl. Electra focused for a moment.
"Heading outside. Where, I don't know. It's hard to tell sometimes. Her thoughts are so random and fleeting anymore. It's a mess, really. Darknova did a really good number on her."
The red and white Femme nodded, frowning a little bit. Electra saw the worry and the fear in blue optics. She could read her emotions without even trying. They were quite possibly too late.
However, Electra was not about to lose hope. She tilted her head a little.
"We can always get her to a meeting place, you know? It won't be too hard."
"Where would we have her meet us?"
Electra grinned a bit. "Lookout Mountain sounds good to me. I'm sure we can meet her there without incident."
She took off, the rest following her. As they drove, Electra sent a silent prayer to Primus, hoping her younger half-sister's fears would not come to fruition. She did not want to think upon what would happen if they were too late.
* * *
Darknova glowered as he walked out of Repair Bay. He had just received his orders from Optimus through First Aid and Triage. He was no longer in charge of Chromia's care. In fact, the Autobot leader decided it was time to allow Electra and Star to care for her. They knew the pale blue Femme better than Darknova did, after all, so to say he was in a foul mood would have been an understatement.
I can't believe that they want to listen to those two airhead Femmes!! I know what I'm talking about! They don't!
Twenty-five years ago, he had helped to perform the emergency repairs that saved Chromia's life. It was also at that time that he blocked all of her memories regarding her deceased boyfriend, Ironhide. He was doing her a favour, in his opinion. All he required was a chance to aid in her depression.
If only I could get near her, I could prove to her that I can treat her better!
Darknova had loved her from the moment he first laid optics her some thirty-five years before. However, he had been alive and well back then, getting ready to leave for Moonbase One. Darknova had witnessed a few arguments between them and had wondered since then what Chromia saw in an old goat like Ironhide. The now-deceased weapons specialist had an ornery personality. He did not know what it truly meant to be a gentlebot when it came to a Femme, and Darknova had silently rejoiced at the news of his rival's demise. Since Ironhide's death, Darknova had tried to get her to go out with him but it always came down to, "I'm sorry. I can't. I still love Ironhide. It just wouldn't be right."
When he had blocked her memories of him, he figured he stood a chance until the twins, Electra and Star, began taking as much care of Chromia as they were allowed when the depression and lethargy hit. They thwarted him every chance they received, and they were doing so yet again.
Hearing footsteps ahead of him, he stopped his brooding for a moment and saw Chromia meandering towards an exit. His air intakes quit working for a moment, and a soft smile crept onto his features. She was so lovely a Femme, and Electra and Star were nowhere in sight . . .
He followed her, hoping for a brief moment alone with her. It was now or never. Something told him if he did not try now, he would never receive another chance. He did not realize just how right he would be in the end.
* * *
"Soundwave. Report. I want to know what we're up against," Megatron murmured. His communications officer paused for a moment.
"Six Autobots on Lookout Mountain. Of them, the twins Electra and Star are there, and they are sending out some signals. Two more heading there, one a good deal ahead of the other."
Megatron grinned as the Decepticons flew towards Autobot City. They had remained quiet for far too long, in his estimation. It was time to bring the Decepticons back to their former power. He would see to it personally.
"We land at Lookout Mountain."
* * *
"She's getting closer, Fen."
The red Femme smiled at her twin brother. "I know, Ren."
She looked at the other two. "Goldstarr, Silverstreak, it's almost time."
The gold Femme and silver Mech just nodded, engrossed in their own private conversation. They were like that at times, but 'At'prafen did not mind. Her younger siblings did not share the same bond she had with 'At'pren.
Their moment of peace, however, would soon be interrupted. Electra gazed in the direction Chromia was coming from and Star was looking in the direction the Decepticons were flying in, and they were closer than the pale blue Femme.
"We have company," they said simultaneously.
* * *
The Decepticons landed first and quickly cornered the young Autobots, separating Electra and Star from the others. Megatron leveled his fusion cannon at 'At'prafen at the same time she pulled her own weapon from subspace. He did not like the look of this particular Femme. Why, he did not know, but he knew she would be more trouble than the others. The knowledge burned throughout his circuitry. Liana and Bluestar landed at that moment, and, unexpectedly, Liana ran to stand in front of the Femme.
"Dad, no! Don't do it!"
Bluestar ran over as the red Femme and Megatron looked at her. She gently rested a hand on his right arm. Liana appeared frightened, though the Decepticon leader did not understand why.
"Why shouldn't I, Liana? It'd be one less Autobot to worry about!"
The red Femme just stared at him, her expression unwavering. She did not fear him, it would seem, and the thought unnerved him.
"Dad. . . please. Don't do this."
Megatron kept his gaze and his cannon on the red Femme.
"Megatron, we don't have to worry about them. They harbour their own secrets. That's why they're here. If they choose to stay, then they will present a problem, but for now, they are of no concern."
Megatron didn't look at Elexis as the grey Femme stepped forward. He focused more on the Femme in front of him, taking in some small details. . . she reminded him of someone from the past . . .
"My father . . ." the red Femme murmured.
"What?" He looked at her, confused. How had she figured that out?
"You have that look in your optics. The one that says they're familiar or they remind me of someone. I remind you of my father, Ironhide. Just as I will remind her when my mother gets here and when the other Autobots see us."
Her expression softened and saddened. "But we've arrived too late."
Megatron later realized what she had been talking about.
* * *
Chromia arrived at that moment. It took less than a second for her to recognize the Femme that Megatron held at gunpoint, and her siblings. With a strangled cry, she leapt forward, some life returning to her. She would not lose them as she had their father. She refused. She would die before she allowed that to happen.
Megatron, upon hearing her cry, kept his cannon trained on the Femme in front of him.
"Don't move, Chromia," he ordered. "Or she's scrap metal.
She stopped short of reaching them, but the anger and rage that had seethed beneath the surface of her skin threatened to boil over. Yet she would not risk her daughter's life. She would not risk any of her children. Though if Megatron did fire his fusion cannon . . . well, he would not be alive (again) for much longer, and there would be no way for anyone to revive him a third time.
"Let her go," Chromia all but growled out. Her hands balled into fists, and she idly thought of pulling her weapon out. She did not care to be threatened, and she would not tolerate it, either. It would be a lesson Megatron would soon learn, if he were not careful
Megatron, for once, did not answer the Femme with an ultimatum. It was if his mind churned, suddenly caught between being a parent and being a Decepticon. His two daughters were there, in front of him, and he quite possibly refused to be a coward when they were around him. Chromia knew the truth behind Liana and Bluestar. The two Femmes had told her the truth some time ago.
"Do you know this Femme, Chromia?" he asked instead.
For a moment, Chromia stared at her daughter. Hesitantly, she nodded.
"Yes, I believe so. I believe I know all of them. They're . . ."
Several shots cut Chromia's words short, sending her plummeting into a world of darkness. Her last memories were of more laser fire, some of it from behind her, the rest from in front . . .
* * *
Triage walked out of Repair Bay, his face grim. Elita and Optimus were waiting outside the doors along with the three sets of twins.
"Triage, how are they?"
"Darknova was D.O.A., Prime. The numerous shots were simply too much."
Prime nodded stiffly. It did not bother him the Mech was now gone and killed at the hands of the Decepticons. He had six Femmes and two Mechs tell him what the medic had done upon his arrival at Lookout Mountain. "And what about Chromia?"
Triage shook his head sadly. "She won't make it for much longer. Her vitals are simply too weak."
"But . . . but she's suffered worse before, Triage! She . . ." Elita cried, choking on her own words.
"She's been depressed for some time now, Elita. She may have suffered worse before but she never sank into a severe depression, either. It makes a difference."
Triage looked at them, the crestfallen faces of Optimus and Elita, and the extremely sad faces of the twins before him. He felt like kicking himself.
No one ever said this job would be easy, he thought sourly.
"You can go in to see her now."
He stepped to one side, allowing them into Repair Bay. They walked over to Chromia, the oldest of each set of twins on one side and the youngest on the other with Prime and Elita at the foot of the bed.
******
The Femme never twitched as the light hovered mere inches in front of her. A soft breeze blew by, caressing her cheek.
"Please, come back . . ."
"We need you here . . ."
"Please, don't leave . . . "
"Come back . . ."
The male voice from before spoke up. It was tinged with hope and a sadness. Yet there was also understanding.
"Just let the light enter you and flood you. Then you can go back. You will be missed, after all."
She stared tiredly at the sphere. She could go back if she wanted, back to a world without him. There were children involved, she knew, and they would miss her greatly. They had not seen each other in many vorns, but it was so tiresome to keep struggling. She was not sure if she could continue living like that. It also felt like it was her time to move on, to see him once again.
"But I don't want to go back . . ."
* * *
"I want to go home," Chromia said in a soft breath. She remained unconscious.
"No, Chromia, please," Elita begged, knowing it was useless. "Please stay. Come back. Please. We need you here."
Optimus held Elita close. He remained silent, though Elita could not understand why. They had fought for years to keep Chromia alive. Why was he giving up now?
Electra placed a hand on Elita's shoulder. "Let her go, Elita. It's time."
The Femme leader glanced sharply at Electra, shocked and outraged. However, she did not look happy about the thought of Chromia dying.
"Electra . . ." She wanted to protest, to say it was not Chromia's time to die, but the midnight blue Femme's expression left no room for any argument.
"We can't fight her. Not about this. She's already decided on what she wants to do. She wants to be with him, and . . . and it's time they were together again anyway."
With that, the six youngsters each placed a hand on Chromia's arms and closed their optics . . .
* * *
The light swiftly suffused her, filling her with a sense of tranquility, the love of friends, and more. Once it completely disappeared, she opened her optics and glanced around. A red Mech sat in front of her, and he was more than familiar. She remembered him, and, for the first time, felt content and happiness overtake her. She looked at Ironhide and smiled.
"Let's go home."
She stood up and took him by the hand, dragging him to his feet. Leaning forward, she kissed him and the darkness around them shifted into a shimmering blue.
* * *
The life monitors beeped in alarm as Chromia's life signs rapidly flat lined, her blue and white form turning dark and her optics dimming until they were out. 'At'prafen felt tired, knew her twin felt tired, and they were hollow on the inside. They had not returned in time to save their mother, yet . . . the Femme knew her mother . . . her parents . . . were happy once more, and they would never truly be without their parents. Ironhide and Chromia were often stubborn like that.
"That's it," Elita said, in complete shock. "They're both gone . . . gone forever."
Chromia's arms were gently folded onto her abdomen. 'At'prafen looked at her mother sadly.
"She found her way to him, Elita. She's safe now. And happy. That's all we could have asked for, anyway."
"Found her way to who?" Elita ventured, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.
"To our dad, of course."
The six of them lowered their hands and took a step back from Chromia's now lifeless form. Elita just looked at the red Femme and her siblings. It was then she noticed the resemblance, as if she were seeing them for the first time. Optimus nodded as a faint smile touched the Femme leader's lips.
"Welcome . . ."
". . . home," Ironhide said with a grin. Chromia smiled back and kissed him once more.
"Come on," she whispered. "We're not done yet."
They transformed and drove off into the distance, a gold light enveloping them and taking them to wherever they desired.