(authors notes at bottom)
Destiny Ascending
(by Isoner and Fortress Maximus)
Cybertron's distant past, long before the Cybertronians became Transformers:
The world had gone insane. Friends since creation turned into bitterest of enemies. Loved ones for eternity became opponents to the death. All across the metal world called Cybertron, reality became a forgotten thing as a terrible hate plague spread like wildfire over the surface.
No one truly knew where it came from. Some speculated it was from space; a exploding sun released it perhaps. Others said it came from within the planet, set free by deep energon mining. But whatever the cause, the results were all to clear.
Madness was the order of the day.
Stack was running scared. They had all turned on him, even Ram. If Ram turned on him, then any of them could be against him. Maybe all of them were against him. They were all mad, and wanted to destroy him, but not if he got them first. But first he needed safety, and for that he needed to reach the bunker.
The bunker door being held open by a yellow Cybertronian with a red eyes and a flattened face plate that Stack recognized as Omega. Omega was a friend, right?
But for Stack and millions of other Cybertronians, safety was now as fleeting as a dream. He ran for Omega's bunker, counting on its solid blast doors to lock the madness out.
Omega held the doors open for one last Cybertronian... the blue and white Stack. He sealed the doors as soon as he came through. By sealing the bunker, Omega would protect at least this small group of Cybertronians by isolating them from this strange hate plague.
That was the plan at least.
Omega soon realized that he had made a mistake as he watched Stack standing at the window. He watched the change in Stack as the madness took him.
There were only five of them here in the bunker, and the bunker had been sealed, no one could get in, and no one could get out.
Stack must be made to see reason, thought Omega, before it was too late. "Stack, calm down! No one is going to harm you. Its me, Omega... You know I won't hurt you, right?"
With maddened eyes, Stack looked up at his mentor.. "Yeah... I know exactly what you'll do." With a lunge, Stack wrapped his hands around Omega's neck.
At the physical contact, Omega realized he had just made another mistake, and he hated Stack for it. He repaid Stack's betrayal by slamming his head into the nearest wall.
The rest was a blur of sparks, oil and wires.
Omega stood alone, surrounded by the deactivated bodies of those he tried to save. The ones still fighting outside taunted him; daring him to meet their challenge and forsake his apparent cowardice.
For a time he tried punching his way through the wall, his madness clouding his mind so he could not even remember the combination to get out. He sagged, and sat alone against his worst enemy... himself. NO! He had to get out. Get at the others! But how...?
For a brief moment, the sickness weakened and Omega's true self made a bid for freedom. Minds cloudy... have to think. Calmly think. Door. Combination.
Remember why he was there. What prompted him to come into the bunker in the first place? The thing within him, despising the boredom, lashed out. Omega fought back. His reason, his knowledge, wisdom. They were the only things he could use to fight against this madness that drove him to hate all that he loved.
After an eternity, the madness stared to succumb to the calm onslaught of Omega's true mind. It finally stopped fighting, and he was free. But through the window he knew the madness continued.
"How can I stop this? Someone help me stop this!" he called out, the logical side of him knowing there could be no answer but the spiritual side knew that if there was a time for help from beyond, this was it. And it took the only chance any of them had left.
Omega wasn't sure where it came from. It seemed to grow out of a single speck of dust. It looked like a personality matrix... a Spark, only within it were billions of sparks. It did not say a word; he simply /knew/. They were the dead, and those waiting to be created all waiting within. The All-Spark, one thing assumed by many to be a myth, like the fabled Vector Sigma.
Omega fell to his knees, unsure what to do but unwilling to risk irrelevance in it's presence.
"The Dream has been consumed. Choose your fate, the Fate of Cybertron." A voice, from both nowhere and everywhere, echoed in Omega's mind.
"It can be stopped, but I cant do it alone! I cleansed the spores out of myself with my wisdom, but I cannot reach into the minds of the others to drive it from them. You can!"
Impassioned, Prime stood to face this last hope for salvation directly. "Merge with my Soul, and lend me your power so I can save our people!"
"The risk is beyond measure, yet you chose it willingly?"
"I have no choice! My friends, my loved ones. All I care for is crumbling around me. How can I think of myself in this dark hour?!"
The pause in the air was nearly tangible, with a weight that Omega could feel suffocating his very spark. Then, suddenly, "The Choice has been made, and Fate directed!"
Blinded by a sudden burst of light, Omega shielded his optics until the glare subsided enough for him to see clearly. He looked around and saw himself alone.
The All-Spark was gone. Omega was alone once more, helpless. No, not helpless as he felt the change within him take root. He could feel himself as never before as he could now feel the others too. There were so many of them! He had no idea the plague was so extensive. This would stretch his mental endurance to the utmost.
Rising upwards, he who had been Omega simply drifted through the top of the bunker, leaving the roof intact as he took his place in the sky, shining like a low star in the perpetually night sky. He felt, rather than saw, the infected masses draw towards him, their need to infect greater than the fear each Cybertronian felt at the sight.
Reaching into their minds he felt the madness flooding at him, but unable to reach. Through his new mental link he taught them. Calmness, reason, and all the wisdom he could. One at a time, by twos and threes, scores at a time... or was it all at once? With each Cybertronian he saved, he felt both his and the All-Sparks energy slowly deplete. When he finished there would be nothing left for himself, or for his ally. But at least his people would be saved, and that was enough.
It was a few hours later that the first medical team breached the bunker. They took Stack and the others away to see if repairs could be done, but of section leader Omega there was no trace.
It was the dark green colored repair worker, Rodd who noticed it buried in a pile of dust outside the bunker.. Something that had never been seen before. It looked like a spark... except that a spark was basically an energy matrix and this was crystalline... and far more complex than any spark he had ever seen pictures of. Somehow he knew that it was something special, this... Matrix.
Gently he picked it up, and took the rest of his shift off. The day passed in his workshop, creating a housing for this matrix. Somehow, it seemed instinctual what it should look like; a basic ball to house the matrix crystal, and handles on the sides to give an overall oval shape and to safely transport it.
Once completed, Rod set his treasure gently on his mantle shelf. A fine work of craftsmanship, but he had no idea what to do with it.
Days later, Rodd attended a planet-wide memorial that was held to morn the passing of those who did not survive the plague. Laser pyres lit the sky aflame in memory of those lost. It was Stack who had offered the motion to the crowd to honor the One who had saved them all. A cheer of agreement rose up from the masses as they too wanted to honor the hero.
Although they did not know the name of who it was who saved their race, the gathered Cybertronians vowed to remember the fallen savior with the most fitting name they could bestow. From that day forth, The One who saved them all would be known with simple reverence as The Prime.
* * * *
Years later, on Earth
"Happy new year Autobots! Consider it your last in this universe!"
The mad cackle of Galvatron's laugh was rapidly drowned out by his cannon as the weapon erupted, concentrated fusion energy impacting against the now-deserted platform that seconds ago held several delegates to the Autobots New Year's celebration. The platform shuttered and fell, crashing to the ground with a cloud of dust as the 'Welcome 2012' banner was reduced to a cinder.
Optimus cursed himself for not seeing that the antique blimp flying over the gathering had been turned into a hiding place for a Decepticon ambush. He would inspect the wreckage later, but suspected now that the Decepticons had added small antigravity generators and replaced the helium gas with themselves, hiding in their smallest modes until over the celebration. It was a well-crafted plan. **I wonder who though of it and told Galvatron** Optimus mused silently until another crash of weapons fire redirected his attentions.
"Protectabots, transform to Defensor and safeguard the humans! All other Autobots... COUNTERATTACK!"
Responding to their commander's order, Hot Spot, Streetwise, Groove, First Aid and Blades leapt up, their mechanical bodies twisting and merging until where before 5 Protectabots stood there now there was only Defensor.
And he was /pissed/.
"Behind me!" yelled the gestalt as he returned fire at the Decepticons. His fireball cannons spewed flaming shots as he alternated between firing them and activating short bursts of his force shield; all while backing the gathered humans towards the remains of Mt. Saint Hillary and sanctuary within the rubble that for so many years was home to the Autobots of Earth.
Seeing that Defensor had the humans safe, Optimus turned his full attention on the Decepticon leader and fired. His laser rifle spoke of his anger at them for disturbing a time of hope and happiness for the new year and to be honest, Optimus felt a sense of slight satisfaction when Galvatron was caught off-guard by the attack and sent staggering back.
"Mightly Galvatron, are you injured ?!"
"Fool! I can not be stopped by such a pathetic attack as any /true/ Decepticon warrior should know!" glared the purple robot as Cyclonus paused, the barb-though not unique by this point- still hurt him more than he would ever admit to anyone, even himself. He felt a surge of anger from his Nebulon counterpart, but for once Nightstick stayed quiet.
"Of.. course.. Mighty Galvatron. I came to report that our initial attack was successful but the humans are getting away and Defensor's force-shield is too strong for the Battlechargers to penetrate. We need your brilliance to captu...UUURRRGH!"
Scourge and Fracus arrived just in time to see the savage backhand Galvatron gave Cyclonus, both Decepticon and Nebulon wincing at the sound.
"WHAT do I care about the humans Cyclonus? They are beneath my contempt and shall be destroyed at a time of MY choosing!" A pause came over the Decepticon leader as he watched his second-in-command wipe a bit of oil from his mouth caused by the strike. Then.. horribly.. Galvatron began to smile. "But perhaps your are right Cyclonus. They could prove.. problematic at best. You and the other.. Targetmasters..' he paused again, saying the last word as if it were pure venom.. "go and attack Defensor. One Autobot gestalt and a group of defenseless humans should be enough of a challenge for you and your kind!" and with that Galvatron began to laugh, the bitter insult music to his audio processors.
An observer looking upon the group would have been shocked by the look of utter astonishment on both Cyclonus's and Scouge's face plates. As if deep inside Cyclonus a final breaking of spirit happened, the Decepticon nodded and transformed into jet mode, Nightstick taking his usual place on top. Firing up his engines, Cyclonus took off with Scourge and Fracas close behind, the sound of Galvatron's laughter still echoing in their audio receptors.
"Cyclonus...."? began Scourge, but was cut short.
"Not..now..Scourge. " said Cyclonus, his voice even colder than normal..."Call Tiggerhappy and the others and have then meet up with us at attack grid Zeta." And with that Cyclonus took off at supersonic speeds.
Had Scourge not been so preoccupied with carrying out the command and keeping up with Cyclonus, he might have noticed that for the first time in a long while, Cyclonus did not charge into battle 'for the greater glory of Galvatron..'.
The battle was still a draw to Optimus, Autobot casualties still low but enough to make him hate the folly of this war once again. Still, he could not let that eat as his resolve and plunged into the battle determined to make it stop. And the best way to do that was the direct approach.
He just hoped it worked out better /this/ time.
Galvatron had landed to better coordinate his troops. As he viewed the battlefield he noticed the fighting had become pockets of activity and not the glorious sprawl of warfare he preferred. Still, it was amusing to see Blaster and Soundwave go one-on-one with their respective cassette warriors doing the same. And, admittedly, it was fun watching the Terrorcons and Dinobots fight, although he laughingly wondered if the combined brain power of that struggle would even fill a single energon cube. But by far the most interesting battle was that between Superion and Menasor. The two gestalts pummeled each other as their decades-old grudge still demanded resolution.
"Galvatron..."
The Decepticon leader spun around, optics narrowing in rage at the owner of that most hated voice. "Prime!" he spat, noticing the Autobot had his laser at the ready. Sneering he laughed loudly.. "Again you prove yourself a fool Optimus! You failed to take the advantage. How the universe will thank me when I remove you from it's embrace!"
"I do not attack from behind Galvatron. Any /true/ warrior would ignore such a cowardly way of fighting" Optimus remarked smoothly as he eyed the Decepticon closely.
Galvatron blinked, startled that the words he used so short a time ago against Cyclonus which brought him pleasure were now being used against him with startling effectiveness. Rapidly, his boundless rage consumed him fully and he snarled at the Autobot before him. "You miserable...I'll crush you with my bare hands!" he screamed, launching himself towards a stunned Optimus Prime.
"No.." paused Optimus as a memory from the past surface. What was to have been the final battle. The last engagement whose reward was to have been timeless peace. Unknown to all but himself, Optimus knew the moment he arrived at Autobot City his time was over. Everything had happened as it was supposed to. Up until the plague...
A flash of purple in motion drew his attention from the tides of memory and back to the battle as he and Galvatron collided, both leaders crashing to the ground in a fight beyond belief. Savage swings met with blocks as the two leaders let loose their anger and rage; one at being denied peace for his race, the other at being denied his destiny of ruling the universe.
Trusting his Autobots to defend the humans and drive the Decepticons into retreat, Optimus let himself focus on the battle at hand.
"Springer, a cursory judgment of our present fortifications indicate a distinct logistical error!" shouted Perceptor over the din of fire from the Combaticons on the opposite ridge.
"Can you translate that into something a little more mundane, Perceptor!?" sighed an exasperated Tracks as he released another volley of darkness from his human weapon and friend.
"What he means is we're going to get our paint jobs ruined if we stay here Tracks, and I just got out of the detail shop this morning!"
Wondering what deity he upset this morning, Springer cast a look towards Sunstreaker. "Well excuse me Mr. Universe! Maybe I should just tell Onslaught that you've got a car show this evening and could he please hold off blowing our chips out our audio receptors!"
"I'm not the one who put us box canyon Springer. That, I believe, was /your/ bright idea!" yelled Tracks as he let loose with another blast of darkness, causing Blast Off's shot to go wild and impact above them, sending another rain of rocks down upon the trio of Autobots.
"Well excuse me if I didn't see a lot of options here guys! Besides, if we hadn't taken out that nerd Swindle, we'd be up to our trunks in Bruticus right now!"
"Hey guys!" shouted the transformed Rhoul as he paused firing for a moment. "Could we debate 'whose fault this is' LATER when the Decepticons stop trying to turn us into kibbles and bits!?"
"Rhoul is right! This bickering leads to nowhere. We must either...avalanche!" shouted a shocked Perceptor as the last impact was more than the cliff face could handle and mounds of granite rolled down the hillside, buying the scurrying Autobots underneath it's tonnage.
As the dust settled, Onlsaught and the other Combaticons (minus the injured Swindle and Vortex, who was providing air support against Defensor ) floated down to the debris field, searching for survivors. "Galvatron wants no one left alive. Make sure they're off-line.. Permanently."
"Please Onslaught" snubbed Blast Off, his 'I am /so/ much better than you' attitude thick in the air, "as if we would risk Galvatron's wrath over something like that.."
"All I wanna do is crush them into foil!" grumbled Brawl, his every movement a noisy one.
Sighing, Onslaught picked up Springer's sword, the weapon narrowly avoiding being buried by the rocks. "A nice trophy if nothing else.." he mused
"So will your chassises on my wall Onslaught!" snarled Springer as he launched from the rubble he used to hide within, catching both Blast Off and Brawl unaware and slamming their heads together hard enough that even Onlaught felt it. Quickly sliding to the ground, the two Combaticons went off-line as Onslaught found himself face to face with Springer.
"I believe you have something of mine Combaticon..."
"Come and get it you antique..."
"Anything yet Arcee?"
"Not yet Daniel. No sign of movement for a thousand yards."
Nodding, the teen-aged human went back to scanning with the electro-scopes as his friend and partner went back to her lookout duties as well, engine at a low idle should the pair need to leave in a hurry. Adjusting her scans to the ultrasonic, Arcee swept the desert and would have shook her head had she not been in vehicular mode.
"I don't understand Daniel. According to intelligence data Optimus gave us, we should have seen the Triggercons by now."
Hearing a grunted reply, Arcee paused her scan and 'looked' over at Daniel. "What was that?"
"Nothing Arcee..."
"I don't think it was nothing Danny, but from the way you grunted I couldn't quite make it out" as she let a hint of playfulness into her voice. Sighing, Daniel lowered the scopes and opened his helmet, a soft 'hiss' of pressurized air escaping from the exo-suit. Leaning against a cactus, he shook his head. "I said that I wasn't surprised. This is the, what... the fifth time in as many months that we've been 'rear guard' and haven't seen a thing! By the time we get the order to return to Metroplex, all the fighting's over and we haven't done a darn thing to help!"
Staying quiet for a long moment, Arcee considered her words carefully. She knew that Daniel had been feeling... left out of late, more so than normal. She knew that now that he wore the symbol of the Autobots on his exo-suit's breastplate, he felt more than ever a part of the team. But recent actions indicated that nothing had really changed for the young man; a fact he was trying hard to not accept.
But they had changed for her.
Arcee was many things, but 'naive' was something she never considered a part of her personality. Deep down, she knew 'what' was going on, if not the 'why' (other than the obvious reason of course). Since returning from Nebulos as a Headmaster, Arcee had found her function re-designated from Gunner to Scout. When asking Ultra Magnus, he had honestly responded that both her and the Targetmaters that stayed on Earth had been 'temporally' reassigned to give them time to get used to their new configurations without the increased potential of being damaged or killed due to their new 'dual nature.' Arcee had accepted that at first as it /was/ a logical tactical decision at first.
But over the days, then weeks and months that passed, she noticed her assignments were much fewer than before, and when she was assigned a mission it was usually escorting human technology shipments, or like today, rear guard duty. Duties she of course didn't mind doing, but when Autobots like Skids--despite his unassuming vehicular design and excellent skills as a theoretician-was not the best scout available and thus the mission should have been assigned to her... them. When she asked Magnus about it, he merely stated 'mission parameters dictated who was necessary' and left it at that.
Arcee didn't like it, but orders were orders.
That was three weeks ago, the last mission before this one. She was hoping things would have changed for the better by now. They hadn't, but the last thing needed was to let Daniel know her suspicions. Even though she had suspected the Triggercons would be no-shows, acting confused as to why was the best ruse she could think of. Looking back at Daniel she let a smile creep into he voice. "Daniel, we've all got parts to play. You know that as well as I do. Right now this is where we are needed, and it's our duty as Autobots to do what's best for everyone. They'll be time enough for fighting later..."
Looking over at his friend, Daniel brightened slightly, the 'our duty as Autobots' bringing a smile to his face. "Thanks Arcee. I guess I was overea...w..w..ooo..ah!!"
Suddenly shaking, Daniel grabbed onto the cactus, silently thankful for his exo-suit as the ground beneath rumbled violently for a moment then subsided. "What the heck was that Arcee??"
"I don't know Daniel..." shouted Arcee as she regained her bearings.
"Switching to seismic scanners!" the soft echoing 'ping' of the scan sounded for long moments like a metronome until she revved her engine. "There! Two miles, due east. Some kind of massive seismic disturbance!"
"Earthquake? But we're not near any major fault lines!"
"I don't know Daniel, but we're going to find out. Hop in!"
Nodding, Danny jumped into Arcee as she slid the seat belt around his armored form and with a cloud of dust sped off towards the disturbance's epicenter.
"Oh man!" exclaimed Daniel as he saw the seismic map overlaid with the terrain map they used to chart their way into the desert. "Last radio report, didn't Springer say he was going to be in that area chasing after the Combaticons?"
A strained silence was heard as Arcee cross-referenced the maps and came to the same conclusion. "We've got to hurry Daniel!"
"With you all the way Arcee." commented the young man as they sped off towards the sounds of battle.
A distant time and place...
The impossible had happened. Surviving the plague had united their kind as never before, but some lessons are never learned.
Their race had been governed by the Prime council, so named to pay tribute to the one who had stopped the plague and forced it to withdraw into a sun. But, as with most beings, even the council had failed to rise above their individual desires.
Civil War was the result.
While it seemed to work on other, more advanced worlds, so far it seemed that Cybertronians could not be led by committee... they needed a single strong leader to unite and guide them.
The question was, would there be any planet left by the time a new leader came forward?
Peeking out from his bombed-out workshop, Rodd surveyed the chaos. The fighting moved on to another street, but still no reason to stay home now that it no longer existed. Nothing seemed to be left worth salvaging, except for the holder he had built and the strange matrix it contained. He grabbed it and moved to join the roving bands of homeless.
The fighting parties never seemed to take any notice of their battlefields or of those left in the wake of war.
Aimlessly the homeless moved through the city. Destroyed buildings and burning archways everywhere they went. The smell of burning circuitry was everywhere. Then they came across hope; her name was Nova.
She stood in the road blocking their way, her body was a dark blue, and she had red legs and hands, with silver accents. "Stop, wanderers," she called, "Camp here with us and share our Energon. After you have rested, feel free to help us rebuild at least part of our city until sanity restores itself to our leaders."
To Rodd, and the rest of the wandering homeless, Nova's offer was a gift from beyond. Many of them had been wandering for weeks. A nameless voice called out in response, "Aye, my lady. We thank you for taking pity upon us. We will gladly accept this home you offer us for tonight... as long as you don't make us slaves, you have our undying gratitude."
A wire gate opened to allow the wandering Cybertronians into Nova's camp. "You need not fear that; I will protect you while you are with us."
The camp was the old city square. Where once neon lights flashed out ads for assembly vids and lubes at every corner, now the decimated buildings were being converted into repair bays, recharge stations, and shelters.
Unseen by Rodd, beneath his arm the matrix began glowing more fiercely as he approached Nova. "Pardon me- what did you say your name was? You have really done a job, putting all this together."
"Thanks. I'm Nova. All I did was help get people organized; they did all the work." She paused, her gaze drifting to the soft glow coming from the bag. "What... is that you have there..?"
"Oh. I'm not really sure. I made the case for it, but beyond that I'm not sure what it is."
She looked at it very closely for a time before she spoke again. "It's very powerful. Be sure to take good care of it."
Rodd, a bit confused by both the odd tone in her voice and the strange look in her optics, simply nodded. "I will. What's been going on out there? I had heard that most of the fighting was over, and then they hit my block...."
She smiled, sadly. "News reports say that, yes. But of the original 12 council members, only two remain. Maga, and Groundwind, although I have heard reports that Groundwind has been assassinated, and his army now fights to put his lieutenant, Steel in command. I really doubt it will matter which one of them wins; I just hope they do it quickly before more lives are lost."
"But what about--"
Suddenly, a small blue and gray robot came running up, interrupting the conversation. "Nova!!"
"What is it Devcon?"
To Rodd, the young robot looked newly assembled, no more than a stellar cycle in age.
"An army is approaching the north gate!!"
"Which faction?"
"Looks like Groundwind's"
Nova bolted towards the North gate, but slowed before she got there so they would see her walking up as calmly as she had greeted any of the other refugees. "Stop, Wanderers; how can we be of assistance to you and your brave soldiers?"
The first of the soldiers stepped forward. "I have come to replenish our ranks. All Cybertronians within your camp have now been drafted into the Groundwind militia, by orders of Steel."
Nova fixed the soldier with a look that could melt steel. "Those here are under my protection. You cannot have them; we refuse to fight for either side."
"Gutsy words female. You can not stop us. Those here will fight for us, and of their own free will... even if we have to reprogram them to do it!"
"What?! Reprogramming sentient life violates the First Law!"
For the first time, Nova noticed a slight twitch to the commander... Suddenly she felt such pity for him. And a new rage blossomed within her for the ones who would reprogram an intelligent machine.
"You won't care after tomorrow," he motioned to his subordinates, who drew their firearms and destroyed the gate.
Standing in the gateway once the smoke cleared was Nova with two others. Somewhere they had gotten guns, and had them leveled at their attackers. "I can see you are innocent, despite your actions, but you leave me no choice." They fired as one, and the commanding soldier fell.
Rodd found himself looking for a gun as well. He had to help them.
He had to help himself too for that matter.
Nova and her two guards fell before the retaliation, but the inspired refugees took up the fight and kept the troops at bay.
There was no gun to be found, except the one that lay next to Nova. Rodd, now able to see her fallen form through the smoke and fire of battle, rushed to see if he could effect any repairs before her spark was extinguished forever.
He didn't notice the laser blasts that flashed around him as he charged for her body. There was no goal other than reaching Nova.
Looking from outside the battlefield, an outsider could see nothing through the smoke and debris but a soft blue glow moving through the dust.
In all the years he had kept the matrix on his mantle shelf, Rodd had never before seen it glow as brightly as it did then. It was then he reached her form and saw how fast she was fading and how far beyond his meager skills she was.
Suddenly, there was... another... in his mind; a second presence that came into being the moment his hand touched Nova's arm. There was no logical reason for the new sense within him; Rodd simply /knew/ this.. whatever.. was his last hope for saving the fallen camp leader.
Through the other, he sensed a unique form of nobility within Nova. A nobility that could not be lost. The matrix's glow became blinding.
She was changing. Somehow, this... no /The/ Matrix was recreating her, making her larger, more powerful, better than before. The only thing Rodd could think to do to help was to hold the matrix close to her.
**It must be some kind of...Creation Matrix,** Rodd thought as he watched in awe.
A few seconds later the process was complete, and her optics came fully online. She reached for her gun, which was also much larger than it had been before.
"Nova?"
"Yes... no. Not anymore. I'm Prima now."
She lifted her rifle into the sky, and it fired with a sound like ever heard before. "Stop fighting NOW!"
The command in her voice was unmistakable, and the fighting stopped at once. There were those present who would later say they weren't sure they physically could have disobeyed had they wanted to anyway.
"There will be no fighting here! This camp is for the tired, the wounded, and the homeless. If you want to fight, then follow me. I'm going to the Citadel to finish this madness once and for all! If you want to fight against me and forfeit your own lives, then that is your decision, but you will /not/ do it here!"
Slowly, and with unmistakable determination, she walked out of the camp and towards the Citadel. The refugees who had risen to defend the camp followed, as did many of the soldiers who had come to take her.
They all followed her without question now.
Rodd slowly walked up to her, and gently spoke to the female with a respectful tone. "I think you could do a much better job of protecting this Matrix than I" he honestly admitted.
With only a momentary pause, the carefully took the offering. "Thank you, Rodd." Her chest plates parted, to reveal a space just the right size for the matrix and its holder. She placed it within herself and for a long moment seemed... elsewhere.
Or perhaps elsewhen.
After the pause, she continued. "It... speaks to me in ways you could not begin to understand. It's all... hard to understand, but I do know this without a doubt. When my time has past, I will join with it, and it shall be passed to the next leader until the time comes when it is needed to light our darkest hours. It will be one of yours, Rodd, to be the first to release its full power. A small gift for all you have done."
"But...please... let me.." he began, but a soft shake of her head gave him pause.
"This is not your time Rodd. Return to your home and your city. Your destiny lies elsewhere from mine." It was then a small smile crossed her face. "We shall meet again...in time." With that, she departed to fulfill the destiny that awaited her presence.
Rodd watched Prima lead her troops away into the heart of the city. He knew full well that it would be a very short time before she restored order to the city.
But deep within his Spark, Rodd feared the price she might have pay in order to achieve the most fragile of peace.
(((((((((((( TO BE CONTINUED )))))))))))))))))
Authors Notes:
This is not the first time that Isoner and I have collaborated, the first time was on a Digimon story called Full Circle.
This story will eventually have several chapters, and jumps from ancient past to future and back, in an attempt to tell a larger story that will solve the gaps and contradictions of the Transformer Universe.
Please let us know what you think and if you can leave a review. We want to keep writing the rest of it, but if no one reads it, why bother?
Thanks from us both!!
FortressMaximus and Isoner
Destiny Ascending
(by Isoner and Fortress Maximus)
Cybertron's distant past, long before the Cybertronians became Transformers:
The world had gone insane. Friends since creation turned into bitterest of enemies. Loved ones for eternity became opponents to the death. All across the metal world called Cybertron, reality became a forgotten thing as a terrible hate plague spread like wildfire over the surface.
No one truly knew where it came from. Some speculated it was from space; a exploding sun released it perhaps. Others said it came from within the planet, set free by deep energon mining. But whatever the cause, the results were all to clear.
Madness was the order of the day.
Stack was running scared. They had all turned on him, even Ram. If Ram turned on him, then any of them could be against him. Maybe all of them were against him. They were all mad, and wanted to destroy him, but not if he got them first. But first he needed safety, and for that he needed to reach the bunker.
The bunker door being held open by a yellow Cybertronian with a red eyes and a flattened face plate that Stack recognized as Omega. Omega was a friend, right?
But for Stack and millions of other Cybertronians, safety was now as fleeting as a dream. He ran for Omega's bunker, counting on its solid blast doors to lock the madness out.
Omega held the doors open for one last Cybertronian... the blue and white Stack. He sealed the doors as soon as he came through. By sealing the bunker, Omega would protect at least this small group of Cybertronians by isolating them from this strange hate plague.
That was the plan at least.
Omega soon realized that he had made a mistake as he watched Stack standing at the window. He watched the change in Stack as the madness took him.
There were only five of them here in the bunker, and the bunker had been sealed, no one could get in, and no one could get out.
Stack must be made to see reason, thought Omega, before it was too late. "Stack, calm down! No one is going to harm you. Its me, Omega... You know I won't hurt you, right?"
With maddened eyes, Stack looked up at his mentor.. "Yeah... I know exactly what you'll do." With a lunge, Stack wrapped his hands around Omega's neck.
At the physical contact, Omega realized he had just made another mistake, and he hated Stack for it. He repaid Stack's betrayal by slamming his head into the nearest wall.
The rest was a blur of sparks, oil and wires.
Omega stood alone, surrounded by the deactivated bodies of those he tried to save. The ones still fighting outside taunted him; daring him to meet their challenge and forsake his apparent cowardice.
For a time he tried punching his way through the wall, his madness clouding his mind so he could not even remember the combination to get out. He sagged, and sat alone against his worst enemy... himself. NO! He had to get out. Get at the others! But how...?
For a brief moment, the sickness weakened and Omega's true self made a bid for freedom. Minds cloudy... have to think. Calmly think. Door. Combination.
Remember why he was there. What prompted him to come into the bunker in the first place? The thing within him, despising the boredom, lashed out. Omega fought back. His reason, his knowledge, wisdom. They were the only things he could use to fight against this madness that drove him to hate all that he loved.
After an eternity, the madness stared to succumb to the calm onslaught of Omega's true mind. It finally stopped fighting, and he was free. But through the window he knew the madness continued.
"How can I stop this? Someone help me stop this!" he called out, the logical side of him knowing there could be no answer but the spiritual side knew that if there was a time for help from beyond, this was it. And it took the only chance any of them had left.
Omega wasn't sure where it came from. It seemed to grow out of a single speck of dust. It looked like a personality matrix... a Spark, only within it were billions of sparks. It did not say a word; he simply /knew/. They were the dead, and those waiting to be created all waiting within. The All-Spark, one thing assumed by many to be a myth, like the fabled Vector Sigma.
Omega fell to his knees, unsure what to do but unwilling to risk irrelevance in it's presence.
"The Dream has been consumed. Choose your fate, the Fate of Cybertron." A voice, from both nowhere and everywhere, echoed in Omega's mind.
"It can be stopped, but I cant do it alone! I cleansed the spores out of myself with my wisdom, but I cannot reach into the minds of the others to drive it from them. You can!"
Impassioned, Prime stood to face this last hope for salvation directly. "Merge with my Soul, and lend me your power so I can save our people!"
"The risk is beyond measure, yet you chose it willingly?"
"I have no choice! My friends, my loved ones. All I care for is crumbling around me. How can I think of myself in this dark hour?!"
The pause in the air was nearly tangible, with a weight that Omega could feel suffocating his very spark. Then, suddenly, "The Choice has been made, and Fate directed!"
Blinded by a sudden burst of light, Omega shielded his optics until the glare subsided enough for him to see clearly. He looked around and saw himself alone.
The All-Spark was gone. Omega was alone once more, helpless. No, not helpless as he felt the change within him take root. He could feel himself as never before as he could now feel the others too. There were so many of them! He had no idea the plague was so extensive. This would stretch his mental endurance to the utmost.
Rising upwards, he who had been Omega simply drifted through the top of the bunker, leaving the roof intact as he took his place in the sky, shining like a low star in the perpetually night sky. He felt, rather than saw, the infected masses draw towards him, their need to infect greater than the fear each Cybertronian felt at the sight.
Reaching into their minds he felt the madness flooding at him, but unable to reach. Through his new mental link he taught them. Calmness, reason, and all the wisdom he could. One at a time, by twos and threes, scores at a time... or was it all at once? With each Cybertronian he saved, he felt both his and the All-Sparks energy slowly deplete. When he finished there would be nothing left for himself, or for his ally. But at least his people would be saved, and that was enough.
It was a few hours later that the first medical team breached the bunker. They took Stack and the others away to see if repairs could be done, but of section leader Omega there was no trace.
It was the dark green colored repair worker, Rodd who noticed it buried in a pile of dust outside the bunker.. Something that had never been seen before. It looked like a spark... except that a spark was basically an energy matrix and this was crystalline... and far more complex than any spark he had ever seen pictures of. Somehow he knew that it was something special, this... Matrix.
Gently he picked it up, and took the rest of his shift off. The day passed in his workshop, creating a housing for this matrix. Somehow, it seemed instinctual what it should look like; a basic ball to house the matrix crystal, and handles on the sides to give an overall oval shape and to safely transport it.
Once completed, Rod set his treasure gently on his mantle shelf. A fine work of craftsmanship, but he had no idea what to do with it.
Days later, Rodd attended a planet-wide memorial that was held to morn the passing of those who did not survive the plague. Laser pyres lit the sky aflame in memory of those lost. It was Stack who had offered the motion to the crowd to honor the One who had saved them all. A cheer of agreement rose up from the masses as they too wanted to honor the hero.
Although they did not know the name of who it was who saved their race, the gathered Cybertronians vowed to remember the fallen savior with the most fitting name they could bestow. From that day forth, The One who saved them all would be known with simple reverence as The Prime.
* * * *
Years later, on Earth
"Happy new year Autobots! Consider it your last in this universe!"
The mad cackle of Galvatron's laugh was rapidly drowned out by his cannon as the weapon erupted, concentrated fusion energy impacting against the now-deserted platform that seconds ago held several delegates to the Autobots New Year's celebration. The platform shuttered and fell, crashing to the ground with a cloud of dust as the 'Welcome 2012' banner was reduced to a cinder.
Optimus cursed himself for not seeing that the antique blimp flying over the gathering had been turned into a hiding place for a Decepticon ambush. He would inspect the wreckage later, but suspected now that the Decepticons had added small antigravity generators and replaced the helium gas with themselves, hiding in their smallest modes until over the celebration. It was a well-crafted plan. **I wonder who though of it and told Galvatron** Optimus mused silently until another crash of weapons fire redirected his attentions.
"Protectabots, transform to Defensor and safeguard the humans! All other Autobots... COUNTERATTACK!"
Responding to their commander's order, Hot Spot, Streetwise, Groove, First Aid and Blades leapt up, their mechanical bodies twisting and merging until where before 5 Protectabots stood there now there was only Defensor.
And he was /pissed/.
"Behind me!" yelled the gestalt as he returned fire at the Decepticons. His fireball cannons spewed flaming shots as he alternated between firing them and activating short bursts of his force shield; all while backing the gathered humans towards the remains of Mt. Saint Hillary and sanctuary within the rubble that for so many years was home to the Autobots of Earth.
Seeing that Defensor had the humans safe, Optimus turned his full attention on the Decepticon leader and fired. His laser rifle spoke of his anger at them for disturbing a time of hope and happiness for the new year and to be honest, Optimus felt a sense of slight satisfaction when Galvatron was caught off-guard by the attack and sent staggering back.
"Mightly Galvatron, are you injured ?!"
"Fool! I can not be stopped by such a pathetic attack as any /true/ Decepticon warrior should know!" glared the purple robot as Cyclonus paused, the barb-though not unique by this point- still hurt him more than he would ever admit to anyone, even himself. He felt a surge of anger from his Nebulon counterpart, but for once Nightstick stayed quiet.
"Of.. course.. Mighty Galvatron. I came to report that our initial attack was successful but the humans are getting away and Defensor's force-shield is too strong for the Battlechargers to penetrate. We need your brilliance to captu...UUURRRGH!"
Scourge and Fracus arrived just in time to see the savage backhand Galvatron gave Cyclonus, both Decepticon and Nebulon wincing at the sound.
"WHAT do I care about the humans Cyclonus? They are beneath my contempt and shall be destroyed at a time of MY choosing!" A pause came over the Decepticon leader as he watched his second-in-command wipe a bit of oil from his mouth caused by the strike. Then.. horribly.. Galvatron began to smile. "But perhaps your are right Cyclonus. They could prove.. problematic at best. You and the other.. Targetmasters..' he paused again, saying the last word as if it were pure venom.. "go and attack Defensor. One Autobot gestalt and a group of defenseless humans should be enough of a challenge for you and your kind!" and with that Galvatron began to laugh, the bitter insult music to his audio processors.
An observer looking upon the group would have been shocked by the look of utter astonishment on both Cyclonus's and Scouge's face plates. As if deep inside Cyclonus a final breaking of spirit happened, the Decepticon nodded and transformed into jet mode, Nightstick taking his usual place on top. Firing up his engines, Cyclonus took off with Scourge and Fracas close behind, the sound of Galvatron's laughter still echoing in their audio receptors.
"Cyclonus...."? began Scourge, but was cut short.
"Not..now..Scourge. " said Cyclonus, his voice even colder than normal..."Call Tiggerhappy and the others and have then meet up with us at attack grid Zeta." And with that Cyclonus took off at supersonic speeds.
Had Scourge not been so preoccupied with carrying out the command and keeping up with Cyclonus, he might have noticed that for the first time in a long while, Cyclonus did not charge into battle 'for the greater glory of Galvatron..'.
The battle was still a draw to Optimus, Autobot casualties still low but enough to make him hate the folly of this war once again. Still, he could not let that eat as his resolve and plunged into the battle determined to make it stop. And the best way to do that was the direct approach.
He just hoped it worked out better /this/ time.
Galvatron had landed to better coordinate his troops. As he viewed the battlefield he noticed the fighting had become pockets of activity and not the glorious sprawl of warfare he preferred. Still, it was amusing to see Blaster and Soundwave go one-on-one with their respective cassette warriors doing the same. And, admittedly, it was fun watching the Terrorcons and Dinobots fight, although he laughingly wondered if the combined brain power of that struggle would even fill a single energon cube. But by far the most interesting battle was that between Superion and Menasor. The two gestalts pummeled each other as their decades-old grudge still demanded resolution.
"Galvatron..."
The Decepticon leader spun around, optics narrowing in rage at the owner of that most hated voice. "Prime!" he spat, noticing the Autobot had his laser at the ready. Sneering he laughed loudly.. "Again you prove yourself a fool Optimus! You failed to take the advantage. How the universe will thank me when I remove you from it's embrace!"
"I do not attack from behind Galvatron. Any /true/ warrior would ignore such a cowardly way of fighting" Optimus remarked smoothly as he eyed the Decepticon closely.
Galvatron blinked, startled that the words he used so short a time ago against Cyclonus which brought him pleasure were now being used against him with startling effectiveness. Rapidly, his boundless rage consumed him fully and he snarled at the Autobot before him. "You miserable...I'll crush you with my bare hands!" he screamed, launching himself towards a stunned Optimus Prime.
"No.." paused Optimus as a memory from the past surface. What was to have been the final battle. The last engagement whose reward was to have been timeless peace. Unknown to all but himself, Optimus knew the moment he arrived at Autobot City his time was over. Everything had happened as it was supposed to. Up until the plague...
A flash of purple in motion drew his attention from the tides of memory and back to the battle as he and Galvatron collided, both leaders crashing to the ground in a fight beyond belief. Savage swings met with blocks as the two leaders let loose their anger and rage; one at being denied peace for his race, the other at being denied his destiny of ruling the universe.
Trusting his Autobots to defend the humans and drive the Decepticons into retreat, Optimus let himself focus on the battle at hand.
"Springer, a cursory judgment of our present fortifications indicate a distinct logistical error!" shouted Perceptor over the din of fire from the Combaticons on the opposite ridge.
"Can you translate that into something a little more mundane, Perceptor!?" sighed an exasperated Tracks as he released another volley of darkness from his human weapon and friend.
"What he means is we're going to get our paint jobs ruined if we stay here Tracks, and I just got out of the detail shop this morning!"
Wondering what deity he upset this morning, Springer cast a look towards Sunstreaker. "Well excuse me Mr. Universe! Maybe I should just tell Onslaught that you've got a car show this evening and could he please hold off blowing our chips out our audio receptors!"
"I'm not the one who put us box canyon Springer. That, I believe, was /your/ bright idea!" yelled Tracks as he let loose with another blast of darkness, causing Blast Off's shot to go wild and impact above them, sending another rain of rocks down upon the trio of Autobots.
"Well excuse me if I didn't see a lot of options here guys! Besides, if we hadn't taken out that nerd Swindle, we'd be up to our trunks in Bruticus right now!"
"Hey guys!" shouted the transformed Rhoul as he paused firing for a moment. "Could we debate 'whose fault this is' LATER when the Decepticons stop trying to turn us into kibbles and bits!?"
"Rhoul is right! This bickering leads to nowhere. We must either...avalanche!" shouted a shocked Perceptor as the last impact was more than the cliff face could handle and mounds of granite rolled down the hillside, buying the scurrying Autobots underneath it's tonnage.
As the dust settled, Onlsaught and the other Combaticons (minus the injured Swindle and Vortex, who was providing air support against Defensor ) floated down to the debris field, searching for survivors. "Galvatron wants no one left alive. Make sure they're off-line.. Permanently."
"Please Onslaught" snubbed Blast Off, his 'I am /so/ much better than you' attitude thick in the air, "as if we would risk Galvatron's wrath over something like that.."
"All I wanna do is crush them into foil!" grumbled Brawl, his every movement a noisy one.
Sighing, Onslaught picked up Springer's sword, the weapon narrowly avoiding being buried by the rocks. "A nice trophy if nothing else.." he mused
"So will your chassises on my wall Onslaught!" snarled Springer as he launched from the rubble he used to hide within, catching both Blast Off and Brawl unaware and slamming their heads together hard enough that even Onlaught felt it. Quickly sliding to the ground, the two Combaticons went off-line as Onslaught found himself face to face with Springer.
"I believe you have something of mine Combaticon..."
"Come and get it you antique..."
"Anything yet Arcee?"
"Not yet Daniel. No sign of movement for a thousand yards."
Nodding, the teen-aged human went back to scanning with the electro-scopes as his friend and partner went back to her lookout duties as well, engine at a low idle should the pair need to leave in a hurry. Adjusting her scans to the ultrasonic, Arcee swept the desert and would have shook her head had she not been in vehicular mode.
"I don't understand Daniel. According to intelligence data Optimus gave us, we should have seen the Triggercons by now."
Hearing a grunted reply, Arcee paused her scan and 'looked' over at Daniel. "What was that?"
"Nothing Arcee..."
"I don't think it was nothing Danny, but from the way you grunted I couldn't quite make it out" as she let a hint of playfulness into her voice. Sighing, Daniel lowered the scopes and opened his helmet, a soft 'hiss' of pressurized air escaping from the exo-suit. Leaning against a cactus, he shook his head. "I said that I wasn't surprised. This is the, what... the fifth time in as many months that we've been 'rear guard' and haven't seen a thing! By the time we get the order to return to Metroplex, all the fighting's over and we haven't done a darn thing to help!"
Staying quiet for a long moment, Arcee considered her words carefully. She knew that Daniel had been feeling... left out of late, more so than normal. She knew that now that he wore the symbol of the Autobots on his exo-suit's breastplate, he felt more than ever a part of the team. But recent actions indicated that nothing had really changed for the young man; a fact he was trying hard to not accept.
But they had changed for her.
Arcee was many things, but 'naive' was something she never considered a part of her personality. Deep down, she knew 'what' was going on, if not the 'why' (other than the obvious reason of course). Since returning from Nebulos as a Headmaster, Arcee had found her function re-designated from Gunner to Scout. When asking Ultra Magnus, he had honestly responded that both her and the Targetmaters that stayed on Earth had been 'temporally' reassigned to give them time to get used to their new configurations without the increased potential of being damaged or killed due to their new 'dual nature.' Arcee had accepted that at first as it /was/ a logical tactical decision at first.
But over the days, then weeks and months that passed, she noticed her assignments were much fewer than before, and when she was assigned a mission it was usually escorting human technology shipments, or like today, rear guard duty. Duties she of course didn't mind doing, but when Autobots like Skids--despite his unassuming vehicular design and excellent skills as a theoretician-was not the best scout available and thus the mission should have been assigned to her... them. When she asked Magnus about it, he merely stated 'mission parameters dictated who was necessary' and left it at that.
Arcee didn't like it, but orders were orders.
That was three weeks ago, the last mission before this one. She was hoping things would have changed for the better by now. They hadn't, but the last thing needed was to let Daniel know her suspicions. Even though she had suspected the Triggercons would be no-shows, acting confused as to why was the best ruse she could think of. Looking back at Daniel she let a smile creep into he voice. "Daniel, we've all got parts to play. You know that as well as I do. Right now this is where we are needed, and it's our duty as Autobots to do what's best for everyone. They'll be time enough for fighting later..."
Looking over at his friend, Daniel brightened slightly, the 'our duty as Autobots' bringing a smile to his face. "Thanks Arcee. I guess I was overea...w..w..ooo..ah!!"
Suddenly shaking, Daniel grabbed onto the cactus, silently thankful for his exo-suit as the ground beneath rumbled violently for a moment then subsided. "What the heck was that Arcee??"
"I don't know Daniel..." shouted Arcee as she regained her bearings.
"Switching to seismic scanners!" the soft echoing 'ping' of the scan sounded for long moments like a metronome until she revved her engine. "There! Two miles, due east. Some kind of massive seismic disturbance!"
"Earthquake? But we're not near any major fault lines!"
"I don't know Daniel, but we're going to find out. Hop in!"
Nodding, Danny jumped into Arcee as she slid the seat belt around his armored form and with a cloud of dust sped off towards the disturbance's epicenter.
"Oh man!" exclaimed Daniel as he saw the seismic map overlaid with the terrain map they used to chart their way into the desert. "Last radio report, didn't Springer say he was going to be in that area chasing after the Combaticons?"
A strained silence was heard as Arcee cross-referenced the maps and came to the same conclusion. "We've got to hurry Daniel!"
"With you all the way Arcee." commented the young man as they sped off towards the sounds of battle.
A distant time and place...
The impossible had happened. Surviving the plague had united their kind as never before, but some lessons are never learned.
Their race had been governed by the Prime council, so named to pay tribute to the one who had stopped the plague and forced it to withdraw into a sun. But, as with most beings, even the council had failed to rise above their individual desires.
Civil War was the result.
While it seemed to work on other, more advanced worlds, so far it seemed that Cybertronians could not be led by committee... they needed a single strong leader to unite and guide them.
The question was, would there be any planet left by the time a new leader came forward?
Peeking out from his bombed-out workshop, Rodd surveyed the chaos. The fighting moved on to another street, but still no reason to stay home now that it no longer existed. Nothing seemed to be left worth salvaging, except for the holder he had built and the strange matrix it contained. He grabbed it and moved to join the roving bands of homeless.
The fighting parties never seemed to take any notice of their battlefields or of those left in the wake of war.
Aimlessly the homeless moved through the city. Destroyed buildings and burning archways everywhere they went. The smell of burning circuitry was everywhere. Then they came across hope; her name was Nova.
She stood in the road blocking their way, her body was a dark blue, and she had red legs and hands, with silver accents. "Stop, wanderers," she called, "Camp here with us and share our Energon. After you have rested, feel free to help us rebuild at least part of our city until sanity restores itself to our leaders."
To Rodd, and the rest of the wandering homeless, Nova's offer was a gift from beyond. Many of them had been wandering for weeks. A nameless voice called out in response, "Aye, my lady. We thank you for taking pity upon us. We will gladly accept this home you offer us for tonight... as long as you don't make us slaves, you have our undying gratitude."
A wire gate opened to allow the wandering Cybertronians into Nova's camp. "You need not fear that; I will protect you while you are with us."
The camp was the old city square. Where once neon lights flashed out ads for assembly vids and lubes at every corner, now the decimated buildings were being converted into repair bays, recharge stations, and shelters.
Unseen by Rodd, beneath his arm the matrix began glowing more fiercely as he approached Nova. "Pardon me- what did you say your name was? You have really done a job, putting all this together."
"Thanks. I'm Nova. All I did was help get people organized; they did all the work." She paused, her gaze drifting to the soft glow coming from the bag. "What... is that you have there..?"
"Oh. I'm not really sure. I made the case for it, but beyond that I'm not sure what it is."
She looked at it very closely for a time before she spoke again. "It's very powerful. Be sure to take good care of it."
Rodd, a bit confused by both the odd tone in her voice and the strange look in her optics, simply nodded. "I will. What's been going on out there? I had heard that most of the fighting was over, and then they hit my block...."
She smiled, sadly. "News reports say that, yes. But of the original 12 council members, only two remain. Maga, and Groundwind, although I have heard reports that Groundwind has been assassinated, and his army now fights to put his lieutenant, Steel in command. I really doubt it will matter which one of them wins; I just hope they do it quickly before more lives are lost."
"But what about--"
Suddenly, a small blue and gray robot came running up, interrupting the conversation. "Nova!!"
"What is it Devcon?"
To Rodd, the young robot looked newly assembled, no more than a stellar cycle in age.
"An army is approaching the north gate!!"
"Which faction?"
"Looks like Groundwind's"
Nova bolted towards the North gate, but slowed before she got there so they would see her walking up as calmly as she had greeted any of the other refugees. "Stop, Wanderers; how can we be of assistance to you and your brave soldiers?"
The first of the soldiers stepped forward. "I have come to replenish our ranks. All Cybertronians within your camp have now been drafted into the Groundwind militia, by orders of Steel."
Nova fixed the soldier with a look that could melt steel. "Those here are under my protection. You cannot have them; we refuse to fight for either side."
"Gutsy words female. You can not stop us. Those here will fight for us, and of their own free will... even if we have to reprogram them to do it!"
"What?! Reprogramming sentient life violates the First Law!"
For the first time, Nova noticed a slight twitch to the commander... Suddenly she felt such pity for him. And a new rage blossomed within her for the ones who would reprogram an intelligent machine.
"You won't care after tomorrow," he motioned to his subordinates, who drew their firearms and destroyed the gate.
Standing in the gateway once the smoke cleared was Nova with two others. Somewhere they had gotten guns, and had them leveled at their attackers. "I can see you are innocent, despite your actions, but you leave me no choice." They fired as one, and the commanding soldier fell.
Rodd found himself looking for a gun as well. He had to help them.
He had to help himself too for that matter.
Nova and her two guards fell before the retaliation, but the inspired refugees took up the fight and kept the troops at bay.
There was no gun to be found, except the one that lay next to Nova. Rodd, now able to see her fallen form through the smoke and fire of battle, rushed to see if he could effect any repairs before her spark was extinguished forever.
He didn't notice the laser blasts that flashed around him as he charged for her body. There was no goal other than reaching Nova.
Looking from outside the battlefield, an outsider could see nothing through the smoke and debris but a soft blue glow moving through the dust.
In all the years he had kept the matrix on his mantle shelf, Rodd had never before seen it glow as brightly as it did then. It was then he reached her form and saw how fast she was fading and how far beyond his meager skills she was.
Suddenly, there was... another... in his mind; a second presence that came into being the moment his hand touched Nova's arm. There was no logical reason for the new sense within him; Rodd simply /knew/ this.. whatever.. was his last hope for saving the fallen camp leader.
Through the other, he sensed a unique form of nobility within Nova. A nobility that could not be lost. The matrix's glow became blinding.
She was changing. Somehow, this... no /The/ Matrix was recreating her, making her larger, more powerful, better than before. The only thing Rodd could think to do to help was to hold the matrix close to her.
**It must be some kind of...Creation Matrix,** Rodd thought as he watched in awe.
A few seconds later the process was complete, and her optics came fully online. She reached for her gun, which was also much larger than it had been before.
"Nova?"
"Yes... no. Not anymore. I'm Prima now."
She lifted her rifle into the sky, and it fired with a sound like ever heard before. "Stop fighting NOW!"
The command in her voice was unmistakable, and the fighting stopped at once. There were those present who would later say they weren't sure they physically could have disobeyed had they wanted to anyway.
"There will be no fighting here! This camp is for the tired, the wounded, and the homeless. If you want to fight, then follow me. I'm going to the Citadel to finish this madness once and for all! If you want to fight against me and forfeit your own lives, then that is your decision, but you will /not/ do it here!"
Slowly, and with unmistakable determination, she walked out of the camp and towards the Citadel. The refugees who had risen to defend the camp followed, as did many of the soldiers who had come to take her.
They all followed her without question now.
Rodd slowly walked up to her, and gently spoke to the female with a respectful tone. "I think you could do a much better job of protecting this Matrix than I" he honestly admitted.
With only a momentary pause, the carefully took the offering. "Thank you, Rodd." Her chest plates parted, to reveal a space just the right size for the matrix and its holder. She placed it within herself and for a long moment seemed... elsewhere.
Or perhaps elsewhen.
After the pause, she continued. "It... speaks to me in ways you could not begin to understand. It's all... hard to understand, but I do know this without a doubt. When my time has past, I will join with it, and it shall be passed to the next leader until the time comes when it is needed to light our darkest hours. It will be one of yours, Rodd, to be the first to release its full power. A small gift for all you have done."
"But...please... let me.." he began, but a soft shake of her head gave him pause.
"This is not your time Rodd. Return to your home and your city. Your destiny lies elsewhere from mine." It was then a small smile crossed her face. "We shall meet again...in time." With that, she departed to fulfill the destiny that awaited her presence.
Rodd watched Prima lead her troops away into the heart of the city. He knew full well that it would be a very short time before she restored order to the city.
But deep within his Spark, Rodd feared the price she might have pay in order to achieve the most fragile of peace.
(((((((((((( TO BE CONTINUED )))))))))))))))))
Authors Notes:
This is not the first time that Isoner and I have collaborated, the first time was on a Digimon story called Full Circle.
This story will eventually have several chapters, and jumps from ancient past to future and back, in an attempt to tell a larger story that will solve the gaps and contradictions of the Transformer Universe.
Please let us know what you think and if you can leave a review. We want to keep writing the rest of it, but if no one reads it, why bother?
Thanks from us both!!
FortressMaximus and Isoner