To all you OTSH fans:
This one's for you.
Everyone else:
Well, thank you for coming :D
Arise of Prime
"What do you think she's up to now?" Boltstreak asked concernedly as he and Scrapheat trod down the halls of their recent new base, generously given to them by the local humans of special operations military team, P.R.I.M.E. Scrapheat huffed dramatically, waving a servo in dismissal, "Who knows? She always locks herself in that office of hers after a battle with those Decepti-creeps." their steps echoed off the steel walls and for a fleeting second, Boltstreak had a pang of longing for Cybertron. The familiar silver streets and soaring buildings of solidified glory had been all what the Autobots had known since being created. And with the feat of familiarity in their home, along with the loss of many close comrades over the last passing Earth years, the affects continued warring on each of them. One couldn't help noticing the faded tint in a fellow warrior's optic as they laughed, or the way they refilled in the energon stockroom in stark reminiscence and respective silence for a fallen peer.
But with the loss of the Omega keys and the AllSpark Cube, there was practically no known possibility to revive the listless, dead planet. It was a tragic loss, once quoted as "horrific even to the darkest of cores" by the great Optimus Prime himself. It was true that even the Autobots' eldest enemies couldn't hide their yearning for their original place of life.
"Do you think maybe..." Boltstreak began quietly, only to fade off. Scrapheat watched his friend from the corner of his optic, studying the pained expression there. Boltstreak's lip plates parted to speak again after a click, "Is it possible she maybe able to find him?" his aspiring blue orbs fell, and Scrapheat lost his sarcasm, his mechanical features serious.
"I don't know Boltstreak." he admitted, releasing a warm cycle of air with his floundering hope, "I just don't know." the conversation cut short and they continued on in silence, neither willing, or brave enough to dare speak up. Boltsreak kept his sights low, his black helmet shading his faceplates and thoughts from his companion. The bright yellow decals that he had across his body shone warmly in the artificial lights of the ceiling. While they passed, indifferent and cold onyx-capped cameras followed their every move.
Further down the hall, a sliding door held the proud Autobot emblem. Both Boltstreak and Scrapheat paused at the keypad at the base of the barrier and without needing a word, Scrapheat came forward to punch in the correct sequence. It's sensors flashed once and the ageless symbol split apart to allow them entry.
Behind the thick metal, a lithe femme Autobot stood before a broad holographic screen filled with coding both Cybertronian and human in nature. Black paint covered her chassis, hipbolts and peds. Two subspace bracers that held deadly, transforming weapons locked onto her wrists and shone with each sweep of her arms as she typed away. Atop her neck lay a helm that was sharp and sculpted, showing a deep fuchsia-colored series of intricate and regal attachments under the night darkness of the base paint. Multiple thinner layers of armor hung off her pelvic region and aft, curving around her thighs to connect at a point to her dark leg pieces. Her silver digits fluttered over the key tiles, pressing flashing buttons at an almost blurring speeds. Her spinal support was to Boltstreak and Scrapheat, but Boltstreak knew she'd realized their presence; maybe so before they'd even entered the room.
"Rethalia, have you found anything new?" Scrapheat inquired, continuing on past Boltstreak to stand beside his leader while she kept her optics trained before her. A dejected sigh rattled her stressed vents and she hovered her servos over the keys as her optic slips shuttered. "Scrapheat, I wish I could give you good news." she removed her servos from the holoboard and it disappeared, along with many of the images on the viewing screen, "unfortunately however, I cannot say that I have." she turned to face the two Autobots. Her expression was unreadable, as it had been for quite some time now. She appeared tired, albeit slightly defensive, as if she were unwilling to show any inner thoughts to her comrades. There was no telling what the femme could be processing at any time, and she was simply unpredictable in any conflict with the enemy. This made her both an amazing ally and a frightening one. Of it all, it was her swayed judgement in her frayed emotional state that bothered her peers the most.
Boltstreak tapped his leg nervously and tried to not feel saddened by the all too disconcerting sight of the femme's optics and how hollow they'd grown in their former leader's absence. He could not, nor would ever allow himself to forget, that the very mech had been her sparkmate after all.
Not long ago, after the war in an Earth city called Chicago, Optimus Prime had suddenly disappeared, leaving his fellow Autobots confused and grieved. He had made a trek set for Cybertron, wanting to meet Elita-One faceplate to faceplate and tell her that the war they had fought so long for was over. Himself and Elita had been younger lovers, rebuilt by Alpha Trion before the mech being later announced as the next Cybertronian Prime by the Cybertronian High Council. Of course, he reported missing before he could get to his destination, and none had seen him since. Elita, sparkbroken over her lost love, had gone to the Council and demanded she take his place as the next Prime. They had confirmed, seeing as her passion for the Autobot cause and experience in the war was impressive. She had then been given a newly fitted Secondary Matrix of Leadership, granting her the wisdom of the Primes before her from the vault of the Hall of Records. Now she calls herself by a new designation: Rethalia Prime.
Megatron, a long deadsparked previous leader of the Decepticons, and unfortunate comrade-turned-enemy of Optimus, was killed along with Starscream in Optimus' last battle in Chicago. It seemed as though the Autobots had won things, and the Decepticons had finally been contained. However, though they were left leaderless for at least four Earth years, they found a new mech to lead them. One, without a spark, and without the passionate ire their former master had acquired. Starscream and Megatron may have been destroyed, but Soundwave was capable enough in conquering the awaiting and weakened armies himself as a truly ruthless leader.
Now after every battle, Rethalia Prime, heir to her own sparkmate, proceeded to go straight to her office and continue search for her young love, in hopes to find him among the stars and reunite with him on their new second home. The Autobots were not a stronger force themselves, despite the Decepticons' own vulnerability. They were fewer in number now more than ever, and they needed a leader. A stronger leader.
Boltstreak looked up at the computer monitor that Rethalia had been working on and he found a pixellated picture of Optimus Prime standing at the ready against Megatron. Various notes and comments had been anchored down along the image, both of random tidbits only the Prime herself would seem to notice, along with more personal details that seemed unessential to the mech's picture- such as his spark-stopping optics.
Rethalia lifted a servo and pressed a button on the dash, shutting off the vision from prying sights. "We all hope for what is not necessarily easy to achieve." she stated gravely, keeping her servo laid out on the control as she stared down at them, "But Optimus wouldn't give up on any of us, so I won't on him." she clenched a fist and then slowly released it, sliding it over the control panel, "No matter the cost to myself." she suddenly whipped around and strode across the room towards the exit, her servos tight at her sides.
"Rethalia, where are you going?" Scrapheat called, causing the femme to pause. She turned, her features hard and indistinguishable. "I'm taking some time to think for myself." she clipped quickly, pivoting back. But Scrapheat wasn't done yet, as he jumped forward and was about to grab his leader's arm before she twisted back and he retracted that arm in respect. "But Rethalia, how do we even know if Optimus Prime is still alive?" Scrapheat questioned the obviously impatient fembot and Boltstreak's optics widened at the mech's boldness, his spark shocked. "There must be a time when we simply can't look anymore-" he cut himself off as Rethalia's fists shook.
"I can feel his spark Scrapheat." a servo slapped against her chassis, making Boltstreak wince. "And until that spark goes offline, I will keep looking for him throughout time and space." she allowed no rebuke as she leapt forward and transformed into her Earth-based alternate mode: a black and hot pink Citroen Survolt. It wasn't as thickly armored as Boltstreak's armored Titan mode, or as powerful as Scrapheat's Super Duty alt, but, it was fast, and it certainly let Rethalia get away in enough time to cut off any further interrogation from the two abandoned mechs.
Her wheels screamed down the halls towards the exit of the base and she sped out the sliding doors in barely enough time to let them open wide enough. Dust billowed around her in an earth-laden cloud and she left a trail of dirt clods flying in her wake. Her speed revved the powerful innards of her engine, while the groves of her parts whirred with agitation. Screaming bellows from her pumps signaled her travel for hundreds of feet around her, but she foolishly paid it no attention in her escape. Parts of her frame trembled with not only exhaustion, but painful craving as well.
She could feel him. He was so close, yet, at the same time, he was so very far away. Her spark called for him- to connect with his own and join with each other's missing half. The agony lacing through her only made her heighten her reckless driving in an attempt to clear her languid processor of the memories of her sparkmate- of the feel of his frame and the sound of his voice as he spoke.
She could not recall how long it was she traveled across the dry Earth soil, nor did she heed the quickly draining levels flashing across her vision. Eventually she slowed however, knowing that running off in blind rage wouldn't do any good for the already scarce source. Her wheels stopped turning and she transformed back into her bipedal mode. And taking the time to notice the sun's dyeing rays, she slowly paced towards an overhanging ledge with her curiosity and desperate core pulling her toward the wonderful expanse of gold and burnt orange.
In her drive, she realized she'd ignored her path of direction and hadn't paid any attention to exactly where she was going. It was difficult for her to do during her run, considering her processor was plagued with nothing but visions of her sparkmate and their past. Never had she'd been here before. Carefully, she crossed over the edge of the cliff and looked over the horizon. With a heavy spark, she drank in the warm brushes of the distant star and relished the feel of the gentle breeze.
Cybertron rarely ever had a star such as the Sun, being as their planet was one to drift in and out of different orbits over its ancient history. Rethalia had only lived long enough to see one natural star, while the rest had been artificially constructed in a barrier around their planet as an alternate source of light and adjacent energy for Cybertronians to energon. It wasn't the same, but it had kept them alive until the very machines' destruction in the wars. But this was a beautiful sight to see despite all her past qualms, and Rethalia caught herself frozen in a trance watching the blazing scarlet, cool purples, and blindingly yellow beams flooding the land. A content sense filled her, causing her to drag in a steady vent of the earthy, organic airs. Something about it was so calming and peaceful here... She began to understand why Optimus had risked everything to save it. Earth was their home away from home- and now it was her turn to protect it.
Suddenly, she heard noise, and she snapped around. Not a moment was given to her in preparation before a flash of blue snarled and leapt into the air, tackling Rethalia. In her surprise, she lost her balance, and the two were sent tumbling down the cliff. Pain exploded through her circuitry and Rethalia cried out as one split, showering sparks and spurts of azure energon. Whatever had attacked her bit down on her arm as they suddenly came to a stop at the base of their fall. Rethalia hurriedly threw her arm around, launching the thing into the rock face. It struck the surface and howled, its own energon flowing from a wound on its side. It jumped back to its feet in mere nanoclicks however, and stood at the ready. Rethalia lay on her tanks, her heaving vents already working hard to make up for her lacking energon level.
"Howlback, finish it." came a strange, yet familiar voice. Rethalia, rising with her arm slung tightly around her wounded waist, peered up to find none other than Soundwave watching from above.
He stood with the utmost calmness on his faceplates, his arms crossed as he observed his pet and enemy's confrontation. It appeared as though he was studying them...almost as if they were some form of experiment or entertainment.
"Come down and fight me yourself Soundwave!" Rethalia challenged with a roar, her frame vibrating with pent up rage. Howlback abruptly bulldozed her again before the new Decepticon leader could reply, causing all attention to the mech to be cut off. Her bolts jolted as they hit the ground and she struggled to keep her servos up to deter Howlback's frothing jowls. Foaming poisons and acid bubbled around her fangs, dripping down across Rethalia's chassis and burning searing holes into the armor.
"Finish. It." Soundwave firmly commanded the cassette once again. The creature broke free from the Prime's grasp and yanked her cranial unit high.
Over Howlback's shoulderbolt, Rethalia could only watch as Soundwave merely turned and walked away. He did not care to watch her end. He wouldn't even offer that minute respect to pay witness to a Prime's death? Megatron or Starscream would have overloaded for an opportunity such as this.
Furious, Rethalia bellowed in defiance and she swiped her arm, catching Howlback aside the helm. The Decepticon was thrown beside her to sprawl across the dirt before she squirmed and flailed around to get back onto her peds. "This has gone on long enough, you overgrown cyberdat." Rethalia seethed, coming to her peds with her arms beside her as raw energon leaked from a slash along her side. Dribbling streams of her life force ran along the insides of her arms, dripping off her bracers in a steady beat. A small cut on her faceplates also leaked the precious resource and beaded off her chin to pool at her peds. Two red-hot steel blades shot out from her wrists- the same two assassin's blades that Rethalia had modified for battle earlier on. Their edges shimmered with the energy radiating from them, their white cores emanating ivory heat.
Howlback shrunk away, pushing herself over the loose dust of the Earth to press against the cliff, hissing threateningly. Rethalia stalked forward, her blue optic sensors glowing in a hue of cobalt fire. Her servos swung on either sides of her before she stopped before Howlback, her shadow blanketing her body. The Prime's arm raised above her and the energon blade's power swirled in the crimson skylight. No emotion but focus was in Rethalia's sensory circuits, and she refused to express any pity or mercy on this Decepticon. Too many had fallen because of Soundwave's creations, and though it was against Rethalia's morals to kill unless in absolute self-defense, she knew that his war would be fought fairer without the venom of the this evil cassette.
Howlback's ruby optics widened in horror and her faceplates trembled. Rethalia refused to let her have any second doubts, so she threw down her arm before she allowed herself to second guess her decision. Giving one short call, Howlback's helm rolled from her body, her cry cut short.
Rethalia quickly split the rest of the body in half for good measure, knowing that Soundwave was one to attempt revival of his precious cassette. The old enemy's optics faded to a lifeless black and Rethalia stood tall over the mass. Finally...one more pet form the Pit was gone. Her blades slipped back into her bracers and her faceplates snapped up to above the hill. A large chunk of her helm had been torn off and the point of one of the sharp metal decals on the piece was snapped. But she paid it no notice as she began to scale the rocky wall.
Her toelinks stabbed the shards of stone, pumping her skyward. Her digits sunk deep within the cliff as her limbs burned with dwindling strength and her anger began to seep along the contours of her very veins. Power from her backup systems were needed to keep her going, but she still continued on past the last barrier between herself and her enemy. Atop the rock, she climbed over the lip and pushed herself to a stand. Surprisingly, Soundwave was still walking away, his spinal support turned to Rethalia. Irritation bubbled inside her, and she snarled lowly, causing the mech to pause mid-step.
"If you are to send a pet to kill a Prime, expect no less than scrap to be returned to you." she called grimly. Soundwave whipped around to see Rethalia standing at the crest of the rocky ledge.
Howlback's decapitated helm was firmly held in her grasp and she let it drop to the ground with a loud thud. It rolled once and didn't move again.
Soundwave stared at the metal lump for a nanoclick and his optics narrowed into furious slits, their scorching glow scanning up to lock with Rethalia's. He then dived forward, charging at Rethalia with a rage none saw from the usually calm-headed Decepticon. The mech tackled the Prime and she lifted her servos, attempting to block off Soundwave's crushing, vice-like digits. His faceplates ducked close to her own, shadowing her slimmer features with his bulk. His expression was furious and unforgiving, far from the blank mask he was known to wear. Perhaps he was finally breaking, now that three of his cassettes were terminated. Rethalia winced when her digits popped and produced a few sparks under the pressure of Soundwave's.
"You fight for those who deserve to serve, and that is why your faction is weak." he leaned in further, causing Rethalia's shaking arms to burn and threaten to buckle, "Primitive creatures such as the humans require leadership, as they are nothing but deficient, insignificant lifeforms." he spat through his monotone tone. Rethalia Prime struggled under his grip when he shoved her body further into the hardly packed dirt, but she fought to hold steady as she looked right back into his red optics.
"To serve is right, to protect is duty. Every being in the universe should have the ability to choose who they serve or follow."
Soundwave ripped his servo free and lifted it high above them. Rethalia froze upon realizing what his intentions were and her instinctive programming kicked into gear. Energon roared through their lines, pumping in a new energy throughout her to prepare her for fight or flight.
Predicting his move, Rethalia swiftly snapped her servo to the clip at her side and she grabbed a small square piece from subspace. It unfolded on itself as she touched it and it enlarged in her palm, turning to a micro blaster. Soundwave hesitated upon seeing the fembot produce the weapon and shove it between them, but his reaction was too late as Rethalia aimed and shot point-blank at his chassis.
He flew back, his frame smoking as it ran behind him in a ribbon of silver. He hit the ground with a resounding crash and immediately propped himself up on his elbowjoint. He released a tempest growl, his free servo coming up to cup the leaking wound with a grimaced twist to his metallic features.
The Prime before him shifted on her aft, pushing herself to her peds as a casing popped from her weapon. She straightened and aimed it for the ground, locking Soundwave with a glare that was all but merciful. "If you wish to live to see another kalon on this planet Soundwave, I suggest you leave." she threatened darkly, her arm raising to point her blaster straight for the mech. The Decepticon leader snarled once, but did not move, stubbornly remaining where he was as he climbed to his own peds, leaking and broken. However, when Rethalia's blaster clicked and began to hum to life, his optics twitched wider. Defeated, and obviously outmatched, Soundwave narrowed his optic slips and wisely pivoted on his heelpeds to transform and fly away in his jet alt. He left a trail of sparking energon in his trail when he spiraled into the golden skies.
Rethalia relaxed her stance, knowing the battle was over. For now.
Though this fight had been won, she knew well that things were far from finished. The true immensity of their skirmish left her ragged and fatigued, her frame sagging. Half of her mask was torn off and she lifted a servo to tare the rest of it free. Her crest was dented, the inner layer nearly caved. The covering of her shoulderbolt was missing, along with the glass in all the windows of her alt. A few slivers of black, pink, blue, and silver armor was lain across their small battlefield as a form of gruesome confetti. Energon both her own and Soundwave's sat in small pools here and there, while the dense desert land was charred with black potholes. The blaster returned to her subspace in her bracer and Rethalia winced, grabbing her side. A large portion of her bracer had also been displaced, Howlback's sharp oral sheets and claws ripping the armoring clean off.
Barely able to transform, Rethalia walked forward and input her alt mode manually, finding that it was unresponsive automatically. Unlike before, the pieces of her armor shifted painfully, giving off creaks and complainant moans when they relocated. Heat built within her engine, leaving her smoldering under the cool winds of the breeze as she drove. She did the best she could to hold herself together while on the streets, but she quickly became frustrated when her comlink communications were down. Thank Primus that the base coordinates were locked into Rethalia's processor, for she successfully could recall the right direction of it, and the building came into view within the joor.
Once there, Rethalia ungracefully returned to her bipedal form, holding onto her side once again with one arm. Only now had she really begun to notice the full extent of her wounds, for she felt sore and weak from whatever acidic liquid had been on Howlback's fangs when they sunk into her arm. That had to be the reasoning for her unexplained tiredness after such a short amount of time. That, and the previous wastefulness she'd displayed in running her energon levels so low in the first place. The front entrance recognized Rethalia and she moved through, slowly walking through the halls until she had limped her way into the main medbay.
Sunraider, a vivid lime-green femme ran to her side after catching the femme from the corner of her optic. She grabbed the Prime's arm and slung it around her neck to support her to an operating berth where other Autobots were there in a matter of nanoclicks to question her. Windripper arrived first, the warrior's paint shining scarlet.
"Rethalia, what happened?" she questioned with a chiming voice, ripe with youth. Rethalia winced as Sunraider blasted the microscorcher and began work on removing her damaged parts. Her optics leisurely opened and swept around her, taking in the familiar faceplates of her unit. "I was attacked by Soundwave and his pet cassette Howlback." she explained simply, returning her gaze beside her to watch Sunraider work. The medic moved onto Rethalia's helm and the commanding fembot jerked as her cranial unit was yanked with the removal of the broken crest.
"She really banged you up, didn't she?" Scrapheat commented from his spot lounging on the wall. He had his arms and ankle struts crossed, his posture relaxed despite the view of his Prime being wounded by the enemy. Always the lax one.
"Yes, but Howlback is now deadspark as a result. I destroyed her." Rethalia informed them, holding back a grimace as Sunraider dipped into the lacerations across her midsection. Boltstreak, Windripper, Scrapheat, Steelrunner, and Metallooper all looked up at her in blatant shock. "You took out one of the Con's pets?" Steelrunner piped up from his position sitting at the Iacon computer.
Rethalia nodded, "Soundwave did not take kindly to his cassette's termination." she noted, watching as Sunraider came back with the replacement crest in her servos.
"That little pest has been on Autobot circuits since we left Cybertron. He gives me a cranialache every time I get into battle with that little venom-spewing nuisance." Scrapheat went on in an annoyed tone. "How did you do it?" he pushed off the wall and joined the others mid-floor, his optics trained on his leader. Rethalia bowed slightly to allow Sunraider easier access to her cranial unit and the medic carefully connected the crest back to her helm. "With this." Rethalia straightened and lifted an arm to reveal the blade in her remaining good bracer.
"So you finally tested it out." Sunraider chuckled, standing back from Rethalia, "You've been working on them for some time now. I'm surprised they actually worked without proper prototype testing first." Rethalia retracted the weapon and looked to the medic. "As was I. But it appeared to work nicely against Cybertronian alloys. It will do me well I hope." she rolled her wrist and curled her digits to test their mobility. Sunraider went back to her work as her comrades continued the conversation.
"So..." Metallooper lifted from his chair and gained a concerned expression on his metallic features as he joined his peers, "what's next? Soundwave will be concocting something if we don't make our mark soon." Rethalia, in all her injured state, rested on her upper arms and vented a sigh, staring at the floor. Metallooper was right, they needed a plan. Soundwave losing a cassette will be a victory for their faction and should leave a lasting scar on the mech. Surely, he must be reconsidering his adversaries?
Ultimately, there was only one thing they could do. No matter the cost, and no matter their low chances of success, they had to try. Rethalia clenched a fist and Sunraider paused, sensing the fembot's tenseness. Rethalia then raised her cranial unit, trying to keep her voice as calm as she could to answer: "We find Optimus Prime."
Rethalia Prime leaned forward further against the dashboard as she trained her optics to stare straight ahead. Her digit jabbed outward, directing Windripper towards a floating object directly before them in the vast expanse of space. "Get closer to that space scrap." she ordered. The ship slowly crawled forward, inching nearer and nearer as they approached their destination. Claws gave a hissing jerk as they released from the front of the ship and reached out to lock onto the scrap floating beside them. The space around them jolted roughly and caused the femme to stumble slightly and tighten her grip on her comrade's piloting chair.
For groons now, they had been orbiting the nearby planets and gliding along the neighboring galaxies in hopes of finding any sign of Optimus' ship. Only the past few joors had passed in this orn when they had stumbled upon a strange signature on the radar. Rethalia commanded they track it, and a painful eternity later, it was in their sights. Cybertronian glyphs decorated the side, but they were too mangled and stripped to read clearly. That didn't deter the feeling growing ever stronger in Rethalia's spark however when they closed the distance ever more. The Autobot leader abruptly straightened and spun around to stride from the room, her faceplates concentrated as she contemplated her next move against the docked spaceship.
"Rethalia, what are you doing?" Windripper asked from her position at the controls. Rethalia opened the door to the hallway that held the spacelock and she turned back to the femme, "Keep the ship steady. When we get close enough I want you to connect the boarding strip." she ordered. Windripper didn't question the instruction and nodded before twisting around. The twins Silverlight and Flashfall looked to each other by their spots at the logistics station and then Rethalia's fleeting form. Metallooper stood beside Steelrunner by their posts at the assist panels. A mutual inquiry rang around them all: Should they go stop her?
Rethalia closed the airtight door behind her and she held a hard expression while she awaited the ship to lock onto their target. Is he truly there? she wondered silently to herself. Or is it a fluke? she could feel the jerk as the ship came to a complete stop and the tube released to be strapped to the stray spacecraft. The door suddenly swiped aside and Rethalia paused, trying to calm her pulsing spark. Please, she prayed to Primus, please let my instincts be right. She started out the door down the metal hall to where the entrance attached onto the side of the scrapped ship. From where she stood, she released her wrist blade and slit a hole through the side of the wall, tugging on the panel she split until it popped loose and a billow of chilling black spilled from within. She threw the missing wall of the vessel aside and crouched low to swing inside.
The atmosphere of the space was dreary and cold, something that promised an inner evil stalking her just beyond her field of vision. Watching. It made her nervous to process the possibility, but Rethalia was mostly used to it now, living with the burden of the war that destroyed her home and the deep regrets connected with each spark that they'd lost. The once sterling floor creaked beneath her black and pink peds as she trod slowly down the spacious halls. She held her sniper at the ready against her thigh, her other servo baring the short energon sword from her newly repaired bracer. Pieces of scrap floated in the air in the lack of gravity and Rethalia lifted a servo to deflect a stray sliver.
When her optic sensors squinted, she could barely see a dim shape through the shadows. She jogged through the remaining broken corridors, the gravity soles she wore on her peds keeping her grounded. She stopped at the blockade that barred her way and hurriedly flicked on a light on her shoulderbolt.
A gasp split her lip plates when she registered the scratched and crosshatched symbol engraved on the doors. The Prime found herself standing before the unmistakable Autobot insignia. There was no missing it. The surface was lashed and faded, but Rethalia didn't pay that much attention. She was instead punching numbers into the unresponsive keypad at the handle. Nothing happened and the screen remained offline. Frustrated, Rethalia struck the device and swiftly backed up before lifting her blaster. After warming up, there was a bright flash as the gun went off, followed by a deafening crash when the projectile hit the blockade.
Rethalia lowered her arm as the dust slowly cleared and the loose pieces of metal lifted away. She moved forward and waved her servo around to clear the space surrounding her as the dust floated lazily in the lack of gravity. Her body ducked down to enter the frayed hole in the door and she swiveled around with her cranial unit tilted up to observe around. After a click, she figured this to be what seemed to be the command room, the features of the space familiar to her.
A broad window stretched from one side of the room to the other, a large platform in the middle of the floor surrounded by a wraparound control board and an elevated piloting chair. Her gaze trained on the throne-like structure, Rethalia ran forward and gripped the back, snapping around to see who sat in the great seat. Her spark froze, her optics widened.
If she were able to, she would have broken down and cried like a human. The energon in her system roared in her audios, and her spark began hammering, for who sat in the chair, frozen in automatic stasis, was Optimus Prime himself.
This was the first encounter she had the pleasure of experiencing with his Earth bipedal mode. Flaming decals covered the sapphire blue of his base paint, the complex and puzzled pieces of his armoring far different from that of his Cybertronian form. Silver appeared more than ever before and poked from beneath his usually solid outer layer, the primitive shapes of human automobile technology taking the place of his sleek protoform. If they were never sparkmates, Rethalia would disbelieve this to be her leader and lover. However, the cry of her spark and the bright arcs of electricity flickering from both their chassis told her all she needed to know. No matter what form he was in, she would recognize him. He could have been a Junkion, or even a tire for all she cared, and she would still be overjoyed at the sight of him.
His usually vibrant optics were set in black and his frame was littered with a barrage of scratches and deep lacerations. The noble crest atop his helm shone in the pale light of Rethalia's headlight. The paint of his armor was duller from lack of upkeep, the flames but a smoldering shade of grey. His servos remain wrapped around the controls, his frame set in still preparedness. But his mask was drawn across his faceplates, signaling a sign of conflict.
Rethalia grabbed his shoulderbolts and removed his digits from the controls, releasing him from the control panel. As she worked, she paused for a moment to gaze at the small broken picture of herself and Optimus when they had been Orian Pax and Ariel atop the dashboard. It was open sitting right beside his servo, the image of the both of them certainly one of the last things he'd seen before stasis. It shattered her spark to see the smiles on their lip plates then, when Cybertron had still been in its Golden Age and they were but a naive dockworker and fiery caretaker. Gently, she plucked it from its place and tucked it into her subspace, a sad smile gracing her faceplates.
"Optimus, I feared you would not be here. I'm so relieved..." carefully, she lifted his form up and out of the seat to come close and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. Finally.
When Optimus was brought aboard the ship, the Autobots were in a state of shock. They initially had stared at Optimus' lifeless frame without moving when Rethalia had struggled to bring him into the main commands room. She was now kneeling by his side, her servos laid over his chassis. There was one individual who Rethalia required at the moment, and she passed her optics across the frozen statues of her comrades until she saw her SIC to her right.
"Sunraider, can you reactivate him?" she asked, breaking the silence. The green medibot jumped when she was called and she quickly shook her helm before looking to their former leader. "I don't know, it looks like he's shut himself down to save energy. He needs a reboot if he would ever wake up." she answered, now approaching to join Rethalia by her side. The femme leader looked down to her Prime and dipped her cranial unit, her optics weary with concern and frustration.
"Do not worry my dear Optimus, you will come back to us soon." she guaranteed softly.
Sunraider worked on the incapacitated leader with swift movements, her digits flying across his armoring and inner chassis. Rethalia moved away to stand by the back wall, attempting to find some distraction for herself as the medic did her work. It wasn't more than a few clicks before Sunraider sagged in her movements and stood. She came to the femme Prime with a disappointed gaze. "He hasn't much physical damage to his frame, it's his spark. His Matrix of Leadership is keeping me from reactivating it." she reported, her deeper navy orbs worried.
Rethalia nodded, accepting the news without revealing too much emotion. Best to keep calm, for showing much outward disturbance would most likely unsettle the rest of her crew. Boltstreak stepped forward, catching her optic, "What do we do now?" he inquired. Rethalia halted for a few moments, her gaze traveling from the mech to her sparkmate lying on the floor. He appeared so vulnerable in this position, and she felt a protective need to remain close by him overwhelming her other thoughts.
Her answer for Boltstreak was to order the ship return to base. Windripper and the others went right to work, leaping to their stations and striving to start things up as soon as possible. It wasn't long before the ship was turned and headed back for Earth. Those around Rethalia moved in flustered masses, skirting Optimus' body when they passed, but making haste to get home quickly and return their leader to his former glory.
Upon their return, Optimus Prime was lying on a long metal berth, his servos left open at his sides and his mask removed by his sparkmate. Rethalia sat beside him with her chin in her servos, caught in deep thinking while she studied her mate. She preferred to watch over him when she could see his faceplates, finding that he appeared merely in recharge while having it off. A spark monitor by his other side kept a steady beep with the rhythm of his pulse. His armor was freshly polished and his injures covered, and yet he still did not respond.
"Please Optimus, give me some sort of sign." she begged softly. For a moment, she stalled, waiting for that very event that would signal her sparkmate's awakening. However, there was none, and she was left disappointed and anxious. She suddenly reached forward and gripped his metallic digits in hers, taking up the cold appendages as if they were nothing less then precious. So many times had Optimus and herself held servos like this, supporting one another and protecting each other from anything that dare separate them over the vorns. So many times had Rethalia, then Elita One, had relished their digits locked so tightly.
Suddenly she gasped, her body freezing. Her vision went blind and her frame became a solid block, unwilling to move. The first nanoclicks passed, and she began to grow frightened. Then, before she could prepare herself, she was taken to a world much beyond Earth. A feeling of vertigo overcame her as the light warped around her, colors, shapes, and senses flowing over her own too fast to comprehend clearly.
She could not process swiftly enough as she had been whisked away before everything came to a halting stop. Lighting died down to a more manageable glow, the shadows set in and defined the shapes and forms positioned around her. Silver walls and floors stretched in every visible inch, not a single other material making up the space. A feeling of openness washed across her frame and she blinked, lifting her helm to scan her new surroundings.
She turned in a circle, attempting to recognize the room. It was definitely somewhere on Cybertron- a library most likely. The shelves of holocubes and signs showing alphabetical location showed so. Not a single spark was in sight. Somewhere deep within her memory banks, a familiar recognition welcomed her. She had been here before, but where was here? If anywhere on Cybertron, she expected everything to be destroyed. This must be a previous time, when things were still in order and the Decepticons hadn't yet reached this structure.
She spun around as noise abruptly came from behind. A young Cybertronian met her searching optics as they stood shifting through holographic devices on the shelves. It was a mech, clad in a smaller, sturdier form that appeared built mostly for dockwork or sorting Cybernetic wares, and Rethalia briefly wondered what a dockworker would be doing in a library. She climbed the stairs and carefully tread the catwalk towards the mech, bending down slightly to get closer to his smaller height.
"Excuse me? Where would I be at the moment?" she questioned politely. The worker set down a holocube and stepped back to pivot around. "Well you would be in the Iacon Hall of Records of course." he said obviously, fully turned to her now with his fists on his hipbolts.
Rethalia reared back to stand tall, her expression shocked. She knew this mech, and the striking recollection of who he was caused the understanding of why she remembered this place to surface. This was Orian Pax, the former form of Optimus Prime himself. His younger profile paralyzed Rethalia, the first faceplates she had come to love somehow standing once again before her. Orian's own optic sensors widened as he noticed Rethalia's bracer, his features blatantly shocked.
"You're a Prime." he noted in an awed tone. He met her optics again, his full of such an innocent ignorance that Rethalia felt her spark break. It was certain now that this must have been before the war, and before Optimus would have been forced to stand against the one he considered brother. Was his processor throwing him back into the past to save his CPU from whatever had altered it? Was this some form of fallback program? Getting over her initial stupor, Rethalia forced back these thoughts and nodded, looking to her wrist. The mark of the Primes bulged from the metal, showing a dull grey gleam against the pitch black of her paint.
"You would be Orian, correct?" she assumed, looking back up. He nodded, his frame tense under her gentle grin. "But how-"
"I know about Areil. About the both of you." she interrupted, setting her digit tips on her chassis, "And I would care to explain to you that I am that same femme."
Orian's optics widened and he stepped back. He seemed lost and confused, his body caught between fleeing and staying in respect of speaking with a Cybertronian Prime. "No disrespect Prime, but you must have lost your mechanical senses." he insisted after a nanoclick of a disbelieving stare. He turned to walk away from her, his arms now refilled with yet-to-be-stocked holocubes. Rethalia fought for something to say, to prove her claim. Her optics clung to his spinal support, her spark reaching out astral tendrils to touch his own. Their bond had to be intact, so perhaps that would be enough?
"You plan on joining the war in a few cycles, don't you? to protect her, Alpha Trion, and Sentinel Prime." she called suddenly to him. Orian stopped dead beside the shelves and turned. His optic ridges were drawn down in disbelief, his lip plates open. "How would you-"
"Because it is, difficult to understand for myself even, something that has happened to the both of us. It will break Ariel's spark to find you in that danger. But after being rebuilt, I shall join you as Elita One in the war. Cybertron will later be destroyed, and you will be chosen as the last of the Primes, Optimus Prime." she babbled on, watching him with hopeful optics. Orian shook his helm slowly and touched his foreplate, as if he had a cranialache.
"This sounds so ludicrous. You're the Prime." he insisted, gesturing to her. Rethalia came forward and put a servo on Orian's shoulder, internally relishing the feel of this past Optimus as raw energy passed up her arm. "I know. I feel that same confusion as well. But I only acquired that title only after you become lost in space preceding the war with the Decepticons on a planet deemed Earth."
Orian suddenly looked up at her. "Earth?" he inquired curiously, "I read of that planet in the records. I really go there?" Rethalia smiled and gave a nod. "Sadly, the only reason you do is because Cybertron is destroyed as a result of our endless civil war. I had stayed on Cybertron to protect what we had left against the Decepticons." she explained in a gloomy voice, "It seems I hadn't much to stay for, considering we were all but an abandoned hope." something must have clicked within Orian, and his optics snapped wider as he looked up at Rethalia.
"Elita?" he questioned- as if he recognized her. Rethalia's optics gleamed in happiness and she smiled broadly.
"That was my previous form's name. I am Rethalia Prime now, but you were Optimus Prime before I. Now you're in stasis at Autobot base back on Earth. The reason deludes me for now, but you must return with me so I may figure why this is." she was basically pleading with him, so caught up in her joy at seeing him that her former urgency to reunite with her mech was returning.
Orian stopped for a moment and then looked down before he touched his chassis to bring back the panels. "What is this?" he murmured as he found the Matrix of Leadership beneath the plates. Rethalia forced herself to keep concentrated when the artifact was exposed, keeping her processor from dwelling on the awe-inspiring object in her mate's chamber. "That is you Matrix of Leadership. The council granted me one as well after they made me a Prime." she opened up her own chassis plates to show him. Orian's optics found her Secondary Matrix and he slowly reached out. Before he could touch her however, his expression caught in an array of uncertainty, he pulled back and flicked his gaze up at Rethalia.
"You are telling the truth." he mused softly. Rethalia's optics lowered as she closed her chassis, shutting away the Secondary Matrix and its light. "Of course I was." she vented, coming closer to bring Orian's foreplate to her own, their faceplates hovering incredibly close. "Come back Optimus. We have been apart too long now, too many times. It is our calling that we stand together once again."
Orian was silent for a moment, his servos coming up to gently grab her bracers as she held them together. But then the whole room flashed bright white and Rethalia found herself whipped away once again as she had been before. Orian was yanked out of both servo and sight, causing her aching spark to seize. Things became distorted and elongated, sucking her through a void which scrambled her processor. When this spinning had ceased and Rethalia found her balance, she realized she was sitting back beside Optimus, her servo in his. She was panting from the vision, her spark racing as if it wished to escape its chamber.
Without warning, his digits squeezed. She jumped up and stood over him, holding tight to his grasp. He groaned and his helm rolled to the side, his piercing cerulean optics flickering. They finally came online and he peered around until his vision locked with her own.
"Elita?" he murmured groggily. His deep and familiar voice sent an icy chill down Rethalia's spinal cord.
"I am she. Or I was originally." she answered hesitantly, now holding onto his one servo with both of her own. He screwed his optics ridges inward and began to sit up despite the creaks and moaning of his plates. Rethalia hurriedly helped him and kept her grip on his shoulderbolts, their faceplates aimed for each other. "My designation is Rethalia Prime now. After you went missing, I was appointed as the next Prime and I've spent decacycles now looking for you." her voice had become hard, her optics dipping into a deeper sorrow.
"What has transpired since my absence?" he inquired as he lifted a servo to hold his cranial unit, his legs swinging over the side of the table. "Your old comrades have returned to Cybertron to fight the remaining Decepticons there. They keep in contact with my contingent here on Earth, as we had volunteered to stay behind and watch over this planet until they could return again." Rethalia reported, "After your disappearance, my searching has brought you back here." Optimus gave a low groan of effort as he finally stood, Rethalia aiding him before she wrapped her arm around his waist to keep him steady. He lifted an arm to lay across Rethalia's shoulderbolts in acceptance of her being beside him.
"How many years?" he inquired seriously. Rethalia didn't answer right away, half of herself afraid to do so. Optimus had only just awoken, so was it fair to him to place such information on his already endless list? The solemn expression on his faceplates was enough to hold her glossa for, and the hesitance in her spark only added to it. Optimus' side of their bond was slowly coming to life, carefully traveling Rethalia's essence and relearning her every contour. Suppressing a shiver, Rethalia knitted her optic ridges, "Optimus, maybe it isn't the right time-"
"How many Rethalia?"
"Twenty." Rethalia blurted before she could stop herself.
Optimus sighed and sagged against her. "Twenty too many. The other Autobots must figure me deadsparked. Rethalia, we must tell the others I am still functioning." he turned down to her and she gave him a concerned look. Optimus was still leaning greatly against her, causing her to question his ability to meet with the others at the moment. Could it be better for him to hold him in the medbay until Sunraider could examine him and clear him for action? His steady influence on her spark swayed her processor when she felt his usual strength breaking through the sluggish fatigue, and she vented a sigh. Her lip plates pulled into a smile and she lifted her servo to cup his cheekplate.
"You perhaps may be the only Autobot I know to wake from decacycles long of stasis and wish to reestablish yourself to the warriors." she chuckled and Optimus gave her one of his vent-taking grins. "Our peers on Cybertron will recognize your revival, rest assured. I am merely overjoyed that you have returned Optimus." they drew back their arms and the mech brought his sparkmate to him, hugging her close as he tenderly kissed her. She held him as close as their armor would allow, reveling in his company. Her own response to his kiss was a hungrier passion, driving their bond to flare to life and burn as a blinding blaze.
"Don't leave us again." she ordered as sternly as she could once they had separated. Optimus brought up his servos to hold her cranial unit in place, keeping them from completely coming out of contact. Rethalia's frame longed for her mate's, but he kept them in place, not allowing their concentrations to be obscured.
"I vow I will do all I can to do just that. And with our sparks united once again, I know there will no evil that may overcome our light." he rumbled against her. Rethalia smiled and raised herself on her toelinks to steal another kiss from Optimus, the mech helpless to do anything but give her a similar embrace. The Primes apprehensively disconnected, their plates still warm, and they shared a lengthy gaze. When the clicks had passed, Rethalia irritably reminded herself that they had tasks to accomplish and not much time to do so in. Optimus must have noted the change in her optics, for he sent her an understanding smile and pulled back.
It was clear her sparkmate must have been weakened from his long stasis, for he relied heavily on her support as they exited the room. Once again a heeding tone in the back of her processor warned her that her mech wasn't in the best condition and could collapse at any moment. Nonetheless, Optimus refused turning back and they steadily made their way toward the main communications room, where Sunraider had informed her leader of an incoming call from Cybertron. On their way, it was immediately evident that Rethalia had failed to return her SIC's message, and she mentally winced. The medic would not be impressed at her leaders' disregard of her authority. One command was all she had given them: Stay in the medbay.
~Sunraider, this is Rethalia.~ the Prime comlinked to the awaiting femme.
~Rethalia, I'm glad to hear from you. How is Optimus doing?~ a cheery response. So far.
~Well. Very well actually. I wished to message you over a certain event that has happened...~
~I see...would you mind holding on a nanoclick Rethalia?~
Before the black and fuchsia Prime had the opportunity to speak, filtered voices and sounds came through Sunraider's comlink system, her forgetful processor neglecting the fact that Rethalia could hear every byte and wasn't quite put on hold.
~For Primus sake, Flashfall and Silverlight can you two put Boltstreak down?! You're going to give the poor mech a sparkattack! No!...What?...no you can't paint Metallooper pink! I swear by the AllSpark if you two short out Windripper's motor circuit network again, I'm going to kick you both in the throat!~
Not for the first time did Rethalia find herself frightened by the wrath of her medic comrade. Had she originally planned the femme would take on her mentor's ferocious attitude, Ratchet may never have been appointed by Rethalia to teach the impressionable young Cybertronian.
~Sunraider, I-~
~Don't you dare Flashfall, I will sedate you where you stand! Metallooper, get Silverlight off the ceiling beams! By the Matrix, I'm raising a hoard of sparklings here!~
~Sunraider, I'm telling you to not overreact when I arrive.~
~Why? What's going on?~
The comlink between them cut, sending Rethalia into private silence with her mate. They wobbled together passed the berth quarters and onward by the energon refueling space. In time, they made it where they were headed, and Rethalia sighed in relief when their destination came into view. Everything was so surreal, as if it weren't truly happening and this day seemed as a glitched memory file. Greeting Optimus with the others was settling his place here in iron. It would mean that Rethalia wasn't hallucinating and he had truly returned again.
A spacious room widened before their path, reaching out in a drafty expanse and giving them a freer feel. Proximity changed drastically from the narrow hall to the communications area, certainly overwhelming the languid mech Prime for a click or two. Rethalia stopped them both a the entrance to allow him his time to adjust, but in doing this, she would be exposing the both of them to those gathered.
Sunraider hadn't been the first to appear, as Rethalia had predicted, but instead Steelrunner showed his faceplates as he tread across the ground level. Higher up were landings that were connected by balconies along the perimeter of the walls, with a main structure at the center that protruded deeply into the middle of the room. Above it displayed the massive viewing monitor currently scattered with various information and maps. Sunraider was manning the large device, with Metallooper standing beside her...covered in pink paint. It was difficult not to laugh at the sight of the mech's navy armoring splashed with a neon rose color. And from the stormy expression decorating his faceplates, as well as his crossed arms, he did not seem a happy 'Bot.
The twins responsible for his new touch-up were off in the corner, tied up together via energon rope, their lip plates gagged. Windripper stood guard over them while Boltstreak and Scrapheat remained off in their own corner, comparing weapons and shooting harmless jibes at one another.
Steelrunner halted where he was and lifted his faceplates at the two Primes standing in the doorway. It took a single astrosecond for the sight to register for him before his optics widened and he dropped the compad in his servo.
"Pr-Prime! Optimus Prime! You're here!" all those in hearing distance snapped away from whatever it was they had been doing to aim their attention at Steelrunner and the arriving Primes. Rethalia set a servo on Optimus' tank to keep him close in case her peers became too excited, but he lightly pushed away her digits and raised himself up straighter. Optics stretched at seeing their noble mech leader's resurrection, the tiny sound of seven palpable sparks thrummed in the soundless roar.
Sunraider was the first to make a move out of any of them, breaking the chilling still as she made her way to the railing and directed her sights down at her former leader standing in the doorway beside her current one. Her lip plates hung agape and her optic slips remain stuck in her utter shock. The others were just as inanimate, leaving their leader and her sparkmate to attempt shattering this picturesque moment. Rethalia laid a servo on Optimus' arm, her scanning gaze taking in all those around her before she made a sound.
"This is why Sunraider." she called out to the femme at the rails. Sunraider's vividly green paint flashed when she jerked up, the pieces on the sides of her helm twitching as they often did in her surprise or anxiety. Beneath the stupor, Rethalia knew there was a fire building inside the medic's smaller frame. It was only a matter of time before the amazement would fade, leaving only the aggravation behind. "Nonetheless, I wished to introduce you all to Optimus Prime properly; without holograms, stories, or com file images." she gestured to the mech with her free servo, "This is Optimus Prime: proceeding I as the Autobot leader; successor to Sentinel Prime; raised in Iacon's third sector on Cybertron; veteran of the battle of Tyger Pax; and finally, my sparkmate."
Each Cybertronian hurried forward to shower the mech with more questions than he could process at one time. He became flustered when they attacked him, gathering around as a huddled group. Flashfall and Silverlight had somehow escaped from their corner and were now alongside their comrades in throwing one comment after the other at the Prime. Rethalia tried keeping close to his side, making sure they didn't overwhelm him too badly. He had only been free from the medbay for mere clicks and his processor was already being ransacked. She stepped in to ward them off, but her voice couldn't quite reach over the noise of theirs.
"Back off the Prime, all of you! For Primus sake, he's still recovering." Sunraider bellowed. Noise dwindled as the lasting echoes of her command rang long into the air. The fembot was standing at the aft of the mob, her arms locked on her hipbolts and her expression venomous. Though she had been thrown off by Prime's awakening, as they all had, she was still protective of her patients. The Autobots gave the mech and his mate some room, however they kept within a good few feet from him, unwilling yet to move off completely. Sunraider nodded in acknowledgment to Rethalia, and the femme to her CMO in return. "Alright, now that things are settled..."
Rethalia held her servo open at the beginning of the line of her warriors, preparing to name them each off in turn. "This is Windripper, our tactical pilot and engineer." the crimson femme nodded her helm and Optimus gave her a dip of his own before Rethalia went on. "Our ground assaults, Boltstreak and Scrapheat." the black and yellow mech grinned widely at his designation, while his forest-green peer flicked his mandible up at Optimus in greeting. Optimus was polite in providing a smile for them. "Metallooper, our communications officer and sniper," Rethalia pointed out the currently molted blue and pink mech, "and our twins Silverlight and Flashfall. They perform a multitude of tasks around base and the battlefield."
When they were mentioned, Silverlight beamed while his sister ducked her helm into her shoulders bashfully. Optimus respectfully noted their presence and leaned down to Rethalia's audio. "They are not similar to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe I hope." he murmured humorously. Rethalia sighed beside the joke, "If only." and he pulled away, a slightly concerned hint in his handsome faceplates.
"The scout of our group, Steelrunner." Rethalia tilted her crest to the burnt-orange Cybertronian, who wiggled his digits in an awkward wave. Sunraider was next, and Rethalia hesitated in introducing her, finding her facial expression to be off-putting. "And this is...Sunraider, our chief medical officer and my second in command."
"Ah, I see. Such duty to hold upon one 'Bot." Optimus noted. A single servo came up behind Rethalia and settled on her shoulderbolt, startling her. "I do pray you have taken well care of my sparkmate in my absence." his public show of affection was rare, and Rethalia couldn't help but fumble for a nanoclick in a response. Sunraider didn't seem to mind it as much, and in fact, her lip plates stretched wide and a chuckle vibrated her frame. "Why of course Optimus, I couldn't leave her for herself with these overgrown younglings, could I?" the two fembots shared a laugh while Optimus smirked in amusement and the others stared at their leaders incredulously.
Laughter felt nice to experience after so long of frowning, but as Rethalia knew far too well, they had to move on. To do this, she asked Sunraider to start the com feed with those on Cybertron. The fembot complied easily enough, and she gracefully made her way up to the control panel, Metallooper once again by her side. It didn't take long before the video was up and waiting for a connection through the other side. Twenty years had done well for human technology, allowing the Cybertronians to connect freely with their peers over the vast distance from Earth to Cybertron. Rethalia hadn't even the ability to comment on the improvement to Optimus before Bumblebee's faceplates came over the screen, his profile kind and welcoming. "This is Cybertronian headquarters Alpha Nova-1, are you receiving?" he greeted.
"Loud and clear Bee." Sunraider answered back. The yellow scout leaned closer upon seeing his fellow Autobots, the bustling scene behind him becoming covered by his sunny armor. "Omega Centauri, what have I the fine honor of speaking with you all about?" the accent of old he bared in his speech triggered Optimus' digits to tighten around Rethalia's. She squeezed back with the tingle of sweet reminiscence filtering through their bond. They then walked forward, keeping him just out of the range of the camera.
"Bumblebee, we hailed Alpha Nova-1 to relay important information with you." she announced, appearing on the screen in the far bottom right corner. Bee's optics found Rethalia in an instant, worry now marring his features. "Is there something wrong? Did Soundwave attack again?"
"Yes and no. I have personally dealt with our leading adversary already. That is not the reason we requested your signal," she backed away and gave Optimus the chance to step up, "but because of this."
Bumblebee's optics opened to where Rethalia feared they may tear themselves.
The still was instantaneous, the young figure in the video feed so motionless that he appeared made of ice. His lip plates continuously opened and closed while he struggled for something to say. The only sound at the moment was the whirring of vents and the crowd beyond the scout's body. His servos gripped the communications hub he sat before and he jutted his faceplates at them, getting close as possible as if he doubted his own optics.
"Opt-Optimus! Optimus P-Prime!" he eventually managed to exclaim, "I can't believe what I'm seeing!"
Movement started behind him and before another spark could beat, a good ten Autobots jumbled all around Bumblebee and shoved their faceplates together to try to get a view at the screen. They all seemed as shocked as their younger counterpart, who's body at the moment was compressed between other metallic frames of all shapes, colors, and sizes. Arcee was there, with Inferno, Ratchet, Prowl, Ultra Magnus, Hound, and many others as well. Poor Bee was left squeezed and smashed beneath them all, his sunny armoring barely visible anymore. Optimus' designation came up in rounds, echoing over and over as more and more 'Bots expressed their surprise and joy. Questions such as "how?" and "when?" and "what happened?" came up on more than one occasion. Rethalia could feel her mate's overwhelmed essence, but looking at him now, he wore an incredible smile with his servos raised in an attempt to calm the volley of inquiry.
They all chuckled and the mech Prime looked across the screen, taking in each mech or fembot carefully one by one. "Greetings my old friends. I see you all haven't changed." he commented in a warm rumble. Bumblebee shoved his way back to the front of the group and shimmied closer to the screen. Here, he was able to shove away most of the others and get a proper sight of the base again.
"It's amazing to see you back again Optimus! How in Primus' good name did you come back?" he demanded happily. Those alongside Rethalia must have wondered the same thing, as they focused their sights on their former leader as well. He himself paused in his answer, his expression thoughtful. The memories of their encounter in his awakening flooded between them, causing a zinging electricity up Rethalia's spinal relay. It caught her off guard when he twisted around to her and motioned her forward, placing a servo around her waist when she was beside him again.
Their grips on one another stay sturdy and strong, their fear at losing one another freshly raw, even as they stood side by side. "It was my sparkmate's doing." he responded simply, "She is indeed a fantastical creation, whom I owe everything to."
Bumblebee switched between the two sparkmates, his features bright. "So what are we going to do now that you're back Optimus? Does this mean you are going to lead us again?" Bee suddenly questioned, breaking their moment. Optimus went rigid under Rethalia's digits and the room fell into a tense quiet. Rethalia's joyed mood suddenly weakened as the recognition entered her processor bit by bit. That's right, she thought. Optimus is back, therefore he deserves the right of leadership.
A servo came around and slapped the back of Bee's helm, the hissing voice of Arcee too low to understand clearly. The yellow mech winced for a moment before he became horrified and locked on Rethalia mid-floor. "Oh, Rethalia, I'm so sorry, I meant no disrespect..." he trailed off and Rethalia looked up at him from staring at her peds, her thoughts swirling at a hundred miles per hour.
"Of course not Bumblebee, I take no offense." she assured him with a smile plastered on her lip plates. Her spark was puttering pitifully at losing the position of commander over the Autobots, which she had enjoyed so much. However, the relief was there as well, coming from the fact that she wouldn't be required to carry the weight of so many on her shoulderbolts any longer. Optimus deserved this. He was made for this position. And she told him this through their private connection when he prodded her side of their bond in questioning, his touch full of worry.
"No. I will not be leading." Optimus announced, catching everyone's attentions again. The silence was met with flabbergast, no being possibly expecting this answer. The mighty Prime held his gaze calmly while taking the time to study those on the screen. None dared speak for at least the first click, Rethalia Prime among them. She herself remained stunned into a dumber numbness, as if she hadn't the ability of speech anymore. There was no explaining exactly what she was feeling at the moment, but it was apparent that a certain disappointment had arisen in her at knowing her mate was not to take back his place as head of the Autobot faction once again.
"But Optimus, you have the right to do so." she insisted, reaching over across his body to grab his arm, forcing him to look down at her. Optimus did not pull away from her touch, nor did he show emotion toward her outburst. Instead, he shook his helm and cupped her cheekplate, "You didn't let me finish." he lifted himself to stand tall and noble, his frame showing no sign of the former fatigue he'd experienced before. "I will not lead alone. Rethalia Prime has the same right as I to lead. As a Prime she is bestowed responsibility to do so. And I am in need of the assisted guidance, for Earth must have changed in my absence."
Rethalia, uncertain how to respond, stood quietly in trying to hide her expression behind her blank mask. The Autobots on the screen watched her expectantly, as well as those now standing in the room around them, maybe believing she would deny his request. His optics were locked on hers, using their connection to wordlessly beg she stay at his side where she belonged. So long had they been separated, and so long now had they never the chance to lead such a large group together. The task was both flattering and daunting to consider. She saw but only Optimus, using him as a solid pillar of focus where she could feel her processor burning on fumes and threatening an impending reboot.
Finally collecting herself, Rethalia swallowed any lubricant on her glossa and took her lasting moments to stare her mate hard in the optic. Where was she in right to accept these terms? Then again, who was she to refuse one of the last Primes- the only mech Prime? But there was support there in his grasp, in the way he held her. And there always would be. That was the deciding factor for her in this aimless inner debate.
Giving a grin, Rethalia dipped her helm and spoke, "I accept. Optimus Prime, I will co-lead with you over the Autobot faction." she decided with a calm tone. He gave one respecting nod and returned her gaze, his own full of relief. Love and pride built between them, ever growing stronger as they battled each orn and outlasted the personal strife of all that was life. Optimus was forced to break their link however to turn back to Bumblebee and the others, Rethalia following his lead with his servo still set around her waist.
"We have much to continue with, my old friends. However, I'm afraid our connection can only suffice for so long without Decepticon detection. I leave with you now with one say: Until all are one and the final Autobot spark has ceased life, we will fight. For Cybertron. For Earth. For our homes." he then placed a fist over his chassis, atop the Autobot symbol he bore in all its gleaming might. The scuffed and scratched surface of his painting did nothing but add to his honored sight that continued to inspire thousands over. Bumblebee was first to return the gesture by saluting in the traditional Earth way to his newly revived leader. Those around both the scout and Primes in turn gestured their farewells and gave one another a respectful stretch of quiet. Then the screen went black.
Optimus dropped his arm, as did the gathered of the room. He proceeded to turn to everyone and address them with a firm tone. "Autobots, Rethalia," he moved his servo from her waist to knit his digits with hers, "today I have been given a second chance by all of you at life. I hope my future here on Earth will be as experiencing as the prior time." he squeezed Rethalia's servo as signal to leave, "And I hope as much for all of you as well. May Primus be with us all."
Optimus and Rethalia discreetly exited the room and headed to seclude themselves in the back area where Optimus had first been revived. They walked the floor and slipped up to side by side on the operating table, already deep in catching up on their time spent apart. It put a warmth in Rethalia's frame to hear the basso of her sparkmate's voice, and to feel his unyielding touch again. As they sat now, Rethalia could barely process clearly, for her spark cried out so desperately for her other half. It hurt so much, but at the same time, she was unwilling to take the risks in his injured state. For now, she would listen and drink in every bit her mate had to offer
"...I had then been approached by the Council, as their decisions regarding my occupational future among them had finally been decided. The Matrix was to be placed upon me: one who was undeserving...one who merely wished for but the safety and peace of his home world. And thus, I became the Prime you see before you." Optimus continued with a steady and soothing finish, explaining the story of receiving the status of Prime those long vorns ago. How distant it seemed now, when she contemplated about it. But Rethalia already had been told this, and yet hearing it from Optimus himself once more was far better than any passed along story by those who fought beside her.
"You miss Cybertron greatly love, don't you?" she asked him, noticing the sad edge of his expression as he gazed into the distant nothing. Optimus moved his faceplates upward at the ceiling, his mask removed to allow his conflicted expression to show. "I do, of course." this caused Rethalia to frown in slight depression, a feeling of longing for their home hitting her as well, "However," Optimus twisted to look down at her, "Earth is now our second home. It deserves no less than that of the life-giving strive for peace that we have given in the name of Cybertron in the past." their holds on one another strengthened and Rethalia leaned in closer to him to offer both physical and astral comfort. "Leaving this planet to the Decepticons was a mistake made by those who sought nothing but a flourishing and insured future for their race. It was only after destruction that they saw the error of their ways."
This still did not settle well with Rethalia, whom had known of this past action made by the humans not long after Ironhide's termination and Sentinel's betrayal. "Why had they sent us to exclusion in the first place? Did they not understand only we could save them from the Decepticons?" she questioned. Optimus sat back and thought about her comment before placing a considerate set of incredible blue orbs on her. "Humanity is a fairly young species. They've accomplished much in their short time, though we continuously consider them primitive. We must give them more confidence. They've much to discover." he answered. His mate mused over this information and allowed herself to lay against Optimus, who was subtly adjusting to make her more comfortable the closer they became.
"Considered primitive or not, humanity and the planet of Earth are two things we now consider our duty. We mustn't let Soundwave prevail or it could mean the end of not only human race, but the freedom of the sentient universe as well." she reported grimly. It was true that Optimus had only been conscience for not a long amount of time, but the sooner he was to be told of their current situation, the better their outcome would be. It provided better time for his planning and an opportunity for them to keep his resuscitation as secretive as possible. Their advantage of surprise was a valuable one.
"So Soundwave is the new Decepticon leader. Starscream must have perished." Optimus voiced his thoughts with a dark tone. Rethalia took her turn to look down at the floor, her old wound buzzing in phantom pain. She knew it was repaired and well on its way of recovery, but she couldn't help the memory from crossing the front of her thoughts. "Howlback was destroyed by myself soon before we found you. Because of this, I now fear Soundwave will be even more optimistic about finding myself and this base in wrecked shambles." Rethalia's digits instinctively tightened on Optimus' at the possibility of losing such a battle when her mate had only recently be revived.
"You destroyed Howlback alone? That must mean Soundwave was there as well." Optimus assumed softly. Rethalia nodded and took his servo with the both of hers. "I had defeated him then as well thankfully. However, I still am unsure of what I am to do Optimus. I cannot afford another loss of a Cybertronian or human life." their sights met, "But Soundwave is far different from Megatron. He has constantly been studying his leaders and adversaries in silence for so many vorns that he seems able to predict each and every move we make." she paused, "In your lengthy stasis, it is not a wonder you are not yet informed of this."
Optimus simply flickered his optics around her profile, assessing the smallest of sights on her faceplates silently. He then acted to pull her into his lap, laying her helm on his chassis and setting his own atop the crown of her crest. "We will find a way. We are Primes are we not?" his broad front trembled with his words and Rethalia curled against him in his offered strength, taking in his presence with a thirsty spark, "We have been through battles time and time again, so I see no reason we cannot face Soundwave as well." Rethalia balled one servo into a fist and took a moment to collect herself before she began tracing random doodles across his crosshatched armor.
"I was in shutdown only because I'd had a malfunction with the ship following an attack made by a rouge Decepticon ship." Optimus murmured when their tense bond was beginning to pulse uncomfortably in Rethalia's chassis, "It lost power and I was forced to shut off my systems to conserve energy. I always had faith my comrades would find me again." but Rethalia still was unsure. Even with Optimus back, could they defeat Soundwave? He was different than Megatron; more matriculate and assessing. There was more to Soundwave than met the eye, meaning he was as unpredictable as his former Seeker commander before him- maybe more so. And with Reflector salivating at the chance to discover the Autobot stronghold, there wasn't a single astrosecond to waste. They would have to make a move, and quickly.
Rethalia tried greatly to find comfort in Optimus' words, but all she could do was tilt her cranial unit backwards and press her metal lips to Optimus'. She could no longer hold herself back from tasting the sweetness of her Prime, or the feel of his amazing essence intertwining with her core. His strong arms wrapped around her, maybe anticipating when she was to make her move. Now, they both sit in each other's embrace, doubting if they were to part again. Their frames stay hot and buzzing with an energy they had not known since their youthful days as cyberling lovers back on Cybertron. Then things had been simpler, with Orian and Ariel as dockworkers and the Great War to never have started. What she wouldn't give to return to those orns. And yet, at the same time, it would appear the war had only strengthened their connection and made them better Cybertronians. She knew where her place was in this new world.
A warrior's duty was to prevail- to protect the values of the innocent. And a warrior was never to back down from any challenge facing them; they were never to step away from darkness' ailing victims. Fear was a word best left for the wind. And yet there was the nervousness that Rethalia still felt in her tanks at the mention of Soundwave's capabilities. But here, reunited with Optimus, she couldn't help swelling with hope that they held a chance over their enemies. Just his presence was awe-inspiring. Perhaps they could win this war. Their chances were rising with each beat of Optimus' spark. 'One step at a time' as the humans would say.
So many memories, here and on Cybertron... So many times had they prevailed simply by supporting one another on the great war field as Elita One and Optimus Prime, commanders of the Autobot faction. Here, they never fought before as a pair on Earth soil. She could not wait again to make more memories and revel in the might of her sparkmate. Then, it had been an art when they went to war. And now shouldn't be any different.
"Why should anything change?" Rethalia wondered out loud as she pulled but inches from her mate's faceplates, "We are here and now. Together. Fighting as the protectors of both our homes. Until we feel no spark beating in our other, I will fight."
"And so shall I. Through the end of time itself." he vowed before her, taking her close again.
We are one.
Here's a little fact for your guys:
Originally, this was my very first FanFiction I'd ever written.
Essentially, it was terrible.
Yeah.
So, after working through part 1 of OTSH, I improved upon this piece,
and brought it here for all of you :)
It truly makes my day when you guys review, favorite, follow, or even read my work...
Absolutely, I couldn't be happier ^_^
Thank you, all of you.
~Scarlet Nightmare