There was a resounding thud in the confined space of an attic as the entrance hatch was pushed open. It was quickly followed by the rapid sounds of coughing as a tall and lean brown haired teen poked his head up. "Jesus...," he muttered as he hoisted himself into the space.
By memory, he reached above him and located a simple string that, much to his relief, was able to turn on the old light bulb. He had to crouch in order just to stand as he started making his way into the darker parts, along the narrow trail that had been made to get through the boxes.
"Dude," a voice piped which caused Sam to stop and look back. There, a dark skinned teen with short dreads was looking around at everything. "Sam, buddy," he snickered, "why the hell does your family have so much junk?"
"Shut up Miles," Sam snapped as he went back to his quest. "Just come and help me."
"What's the magic word!" came from below as Miles climbed in.
"I don't think he even knows the word, Raf," Miles laughed.
Sam just rolled his eyes as he thought, 'Now where is it?' He moved deeper into the attic, barely able to see much of anything but just enough to identify what he was looking for. "Ah ha!" he yelled as he spotted an old travel chest in the corner. "Miles, I think I found it!" he called as he started making his was over to it.
The old chest had a layer of dust on it. Without much thought, Sam blew some of it off only to instantly regret it when he sneezed very loudly.
"Jeez," Miles commented as he came into view. "Sounds like you sneezed out a lung."
"Feels like it," Sam croaked as, this time, he used his hand to cover his mouth and nose as he brushed off the rest of the dust. A small plaque, tarnished now by many years, became visible along with the inscription of 'James Archibald Witwicky.'
"So this it?" Miles asked as he shuffled his way over.
"Yep. Here, help me pick it up." Sam then moved to one side of the chest as the other teen moved to the other end.
"Surprise there isn't boxes packed on top of this thing like everything else," Miles grunted as they lifted the heavy chest from the bottom.
"Dad said-" Sam responded as he struggled with the other end, "that the chest is pretty old so any boxes on top of it could break it."
"Must be some good stuff then," Miles laughed when he started walking backwards as the two of them made their way out of the attic.
"That's what I'm hoping!"
The two of them somehow managed to move the trunk without knocking down boxes or falling as they brought it down the ladder. From there, Miles was able to take all of the trunk as Sam put the ladder back up.
When he went into his room, Miles had placed the chest on the floor at the end of the bed and started examining it. Raf had stopped whatever it was he was doing on this laptop from the center of the bed and had repositioned himself to sit crossed legged at the end. The tan skinned teen looked up when Sam entered, pushing his glasses up. "Do you think you'll find anything good for your presentation in Mr. Hosney's class?"
"As I told Miles," Sam said as he leaned on his door frame. "I hope so. I mean, I've had my presentation about my ancestor ready for a month but I thought it would be cool to have some things from an explorer during that time period."
"Well good luck with that," Miles interjected as he looked up. "It's locked."
"No shit Sherlock," Sam responded back with a deadpan look. As he went over to his desk, he added, "I have a key. My Dad gave it to me months ago when I first found out about our 'Ancestor Project.'"
He opened one of the middle drawers where he had placed it all that time ago, but paused when on top of everything there was a photo. It was a close up of an older woman and a younger Sam. The woman was kneeling down and holding the young boy close. Both of them were smiling widely as they stared at the camera.
Slowly the young man picked up the frame, looking closely at the woman. He studied the smiling wrinkles and the oval features of her face. Her auburn hair was loose, blue eyes bright, and smile even brighter. He remembered her merry laughter and soothing touch which caused his throat to become tight. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His body suddenly felt heavy as he tried to fight the burning sensation in the back of his throat and eyes.
"Um... Sam?" a quiet voice asked that drew him back to the present. He looked over at his friends to see their worried expressions. He quickly cleared his throat.
"Sorry," he croaked. He took a shaky breath as, instead of placing the photo back in the drawer, he put it on top of the desk where it had originally belonged. "Just hard sometimes, ya know?" he added with a half hearted shrug before he looked for the key again.
He didn't hear his friends say anything else as he found the key and came back to join them. He took a seat next to Miles.
He wasn't expecting the sudden clap on his back and yelped. "You don't have to worry though," the dark skinned boy said as he moved his hand to squeeze one of Sam's shoulders. "Raf and I always have your back. Right, Raf?"
The younger boy gave thumbs up and smiled widely as he nodded his head.
Sam huffed a little at his friend, but none the less was thankful for them. "Thanks guys," he whispered. He looked at the trunk again, his chest feeling lighter than before, and gave a short sigh. "Alright, let's see what we got!"
Quickly, but carefully, Sam opened the chest and all the boys gathered around. "Dude! Look at all this shit!" Miles laughed as he reached out to grab a tunic that lay on top. Sam immediately smacked his hand away.
"Be careful!"
Miles put a hand on his chest and looked humorously offended. "How can you tell me to be careful? I have the hands of an artist, dude!"
"And the mentality of an eight-year-old," Raf quipped. The teen barely had time to dodge a comic book that came soaring at him.
"Hey!" he yelled as he glared at Miles. "That could have hurt me!"
"That would have been the point Boy Genius!" Miles retorted back, referring to him to nickname due to the fact that they younger boy had skipped some grades.
"Ladies! If you please!" Sam interjected just to stop the incoming fight. It worked as both teens turned to glare at him. The brunette just rolled his eyes as he kneeled and started carefully sifting through the trunk.
"Woah," he whispered as he pulled out an old fashioned telescope.
"Wow that looks so cool," Raf awed as Sam handed it to him after his inspection.
"Dude," Miles pondered as he looked when Sam pulled out a journal. "Do you think your dad would let you sell some of this stuff to help pay for your car?"
"Oh hell no," Sam responded as he started to open the journal. "He would totally flip his shit. As it is, I am really going to have to convince him to allow me to bring just one item. These have been in our family for generations and my Dad is very proud of them." He flipped through the pages as he noted all the dates and captain logs before finding the page wanted to see. "And besides, who wants to buy a journal of a crazy guy?"
"Huh?" Miles and Raf both asked at they looked at him in confusion. Sam flipped the journal around and showed them the page full of strange symbols. They were written all over the place, big and small, with no pattern or any sort of sentence structure, and continued on as Sam moved more of the pages. It was nearly indescribable how they even look as some glyphs were sharp and others curved. Some were very well drawn and detailed while other just seems to be scribbled in haste. They became even more confusing as a good majority of it was overlapping each other, making the characters impossible to distinguish.
"Apparently," Sam continued as he closed the journal, "when James Archibald Witwicky went on his last voyage, he went insane. When I was doing research, the old medical records that I found said he spent the rest of his days in an asylum." He held up the journal. "Dad said we still had his last journal and that he had seen these symbols in it when he was going through the trunk a long time ago."
"The writing looks interesting," Raf commented as he held out his hand. Sam handed it over to him. "Was this insanity sudden?" the tanned skinned boy asked as he opened it. "Couldn't say," Sam responded with a shrug. "I couldn't get the full medical records. Apparently the asylum he was sent to burned down with them a few years after my great-great grandfather passed away. What I have is basically newspaper clippings and only the first medical report after they came back to America from the Arctic."
"Dude, that is so insane," Miles whispered as he read over Raf's shoulder. Sam left them to their examination as he returned to the chest.
Peering inside there were more journals and clothes. There were also maps and other instruments that sailors would use during that time. A few pouches laid inside as well. The teen picked up an elongated one and opened it to pull out a pair of old cracked glasses.
The brunette hummed as he pulled them out fully and held them up to the light with one hand. Instantly, he noticed that there were cloudy parts on both lenses. 'Must be dirty,' he thought as he reach out with this other hand to see if he could wipe it away. Only he immediately dropped the glasses when a jolt of cutting electricity that shocked his hand.
"Ow! Fuck!" he cursed as he cradled his hand near his chest.
"Sam, are you ok?" Raf quickly asked as he put the open journal aside and moved forward to his friend. Miles had also hopped off the bed and was standing over fair skinned teen to make sure he was alright.
"Yeah, just a really bad static shock I guess," Sam hissed as he shook off the string. He glared down at the glasses that had fallen into his lap. Cautiously, he picked them back up again and still saw that the white smudges were there.
"I was hoping to wipe off whatever was on the glasses," he added as he held them up to show the other two. "Seems to be part of the glasses though, or at least something hardened enough to stay."
"Maybe you can show the glasses in class," offered Miles just as Raf excitedly asked,
"Can I get my microscope and see what it is?"
Both Sam and Miles looked over at the other teen with raised eyebrows. "Dude," Miles responded, deadpan. "That is such a nerd thing to say."
Raf snapped something at him in Spanish as he grabbed a pillow and threw it at the other teen which caused the black haired boy to laugh and back off. With a huff, the younger teen looked at Sam. "I've been wanting to test my new microscope," he explained. "This seems like an awesome chance." He paused to grab the journal and held it up. "And maybe I can take some pictures of the journal and post them online. See if anyone out there knows anything."
Sam gave him a look curiosity, while something heavy like worry settled in his stomach. "You think so?"
"We'll never know unless we try!" Miles exclaimed as he jumped into the conversation.
"'We?'" Raf asked as he raised an eyebrow.
"Well duh," Miles drawled with an eye roll. "Who else here has a high resolution camera so people on the internet can see every detail."
The two brunette teens looked at each other. Sam could tell that Raf wasn't actually thrilled with it. Not because they didn't want Miles help but the teen could get a little over the top when it came to taking photos. Sam shrugged and commented, "He has a point Raf."
"True," Raf unwillingly conceded.
"Alright, it is settled then," Sam declared as he put the glasses away and stood up. "We'll convene back here in, say, 30 minutes?" The other teens nodded.
"Alright! Operation 'Figure-out-Sam's-ancestor's-crazy-drawings' is a go!" Miles exclaimed as he started to put on his shoes.
"Miles...," Raf groaned.
"Miles, that name is kind of lame," Sam agreed.
Clearly offended, the teen stood up and glared at them. "Well I don't see you two coming up with any names," he huffed.
As Raf started bickering with the older teen, Sam grew quiet as he looked down at the bed where the journal still laid open. He stared at the drawings for a moment before an idea came to him. "'Operation Glyph!'" he suddenly interrupted, which caused the two others to stop and look at him questioningly.
"What?" Miles asked.
"Well... My ancestor drew these symbols right? And symbols are sometimes called 'glyphs.' So 'Operation Glyph.'"
It grew quiet in the room as Sam watched his friends process what he said. "Makes sense," Raf finally agreed.
"Hmmmm...," Miles mused as he closed his eyes and nodded his head. "I still like mine but yours will do."
Sam and Raf just both rolled their eyes.
'This is not how it supposed to be,' he thought. Around him was chaos. The city of Vos now laid in ruin; its once great factories and skyscrapers now charred and destroyed.
His men ran next to him as they rushed to find shelter from the seeker barrage that continued to come from above. Those less fortunate lay either dead or dying; soft moans of pain from those that clung to life. He longed to help his fallen brethren but the threats were still around and his men were counting on him to survive.
Yet seeing such sights made him feel sick and his spark heavy. His entire body was tired but still he pressed on with cannon in hand. He just wanted to stop and scream. He wanted to tell his men to help those that were calling out for assistance. He wanted so many things, yet he knew he couldn't. 'Is this the peace you spoke of?' he thought bitterly as he climbed over debris. 'This destruction?'
A high pitched sound from above brought him out of his thoughts, a sound he knew all too well. "Take cover!" he ordered, his deep voice carrying over the battlefield.
It was too late though as the first bomb landed behind them. His men there cried out as they were flung in different directions. He turned to look at the macabre sight, hoping that it wasn't as bad as he had heard. It was worse as half of his men were now gone and still he heard more noise from above. He grinded his denta together and forced his optics to remain operational even though he just wanted to shut them off from sight.
"Keep moving and take cover!" he forced out, his voice strained as he turned away.
In the past he remembered that many would have protested at leaving their fellow soldier behind. Now though, as if to point out the number of years of fighting and destruction, his men just followed his orders and ran. It was now a battle to live no matter the cost.
They scattered as best they could in the tight street but still it wasn't enough as the bombardment continued. There were sounds of explosions and screams that filled his audio receptors. He didn't think though, just continued to run and tried to encourage his men to do the same.
Ahead of him, one of his smaller men tripped. He knew he shouldn't but he stopped only for a moment to yank the bot upward and move him forward.
"Look out!" a voice called. He didn't have time to process the words as a sudden explosion went off nearly next to him and sent him flying into a close building-
With a sudden jolt Optimus Prime's optics shot on. His ventilation systems kicked online to try and cool him down as he stared ahead with wide optics and gasping for air intake. He then came to realize he was in a location he had never seen before. 'Where am I?' he thought frantically as he looked around at the darkened room. 'Was I captured?'
He pulled himself up from the recharge berth. Save the for the berth, there was a work station and, what appeared to be, an unguarded door that was not standard in prisons.
He transformed one of his arms into its gun forms and slowly got up to approach the door. 'I can't let my guard down with the Decepticons,' he thought as he brought up his face guard.
Just then a notice of a comm link communication came through. 'How would an Autobot communication get through Decepticon walls?'
He brought up his free servo and used it to press against the communicator on his helm. "Optimus Prime here," he murmured.
Before he could say anything on his current situation though, a voice, one he recognized as one of his second lieutenants, Jazz, said, "Optimus, we need you in the Flight Deck."
Optimus paused at the words, not making any sense to him. He was about to say something when it suddenly just clicked in place. He groaned in pain as recent memories came flooding back and staggered against the wall.
"Sir?" Jazz called.
"I'm fine," Optimus responded, feeling all out of sorts. "I will be there shortly. Optimus out." He closed the link before anything else could be said.
He leaned fully against the wall as he transformed his gun back into a hand servo and withdrew the face guard. He could feel his cooling fans shut off as his systems returned to normal. He shut off his optics as he got his processor together. 'I'm fine,' he reassured even though he didn't feel like it. 'It's over.'
He stayed that way for a moment. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened and, each time, he hoped it would be the last. He hadn't spoken to any of his men about what was going on; he didn't have time to focus on whatever was happening to him, nor did he feel that he should worry the others.
Once he was sure that he was ready, he turned his optics back on and slowly stood up straight. 'I need to stay focused,' he reminded himself as he left the room. 'There is no time to deal with this. We have to find the Allspark.'
He quickly made his way to the command center of the spacecraft. It wasn't much, just an old transport ship, but it had room enough for 5 bots and was good for deep space travel. They had been lucky to find this vessel back when the Great Exodus had happened on Cybertron. Such ships like this one were either in disrepair or had already been taken.
It wasn't long until he entered the flight deck. He was a little surprised to find everyone was gathered all around the star chart while Jazz was sitting and typing on the communication console, where the small screen was displaying an array of red characters. "What is going on?" Optimus inquired as he approached.
"Jazz has intercepted on open communication call," Ratchet, the team medic, responded as he unfolded his arms and faced Optimus.
"Autobot or Decepticon?" the leader pressed.
"Unclear," Jazz notified as he still typed. "There's an outer layer that is Decepticon but the origin stems from neutral Cybertronian. I can' make heads or tails of it, Big Bot."
"I say let Optimus give it a go," Ironhide, the team's weapon specialist, grunted. "He knows more about it then any of us."
There was a buzz of agreement from Bumblebee, their scout, as he looked between Optimus and the screen.
"Very well," the red and blue bot conceded as he started to approach the console. "Jazz?"
"All yours, Big Bot," Jazz laughed as he pushed himself away and out of the chair.
Optimus didn't bother taking a seat as he started going over the encryption. 'All very odd,' he thought as he went to work. 'I haven't seen this kind of code since Iacon.' He paused for a moment at the thought. 'If that is the case...'
He doubled his efforts. 'Iacon writer's liked to embed things in characters. If I can find the right combination...' As Optimus hit one last key, the transmission suddenly turned green in color and he pulled it up to the main console screen where the full message could be read.
"It's a map," Ironhide whispered in awe as he approached. In fact, all of his men had gathered closely around to get a better look. Optimus noted that Jazz and Ratchet had separated the farthest and as they came closer they both glanced his direction. They didn't say anything though as they focused on what was on the screen.
Bumblebee gave a loud whir sound as he pointed to the far left where it seemed to begin.
"It is Cybertron," Jazz agreed. "But wha' is this leadin' to?"
"Looks like a small galaxy not far from us," Ratchet replied as he pointed to the other end where it stopped. Bumblebee started chirping excitedly.
"Now hold on Bumblebee," Ironhide cut in as he looked at their youngest member. "I am not going to go and run after somethin' if we don't even know what it is!"
As discussion started around him, Optimus grew quiet as he continued to stare at the map. 'This looks familiar to me... Where have I seen this before?'
He closed his optic ridges as he drew deep into his memory banks. He tried not to dwell on some of the gruesome memories as he pushed further and further back until he finally was able to pinpoint it.
"The Allspark...," he whispered as he came back to the present and opened his optic ridges.
"Optimus?" Jazz inquired, being the closest to hear him.
The room became quiet as Optimus looked them all. "I have seen a part of this map before," he explained. "All of us here know that the Allspark was sent into deep space during the war. The plotted course was kept secret, even from myself. One of only a handful who knew of the course was Alpha Trion. When Iacon was attacked by the Decepticons, he sent out an encrypted message.
"We were only able to get a small portion of it but the Decepticons blocked the rest of the communications and proceeded to corrupt what little we had obtained." He paused and looked at the map. "I was only able to catch a small glimpse of the beginning of the map before it became completely destroyed." He then looked back at his men.
Bumblebee once again chirped excitedly.
"I wish Primus was smiling on us," Optimus replied sullenly. "But as I said, only a handful of bots knew and that information was not given freely."
"You mean that slagger Megatron," Ironhide hissed.
"That, or a trusted subordinate," Optimus agreed as he looked back at the map.
"You think that this has to do with his sudden disappearance?" Ratchet purposed.
"It must," the leader replied as he zoomed in on the sector were the end was. "He went missing shortly after the Allspark was sent off. With the map, he would have returned to Cybertron and finished the war."
"Then you're thinkin' somethin' happened to him?" Jazz asked.
"Very much so. This could be a distress message for the Decepticons to find." He manipulated the map until a small planet came up.
"Or somethin', or someone, else," Ironhide challenged as he folded his arm servos of his chest plate. "It could be a trap."
Optimus paused for a moment and then turned to look men. As he met each one of them in the optics there was a sudden sense of heaviness on shoulders and a sense of fear that nearly made him unable to speak. 'How can I nearly forget?' he thought. 'I can't lose anymore.'
He curled his hand servos into tight fists as he gently admitted, "I know this is a risk. It could be a trap. It could be anything. But if there is just a sliver of a chance that we can get out hands on the Allspark before the Decepticons can, then I will take it. But the possibility of danger is high-"
"Hate ta interrupt ya, Big Bot," Jazz chuckled as he stepped forward. "I'm havin' a feelin' that this is going to be one of ya 'last team up' speeches. Save ya words then, Optimus. Ya know I will follow ya, wherever that would be."
Bumblebee stepped forward next and gave a happy chirp as he brought up his arm servos and started doing short jabs. He then stood up straight and gave a curt nod.
"Jazz is right," Ratchet said as he straightened up. "And so are you, Optimus. If there is even a small chance that we can bring Cybertron back to life, no matter the risk, I, too, will take it."
Everyone then looked at Ironhide.
"Hey! Don't go making me look like the bad guy here!" the weapon specialist grumbled as he too stepped forward. "I was just sayin'. I never said I wasn't going with him!"
He glowered at everyone which caused Ratchet to sigh and roll his optics while Jazz and Bumblebee just snickered. Optimus took a moment to study his team. The heaviness in his body lessened while a feeling of gratitude and awe filled him. "Thank you," he murmured, humbled. When his men turned to look at him, he added a bit louder, "All of you. Thank you."
"There's no need to thank us," Ironhide countered. "We're all here for the same reason." Everyone nodded their heads in agreement, looking at him with soft smiles.
The corners of Optimus' lip plates tilted upward as he took a deep intake of air before letting it out. "Very well," he said as he looked back at the map.
That smile quickly went away though as he tried to find out more information about the planet on the screen. "Looks like we will be goin' in blind," Jazz remarked as he noticed the lack of information as well.
Optimus ground his denta together as he nodded his head. Quickly, his processor formed a plan. "We'll keep heading towards the planet," he started as he looked at everyone. "We will keep radar and our cloaking on to pick up any other signals and to avoid detection if we can." He paused at the next part, nearly too much for him to say.
"Bumblebee..," he continued as he looked at the scout. "When we are close enough, you will take one of the escape pods and go down to explore. See if you can pinpoint the exact location of the signal."
'I would go in your place,' he thought all the while as he met those soft blue optics. 'You're too young, but you are also the fastest and most agile out of all of us here.'
"If you do discover where it came from," he instead stressed. "Contact us immediately. Do not engage if you find any Decepticons. Am I clear?" The yellow bot nodded his head firmly as he chirped.
"Alright," Optimus breathed as he looked back at everyone. "Ratchet and Ironhide, help Bumblebee out with everything you think he will need. Jazz continue to guide the ship in accordance with the map. I will continue to look at the transmission and see if there is more to it."
A chorus of "Yes, Sir!" rang out in response.
Immediately the group broke apart. Bumblebee joined the medic and weapon specialist as they started to leave the room while Jazz took a seat in the pilot chair. Optimus watched as everyone did as they were told, before he situated himself at the communication console. Before he went to look back at the message though, he closed his optic ridges as he bowed his head and folded his hands to his lip plates.
'Primus, please be with us all.'
Hello friends! Welcome to the first story I am going to share with you all since I have picked up writing again! Am I nervous? Yes. But I am taking a chance and I hope you all like it. This is a Transformers story. In fact it is a rewrite of the first Bay movie and only one part of something MUCH bigger. That being said, even though this story is SET in Bayverse does not mean it is subjected by those rules. These stories would be a combination of canons from different universes and my own headcanons. Please respect that.