Introduction:
For anyone who doesn't know, this is a sequel. Obviously, I don't want to discourage you from reading any of my stuff, but I'd suggest you check out the first story, Many Voices, before reading this one. Thanks!
For those of you who have read Many Voices, welcome back! We're going to pick up just a couple decaorns after where we left off.
Hope you enjoy!
"Due to your associate's actions, we have entirely lost contact with the Kaon Council."
Orion nodded. "I know."
The echoes of his words faded into silence and he looked up from the Council floor at the mecha seated all around and above him.
"We entrusted you with the power you asked for, and the first thing you've done is let that gladiator take your following and overthrow a city-state, causing riots across the globe."
He hadn't asked for any of this.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Optimus Prime?"
Orion. It was Orion.
"I did not intend for this to happen."
He was lost. They were all staring at him accusingly, even Alpha Trion. Was he supposed to suddenly know everything? Why was he in charge now? Why was he suddenly responsible?
All of their plans were void now that Megatronus had left. A part of him—a large part—still couldn't believe that had happened. He didn't understand it—he knew Megatronus. They were friends.
"Your past intentions are irrelevant," Halogen said. "What are you going to do about the situation?"
"We are still making attempts to contact Megatronus." If Orion could just talk to him…
"That will not be enough."
It would never be enough. Orion hadn't been meant for this. He had never been a leader. He looked to Alpha Trion for help, but got only a blank stare in return.
"You shouldn't have let him leave in the first place," another Councilor spoke up.
As if Megatronus had ever answered to anyone but himself.
"I apologize."
"We need results. You have three orns. We expect some sort of measurable progress by then, or at least a cohesive plan. Otherwise there will be consequences."
They didn't dare arrest him, but the last time the Council had summoned him, they had threatened to arrest his friends.
At this point, there wasn't much he could do about that.
"I understand," he said, trying not to sound frightened.
"Now go. We have important matters to discuss."
Orion turned and walked out of the Council chamber, relieved that his audience had finished so quickly. Of course, it didn't change anything. Kaon was still in anarchy, his friends were still in danger, and he still had no idea what to do.
Mecha stared at him as he crossed the lobby of the Council Hall. Reporters approached him to try to speak with him, but he hurried past them and out the front doors, ignoring them.
Ironhide was waiting for him on the steps. The mech had returned the orn after Megatronus's departure, and had since declared himself Orion's bodyguard.
"More good news?" he asked.
"They want me to take Kaon back," Orion said. "But I can't do anything if Megatronus won't talk with me."
"And we don't have an army."
"Don't even suggest that."
"I can't imagine reclaiming Kaon without a fight, even if Megatron does decide to start talking to us again," Ironhide said. "Come on, let's get you home."
Orion sighed, watching a group of mecha further down the steps who were pointing toward him, talking to each other.
"I can't do this."
"Oh, shut up."
Orion followed Ironhide down the steps. His friend seemed to be in a bad mood, which was understandable under the circumstances. "As I've said before… I am sorry I didn't listen to you. If I had…"
"If you'd listened to me, Megatron would never have left the gladiator arena. I won't argue with that. But don't blame yourself. It's that lying glitch, Soundwave, who really did this. He must have known something like this would happen."
"I don't know," Orion said. "I still think I should have been able to see…"
Ironhide snorted. Orion knew he shouldn't be so down on himself—he knew it wasn't entirely his fault. But that knowledge didn't change his situation. He wished he could go back to being a librarian. He wished he had never started this—never taken that step—because he hadn't been prepared for the consequences. He had lost too many of his closest friends. Megatronus hated him, and he didn't even want to think about Elita. It had been such a very short time ago that it had seemed like some things were going to work out right, and that he'd had some control over the situation.
In order to avoid crowds, they took a roundabout way to Mirage's tower. No one had tried to attack Orion yet, but there were a lot of mecha in the city who resented him for becoming the Prime instead of Megatronus. He couldn't say he blamed them.
Inside the tower was chaos as usual.
Prowl and Red Alert came up to him before he'd even stepped out of the elevator.
"All right," Red Alert said. "Would you like the good news, the bad news, or the other bad news?"
"There's good news?" Ironhide said flatly.
"Well, the good news is bad news," Prowl said. "We got word from Kaon."
Orion nodded. "What was the report?"
"Anarchy!" Red Alert said.
Prowl glared at him. "No. Not anarchy. Megatron-archy. Megatron has managed to get things calmed down and is currently enlisting mecha from Kaon into an army. There's no doubt he intends to spread to other cities."
"That's definitely bad news," Ironhide said. "What's good about that?"
"Fewer mecha dying in the streets," Prowl said with a shrug. "For now, at least."
"And we've taken a prisoner," Red Alert said. "A spy from Megatron."
"Is that good news?" Ironhide asked.
"No." Red Alert snapped.
"We don't know he's a spy," Prowl corrected. "But it's highly likely. You'll no doubt want to interview him at some point, when you have time, of course."
Orion nodded. If only Soundwave were still around. It was amazing how much they'd relied on him and his abilities. It was difficult to trust anyone now, especially since Soundwave himself hadn't been trustworthy.
"Prime, sir!" a mech approached him from another direction. "We have a group of mecha from Tagan Heights wanting to see you. They want to know if you're supporting the Council or not. I wasn't sure what to tell them."
"Uh…" Orion said.
"Oh good, you're back," Mirage shoved his way through the rapidly-filling room. "Prime, this is going too far. If you can't control your mecha, I'm going to kick you all out of my tower if this keeps up."
Orion. Would they just call him Orion?
"Before you do anything else, I need to speak with you," Prowl said.
"This place is only safe so long as no one tries to bomb us from above!" Red Alert cut in.
"It's a madhouse in here," Mirage said.
'I need to…"
"Could you…"
"What should I…"
"…several things you need to address…"
"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Ironhide bellowed.
The room quieted.
"I have to fragging protect him from you lot more than from mobs in the streets!" Ironhide growled. "Back off! I'm taking him to his office and you can all slagging wait in line to talk to him one at a time."
Ironhide led Orion to his office and shut the door on the way out. Orion sat at his desk, which had been pushed away from the wall so mecha could sit on either side of it. It was strewn with datapads full reports and lists and memos. Orion wasn't even sure what it all was, much less what he should do with it.
Prowl would probably push his way to the front of the line somehow. At least then Orion would get that over with. Prowl, and then Red Alert, and then maybe he could have a few breems of peace to collect himself.
But when the door opened, it was neither of them.
Alpha Trion stepped into the room and shut the door behind himself, then approached the desk. Orion stood.
"Sit down," Alpha Trion said. "I need to speak with you."
Orion sat again and Alpha Trion perched in the seat across from him, raising an optic ridge at the messy desk in front of him. Orion started to speak, but his mentor cut him off.
"You, as you know, have been designated as a Prime, but that is merely the beginning of your journey."
Orion took in a deep vent. "I know."
"I had you write an essay on it some time back, I believe."
"Yes," Orion said, optics widening. "I remember. It was when you appointed me as your assistant. I thought it was a test of my research and writing skills…"
"I knew even then what you would become," Alpha Trion said. "That is why I wanted you as my assistant in the first place."
Orion was taken aback. "I… you knew? But how could you have known? This whole thing is some sort of misunderstanding. The Council was just trying to undermine Autobot by…"
"Is that what you felt on the Council floor when you swore to do Primus's will and protect the mecha of Cybertron?"
Orion looked down.
"Well?" the ancient archivist prompted.
"No."
"I didn't tell you before because I knew you would react like this. Humility is only a strength if you don't use it as an excuse to shirk your duties. You are Optimus Prime, or at least you will become Optimus Prime, the Last of the Primes. Do not question Primus's judgment on the matter."
Orion wasn't sure how to respond. He looked at his messy desk, thinking about all the things he was being asked to do, and all the mecha he needed to talk to and all the problems he didn't know how to solve. "I don't know if I can do this. I don't know how…"
"Well, what do you remember from that essay?" Alpha Trion asked.
Orion thought back. "Primes… spend a period of time training to receive the Matrix of Leadership. And the Matrix grants them the wisdom and knowledge of the Primes before them."
Alpha Trion nodded once.
"Then I must receive the Matrix. Once that happens, will I know what to do?"
"No," Alpha Trion said. "But it will help."
"Where is it?"
"The Matrix of Leadership has been lost."
Orion stared at him.
"No one knows where it is," Alpha Trion continued matter-of-factly. "Other than our most recent Prime, who would have had it when she offlined."
He didn't seem upset about that.
"But... I thought you knew where it was..."
"I didn't want anyone going on treasure hunts for it," Alpha Trion said. "So the official story is that I have it."
"How can I receive the Matrix if it is lost?" Orion asked.
"Think about it."
He'd said the previous Prime knew where it was. And in that case…
Oh.
Orion met Alpha Trion's optics. "We could find out where it is by consulting Vector Sigma."
"Yes," Alpha Trion said. "Of course, I don't have the key to Vector Sigma. Unfortunately, the key itself and the responsibility for its safekeeping belong to High Councilor Halogen."
Primus no…
"So I'd suggest trying to stay on his good side until you've completed your training and he is obliged to give it to you."
Alpha Trion wanted him to try and stay on the Council's good side?
"It's not ideal, but we must do whatever is necessary," Alpha Trion said. "And the Matrix is necessary."
Orion wasn't sure what to say.
"Of course, in order to do that, you must also be prepared, and I have no time in which to prepare you. Furthermore, there are things you must learn which do not fall under my area of expertise. So I have found a different teacher for you."
"Wait…"
"He will be here later this orn. Please be polite to him and don't let that paranoid monstrosity lock him up anywhere."
"Alpha Trion—"
"You must spend several joors every orn working with him if you want to be ready before it's too late. Time is of the essence."
"Several joors… but I can't…"
"It is your duty, and you must do it." Alpha Trion stood. "Now I need to get back to the Council Hall—"
"Stop!"
Alpha Trion stopped.
Orion took in a deep vent. "I can barely keep up with everything as it is, I don't know who to put in charge of what, everyone asks me questions I don't know how to answer and… I can't do this, Alpha Trion. I'm the wrong mech for this."
Alpha Trion sighed, setting a hand on Orion's desk, but not looking at him. "You're the right mech for this. I know you're struggling, but you can't let that stop you. Primus chose you. The whole Council knew it—none of us could deny it. You are here now for a reason. And you will figure things out. I will be in touch. Good orn."
And with that, he turned and walked from the room.
Orion wanted to scream. He hadn't asked for this, and he needed help, not more things to do and responsibilities to fill.
He gripped the edge of the desk, shuttering his optics and venting deeply to calm himself. Maybe he couldn't do it all, but he had to keep trying, at least a little longer.
He looked up again just in time for Prowl to come in.
Yoketron had lived in nearly all of Cybertron's city-states at some point in his life. But Iacon was the one that held the majority of his most memorable experiences. The first task Primus had given him had brought him here, to deliver a message to Regulus Prime and the leaders of Cybertron's armies. That message had brought about the end of the Quintesson wars.
The city had been very different at the time. It had been full of refugees and soldiers, broken, tired warriors and hungry, desperate camps and communities from all over the globe. It had been one of the last strongholds on the planet. Iacon hadn't been the capital of the world before the Quintesson wars. That had changed just after, during Sentinel Prime's brief, ill-fated reign, because he hadn't wanted to expend resources rebuilding Simfur.
So many things had changed during those wars. And so many things had changed since them. Now, the inner sectors of Iacon made one bustling, crowded metropolis where mecha from all city-states and all walks of life met and mingled.
It was beautiful.
True, there were problems in the world, but in many places, there was still peace.
And now Yoketron was here to fulfill the last task Primus had given him. He had a new message for the current Prime. But this one would start a war instead of ending one.
He still did not feel ready, especially as he walked the streets, listening to the conversations around him and watching mecha go about their lives. There was a lot of talk about Megatron and the Decepticons, and also about Orion Pax's appointment as a Prime. But no one seemed afraid—at least not as afraid as they ought to be.
He could have driven, but he chose to walk instead, making his dilatory way toward the tall towers in the distance. He wasn't sure what he would say to the young Prime. He'd only met the mechling once, and hadn't had time to get to know him. Perhaps he should observe at first, until he understood the situation better.
He would have to resist the temptation to rush this final task. Alpha Trion would surely push him to move more quickly, but he needed to take his time and make sure he was doing things right. He had to focus on preparing Optimus for the future, not on the fact that when he was finished, he would finally, finally get to return home.
He reached the base of the tower. There was a small crowd gathered there, talking to two mecha who stood guarding the door. Yoketron slipped through to the front.
"Good orn," he said. "My designation is Yoketron. I must speak with Optimus Prime."
"Sorry," one of the guards said. "We aren't letting anyone in to talk to him."
Yoketron blinked. He should have expected that. "I am here on Councilor Alpha Trion's orders."
The guards looked at each other.
"Hang on," one of them said. "Come wait inside."
He beckoned Yoketron past him. The babble of the crowd increased as the door opened and Yoketron entered.
The bottom floor of the tower was like a lavish waiting room. There were padded benches and the floor was made of expensive-looking crystal tiles. A mech sat behind a desk, looking at a screen. He glanced up at Yoketron, but didn't say anything, so Yoketron waited in silence, studying the room around him. From what he had heard, high tower nobles rarely came down to ground level, so this place would be for servants and visitors from lower castes to enter.
Yoketron heard what sounded like muted shouting, and wondered whether something was happening outside, but then a door that led further into the tower opened, and three mechs entered the room.
"…can't believe them, I told them not to let anyone else in, I don't care who the frag they say they are. Who are you?" The red and white mech in front glared at Yoketron.
"I am Master Yoketron," Yoketron said. "Alpha Trion sent me to meet with Optimus Prime."
The mech narrowed his optics, then shook his helm. "Anyone could say that. Get out! Fragging assassins crawling in here ten times an orn."
Yoketron raised an optic ridge. "I assure you, I am not an assassin."
"I said get out! Or you'll be forcefully removed from the premises."
Yoketron looked at the two mechs standing behind the red and white one. He doubted they'd be able to force him from the premises. but he didn't want to make a scene. "Very well," he said. "Will you at least tell Optimus Prime that I was here and would like to speak with him?"
"Hold on." the mech at the desk spoke up. "Red Alert, I just looked him up. This mech's famous. Maybe we should let him—"
"No," the red and white mech, Red Alert, snapped. "Get the frag out of here!"
Yoketron frowned. "There is no need to be rude," he said, then turned to leave. "Good orn, Red Alert."
He walked out of the building and past the guards who were still standing by the door.
This was an interesting turn of events. He smiled slightly, remembering that he'd been turned away initially the first time he'd attempted to secure an audience with a Prime as well. He would simply need to find another way in.
For now, though, he ought to find somewhere to stay the off-cycle. He could afford a hotel, certainly, but he preferred to stay with friends when he could. Who did he know in Central Iacon?
He sent an internal comm. as he walked. It was answered after a few astroseconds.
"Master Yoketron, is that really you?"
"Yes," Yoketron said. "Landquake, do you and Petra still live in Iacon?"
"Yes," the transport said. "Are you visiting?"
"I am. If you have some time, I'd love to stop by."
"Do you have somewhere to stay? We'd be happy to have you here for a few orns."
"So long as it doesn't inconvenience you," Yoketron said.
"Where are you? I'll come pick you up."
"There's no need for that. I don't want to take you away from your work."
"I'm actually out of work right now anyway," Landquake said. "Got fired for being in the resistance, and I never managed to get my job back. But that's another story. Where are you?"
Yoketron sent his coordinates, then looked up at the dim Iacon sky, frowning. "I'm sorry to hear about your job. Perhaps I can hire you as a personal transport while I'm here. I may need to move around the sector discreetly in the near future."
"I… are you sure? I mean, you've done so much for us already I don't want to…"
"I insist," Yoketron said. "It will make my life much easier, and I can't accept your services without paying you."
"I can't thank you enough," Landquake said.
"Nonsense. I'll see you soon, my friend."
"I'll be there in ten breems."
Yoketron cut the comm and stood on the corner, waiting.
Orion started online. He had a datapad in one hand and the stack he had made on the desk was a haphazard pile again. What time was it? His internal timepiece said it was the middle of the off-cycle. He must have drifted off. How long had he been recharging? There were things he still needed to do.
He looked down at the datapad, trying to remember what was next on the list, going over what had happened during the orn.
He activated his comm.
"Red Alert?"
"Yes? What is it?"
"Was there something you needed me to do? Something…"
"There are a thousand things that need to be done."
"No, you said something about a prisoner…"
"Oh, yes, he's locked up in Mirage's security vaults."
"…Does Mirage know about that?"
"No. Mirage is not in charge of security here, I am."
"Red Alert, it is his house." And Orion had listened to the noblemech complain for nearly a joor about how he felt like no one was respecting that fact. "So please ask his permission before…"
"How am I supposed to do that when he's invisible half the time? He could be a Decepticon spy for all we know! And we would never know, because we don't know where he is or what he's—"
"Red Alert, please calm down. Mirage is not working for Megatronus."
"You trusted Jazz and Soundwave and they switched sides on you."
Soundwave had joined Megatron—that much was true. Jazz was another story, but Orion and Prowl had decided to keep that as secret as possible.
Orion sighed. "Do you happen to know where Mirage is at the moment?"
"He's in his quarters."
"Is he recharging?"
"No."
"Very well. Thank you."
"Orion—I mean Optimus—I wouldn't go talk to Mirage alone. It isn't safe."
"Thank you for the warning. Why don't you get some recharge?"
"There's no time for that. With Soundwave gone I have to take over his job and my job."
"I am sorry," Orion said, getting up from his desk. "I'll see if we can find you an assistant."
"No, that's fine. I can't trust anyone else. Not after the majority of our mecha betrayed us."
"Well, think about it. Thank you, Red Alert."
"You're welcome. Thank you, Prime."
Orion cut the comm. and quietly opened the door. Ironhide was sitting outside in the hallway, leaning against the wall, with Chromia sitting next to him. His optics were shuttered and he looked like he was recharging.
Chromia was online, though. She met Orion's gaze and pointed to her bonded, raising an optic ridge questioningly.
Orion shook his helm and put a finger to his lip plates. He didn't want to bother his exhausted friend.
Chromia nodded and smiled slightly, then sent him an internal comm.
"Don't leave the building or do anything dangerous."
Orion nodded. "I'm going to talk to Mirage, then maybe Prowl."
Chromia grimaced. "My condolences."
Orion tried to walk down the hall without making noise. He hoped he didn't run into anyone else who wanted to talk to him. There were bound to be several still online, even at this joor.
Normally, he enjoyed talking. But right now, he was so tired of it that he would probably rather get shot than have another conversation with anyone. Who else had he needed to talk to this orn?
Oh. Alpha Trion had told him someone would come to help him prepare to receive the Matrix. Orion had completely forgotten. He initiated another comm.
"Red Alert?"
"What? What's happening?"
"Nothing. I just remembered Alpha Trion told me he was sending someone here…"
"What? Oh, yes. This mech showed up and said Alpha Trion had sent him. I figured he was an assassin or something."
"You thought Alpha Trion would send an assassin?"
"No," Red Alert said. "But I had nothing besides the mech's word that Alpha Trion had sent him in the first place."
"What did you do with him? Please don't tell me you locked him up."
"Of course not! I told him to leave."
Oh, Primus, no. "Red Alert, Alpha Trion told me he was coming…"
"How was I supposed to know that? He could have been anyone."
Orion sighed. One more person he needed to apologize to. "Where did he go?'
"How should I know? He left like I asked him to. Look, if you're expecting someone, you need to let me know beforehand."
"If someone claims to have been sent by Alpha Trion or anyone else on the Council, please let me know before you turn them away. In addition, please do not lock mecha up. We are not a government, and do not have the authority to make arrests."
"Do you want me to keep you safe or don't you?"
"I… never mind. But if that mech comes back, let me know immediately."
"Fine."
"Thank you, Red Alert."
"You're welcome."
He ended the comm again. He would have to address that eventually. If the mech didn't reappear, Orion would ask Alpha Trion for another way to get in touch with him.
He went up the stairs to Mirage's floor of the tower and made his way to the noblemech's room. The door didn't have an entry request button, so he knocked.
And waited.
After almost a breem, it slid open.
"Hello," Mirage frowned. "And what exactly do you want from me at this unholy joor of the off-cycle?"
"I'm sorry to bother you."
"Go on."
"Did you know Red Alert apprehended a prisoner?"
"I had hoped that wasn't true. Where is this prisoner?"
"In your security vaults. At least that is what Red Alert said."
Mirage moaned. "You have to control that lunatic!"
"I'm sorry. We do need him."
"You really must move out," Mirage said. "This is out of control, Prime."
His designation was Orion. "I know."
"I'll give you some time of course. I'm not going to be rude, like that paranoid… did you know he threw out a famous war hero this orn?"
Orion sighed. Probably the mech Alpha Trion had sent. "I had heard. You don't happen to know where that mech went, do you?"
"I haven't got a clue. I didn't hear about it until afterward or I would have intervened."
"Thank you anyway. Would you like to release Red Alert's prisoner this off-cycle, or wait until next orn?"
Mirage crossed his arms with a sigh. "Well, the sooner we can get him out of here, the better. Do you want to bring Ironhide?"
"No, I want to avoid appearing as if I am trying to threaten this mech."
"Your funeral," Mirage said, then beckoned into his room.
Orion stepped inside and watched as the noblemech opened a panel in the wall and tapped a few buttons behind it. A doorway appeared, leading to a flight of stairs. Orion followed Mirage down as the other mech muttered under his breath about invasions of privacy and madmechs. He led the way through a set of halls Orion had never seen before and eventually stopped in front of a long, smooth wall. Mirage tapped a section of the wall and a plate of metal slid out of place, revealing a number pad. The noblemech typed something in on it, then stood back.
Nothing happened.
Mirage huffed. "Red Alert!"
Orion looked down.
"Give me the codes for my vault! This instant! Or I will have you all thrown out on the streets!"
After a few astroseconds, he typed in a longer string of symbols and the wall slid open. It opened to another hallway, which again Mirage led the way through. The hallway was lined with doors. Windows into them showed small rooms filled with boxes, interesting-looking objects, and shelves of datapads.
And in one otherwise empty room, a large mech sat. He was primarily green, with a little gray and white. Orion had never seen him before, but he had been built powerfully in a style that was easily recognizable.
"You might want to comm. your bodyguard after all," Mirage said. "That is a gladiator."
"I know," Orion frowned. The mech looked up through the window and met his gaze with cold white optics. "I don't want to bother Ironhide, though."
Mirage frowned. "You know, he must have come quietly, or we would have heard about it, which means he had a purpose in coming here. If he was sent by Megatron to kill you, you'd be giving him a perfect opportunity."
The mech inside the door bowed his helm.
"I don't know," Orion said. "I doubt Megatronus would send someone to kill me. I don't think he wants me offline, but if he did, I feel he would come himself."
Mirage seemed to consider that.
"It will be fine." If this mech couldn't be reasoned with he wouldn't have let them lock him up. If he had cooperated, then he had a purpose here. If his purpose was to offline Orion, then bringing Ironhide would most likely just get Ironhide hurt or offlined. Orion didn't want to risk that.
"Are you certain?" Mirage asked.
"It will be fine. Please open the door. I am sure he knows that if he attacks me, he will not make it out of this tower." Aside from that, there was a good chance Red Alert had already alerted Ironhide to what Orion was doing. And Orion wanted to talk to this mech before anyone tried to intervene.
"Very well. You're on your own, Prime." Mirage disappeared.
The door opened. Orion's spark pulsed painfully, and for a moment he was afraid for his life.
The green gladiator looked up again, but didn't move other than that. "Orion Pax," he said. "Or, Optimus Prime, as it were."
Orion nodded. "I am sorry for how you've been treated." He reached out to help the other mech up.
The gladiator looked hesitant for a moment, then took Orion's hand. Orion helped him to his pedes. He was even heavier than expected, and stood taller and much broader than Orion.
"I haven't been mistreated," the mech said. "At least, I haven't been harmed in any way."
"Well, I apologize that you were locked up."
The gladiator nodded. "Forgiven. I'm Springer."
"You can call me Orion if you want."
Springer tilted his helm to the side. "All right."
"What brings you to Iacon?" Orion asked.
"You," Springer said.
"Me?" Orion felt a chill run down his back plating.
"Yes," Springer said. "So far, I have to say I'm not impressed. Everything here seems to be a bit of a mess."
"It is," Orion admitted.
"Also, coming to talk to me by yourself seems like a bad idea. What if I were here to kill you?"
"You are not the first one who's raised that concern." Orion said. "You showed up, apparently without trying to sneak in, and cooperated with my mecha. If you meant us harm, I'm sure you would have done us harm already."
"What if this was my plan to get at you?"
"Cooperate in the hope that I would come by myself to talk to you?" Orion asked.
Springer seemed to consider that. "You're right, I doubt I'd expect you to do anything that stupid. I just came to meet you, and share what I can about Megatronus. He and I were in the pits together. We even fought against each other once. I like him as much as it's possible to like someone down there. But I don't trust him. And if this becomes a war and I have to pick a side to fight on, I can't be on his."
Orion frowned. "You.. can't?"
"No," Springer said. "He doesn't want to solve society's problems, he just wants revenge. He's out of control."
Orion didn't want to believe that.
"Now, I'm not promising to join your side," Springer said. "And I'm not much of a soldier. But I did come with some inside information, and I'll give you my comm. codes so if you ever need a gladiator, you can contact me."
"Well…" Orion said.
"I won't be offended if you don't want my help. After all, the last time you trusted a gladiator, it didn't work out so well for you."
"No," Orion said. "It's not that. I'm glad to have an ally in you, and thank you for offering your assistance. I simply don't think this is going to devolve into a war. I doubt I will need any soldiers of any kind…"
"Megs will make war," Springer said. "Don't doubt that."
Orion shuttered his optics for a moment. He didn't want to admit that this mech was probably right.
Ironhide commed him.
"Orion, where are you?"
He was out of time. "I'm fine."
"Surely you know him well enough to know that," Springer said.
"Yes, but I don't want to give up on him yet."
Springer raised an optic ridge. "Well, I'll give you my comm. codes. If you need another bodyguard, or someone to wreak general mayhem somewhere, let me know, all right?"
Orion nodded.
"You told Chromia you were talking to Mirage."
"I'm talking to someone else," Orion said, then addressed Springer. "I have to see to something else. But we would be happy to accept any information you can give us. You can stay here for the rest of the off-cycle if you would like, but—"
"No, that's all right," Springer said. "I can find somewhere else to stay."
"Who are you talking to?"
"Mirage, would you mind showing him out? I have to go reassure Ironhide that I am all right."
"I'm not your errand mech," Mirage stepped into the doorway, visible again. "But all right. Do you remember the way back?"
Orion nodded.
"The inside of the door to my quarters has a passcode. I'll send it to you in a comm."
"You had better not be talking to Red Alert's prisoner by yourself."
Mirage sent him the password, and Springer handed him a small datapad.
"Thank you," Orion said, and they all left.
"You fragging idiot!"
"I'll talk to you in a few breems."
They headed back the way they had come. Outside the vault, they turned different directions. Orion retraced their steps back to Mirage's quarters, keyed in the code, went in, and walked out into the hallway.
Ironhide was waiting for him there.
"Are you glitched!?" he demanded.
"I'm fine."
"That prisoner is a gladiator!"
"Was a gladiator."
"He could have offlined you!"
Orion shook his helm. "If he…"
"Don't start making excuses. You're a Prime now, you can't just put your life in danger! It's my job to keep you safe and I can't do that with you running off doing stupid things like talking to gladiators from Kaon."
"Ironhide…"
"No! From this moment on, I don't want you to leave my sight!"
"I'm not a sparkling."
"Then don't act like one!"
"Then don't…" Orion sighed. Ironhide was right. "I apologize. I should have woken you so you could come with me. I wanted to let you rest, though. I kept you up later than you should have been, because I slipped into recharge in my office…"
"You… argh, why are you so hard to be mad at? What you did was irresponsible, Orion. It doesn't matter if I'm tired—what matters is your safety."
"Even if you were there, if that mech had wanted to hurt me, he wouldn't have had much trouble."
"At the very least, I could have bought you time to get away if he'd attacked."
"That's another reason I didn't want to bring you," Orion said, conviction strengthening. "I don't care what my title is, my life is no more important than yours or anyone's."
Ironhide frowned, shaking his helm. "No. Don't do anything like that again or I'll lock you up for your own good."
A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him and Orion shuttered his optics.
"You all right?"
"Yes."
"Are you done for the orn?"
He nodded.
"Then you're going to your room to rest. No arguing."
Orion wasn't about to argue with something like that.
Notes:
1. To find out what's up with Jazz, check out Spare Parts chapter 15.
2. Happy New Year!