Chapter 1
Chasing Cars
"I don't quite know how to say how I feel, those three words are said too much, they're not enough, if I lie here, if I just lie here, would you lie with me and just forget the world"
She panted, surprised and pleased by the fight the other femme was putting up. It wasn't that her twin was ever a bad fighter, but she had always been just slightly better at swordplay than her sister. Now it was even and she couldn't be happier. Nothing was better than a worthy opponent of equal skill.
Optimus and Ironhide leaned against the wall of the training room and watched critically, reminding her of that long ago orn, vorns ago on Cybertron when she had gotten her new name. Optimus had been watching her then, too.
His optics burned on her armor, heavy and intent. He had optics that saw things. That's what made her falter long enough for Ironhide to get the upper servo. Her processor was so split between the weight of Prime's optics and Ironhide's furious blows that she lost focus on it all for a moment. It was just a nanosec, but it was long enough for him to grab her around the neck and slam her down. So ended their first training session and mock battle.
Everything and nothing had changed since then. She had ben nothing, confused and nameless and without a home or a history or a family. She hadn't known the behemoth mech that leaned against the wall watching her, hadn't known the gruff Weapons Master that had agreed to train her. She had learned that the mechs there were never what they first appeared to be. Knew it in her spark from the moment he smiled and applauded her.
He had clapped for her slowly, optics still heavy on her and unwavering. He wore a battlemask that covered the lower half of his face and she couldn't read him. It frustrated her because she had this odd feeling, a half-remembered reassurance that she could read anyone. It made her feel like she was breaking a promise. Something said that promises were engraved on her spark and not to be broken.
She knew nothing of him but he was still the center of her focus because she knew that he was the real danger, no matter the beating that Ironhide had just given her. He was electric and magnetic but his EM field told her nothing about him. But there was still this thing in the air around him and the way Ironhide watched him too that left her unsurprised when the red mech said, "This is Optimus Prime. Prime, this is the scraplet we found in Kaon."
"Be nice, old friend," he rumbled out and she can still remember the sound of his voice the first time. It immediately decided her about him. "You fight well for one so young. I have been told you do not remember your name. Do you desire a new one?" When she hesitantly nodded, his optics turned thoughtful for a moment. She was curious. It must be something to be named by the Prime (and she had an instinctual knowledge of just how important he was) and she wanted to know what he would call her. "Battle seems to be deeply engraved into you and your fighting style is unique. You deserve something befitting the warrior you will soon be. From now on, your new designation will be Strikezone."
It was an intake of fresh air, having a name and a place (because this Prime seemed very intent on her place as warrior) and she smiled a bit. "Then I am Strikezone. At your service, Commander, Prime." And she bowed to them. It wasn't a real ceremony like some had, but it was certainly good enough. So was the smirk on Ironhide's face that said he knew something and the way the Prime's optics glowed.
They glowed now too and Striker had come to recognize it as a smile. That was one of the things that had changed. He still watched her fight (but so rarely fought with her, since she would have been so overmatched. She could admit that his skills far surpassed hers) and he still wore that battlemask and she still went by the name he gave her but she knew things now. She knew how her comrades worked, knew that Ironhide wasn't as gruff as he acted and that Ratchet actually did like people and that the big twins could play well with others and a hundred other things that came with being family.
She dodged another swipe from her sister and thought about all the little things she didn't know about her twin. Things that the bond had shown her but that she didn't actually know, things she hadn't learned. That had changed, too. Striker wasn't alone in her processor like she used to be and she found that it felt more natural like that. She kind of liked it.
She felt optics on her, amused, heavy optics that she never ignored, no matter how mush she wanted to. Thus, she didn't quite move fast enough to doge the sword swinging at her leg, though she did block the one coming for her throat. Either way, she ended up on her back, winded, mock-defeated and staring into her twin's bright red visor. "Looks like you've learned something while I've been gone, darling sister mine and while I yield to you," Striker said, twisting her hand around her twin's blade, shredding the metal of her servos (Ratchet was going to be furious; he had just recalibrated her joints) and using their entwined legs to flip the still-slightly smaller femme onto her back with her own sword pointed at her throat, "you still haven't learned quite enough, Lightningstrike."
Striker rolled to let her sister up, smiling up and the blue femme. "Lovely work out, though. Can't wait to spar when we're both in top form."
"I'll be looking forward to it. Don't pull your punches next time," and she turned to go.
"Only if you don't pull yours, spark of mine." Lightning only stopped for a moment to toss a vicious grin over her shoulder, a flash in her visor that said 'I can't wait.'
0o0
Strikezone growled as her armor was struck once again, leaving a gash slowly leaking energon and showing sparking circuitry. It was one of many littering her sides, though none were anywhere near fatal. She only got pleasure from the sight of her opponent faring worse than her. She backed up and they circled each other again while she traded her new hatchet for her favored swords. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it her way. He moved first, slashing down at the armor that protected her spark chamber. Striker made use of her smaller size and comparative speed to duck behind him to slash at the back of his right knee. He had a habit of getting it torn off and she knew the mechanism was weaker because of it.
Optimus groaned in pain and spun on her with speed that defied his mass and put her in a head lock, lifting her pedes off the ground. She swung her legs and planted her pedes on his knees, spinning her wheels against his thigh plating and throwing up sparks at the same time she jabbed his already sparking shoulder with her blade. His arm went momentarily limp and she dropped, once again cutting at his knees. Prime caught her hip, cutting through some painfully important wires and slowing her down. She snarled and made a note to herself to get that weak spot covered up.
Again, they separated and again, they clashed like titans with a clang of metal on metal. Watching them fight, one would never believe that these two were the closest of lovers. They snarled and growled like animals and Striker showed just how she got her name as she ruthlessly targeted the weakest points on her opponent while Optimus cut and ripped at her armor. The battle was over suddenly, Prime's swords having been dropped and Striker pointing a sword at his spark chamber.
"Do you surrender?" Striker's voice was cold and hot air blasted from her vents as her spark spun hard to cool her systems down. Optimus could see in her battle-bright optics that he had to tread lightly here. It was common practice to kill your opponents in the gladiator pits and it was a miracle she had not yet done so. Prime had known that sparring with him would most likely trigger those memories but he was willing to take the chance if it meant he could help her work through them. He offlined his optics and retracted his battlemask, drawing gasps from the new recruits who had not yet seen the bottom half of his face, bowing his helm slightly as he murmured, "I yield."
Striker trailed the tip of her sword up and used it to lift his chin. Optimus powered his optics back on in time to see her optics dim from the battle high as she transformed her blade back into a hand and nodded to him before stepping back. "Hope you were paying attention, newbies. That is how Cybertronians fight."
Will Lennox shook himself out of the daze he had fallen into. He hadn't yet seen the new femme fight and he could tell they were both pulling punches, though it gave him the chance to analyze her fighting style. She was wild like a tornado with the controlled movements of someone who had been taught to stand from a very young age (he should know; his older cousin was a ballet dancer and he knew how someone well-trained moved), something that was both at odds and perfectly matched to Prime's dancing and lethal grace. Still thinking over the differences and how he could turn them to their advantage, he turned to address the recruits the Cybertronians had been sparring for.
"You've gotten rusty, old mech," she murmured as the Prime pulled his battlemask back on. The metal on the lower half of his face was still sensitive around the scars. And if he was a little self-conscious about it, no one would say anything.
"Perhaps I was just pulling my punches. I wouldn't want to defeat you so easily in your first match against me in vorns."
She scoffed because she knew he was right. No one matched Optimus Prime on the battlefield in skill or experience save one. So instead of retorting, she just grabbed his servo with her good one (the other had been wrapped by Ratchet, who decided it would be a good idea until the small welds and recalibrations set) and dragged him out of the main hanger. She had an idea.
Diego Garcia was beautiful in that organic way that all of Earth seemed to be. The place had a sort of untouched and solitary feel to it, aided by the sea surrounding it on al sides. There was a little cove on the east shore with a cliff hanging over it that she had found in her first week there while she was hiding from Ratchet. Almost two months after Egypt and the CMO had stopped obsessively checking her up. He was still protective of her and every scratch she got, but it wasn't as bad. Striker knew it was just a way to say I love you from the crotchety old mech so she allowed it. That cove was her destination now since the only other person that knew about it was Lighting. But then, Lighting knew everything she knew, so it wasn't a surprise.
"Now," Striker said in that voice that brooked no argument, "what's wrong?"
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he said, only feigning affronted and sighing on the inside. She always knew.
"Because you very rarely spar with me and I know the difference between pulling your punches and honest distraction. You didn't let me win; you just never paid enough attention to put up a fight, which is even worse. So tell me, what has the great Optimus Prime worried?" Now her voice was just unshakeable confidence because she could always read him, no matter how changed he was.
"You don't call me Orion anymore," he said, part explanation and part distraction.
"Because I haven't seen Orion since he told me he loved me before our world burned around us. Since then, all I've seen is the cold mech who's more Prime than Optimus. I'm sorry if I haven't quite wrapped my processor around this new you." Striker never had been one to beat around the bush and her words were as blunt as ever. Just as harsh and needed as they ever were.
He just stared at her, not really surprised at her brash honesty but more trying to put his answer together. "I need you like I need energon to function and without you I just shut down. I was okay as long as I could pretend my spark didn't exist and it did not when you were not here, not in the same way it used to. Even now with you back, I am not really sure how to tell you- I do not how to say that I…" he trailed off, vocalizer clicking as he realized that he really couldn't say it. Not again after what had happened last time.
"I love you, Orion," and it sounded almost like a question.
"Yes, exactly that. The words seem so inadequate and used up for you but I am not certain-"
She cut him off this time, one servo covering his mouth and the other on his cheek, her expression equal parts amused and frustrated. "Mech, did you hear me? I said, I love you and those words are perfectly fine to me. So stop babbling and slow down for a minute. Breathe, sweetspark. Different though you are, you're still my Orion with all the baggage that comes with. As long as you don't mind all of mine, that is," she added quickly, well aware that there was the distinct possibility that he had moved on after all this time.
His frame almost visibly sagged into her though, his big fingers clutching her shoulders as he buried his face into her shouldered and did just as she suggested, taking big and mostly unnecessary gulps of air. "I love you too, Strikezone. Primus, I missed you," he murmured before lapsing into the Language of the Primes, something she'd never be able to understand.
So, instead of trying to decipher it, she disentangled herself from him and sat down, holding out a servo to him. "I plan on laying here for a while. You want to stay with me and just forget the world?"
She didn't have to ask him twice.
