Author Note: Wow, this looked a lot bigger when i was writing; I honestly had no idea this was such a short chapter, though the term's are of course relevant. Anyway, this one was a bit trickier than the others, surprisingly. It required several rather severe rewritings in multiple places, though I'm rather pleased with the way it worked out in the end. Anyway, please enjoy, and I always look forward to commentary.
A few Breems later, the two of them wandered out of Epidata's office, promising to return later, this time with Sari's key. Epi had been able to tell them little else after explaining about Sari's glut of energy. There were simply too many things about her that had never been seen before, and that meant that they simply had to wait and see.
"Well, that was interesting," deadpanned Sari, before she broke into a smile. "Epi's a great guy. Did you see how he pretended not to mind when I sneezed all over his computers? And he waited until we were gone before he started disinfecting them."
"Yeah, Epi's a good bot," agreed Ratchet as he raised a hand to his comlink, answering the call he had put on hold in the lab. "Ratchet here, so what do you want?" he demanded briskly.
"Ratchet, where the Spark have you been?" The medic bot winced at the anger in Optimus's voice, so different from his usual noble tones.
"At Epi's office, where I said we'd be!" shouted Ratchet.
"The parade is starting in two Breems!" retorted Prime.
"What parade?" grumbled the Medic sourly.
"The parade I've been telling you about for the past two Orns! The parade where they take us through the city, with the All-Spark, all the way to the central chambers, where the Council itself will present us with honors! That parade!"
"I didn't hear anything about a parade," snorted Ratchet, scratching at his chin.
"I personally told you three times!"
"Well I'm sorry," growled Ratchet. "But I musta missed that memo, since I was more worried about getting Sari here to the closest thing we have to an expert in unique Cybertronian species!"
Optimus sighed deeply, before replying, "I understand, Ratchet, and I think it's very noble of you to focus on Sari's care like this, but you have to remember that a lot of the decisions to made about Sari will be made by the council. And the more on her side they are, the easier it'll be to get her what she nee..." Ratchet's exact wording finally caught up to Optimus's train of thought, and the Cybertronian leader yelled, "What? What did you say?"
"That if you can't be bothered to worry about..."
"Don't, Ratchet. Just tell me what you meant by unique species."
"Just what it means. Epi swears he's never even heard about something like Sari, not even in the ancient Cybertronian histories, which means that she counts as an entirely new species of life. The first of her kind, ever."
"I see." Even over the comlink, Ratchet could hear the little gears winding away in Optimus's head. Recorded Cybertronian history went back millions of years, covering multiple galaxies, and billions of species, organic or otherwise; for something to exist entirely outside their experience, even in conjecture or legend, was unthinkable. Then again, Sari specialized in the impossible.
"Optimus, this is a big thing." Ratchet knew the young bot already understod, but it still needed to be said out loud.
"I know that, I know that," growled the Autobot leader, "but the parade is important too. It's a big deal, politically, and those same politics will make it easier for us to do our jobs." Optimus sighed, filling the COM with static. "Listen, can we trust Epidata to keep quiet on this?"
"For a while, yeah," Ratchet replied. "Poor bot's almost as much of a stickler for following orders as you are, but short of that he'll keep his speakers off."
"Good. Then we've got some time before the slag all hits the centrifuge. Come to the parade, we'll deal with all the blitz and glamour, and then we'll regroup for some serious plotting." Optimus sighed again. "I thought all the hard stuff was done with already."
"Lad, I thought the same thing when the war was over," grumbled Ratchet, "and then they went and saddled me with a bunch of youngsters barely out of their protoforms! The work is never done."
"Now you tell me," groaned Optimus. "The parade is starting at the Memorial of the Primes. I'll see you there?"
"Aye, lad," replied Ratchet as he signed off. "Optimus needs us..." he continued as he turned towards Sari.
"I know, I heard," interrupted Sari. "Channel Autobot," she explained as she tapped the sides of her helmet. "Found it when I was flipping through stations a few weeks ago.
"Well then, do you need a ride, or...?"
"Nah, I think I got this," replied Sari as she kick-started her jetpack. "Meet you there!" she cried as she opened up the throttle, shooting into the air like an arrow from a bow.
Up in the sky, far above the glitz, dazzle, and chrome of Cybertron, Sari felt free again. The people below were nice enough to their diminutive hero, even if they sometimes had trouble hiding their nausea, and the planet was pretty enough, if you liked metal; but the hard alloy world of the Autobots was too harsh for her sensibilities, and even the nicest bots had trouble keeping her from getting underfoot. She was tired of the smell of oil and rust, the bland taste of Energon sucked through a straw, and she missed the color green. Cybertron was...nice, if you wanted to visit, but it wasn't home. As she spotted the familiar, towering figure of blue and red, she resolved that she would be back on Earth within the week, chowing down on a bot burger next to her father.
"Hey Optimus," she called as she coasted to a hover, wary of landing amongst the stampede of feet. The plaza was filled with Autobots, both strange and familiar, and off to the side she could spot the shapes of the large, open-air transports the Autobots used as palanquins. In the plaza's center stood a gigantic sculpture worked out of some unearthly material; strung with wires, and lit from within, the statue was too stylized for her to understand, but it was obviously artwork of great importance and reverence. Even now, with the crushing crowd, no bot was willing to get within a hundred yards of the art-piece.
"Hey Sari," replied Optimus with a nod. Tall and lithe, with a powerful form clad in red and blue, Optimus Prime was a distinct shape in the crowd, even without the glittering All-Spark hanging from his neck. Most of the others were nearby, almost lost in the mob, and only her height let her see Bulkhead's dark green hide, and Bumblebee's brilliant yellow; Jazz's off-white silhouette prowled the outer edges of the party, the Cyberninja patrolling even as he enjoyed the celebration. "Where's Ratchet?" asked Optimus as he scanned the bustle.
"He's coming," she replied as she coasted a bit higher. "It's just, you know," she shrugged as well as she could in the jetpack's harness, "no wings. He had to take the long way."
"As long as he get's here on time," retorted Optimus, frowning. "We cannot afford to mess this up."
"Come on Optimus," whined Sari as she hovered closer to the nervous Autobot. "You guys are heroes! Your Council thingy is inviting you to the palace to personally thank you! Who's going to complain if some grumpy old medic bot is a bit tardy!"
"There's a big difference between being thanked by the Council, and having the Council's gratitude. I want them thinking nothing but good thoughts about us for a long while. And to do that…."
"…You can't allow anything to go wrong," interjected Sari, with only the barest traces of sarcasm. "Don't worry! Nothing can go wrong with you here Optimus."
"Thanks Sari," returned Optimus with a snort of laughter. "But if time has proven anything, it's that things are more likely to go wrong when I'm around, not less."
"Okay, maybe you're right," admitted Sari with a giggle. "But still, I don't see how anything can go wrong right…"
Optimus felt a thrill of danger as Sari's voice dwindled off mid sentence, and turned to look at the diminutive techno-organic. "Sari, what's wrong?"
"Boss bot?" she asked tremulously, looking up at the distant sky, "how many Autobots do you know who can fly?"
"Not…many. You've met most of them, actually."
"Then that over there is a very big problem," she said as she pointed a shaky finger at a distant shape high in the sky.
"What is…" he narrowed his optics and refocused the light-gathering lenses, trying to get a clearer picture…and then he felt his spark chamber drop as he finally got a clear view. "By the All Spark no," he moaned, before he let his warrior's instinct take control. He took a deep breath, feeling his chassis stretch, and switched on his COM, setting the transceiver for an all channels alert. "DECEPTICON INCOMING!" he roared, his whole body vibrating from the noise, his warning blasting through every radio in the area. He drew his weapon, the rocket-propelled axe he had been gifted with on graduation from the academy, and continued, "EVERYONE, GET TO COVER!" It took a few seconds for the crowd to realize what he had said, but when they processed it they all moved. A long history of war and destruction had left even the most plebian civilian with the reflexes and instincts of a survivor. Optimus could expect the plaza to be deserted in minutes.
"Optimus!" shouted Sentinel Prime, Optimus's comrade and rival, as he shoved his way out of the heaving crowd. "What in the name of Primus do you think you're doing? Are you trying to start a panic, or has it simply never occurred to you what might result from shouting spurious warnings about…!"
"Go scrap yourself Sentinel," snapped Optimus, launching into a run as he growled, "I have a Decepticon to stop."
"What are you talking about," Sentinel cried, throwing his arms into the air. "You glitch-head, all the Decepticons are…", his instincts screamed at him, and he shaded his optics for a better look, then felt his jaw drop. "SLAG!" he shouted as he slammed open his com channel. "All Elite Guard, this is Sentinel Prime requesting back-up! All bots within range, get your tail plates in gear, and get here now, weapons at the ready!" Sentinel activated his own weapon mods, feeling his shield and lance extend themselves into his hands, but then paused. His political sense told him to protect the civilians, painting himself as a guardian of the people, but at the same time he was a warrior, and the enemy was right there…then good sense intruded, and he shook the argument away as he began sprinting after Optimus. He was a member of the Elite Guard, a soldier for Cybertron; how could he ever show his face again if he let Optimus have all the fun?
"Sari!" boomed Optimus as he hit his stride, optics fixed on the approaching heavy bomber. "You need to get out of here! It's not safe…!"
"Sorry, denied!" retorted the techno-organic. "I not a helpless human anymore, and you're not keeping me out of this. I know what I can do now, and while I'm not ready for the big leagues, I can still play backup. You're stuck with me, Optimus. Besides," she continued, her voice smiling, "with my luck, I'd end up running into Megatron five seconds after leaving, without you to protect me. We both know I'm safer with you."
Optimus thought about arguing, thought about calling on her fear and guilt, but then he saw the look of determination in Sari's optics…no, he reminded himself. They weren't optics, they were eyes, her eyes, and they were looking at him with a will to match any of his warriors. "Well then," he said slowly, filled with equal parts pride and worry, "I suppose that there's only one thing left to say." He felt his battle mask draw shut over his face as he cried, "AUTOBOTS! TRANSFORM, AND ENGAGE THE ENEMY!"
