Grapple's Choice

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Chapter 7 : Transition

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Defeated in battle and unable to 'borrow' the Decepticons' spacebridge, Optimus sardined a force of mechs into Jetfire and Cosmos and a few more into Hyperion and headed straight for Cybertron. On arrival, they found the base completely destroyed and the femmes missing, but were able to eventually locate them hidden in the ruins of a long-silent spaceport terminal. Elita-One's team had fled and found shelter there amidst a number of empties, who, while not exactly welcoming of the refugees, begrudgingly allowed them in. Optimus' force joined them there, now a week after the call for help, and the reunion was a bitter and tearful one.

Elita-One gave her mate an unashamed earful, ranting nearly non-stop about his abandoning her and her team. Yes, he'd had Cosmos deliver supplies and energon on a regular basis, but it wasn't enough. She was forgiving of the six octads spent unconscious on Earth. She was understanding of why they weren't able to reach her contingent when attacked. She understood the fact that it had taken them a week to reach them at the spaceport. What she was angry over was that in the five meta-cycles since their discovery he'd had little if any contact with them. Shockwave's destruction of their base had finally brought her frustration and anger to a head.

And this was no private conference either. Elita-One literally had Optimus kneeling in front of her while she loomed over him, spitting out her heartache and tears. The other Autobots and her own battered force watched quietly from a distance as the Prime's mate cowed the great leader. Except for the terast team. Apex, Sundog, and Hyperion had spent their time on Cybertron so far in silence, trying hard to wrap their processors around what had become of their beautiful planet during their long sleep. Grapple stood with them trying to comfort and explain.

Eventually Alpha Trion stepped in and pulled Elita-One away, where she went nearly limp in his arms, sobbing against the ancient mech's shoulder. Giving Optimus a look of pity, Alpha Trion led the woeful femme away, taking her down into the ruins of the spaceport terminal. At this point Chromia stepped in and continued to berate the Prime for neglecting his bondmate, the burden at least being shared by Ironhide. His crime was that of not reminding the Prime that he had a bondmate on Cybertron.

When Chromia let up and stormed away, practically dragging her mate with her, Optimus retreated to think, visibly trembling from the unexpected dressing down. He was later joined by Alpha Trion. "You'll have to do something, Optimus," said the ancient mech gravely. "She's not going to settle for promises that you'll pay more heed."

"What should I do?" he asked frustratedly. "I wanted to bring her to Earth, but she refused."

"Then you'll have to go to her."

"I can't leave Earth while Megatron is there," he countered.

"A difficult situation, isn't it?" sighed Alpha Trion, sitting down beside him.

Optimus held his tongue but glared at the mech who had chosen to craft a nearly dead, inconsequential dockworker into the leader of the Autobot faction.

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They all knew an announcement was forthcoming—Optimus Prime having spent the past two days in conference with Alpha Trion, Elita-One, Prowl, Jazz, and Chromia—but the specific decision made came as some surprise.

Despite the costs and the difficulty, a space bridge was to be built, linking the Autobots on Earth to Cybertron without the need to continually wrest control of one of the Decepticons' bridges. A team of mechs to permanently guard, operate, and maintain it on Cybertron would be included in the package.

At the core of the guardian force would be Apex and his team.

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The new fueler lay sobbing in Hoist's arms. Grapple, barely four months into his new role, was completely upset by the decision to move the terast to Cybertron.

The doctor gently stroked his lover's helm and shoulders trying to comfort him. Despite the sadness of the moment he was enjoying holding him in his lap, their current position having been impossible before Grapple had taken the new frame. Teletraan had chosen an Earth-mode for him that had been bulky and cumbersome. Even before that reshaping the mech had been a large one. By comparison, the fueler's frame was lithe and sleek and graceful in design—the aesthetics and mindset of the Golden Age still present at the time of Stoker's joining of the terast program.

"I know I need to leave, but I still don't want to. We've been together for so long—long before even coming to Earth."

"It's not the end of us. We knew it was a possibility when you joined their team, even though Optimus was going to keep you here on this planet. And besides, we've been apart before, and in much more dire circumstances at that. This is nothing compared to what we've been through."

Grapple sighed. "You're always so logical..."

"And you're always so emotional." Hoist leaned forward and placed a kiss on the beautiful brow.

Grapple looked up into the doctor's optic band, the only light besides his own eyes in the dark of his quarters.

Hoist held him tighter. "You'll at least be going back to Cybertron, and get to spend time with Elita's crew. And besides, you'll be more useful there. To the terast and his team. To Elita One. To Cybertron. You can even start plans for rebuilding while you're there."

"Yes... but without you."

"We'll see each other again. Probably more often than expected in fact. Chances are that as the fueler, you'll be the one hauling the energon from Earth to Cybertron." The doctor produced a small towel and blotted Grapple's face.

"Always positive as well as logical."

"Think of it this way. You'll have your gestalt. You'll have me here on Earth. You'll have all those lovely femmes on Cybertron lined up wanting to suck from your hose..."

Grapple squealed in embarrassment. Hoist could say such perverted things at times, and he knew it was done just to tease him.

"And besides. You'll have him... that tall, handsome terast."

"You're not jealous, are you?"

"I am. I wish they'd asked me to be their fueler." He sighed dramatically.

Grapple laughed through his tears. "You know that's not what I meant."

And then Hoist took Grapple's head beneath the chin and kissed him again, this time lingering on the perfect lip components. And when he finally completed the moment, he held Grapple's face, staring into his optics. "Hyperion needs you, probably more than we need each other."

"Don't say that!"

"You know it's true. There were deep bonds between Hyperion and Stoker, those of carrier and sparkling as well as fueler and terast. He can't leave that place open."

He vented sorrowfully. "I'm not Stoker, but at least I'm something."

"He knows that. Your team knows that. But you're right. That feeling of having someone there to look after him is what he needs. We both knew that you joining was for the best." Lips met again. "Be good to them. I know you can give him what he needs, and I don't just mean fuel and minerals and a polish now and then."

Grapple's lithe fingers slid into the seams of Hoist's arms and stroked at the cabling they found. "We estimate it will be two months—about three decacycles—before this end of the spacebridge is complete. And until the receiving end of it is complete, travel through it will be one way only. Tomorrow Huffer and I will spend the whole day putting together a construction schedule and figuring out where to get the necessary materials. Thankfully the Decepticons did all the planning for us, right down to a supplies list. In a way I'm surprised that we've waited this long to build our own spacebridge, given that Jazz and Mirage stole the blueprints for one ages ago."

"Two months is nothing."

"Two months, no. But after that we begin construction on Cybertron. Not just the spacebridge but the base around it—control works and defenses and supply rooms. We'll need a source of water and places to live. I'll have to design and build that, and it's not going to be easy, trying to work on Cybertron with things as they are."

"But you can do it, Grapple. We know you can. You and Huffer are the best candidates for this job."

Grapple sighed. "But it's still a daunting task because of the conditions. And..." He looked up into Hoist's optics again. "And you won't be with me."

Hoist chuckled and he pulled Grapple's slender form up into a sitting position and kissed him again. "You're acting like an anxious little sparkling. That's Hyperion's job, isn't it?"

Grapple sighed. "You're right. We've been apart before, like you said. Sometimes for vorns."

"Isn't that why we've never bonded?"

This made the upset mech laugh. "I thought it was because you were never serious enough about settling down with one mech. And you keep saying you're too young to settle down with anyone." Hoist was rather young compared to most of the Autobots on Optimus' team.

"I thought it was because we were waiting for the end of the war. Besides... you're one to talk. You know the gestalt bond is pretty much the same as a sparkbond."

"Yes... It's like having three sparkmates."

"There you go, trying to make me jealous again," huffed Hoist. And then he pulled him in, kissing him fiercely. "At least we have two months before you're gone and I lose you completely to them," he whispered into Grapple's mouth.

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"Grapple's Choice" continues in Chapter 8: Nova Sabulon

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Feedback welcome! Commentary welcome!

Transformers and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Hasbro and Takara Tomy. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.

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