A/N: Our apologizes for such a nasty cliffhanger last chapter! Although, lamentably, I cannot say it will be the last. That having been said, I have some ill-begotten news for you, dear reader. Due to a monumental exam that draws nearer, now but two weeks away, it is a very high probability that I will have to go on a semblance of a hiatus for said two weeks. What has been three months of preparation will now be elevated into a frenzy of studying and review for the six hour exam that now looms before me, more menacing than the Nemesis . (Yes, six hours, start to finish, one shot, one day, no breaks. Primus help me...)
BUT, in whatever moments I can, I will do my utmost to keep "De Cinere" moving. Both Bumbee and I are still hoping to finish De Cinere before the official premiere of Transformers Prime season two ( a tall order, but I think we can just make it...) Though if I am unable to update within the next two weeks, rest assured that as soon as the exam has passed I will be able to return to "De Cinere" as well as a number of our other works in progress.
Now, enough talk of such things, onward to Orion's predicament!
Please R & R!
~~~Epsilon Pax
Disclaimer: Hasbro gets everything, Bumbee and I nothing, yes, we know, we know...
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All three of them hit the floor hard as the ground bridge closed behind them, sealing them safely within the confines of the Autobot base.
Try as he might to shield her—Orion still was concerned that she might have truly sustained injury from both Bulkhead's assault as well as the tumble through the vortex—the impact of both the ground beneath him and Bulkhead from behind him knocked Arcee out of Orion's arms.
He watched helplessly as she tumbled away, but his concern was quickly transformed into a decidedly different sentiment as Arcee channeled her momentum with acrobatic grace, rolling with what could have been a jarring impact to land lithely on her feet, her arms fluidly extended both for balance and held in a defensive position; a defensive position, he realized, against him. As if he were the threat to them, the very Cybertronians who had helped him only to take him hostage. The thought rankled and splintered his previous sentiments of good will toward them into shards of anger.
Megatronus had been right.
"You deceived me," Orion's voice dipped into a low and terrible timber as his optics locked with those of Arcee. The surprise that flashed across her faceplates at the thunderous accusation could have been no different if Orion had surged forward and struck her in the face.
With a low growl, Orion, who had landed with his chest-plates pressed against the hard packed concrete, sought to push himself up, but instead was met with an overwhelming wall of resistance.
Bulkhead.
Upon toppling through the ground bridge, the burly Autobot found that he had landed squarely upon Orion's back, and rather than roll off of his leader entirely, Bulkhead remained perched atop Orion, using the weight of his forearms to press against Orion's broad shoulders and thus keep him pinned. Judging from the venom in Orion's voice, Bulkhead was wise not to let Orion get his feet under him, as it was, Bulkhead keeping Orion thus locked in place was the only advantage they had.
Unable to throw Bulkhead off his back in such a position, Orion twisted his head to the side slightly, none too pleased to be trapped in such an inglorious way, he practically snarled at Bulkhead, "I demand that you let go of me!"
"We can't…" Arcee attempted, hating how her voice wavered as Orion turned those piercing optics toward her again, his gaze a clear damnation upon her.
"You deceived me," Orion thundered at her once more, "I, who offered to help you, to put aside our opposing ideologies because you once helped me, am now repaid with such dishonor, with such deceit. You lied to me, all to lure me here as leverage against Megatronus."
Unprepared for such a tirade, Arcee fell back, her expression open and crestfallen. It was a side of Optimus she had never thought she'd witness; in that moment she was trapped, unable to reconcile that familiar countenance, that deep soothing timber all lashing against her with raw and undiluted loathing. What had Megatron done to him? What could the Decepticon Leader have told him to turn Orion so resolutely against them? Behind her, Bumblebee emitted a long, mournful whistle, an emulation of her dwindling hopes of ever restoring Optimus to all that he was before.
"Promise not to attack us and Bulkhead will let you up," Ratchet intoned solemnly, as he stepped forward, using the movement to wrest Orion's attention away from Arcee. He hoped that Orion would listen to him, for, as it stood, out of all of the bots it was with Ratchet that Orion had a passable connection of civility, a rapport of trust, no matter how tenuous.
Orion narrowed his optics, wincing in pain as Bulkhead unintentionally twisted one of his shoulder joints beyond its comfortable levels of articulation. Ratchet noted the movement and was quick to radio Bulkhead, snapping "Easy! You're hurting him! And that will only hone his temper more!"
"No help for it, Ratch," even through the comm. line Bulkhead's voice sounded strained, "He's fighting me too much, and I'm afraid to let him get his arms up, he might impale me!"
"It was not I who condoned such violence in the first place," Orion at last answered Ratchet, his tone strained with more than just discomfort.
"Bulkhead!" Ratchet snapped again, "Keep it up and you're going to tear an energon vein in his shoulder!"
"I've—seen—him—like—this—before—Ratchet," Bulkhead grunted as he gave Orion another shove, "As—soon—as—he—can—he'll—take—my—head—off!"
"Orion!" Ratchet let his ire at the entire situation fill his voice, "You need to calm down, stop resisting, or else I cannot help you and Bulkhead will not let you up."
"So you are the Commander of the Autobots I take it," Orion growled again, "Then you are no mere medic…"
Ratchet decided not to go anywhere near that statement, "Be reasonable, Orion. We truly don't mean you any harm…"
"Perhaps not against myself, but certainly against Megatronus."
At the name, Ratchet followed impulse and changed tactics, his tone no longer gentle and pleading, "Megatronus perished eons ago." He answered leadenly.
Such a pronouncement had the very affect that Ratchet desired; it stunned Orion into complacency, halting his struggles, "Impossible."
"No," Ratchet pushed, "Megatronus turned against the Council of Ancients, turned against them and plunged all of Cybertron into civil war. The moment he did so he proclaimed in front of the very Council that he was no longer to be known as Megatronus, but as Megatron leader of the Decepticons."
There was a thick silence that filled the air as Orion considered Ratchet's words, attempting to weigh them against his fragmented memories. But, once he had latched onto a belief, Orion held fast to it, "Impossible," He growled again, renewing his efforts to free himself, "Megatronus forewarned me of the lengths of your deception, you will not turn me against him so easily, my loyalty is truer than that."
"Alright, Ratch—" Bulkhead managed to lift one hand, transforming his fist into his preferred weapon of a comparative wreaking ball, "This isn't working—I can't hold him down much longer—permission to put him out?" Though Bulkhead's spark twisted in pain at the very words, he also had to face the grim truth; in such a confined space, with Optimus' degree of skill, they didn't stand a chance. Just one solid blow to his head would be enough to knock him into stasis… And then? Well, at the moment Bulkhead couldn't afford himself the luxury of thinking that far ahead.
"Wait, Bulkhead, don't!" Ratchet wouldn't give up so easily; he refused to.
"Alright, Orion, fine! I will not try to turn you against Megatronus!" It was to Ratchet's credit that he was able to keep his voice so steady, "But, please listen—"
But, apparently, Orion was done listening. Having felt Bulkhead shift his weight when he lifted a hand to transform it into a relative mace, Orion took advantage of the opportunity that Bulkhead was only holding him down with one arm instead of two. Using the momentum of his own frame, Orion threw his weight to one shoulder, toppling Bulkhead from his perch. Instantly, Orion planted his peds firmly beneath him, bringing both of his arm blades to bear.
"Scrap…" Arcee breathed, but determined none the less, she brought her weapons systems humming to life, transforming her slender arms into two deadly blasters; behind her, she heard the thick hum of Bumblebee's plasma cannons online as he followed suit. If she was going to be off-lined, at least it would be by Optimus' hand rather than Megatron's, the thought, though morbid, at least brought an iota of comfort.
"Bumblebee, protect the children!" Ratchet snapped, then steeling himself, the old doc bot stepped forward, arms spread wide, whatever weapons he did boast of he left them off-line as he moved to place himself directly between Orion and Bulkhead and Arcee. He was well within the range of Orion's blades, but something within his spark urged him on, he had an unshakable faith that somewhere within his frame, Optimus was still there, perhaps just dormant, but still resonating even with Orion. It was such a notion that made Ratchet almost certain that Orion wouldn't attack them; after all, if he had wanted to, Orion could have already cut Ratchet into metal ribbons. But something was staying Orion's hand.
"Orion, "Ratchet tried once more, "Please, be reasonable, we don't mean you any harm…"
"Nor I you…" Orion's voice was thick, heavier than usual. Ratchet narrowed his optics, scanning searching—there. Just as he had warned Bulkhead, he had indeed torn a significant energon line in Orion's shoulder. Even now, drops of the precious liquid trickled from the injury in a rivulet of incandescent blue. Slag, Bulkhead…Ratchet cursed to himself.
Having noted the injury as well, Bulkhead reached out to Ratchet via a private comm. line, "Ratch…I-I didn't mean too…I-I'm sorry…is he going to be okay?"
"He will be if we can get him to calm down enough so he can trust me and so I can treat him." It was hard not to give into the frustration that coursed through Ratchet. He stood there, watching as his leader hemorrhaged an uncomfortable amount of energon and knowing he could do nothing about it. It was maddening.
"I ask that you activate your ground bridge…"Orion paused, steadying himself, "and return me to my ship."
"I cannot do that," Ratchet would be nothing else but honest.
Orion's pitch dropped to a bone rattling basso, "Why?"
"You don't belong there, you belong here!" Like a deftly honed blade, the sound of Miko's higher voice cut cleanly through the air. All eyes and optics turned to regard the young girl as she darted down the stairs toward Orion.
"Miko, no!" Bulkhead exclaimed; the only thing that kept him from barreling through Ratchet to get to Miko was that he feared any sudden movements might be perceived as an attack. Instead, he turned to Orion, "Don't hurt her! She's just a child! She's innocent!"
Innocent…
The word reverberated within Orion, within his spark as he turned to look down at the diminutive girl. Once more she continued to plead, "I know that you don't remember any of us, not yet, but you will, I know you will. You have to try…please Optimus…"
I defend, I protect the innocent…
Cautiously, Orion retracted one of his battle blades, silently regarding Miko, as his focus warred with fragmented memories and what he was now witnessing. Emboldened, she continued forward until she was standing beside Ratchet, directly before Orion.
"Your place is here Optimus!" She repeated emphatically, "not with Megatron! He's nothing but a egotistical tyrant!"
Memory suddenly surged, pushing through the empty veil, as programming forged into him eons ago resurfaced.
I defend, I protect the weak…
Glimpses of a memory, like fragments of a stained glass window, one picture formed from many splices and splinters of color…
Megatronus' voice rolling through him, rasping, harsh and bitter: "You are no brethren of mine, you are weak, a servant of the Council, it is I who should have been Prime, not you…
Ensnared in the memory, caught in its vice-like grasp, Orion staggered backward several steps.
"Orion?" Ratchet ventured.
"Optimus?" Jack called.
Too many identities pulled at him, demanding, weighing down his spark. But who was he?
I defend, I protect the innocent…
Orion shut his optics against the pain that ripped through him, wracking his entire frame with it as once again Megatronus' voice filled his consciousness.
"I am Megatron, Leader of the Decepticons."
That burning scarlet gaze turned upon him, smoldering with unbridled fury. Suddenly he was no longer within the confines of the abandoned military silo, but back upon Cybertron, back home. Around them all lay in ruin, friends slain, their frames frozen in their last moments of agony. Looking into their optics, dull and lifeless, he knew without a doubt in his spark that Megatronus had slain them. That Megatron had done this, "Let the line be drawn between us then, Optimus Prime, Leader of the Autobots."
No. All that was Orion cried out against the memory, willing it to be the warped result of some malfunction, the by-product of corrupted files. No, it could not be true…Megatronus and I were always meant to fight side by side, for freedom, for the rights of all sentient beings…
…Megatronus' voice surged again, growling, "You will yield or you will fall! Peace through tyranny!"
Orion shuddered, still lost within himself, "Megatron…"
"C'mon Optimus! Fight it! You can remember!" Miko cheered. "Megatron is nothing but slag—" But her words were lost, drowned in the ocean of broken memories.
I defend, I protect the weak…I defend, I protect the innocent… from tyranny.
From Megatronus…Megatron…
The file recovery, having been so forcefully implemented manifested itself through physical pain, and Orion moaned, pressing one hand against his aching head, as he sank down onto one knee. Still mindful of Orion's left arm that was still transformed into a keenly honed blade, Bulkhead began to gingerly edge around Ratchet.
"Bulkhead…don't do anything stupid…"Ratchet warned.
"I'm not going to sit here with Miko in danger."
Ratchet couldn't entirely object as he turned his optics back to Orion. His spark told him to throw caution to the wind, to reach out and help him when he was so obviously in pain, while his processor urged him to grab the children and step back. Both, however, were resolute in the assertion that there was little he could do to ease Orion's suffering.
"Miko, I don't know what you did, but I think it just might be working!" Following her lead, Jack and Raf joined her, though not without a shriek from Arcee and a high pitched wail from Bumblebee. Determined, and without a trace of fear, the three humans refused to back down, and this time Jack took the lead, "C'mon Optimus! Remember us!"
"Jack…" Arcee slowly moved closer to him, "I don't think pushing him is the answer right now…" It was spark-wrenching to stand so idly by, doing nothing to help Optimus; Arcee could hardly bear it.
In the end, it was Jack's last words that did indeed push Orion's beleaguered processors too far. His optics flew open, narrowing out of pain and frustration. Though his gaze met Jack's, there was no recognition; Orion still was lost within memories eons old as he growled, "No…I was never meant to bear this burden…this is not how it is supposed to be…I do not accept…Sentinel is Prime…not I…"
For Bulkhead, the angry cacophony of emotions that swirled within Orion's voice decided him; to his audio receptors, violence pulsed within those words. If he didn't do something, anything now, then they might not get another chance. Four steps separated him from where Orion knelt.
Four steps…
Three…
Two…
"Arcee! Ratch! Grab the kids!"
One…
Bulkhead lifted his battle-mace with a shout. Immediately Orion's optics locked onto Bulkhead, his own frame struggling to respond to the threat. His left arm moved sluggishly, his own sword posed to counter the blow even as he tried to rise from his kneeling position. But it was too little, too late, between the tempest ranging within him and the lost of energon, Orion didn't stand a chance. Bulkhead swung, his mace catching Orion just behind his audio finials.
Wordlessly, the blow toppled Orion, his sword automatically retracting, reverting to his left hand once more as he slipped automatically into stasis. For the first time in weeks, as Orion's processors shut down, he knew peace, though it was of the ilk that was to be found within the untrammeled vastness of unconscious oblivion, it was a measure of peace nonetheless.
