Chapter Ten
Optimus Prime was dead.
And as Prowl stood over his decimated carcass, he couldn't help but appreciate the irony that it was the very species their leader had sought to protect who had destroyed him, albeit, unintentionally. Of course, such intentions or lack thereof, would mean little to the surviving Autobots when they would inevitably learn of their commander's fall.
The statistician reflected back on the events, trying to pinpoint the purpose, the logic and the reason behind it all. What made it hard for him, that pressed hard upon his logic circuits, was the fact that there was no logic.
Sparkplug had once engaged in a conversation with the logically minded Autobot about how he need not worry about the initiation of a nuclear exchange. MAD. Was what the war weary human had said.
Mutually Assured Destruction.
You launch your missiles at me, I will launch them back at you, and while the first strike of yours may take out a large section of mine, I will still have enough left to destroy you.
The concept and understanding that if you pushed that button, a target would be immediately settled upon your own head. There could never be a looser in a nuclear exchange, no matter how "limited" or "restrained", the fruits of nuclear war lay themselves about the Autobot, a smouldering ruination of human society and of human stupidity.
"Prowl?"
Skids approached him and softly spoke his name again.
"What is it, Skids?"
"What do we do?"
Prowl stood motionless for a moment longer, not bothering to answer the anthropologist.
"Please, Prowl, we need to leave, we need to do something… anything… and Optimus, what do we do with him?"
"Prime is dead, there is nothing we can do for him".
"I mean, what do we do with his body? We can't leave him here… the humans…"
"Are certainly in no condition to obtain Prime's chassis for whatever research you fear they may conduct".
"Prowl…"
"Please, Skids, now is not the time for fears or illogical assumptions and behaviours".
"All I'm saying is look at the situation we're in, look at what we have to deal with, and Prime is dead".
"Again, Skids, I am well aware of Prime's condition. But if his current lack of funerary considerations is what bothers you, and giving him some level of "respect" is what will calm you and ensure your full co-operation in our actions then logically affording his body some measure of cover can be justified".
Skids walked away from the tactician and began pulling the side off an exposed sub-way train; the concrete road that once acted as a roof over its domain had been ripped free, resulting in a huge crevice. He clambered up from his position on the edge of the hole and lay the piece of metal over Prime, not being enough he returned for more. It took the smaller Autobot at least 40 minutes to completely cover his fallen leader, Prowl spent the time taking in the surrounds, or rather, the devastation that had been forced on the surroundings. Skids said nothing, his thoughts about the callousness of the officer kept secretly to himself.
When Skids had finished his morbid job, he said a quick prayer to a deity he wasn't sure he believed in any more and then turned back to Prowl, waiting for some cold words of instruction. His optics met the superior's and the two regarded each other quietly for a moment, a human cry cut through their uncomfortable silence. Skids turned, taking a step towards the voice.
"No, Skids, we don't have time, nor do we have the resources".
"Prowl, sir, with all due respect, you had time to stand around watching me cover our leader, then we have time to find out who needs help".
"Look around, Skids, do you see any circumstances in which humans won't need help? We don't have time to deal with their actions. Prime made it very clear we are never to engage ourselves into their politics or self made disasters'.
"Then what the Pit are we supposed to do?"
"Tracks is currently in New York, our most logical course of action is to establish communication with him, if we discover he has met the same fate as Optimus then we must return to Autobot City, if only to ascertain its condition. Failing that, a sufficiently reasonable course of action would be to head to the Ark, it is currently meched, and in all probability it will be being prepared to cater to our needs".
"Doesn't seem right".
"Its not what's about right or wrong, Skids, its about what's logical, what we can afford to do with our limited resources, and what Prime has previously ordered".
"What about the Matrix?"
"Best to leave it in situ. The Decepticons are the only ones who may have any knowledge of it, but it'd be unlikely that they'd seek out Prime's corpse given the circumstances. Not to mention, the radiation levels coupled with the EMP residue and debris within the atmosphere would hinder their efforts to scan for Autobot signatures. If we were too take the Matrix, we could come across Decepticons who would attack us and as there are only two of us, we would subsequently be outnumbered, we would loose the Matrix. Furthermore, the humans have no knowledge about the Matrix and would not be able to open Prime's casing to obtain it if they were were".
"This is ridiculous! We can't…"
"Skids, we cannot waste further time on discussions of this level of futility. Transform, heading New York".
The remains of Washington were a sad state of affairs, and Skids mourned the devastation as he drove slowly along the damaged roads. Prowl seemed untouched by the horrors they passed through. What grabbed Skid's attention, he saw no human survivors within the city limits.
The roads from Washington were littered with abandoned cars, most upturned, a few burning, perhaps from flaming debris that had struck them.
"Prowl, what are your sensors telling you about the yield".
Skids asked, as they passed along the burning outskirts of Columbia, which also looked to have taken a hit.
"Given the damage, the geographical area and the intensity of the fire storms, the approximate yield of the device that struck Washington would have been in the vicinity of 60 megatons.
"Holy Primus".
"I would wager, that that particular deity would have nothing to do with this situation".
"So would this damage be caused by the blast from Washington or another blast?"
"Another device was ground burst, according to my scanners, but it only seems to have been a 2 megaton yield. Regardless, survivors will be at a bare minimum due to the level of radiation".
The roads on the other side of Columbia were in a similar condition but slowly became a more drivable. Smaller towns on the outskirts were filled with panicking humans, many looting and committing various criminal acts. They had already passed several dead humans who had not been killed by the blasts or its poisonous affects. Forests and parks burned without hindrance, their flames closing in on the small seemingly untouched human towns and villages. Eventually, though, Skids had to realise that Prowl was right, he had to just drive along the empty roads, shutting himself off to the reality of the natives' suffering.
Eventually the remains of New York were in view, and like Washington, it was not a pleasant sight. What had been the centre of the large metropolis was nothing but an increasing fire storm, branching out into the suburbs and burning through the last remaining piles of rubble, the usually expected funnel of smoke billowed upwards, adding the ashen remains of people and building alike into the skies.
"Are we actually going to head into that?"
Skids asked as he realised Prowl was slowing down and so matched speed.
"No. It would be illogical".
"Then how are we supposed to find Tracks?"
"While our communication abilities are down due to the EMP, our internal sensor grids have a built in ability to pick up on like signatures, meaning, other Autobot signatures. If Tracks is still online, he will be alerted that we are in the region, and if we move along the outskirts, eventually we will lock onto his signature".
"I didn't know that".
"It is a standard sensor relay; I'm surprised you have not heard of it".
"Guess I never had to use it".
"That would be a logical assumption on your part".
Prowl transformed and took several steps over the cab of a fallen crane, Skids followed suit.
"Do you think we will find Tracks?"
"You make multiple enquiries".
"I'm a social scientist, its what I do".
Prowl looked down and found himself staring at a pile of dead humans, it unsettled him, particularly because of their ages, younglings.
"Skids, avert your optical sensors and look forward".
Skids didn't have time to follow the other's suggestion, but he realised he was going to be seeing a lot more of it, so he didn't see a point in mourning these ones.
"Do you think this is their end? Their extinction?"
"You're the social scientist, if I were so inclined to know, I'd ask you that question".
"I guess you're right… wait… I'm getting something on my sensor grid, its alerting me to an Autobot signature".
"North east, two thousand three hundred metres".
Prowl responded as he hurried his pace and started to head inwards towards the worst of the destruction.
Tracks was found, in car mode, his wheels facing skyward, an assortment of small rubble and glass sprinkled over him.
"Tracks? Tracks! Can you hear me?"
Skids asked as he jumped down into the storm water drain that the corvette lay in.
"Prowl, I will need your help rolling him".
The tactician climbed down into the ditch and alongside Skids, they rolled their colleague over.
"Tracks is going to have a melt down when he sees his finish".
Prowl stated, though it sounded rather stiff.
"Was that a joke?"
Skids chortled.
It was a rare moment of humour in an otherwise humourless situation.
"Oh slag! Raoul!"
The blue Autobot gasped as he looked in the back passenger window and saw the small unconscious human, a trickle of blood dried on his chin.
"Tracks is in stasis, the EMP burst coupled with the force of the blast has damaged his reset function. He can't wake from stasis until either his self repair functions sort out this problem or until we can get him medically assessed".
"And Raoul?"
"Neither of us have any knowledge pertinent to human anatomy and physiology, the best we can do is insure Raoul is secure in the backseat and tow Tracks to Autobot City. Now its best we leave, before survivors start demanding assistance".
Prowl said as he noted a few humans clambering over the remains of a what had once been a school.
Skids transformed while Prowl attached Tracks to Skids via a chain. He gave no more consideration to the environment around him, and folded down into his car mode.
It was time to leave this once great city to the dead.
Author's NB:
Apologies for any quirks of American geography, I used Google maps to see where American cities and locations were. If I have any offensively horrific oversights, feel free to correct me.
This website has provided me with hours of amusement (a certain website does not provide ability to link)
carloslabs dot com foward slash node foward slash 16
"Tsar Bomba" Holy crap. I tested it on the closest major city, and I live about 30 (driving 100kph) minutes out, and I'd still get fried.