12 Magnitude Marissa 7

{present MagnusxMarissa on Earth}

Italics internal thoughts & dreams,

/com-to-com link/

Yeah, you guys are gonna hate me, a lot.

It didn't take long for the Engineer, the General and the Colonel to sort through the new flight craft and swiftly tag the defective ones. Even the rebuilds were discarded. All were in agreement that more good ones arrived than bad ones this time round. The Cornel is hoping her crew will pan out better as well.

Ultra Magnus urges Marissa to contact home while the Autobots saw the loading. She refuses. Picking her up by the collar, he takes her off to the side of the tarmac and kneels. Lowering his voice as well, "Your father has been asking for you. There are numerous messages on your -"

Marissa turns and walks away from the huge mentor and his deep warm spark. He slams his fist into her path and leans in whispering, "Please, as a father… he's calling for you."

She doesn't face him, "You don't understand."

"Face me when you say that," he snaps back as if she had slapped him.

Marissa turns and sees the pain etched into his face.

"That's right, now trying saying it again. I don't understand what it's like to loose the only gift you have of your dead mate and yet eons of words have never been said and now she's slipping away from you? The physical distance is growing as well at the relationship being stretched to it's limits?" He pounds his chest, "Tell me I don't know how it hurts when she is afraid to contact you?"

He sighs heavily and tries once more, "This maybe your last chance, Marissa. This might be HIS last chance. Go ahead, tell me again how I don't know how a father feels to loose his daughter."

Marissa can't move. He's right. But more than that, she hurts because she has hurt him…. Them. After all this time of her kicking him in the aft to be a father, here he is now telling her to be a daughter. Both of them reminding each other that they are more than soldiers, they are members of a dying family.

Lowering her head from his burrowing painful optics, pulls out her cell and walks away from her interrogating friend. Only after he hears, "Hi Daddy…" does he walk away and give her privacy.

~~00~~

Over seeing the loading, Ultra Magnus makes sure his shuttle is well care for. Meticulous, he makes sure not one crate is shorted of supplies either. Gathering his team, rounds his crew aboard. Marissa get her team established and signs off on all official documentation. A complete role reversal.

Here the Autobots are thought of secondly and warily. Back on Cybertron, the humans are a liability and at times a nuisance. A necessary nuisance though.

When darkness arrives, the shuttle prepares to leave. With a final head count, Marissa and Ultra Magnus board last. She immediately leaves to see to her new recruits settled for take off. Ultra Magnus takes the command deck overseeing his shuttle's launch. The roles have flipped again; he is first, she is second in command. It's a dance they do on these Earth trips. One they have mastered. Almost like they… were meant to be a team.

Shaking that thought aside, the Colonel plunges on with her duties. Marissa can already see who isn't going to work out, but luckily none will be a problem during the flight to Cybertron. With a nod to her TIC, Colonel Fairborn makes her way to her make-shift quarters to rest.

"Colonel Fairborn to Commander's office." The ship wide com pings. Marissa fists her palms. He did it this way so she can't ignore the request. Everyone will know she has been called and know where she will be if they need her. He leaves her no way to bow out.

Marissa takes her time heading to the Commander's office which on this ship also doubles as his personal quarters. His door is open awaiting her. Entering, Marissa looks to up to his desk and sighs heavily. Magnus is going through his data reports.

"Colonel," his door slides closed, "Certainly took your time, didn't you?"

She knows better than to quip back. For his tone is not in strife, but concern. His hand comes out and reluctantly she climbs aboard the callused palm. It may be a short trip up to the desk top, but it's enough time for her indulge her optics to the lines and warmth of his ungloved-palm. She even pans her own hand out across a scar. This hand wields death, like hers. This hand carefully guides his troops. This hand, made love to someone and created his beautiful daughter. This hand…

Lowers her to the desk top. "Marissa?"

Tearing her gaze from the palm, she steps down. In a rare change of posture, he crosses his arms on the desk, and rests his cheek on them so he can look at her close and tenderly.

Marissa sinks to the desktop, his gaze melting her. How can he do that? How can he be all firm and rigid and yet with her, melt into… a human?

"Are you alright, Marissa? We haven't talked about that night and…"

"Mags," her throat chokes on the sweet nick name tugging an amused smile from his lips. "Please, leave it alone. There's… noth-" her heart breaks.

There's nothing there for us.

She doesn't finish. His optics fall shut at the unfinished sentence.

"Stay with me tonight." He begs.

"No." She shakes her head trying to be all professional, "I have reports-"

"That will wait. Both of us are on this down time cycle. Please, …. I need you."

He pleaded. How can she say no to that tone? He never pleads. He never needs. She just stares into those cracking open tropical optics again. Without another word, he wraps her in his warm hand and carries her to his berth. Curling to his side, pulling the blanket over himself, he tucks is soft hand to his throat like a child with a stuffed toy. Marissa too rolls to her side in his soft fist and pulls a finger over herself like a blanket.

The lovers (but not) hold each other close and in and intimacy very few else can understand. Sleep and tenderness pulls them into darkness surrounded by comforting friendship.

~~00~~

I know this is a dream but it feels so real. Too real. The sight on my rifle has the twisting Seekers perfectly framed. The purple~orange Decepticon is viciously trying to counter and turn the tides of this dogfight. But that white one with the chocolate swirls refuses to let him have the upper hand. It's up to the Air Commander, for I can't take the shot. If I do, I most certainly will kill the wrong one and my spark will shatter.

Finally Cyclonous breaks away, out of my scope's frame, giving up the fight with the sweet white femme in pursuit of his true mission. She won't have it. Arching backwards, like a dancer bowing back against the palm of my hand, I watch her curl back and come in under the purple commander. She fires not to kill, but to singe tender and delicate underbelly sections. Her missiles will leave a burning sensation screwing with his ability to focus and hit his targets. He will have to give the mission to another. That will be a major blow to the Air Commander's ego to give up the mission to his underling. I can not stop myself from chuckling.

She's not done. Kicking on an extra burst of speed, I loose her in the smoke and carnage. Retraining my rifle, I begin picking off Decepticon troops stalking my Wreckers who are trying to undermine their plans to blow us to bits. It's a tug of war dance we play. My troops will not cower, nor will theirs.

A particularly loud explosion sends shards of hot rock and debris raining down on me. Hot metal makes it's way down my collar sticking and burning my protoform where it stills. Screaming through the carnage comes an angel buzzing my swiftly bowing helm. She never would have hit me, but damn she is a tease!

Flipping over in a lovely barrel roll, lands just out of my reach. As I stand, she strides forward. That EMC helm of hers with the golden eagle across the brow swoops it's wings back like Mercury. From under the helmet, bouncing across her shoulders are those chocolate curls of beauty. Yes, it's human hair on a femme-bot's body, but that's the way my imagination works. The pert wings on her back are upright and proud.

Retracting her visor, I see the chocolate diamond optics of hers. Reaching one finger out, she pushes the hot muzzle of my rifle to the side while sliding the other tender palm up my breast and over my shoulder to latch onto my nape and tug. I only have time to cant my helm a bit before those strawberry lips of hers take possession of mine. She already has my spark, let her take my ability to speak.

I never thought I could love again, and yet, here she is letting me know I am her one-and-only. Her hand covers mine helping me latch the rifle to my hip so my other hand will be free to hold her. She wants both hands on her. Oh Primus she is kissing away my duty as Commander and I don't give a fig if there is a war going on. Let it all burn to the ground, for I have everything I need right here in my arms.

With her other hand free, she releases my helmet and shoves it off my head. Communication with my troops has been cut by the thud and the weight of my title crashing into the carnage below. Let them think I have died, for I have. Her hand graces my crest and fondles it respectively. She finds the dips and swirls. She lets the tips threat through the spaces of her fingers.

"Marissa…" I can only breathe her name for I haven't the power to do anything else. It hurts to think. It is peace to say her name. It pains to believe there is another world. It eases to feel her beneath my tips.

My hand graces her slim back to her broad hip. The other comes up her spine to cup a wing that brought her into my arms. She mewls to the caresses. I smile. She bends back in want of more. I lean in and snuff the sweetness of her essence. My lips play upon her throat and nibble at her ear. I shove her own ranked helmet off. She has died too. She is mine now. Not the EMC, not the Autobots. Just us.

"I shall make you mine."

"I already am."

"Shall I finalize it?"
"You shall," she confirms my desires.

Is it corny of a mech of my size and title to consider making love to among the rubble and warfare? I do not give a damn. Her cries of my name drown out the cries of death and destruction going on around us. My body blocks out her view of her teammates dying without her to guide them to safety. I will take her away from all of this. I pray that if Primus is kind, he will kill us both as our sparks are merged and we will never experience the loss of each other ever ag-

"General. General?"

Ultra Magnus hisses to his title tearing him a breath-away from being mated ….again. Opening his optics, he looks down to his hand. His angel has flown. He's alone… like usual.

But the war goes on, and so must life.

~~~00~~

With the shuttle sliding home into Hangar Bay 2, Optimus and Firelock meet him. The royal blue helm straight and regal on his hidden soft crest meets his superior and his daughter's future.

Optimus holds his hand out, "Welcome home, Ultra Magnus."

"Hm," is all he answers back taking the hand.

Optimus frowns. Firelock finds his pedes quite interesting at this point.

Prime nods to Firelock, "Why don't you assist with the unloading, I need to speak to the General."

Firelock shoots his grandfather a grateful look, while Ultra Magnus shoots daggers at his CO. Swiftly Firelock does as ordered. Optimus motions, "Walk with me."

Ultra Magnus already knows that soft look in Optimus optics, "No, I have duties to perform." He shoves past him.

"Yes you do, as her father as do I as his grandfather." The once father commands. The royal blue and white one continues on his way. "Magnus, please."

"I heard you. I'll see him later, right now, I need to breathe," and heads out of the hangar not knowing that a pair of chocolate eyes watched him leave.

As soon as the EMC personal were settled, her SIC getting her caught up and emergencies handled, Marissa made her way to her quarters. Among some personal supplies restocked, a few packages her father had sent to her Earth mail box. No, she never did get in direct contact with him. What Magnus had heard was her leaving a message. Disappointed, yes. Relieved, yes. But there isn't time to dwell on that.

Opening the first box from her father, she finds her grandmother's journals. The original Colonel Fairborn who had worked with Guardian Magnus years ago. Before she can read about her work with Magnus, she needs to find out how she became EMC. Marissa settles back and begins to read.

Her grandmother was incredible and yet this explains a whole lot about her father and his relationship with his daughter. Eye opening to say the least.

~~~00~~~~

Ultra Magnus take a deep sigh sitting on the roof top of The Hall of Records. Things are getting back to normal. Oh who the hell was he kidding, what was normal anymore? Right now, Optimus Prime is down stairs with his son-in-law. The bi-Primes.

Tough old coot Ironhide had a son ,Wroughtiron, now bonded to Rod's daughter (and Optimus' granddaughter). The current CMO. What a change to see his friends children grown and taking on the new world responsibilities.

'Good mech,'

Magnus muses. 'Both Optimus and Rod should be happy that Fire Lilly chose a good mech to bond with. 'Iron will treat Lilly well.'

"Hey is this a spot reserved for brooding Generals only or can a Colonel join you?"

Magnus turns to the female voice near his pedes. He silently lifts Marissa to the wall and returns his elbows to propping up his chin. Marissa leans her back against his elbow and stretches her legs out clasping her hands behind her neck. He casts a glance at her, and then back to what he is observing.

His beloved daughter sitting on the roof of the building just a couple kliks over. Her back is resting up against Firelock's chest with his chin resting on her helm and his bent knees on either side of her own bent knees encasing her with his body. Their fingers are entwined on her knees. A tender moment for lovers looking out over the vastness of the city the Autobot are trying so hard to defend and rebuild. A hope. A future. And directly before him is two new beginnings who are living examples of miracles, with all the possibilities of creating more… if he would just give her his blessing

.

Marissa lets a hand reach into the joint of his armor touching his sensitive under armor. He shivers. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologizes.

He turns his gaze away from his daughter to the beauty beside him. He gives her a lit of a smile, "It's alright. How are you?"

Marissa touches him again, this time he doesn't shiver but some more of the hardness in his optics drop, "Don't give me that crap, Magnus. What is going on inside that spark of yours?" They still haven't talked of that drunken night.

Magnus turns back to the couple and softly answers, "He asked me for her spark."

"And?"

Magnus turns back to the human, "And what?"

Marissa touches him again. But this time she pinches the under armor. For as light as touch the was, he still felt it and grimaces. "And what did you say?"

Magnus rolls his face into his palm rubbing his optics, "I told him it wasn't mine to give. It was hers."

Marissa soothes the underarmor this time, "Well there's progress. Looks like you're growing up after all." It's a jab back at him prodding her to grow up with her own father.

He does not take it kindly. Just for that, he yanks back his arms letting her fall back onto the wide wall. Scowling down at her, "THIS is exactly why I didn't let it out that she was my daughter. I'm tired of being teased for my soft spark. Everyone knows I have one and I've spent so much time guarding it and leading these bots and watching Primes fall to their deaths!"

With that, he turns had heads for the door. She can tell he is wounded by pushing the limits of their friendship. But he isn't being completely honest with her either. Those journals are showing that Magnus had been a good friend to the past Cornel Fairborn. She has to know if Magnus sees Marissa or Leah.

"Tell me about my grandmother!" She bellows when his hand reaches for the door controls.

He snaps back without looking at her, "No," and unlatches the door.

"Then tell me about us." She challenges him. That does freeze his movements. "Mags?"

He turns and tips his chin ever so softly over his shoulder, "Is there an us? I don't see how?" A jab back at how she is not being honest with him either. Keepign her own secrets.

Marissa pulls, sitting up right, nearly the exact same pose as his daughter two rooftops over. Chin and arms hunched and wrapped around her knees protectively. "I… thought there was… a friendship."

Ultra Magnus chokes on his words, "So you thought." He walks through that door and

lets is close behind his hunched back. Marissa drops her forehead to her knees and moans. His words reverberate in her heart. His tone was not in a punch. It was in want. He wasn't pushing her away, no, he desired more. But how? How could there ever be more?

~~00~~

Within days the news comes in that the Protecto-bots and Wreckers have been waiting for. Ultra Magnus and Rodimus make their plans with Springer. Marissa understands full well it is NOT a mission for humans. Too toxic and far far too dangerous. This one will leave her at home. Yes, Cybertron is home now.

With a final look to her compatriot, she gives the Wreckers her blessings, "Bring 'em home boys." They all know this could go either tragically bad or a blessingly fulfilled of promise.

One of those missions where everyone has a bad feeling. But the Matrix and Primus were not going to be helpful or prepare them for what is to come. Some how, everyone knew, it had to be done. The bondmates to the Protecto-bots had been POW's for far too long. And now they had a chance. Win, loose, or draw, their imprisonment was over. With Wroughiron on special assignment, First Aide nearly glitching for his mate sending as hard as he could in the chapel with his brothers, that left Wheeljack to hold down the med-bay. He really wanted to be out there helping with the fight, but knew Topspin was out there. He sighed. And waited.

Out on the battlefield….. Rodimus has Roller clenched to his bicep with Firelock in his flame thrower mode clenched tightly in his hands moving closer to the huge mass of emerging Morgans. Ultra Magnus, Springer, and a handful of other Autobots are doing their best to hold them back as well.

Rodimus can see an opening, but with the way these Morgans are advancing, it isn't going well. The femmes are trapped, the building is collapsing and burning around them. The femmes are going to die before they are rescued. Right before the grieving Autobots and grinning Morgan optics.

/Magnus, take 'Lock. Springer, Drift, Perceptor, to my left. See it?/ The bots all pinged they saw the opening. /When I move, go fast, do not stop. That roof is going to go quickly. Magnus, Lock, you must cover them./

Magnus does not like the way that sounded, /Rodimus, what are you thinking?/

/Bond them, Mags./ With that he yanks Roller from his arm with a squeal of protest from the little drone. Slamming him to his fire-powered son, raises the rife to his face. "I love you, bond with her." With that final word, kisses the rifle, twists and throws him to the Primes' SIC.

Magnus jumps on top of the burm he was using as a foxhole. Roaring to his troops

"MOOOOOOVE!" and catches Rodimus Prime's weaponed-son. Instantaneously raises the weapon-bot to fire at the Morgans rushing his advancing troops.

Out of the corner of his optic he sees the flamed-Prime rip his spoiler tips from his back. Brandishing the twin razor sharp boomerangs, "You want me bastards, come and get me!"

Ultra Magnus can't watch the full fury of the young Prime in order to follow his own task, but it isn't hard to miss the flying fur and blaze of twirling angry orange.

Springer's team is successful in cutting through the wall and yanking the femmes out. Each mech had two femmes and are scurrying as fast as they can back to Xanthium.

Rodimus' Morgans opponents are wearing him down, but Springer's Morgans are advancing as well. Ultra Magnus is torn. His own weapons are not enough to hold them both off. He has to have Firelock and Roller in order to be successful against this many. He growls in his own frustration watching it all crumble. Just as Springer's team is over the rise and in the safety of Xanthium's guards, Magnus turns to defend his Prime, but…

One last Morgan sniper on the roof top rose a weapon Ultra Magnus knew the Prime just can not defeat. And the sniper is out of Firelock's firing range. Firelock, Ultra Magnus and Roller all cried out, but it is drowned out by the disrupter's beam reducing the Flamed Prime's spark to atoms and tiny molecules. The Autobot warning cry melted into a roar of grief.

Ultra Magnus' felt his cry rippling straight for his spark never making it to his throat.

The resulting simultaneous explosion of Rodimus' hidden hip bound grenades and volatile Energon-blood along with Primus last blessing of igniting it all with atom-shards of a Prime's exploding Spark took out the surrounding Morgans and blinded the sniper. Ultra Magnus turns himself and Firelock aside as the Prime dies.

If it hadn't been for that grief bound moment, they too would have been blinded and they never would have seen one last femme. Well actually, it wasn't the actual femme he sees, just one broken propeller blade of brass. As swiftly as he can Ultra Magnus runs towards it. "Primus I beg of thee, please, oh please… help me save one more."

The blue mech hasn't run this hard or this fast in a long time. "Firelock, I need your help, please." Firelock transforms into his bi-ped form and run beside his panting commander. Sliding to their knees, and then their bellies, they scrambled to pull debris aside. Ultra Magnus continues to pray, uncovering a hand and then an arm. "I'm going to lift, you have to pull her out, okay?"

Firelock's emotions numb and vocorder silent, but processor focused on the orders. Shoving his shoulders under the fallen wall and beams, Magnus raises to all four and lifting the impediment with his broad back. Firelock pulls and pulls. Magnus' arms began to shake, but the younger mech kepts pulling. Just when Magnus thought his shoulders and arms would break, he hears the grunt from the femme and the croaked "Got her," from the orphaned mech.

Explosions can be heard of a disrupter headed their way. On top of that Sunstreaker is calling, /Sir, you have to hurry. They're headed for us./

/Scoop us up./ The General orders. /Rodimus is dead/ letting the golden yellow pilot know they would be the last two aboard. And Xanthium's engines changed pitch in replied banking. Standing, hefting the femme over his shoulder, he turns to the dazed orange mech, "Ever make a running leap to board?"

" ..not lik…like th this." He is shaking.

Magnus knows Firelock couldn't fail now. Not so close to getting him home and following Rodimus Prime's last order. A personal request to bind their families together. "Just follow me. I'll show you how it's done, soldier."

With that, they ran. Magnus keeps Firelock either beside or ahead of him. Xanthium comes in over their heads and drops in low. It is going to be close, too close. "NOW!"

The two mechs run faster and harder than they ever had in their lives. The last of their energy can afford to be spent making this leap. Once aboard they can rest. The disrupter beam is cutting their way and coming closer with every step trying to tear the groud out from under them. With a last effort, Magnus reaches over, catches the kid's back plate and shoves him onto the ramp. With a tremendous leap of his own, just barely made it aboard before the beams cut the ground beneath his heal. In fact, it cut a piece of his heal off!

"Slag!" he hisses in pain.

"MOOOVE!" Kup bellowed reaching down to drag Firelock into the safety of the ship's belly chamber. Magnus scrambles up and watched the beam cut away the ramp below him. "GO SUNNY!"

Slamming his fist to the wall, the secondary barrier shield engages as another piece of the ramp is cut away and Sunstreaker yanks the ship into a ninety degree yaw, throwing Magnus and Firelock's backs to the shield. Magnus is panting, Firelock is catatonic, the femme limp between them.

Given a few minutes, the ship levels out. Kup and Springer reached out. Springer take the femme from Magnus so he can get his feet under him. Kup curls the younger soldier to his support seeing how he was pretty messed up in the processor having just watched his father die.

Springer looks to Ultra Magnus for confirmation to Sunstreaker's information. All he had to do was look to the son, and knows it is all too true. Kup pulls all the kid's weight to him and towards his sire's quarters. Springer looked down to the battered body in his arms, "This looks like Seastar."

Ultra Magnus nods, "I know. Get her to Topspin, right now. I need to contact Optimus." Springer nods silently.

Watching the great blue and white mech limp towards the communications station, he does not envy the report his has to give. Another Prime is dead in the line of battle. This one will not be returning. On top of that, Ultra Magnus has out lived another.

A fist goes through a crate in passing. Everyone else looks to Springer for support. The green triple changer pulses out to his own blue and pink mate lying in their berth carrying their future.

a/n

Update Dec 31, 2012 Thank you KayleeChiara for helping me save face. Forgive me members of the military world & family for using the wrong Colonel/Cornel. I promise you to do a complete editing soon for the last 11 chapters soon. You know you are golden nuggets in my heart even if I failed to use the correct spelling.

Yes, more to come. And sorry folks to do this to Rodimus. Reunion for the Protecto bots and ...One special white bot. {Unless you already read Bombs Away, then you know}

Rest in peace: Norman Schwarzkopf