XXI - Alpha, Omega

"Forgive me, Lord Megatron. While I do not question the wisdom of our tactical retreat," Dreadwing said aboard the bridge of the Nemesis, standing behind his master, "know that I am fully prepared to lead our troops in a counterattack against the Autobots."

"Counterattack?" Megatron exclaimed, turning to face his first lieutenant. "Perhaps you failed to notice Optimus Prime cleave an entire mountain with a single blow. With the Star Saber in his possession, my enemy can obliterate us all with a wave of his servo! But fortunately for we Decepticons, I have recently acquired a powerful bargaining chip."

Dreadwing was incredulous. "You are suggesting that we would cure Starscream and hand him back to the Autobots in exchange for the Star Saber?"

"Indeed."

"Though I understand your motives, that action would hardly tip the balance of power back in our favor, my liege." Dreadwing countered respectfully with clipped syllables. "That aside, do we not also possess a powerful relic of the Ancients?"

The warlord hummed thoughtfully, "Yes; the Forge of Solus Prime. But it is the equal of any other hammer, unless in the servos of a Prime." But then an idea began to dawn on the warlord, and he cackled with triumph. "But I might wield that power, if I were to control such a servo."

"Optimus, what's the Big 'A' saying?" Smokescreen prodded, watching the Prime gaze in blank rapture at the sword in his servos. Optimus ignored him, still staring at the Star Saber, drinking in its light. Then suddenly, he seemed to snap out of a trance and groaned, sinking to the ground.

Arcee rushed over, "Optimus, are you alright?"

"I am fine, Arcee." He rumbled, already standing back up.

Smokescreen bounced on his pedes, "So, did Alpha Trion ask about me?"

Bulkhead shoved the eager white mech out of the way, "What was the message?!"

Optimus swept his gaze over his fellow Autobots as a breeze whistled past them, "It is paramount that we recover the four remaining Iacon relics: the Omega Keys."

His words didn't have quite the effect he had anticipated. "Keys?" Arcee asked.

[To what?] Bumblebee chirped.

"To the regeneration of our home planet." The Prime stated solemnly.

The Nemesis floated far above the Earth, a gleaming blue and green marble miles upon miles beneath it. A bright, passing flash of light signaled the orbit of an artificial satellite too distant to make out the details of, and vanished once again into the void opposite it came. "Earth's moon is a barren rock, is it not?" Dreadwing said to his master from atop the flight deck over a comm. Megatron responded across the link, albeit he was standing right next to the mech. Sound couldn't traverse through space, after all.

"Indeed, Dreadwing. But the moon is not our destination." The warlord replied matter-of-factly. As the warship drew closer to said "barren rock," a space bridge peeked out from the other side. They passed by so close to the moon's surface that when their sharp optics zoomed in on the dusty surface, the blue Seeker thought he might have glimpsed a red-and-white striped flag. But it was gone in an instant and he shook his helm slightly, boiling it down to his imagination.

He jerked his attention back to the task at hand as Megatron looked at him with intense optics, "A space bridge?"

"Our very own." Megatron answered. "Relocated here after the Autobots discovered its whereabouts on Earth. The dark side of the moon is hidden from prying human eyes," he stated, "and more importantly, well out of the Autobots' reach. Come, Dreadwing!" He ordered, back to business. "We shall travel to the one place in the galaxy which may provide us with a means of defeating Optimus Prime." He ran forwards and with a swift leap, transformed and flew off into space, the blue Seeker right behind him as the pair flew through the space bridge.

I moaned softly and pried open my optics. The back of my helm throbbed terribly. A smooth, lukewarm surface rested beneath me, pressing up against my wings. Dull, hazy, purple lighting shone down from an unknown source. A familiar red mech stood over me, his servos planted on his hips in a patronizing sort-of way.

"You're much more likeable in stasis." He said, dropping his servos.

My voice was raspier than normal, "What did I miss…?" My helm throbbed with each beat of my spark.

The medic sighed, "Not much. But you're not going to like where we are…" he trailed off, scrutinizing my frame.

"Wh-where are we?" I asked, my voice thick with exhaustion as I watched him behind bleary optics.

"In the med bay," my mind was still too muddled to discern whether he was being intentionally vague or not. "Your systems were fraught with glitches—namely your processor. That shot you took to the helm from Arcee wasn't doing you any favors, nor was, well, all the emotional strain recent events have put on you…" Knock Out cleared his throat awkwardly, "and I surmised that the seemingly impossible act Optimus did with that sword, well…" his tone was laced with awe as he shook his helm, "one doesn't have to be a doctor to guess at the consequences. But you were only out for a short while, so that counts for something."

I sighed, "I do feel a bit better now, doctor."

He smirked, "Of course you do, I'm the doctor here, aren't I?" The medic puffed his chest plate out arrogantly.

"Come closer," I whispered.

He leaned in expectantly and I slapped him.

Knock Out jumped back reflexively, his tone becoming shrill. "What was that for?!"

I didn't answer and instead pushed myself into a sitting position, leaning back on my arms as I tilted my helm upwards and drank in my surroundings. I was about to reply, but then the air was whisked out of my vents. The med bay I was in was familiar, alright, terribly familiar. I was aboard the Nemesis, I realized with shock. A large part of me suddenly wished that I could spontaneously black out again, sparing me from the horror.

I trembled, "No, this can't… there's no way…"

"Easy," Knock Out said softly, putting on a gentle expression that looked forced as he laid a servo on my arm.

I whimpered, only shaking harder, "No… please, we couldn't have… no!"

"Easy," the medic repeated gently, trying to sound as placating as possible, but his tone had tensed. His other arm groped for something I couldn't make out behind his back.

I shot upright, my servo clasping his arm with wide optics. I was quaking badly now. "We can't stay here! We have to leave! Do you hear me?!" something suddenly snapped, "WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE! WE CAN'T STAY!" I shrieked hysterically. "WE HAVE TO LEAVE! PLEASE, WE HAVE TO! WE CAN'T STAY HERE! MEGATRON, HE'S–"

Something sharp stabbed into my arm and I relaxed almost immediately. The world acquired a slight haze to it.

"If you keep screaming like that, Megatron will be sure to come down and investigate," he reasoned matter-of-factly with a scowl, discarding a syringe.

I took a shuddering intake and attempted to steel my frayed nerves, shuttering my optics. "You're right, you know. But why are we—how did we end up here?"

"The Big 'M' snatched you up right after Prime had cleaved the mountain in two. I still don't believe it–"

"Same here." My optics opened again. I despised the images that popped up behind my optics when they were closed, scenes from battles new and old, things I didn't want on my conscience.

"Point is," he said, crossing his arms in annoyance while giving me a sharp rap back into reality, "we're now Megatron's hostages." I tried to get to my pedes but the doctor pushed me back down, "Ah, ah, you can go stomp around when I say you can. That sedative will be out of your system in a minute or so."

I huffed, frowning at him. "Fine… if we are Megatron's hostages, what's the ransom?"

Our conversation died at the sound of light pedfalls outside the med bay's doors. "Quick!" Knock Out hissed, "Pretend you're still down!"

I complied silently, save for an irritated and nervous whimper. Allowing my intakes to even, I shuttered my optics once again, trying to relax. My tense chassis insisted otherwise and the doors opened.

Sporadic trembles still ran down the Seeker's lithe frame, looking more like he was having a nightmare than anything else. The sedative had worn off. Knock Out stared down at the clone with pity, then anger at the mech that had done this to him. The mech that had traumatized Starscream, and in turn, Seven, well past hysteria and even to the brink of insanity at times. To the point that the medic had slipped into a habit of readying sedatives after every round of Megatron's "discipline" in case the poor bot had a fit, like the one he just used. He shook his helm, spitting a few obscenities at the warlord beneath his vocalizer as Soundwave walked in, no doubt hearing some of the rainbow flowing from the medic's mouth.

Knock Out looked up. "Oh, Soundwave, it's you. What do you need, or does Lord Megatron require something?"

The blue mech walked deeper into the room, silent as always, looking to Seven. A violet question mark popped up on his visor.

"You heard the commotion?" The medic sighed again, suddenly looking uncharacteristically weary. "He woke up and freaked. I had to, ah…" the question mark vanished. "What do you require?" The medic repeated.

Soundwave slowly raised an arm and pointed with a long, slender finger to the screens next to the berth Seven laid on, the clone still feigning the appearance of catatonia.

"Oh, those? They aren't monitoring his vitals, as he's only suffering from various stress reactions…" the medic trailed off. Seven's chassis stiffened. The silent mech then nodded and backed out of the room, having to attend to other duties. But it was no accident that he locked the doors from the outside behind him.

Knock Out let out a sigh of relief, muttering to himself in a disquieted manner, "It's bots like him that you need to look out for…"

I opened my optics and slid off the med berth, testing my weight on my slender legs. They held. "With any luck, Soundwave has other duties to attend to… but never mind that, how will we get off this accursed ship without being discovered?"

The red mech turned away and began to sift through a shelf for something, "Maybe a juicy, daring plan with stealth on the side and a dash of luck could do."

I frowned at him, "Is this a cooking show?"

I got the sense that the medic was smirking slightly even though I couldn't see it, "Not that I'm aware of." I huffed wryly, unamused, and went over to have a go the door.

"Open!" I barked. It remained firmly closed.

"Try adding the word 'sesame,'" suggested the medic.

"Again, this isn't a cooking show!" I repeated. Knock Out shrugged in the corner of my vision and I leaned over the door, inspecting it. "It's locked!" I exclaimed in indignation.

"Gee, I wonder how that could have happened." The medic drawled, extracting something from the shelf that he was straining to reach. "Aha!" He exclaimed when he had a hold of it.

"Stop fiddling around with whatever-that-is and get over here and help me!" I snapped.

"See for yourself," came his reply. I spun around, just in time to reflexively catch an object hurtling at my helm. "The ground bridge remote?" I exclaimed in surprise, turning it over in my servos.

"The one and only," he answered, "you still had it on you for Primus knows how long."

"You said I was only out for a short while!" I growled.

He initially looked sheepish, which was very strange to witness but then covered it with false smugness, "We aren't–or at least weren't called Decepticons without reason."

I looked at him, deadly serious. "How. Long?"

He looked away, "Fine. But I wasn't really–"

"Stalling isn't an answer." I hissed.

"Two and a half days."

My legs suddenly felt rubbery. "Two days…" I breathed, trembling slightly.

"And a half."

"My audials are functional!" My voice was shrill.

"Yep, that's your story, and you'll stick to it." He crossed his arms, the smug look back on his faceplates.

Now I was confused. "What? You just said–"

"Decepticons, remember?"

I glowered at him and stalked over. "Stop fragging around! How long was I really out, and what in the Allspark do you mean?! I'm not a mind reader!"

"Clearly," he replied dryly, then added, "a few minutes, tops. But if we're going to strut around and act like true 'Cons again," I huffed at that, "you'll have to pretend to have deluded yourself quite a bit."

"Fun." I replied in an equally dry tone.

He snorted, "Hardly."

Changing the subject, "Have you been able to contact the other Autobots?"

Knock Out shook his helm, "The comm signal's jammed, an extra precaution I'm sure Megatron took.

"I'm not known for my loyalty," I admitted. "At least, Starscream wasn't." The mood in the room darkened considerably.

He steered the conversation away from potential pitfalls, tapping the ground bridge remote against his thigh plating. "I haven't actually been able to use this yet," he confessed, "but it appears to still be operational, even with the dents in the sides."

I winced slightly, the memory resurfacing. But I waved his comment aside, "I know, set coordinates to the flight deck. We need to get away from here as soon as possible."

"You didn't say the magic word."

I snatched it out of his servos, "Tough slag. Shall we?" I opened a portal.

He squared his shoulders, confidence faltering. "We shall."

The pair of us warily walked through the portal, me trailing behind him and I closed the bridge behind our heels. I looked up and everything was black, save for a massive smear of stars across the night sky. I tried to say something to the medic beside me, but my voice didn't seem to work. My processor couldn't, well, process what exactly was happening. I looked down to the remote, making sure I had gotten the right coordinates. Then, seeing the pockmarked surface of the planet's moon beneath us, and the Nemesis gliding slowly by above, I realized why. A space bridge eerily peeked out on the horizon of the moon.

Knock Out beat me to it, opening a comm link between us as his optics widened. "Houston, we have a problem."