Chapter 28

When the first whisperings of malcontent had rumbled through Cybertron, Skyfire had been badgered about taking sides. Both sides thought having the top scientist in their camp would be a boon to their cause, but no one seemed to realize that Skyfire wanted nothing to do with the making of new weapons. After seeing a minor but arguably sapient species annihilated by the weapons he'd helped to create, Skyfire had sworn off the building of arms. He stepped away from his old life and instead dedicated his time to helpful projects, such as cleaner ways to refine energon, building ships with better propulsion systems, or the conservation of the energon they had. When the senators and gang bosses tried to catch his eye on the street, or waylay him in his daily routine, he ignored them. When they turned to attacking him personally and raiding his databanks for new designs, he pulled the plug and went into deep space in hopes of peace and scientific discovery.

During one of his most distant journeys he found himself drawn to the earth. At the time it had been covered in vast swamps and shallow seas teaming with life. Skyfire set up a new life for himself in the wilds of the planet, taking note on the evolution and life cycle of the inhabitants. When the Cybertronian ships crash-landed he found there was little he could do to help them. He searched over the planet, finding the remains of the ships and marking where the bodies he could find fell. The giant ships had caused the ice age the world had entered to deepen, the dust so thick in the air that the sun's warmth was further diminished. Ice and snow made it difficult for Jetfire to travel through his home to find the fallen.

Over time, Skyfire managed to find a single survivor, Starscream. At first he was overjoyed to see his old companion, but Starscream's mind had been damaged for beyond what Skyfire could repair. Eventually Starscream betrayed his friend and engaged in a terrible battle that had left Skyfire off-line for nearly ten thousand years. From then on, he had avoided Starscream, instead he salvaged what parts of his brethren he could find, repairing the few survivors, and eventually finding a kindred spirit in Vsevelov. Together they had made a little community for themselves in the mountains, building tall to accommodate the large mechs.

Tonight the green house was reserved only for those of Skyfire's own kind. While he greatly enjoyed humans, this conversation he had asked that they not partake in. The Cybertronians had grave business to attend to. Neither Hawthorne nor Vsevelov was happy about the arrangement but went along with their friend's request.

Across the long open room, Optimus stared out at the storm. The glass window was a solid piece as long as his leg before it was married to another piece. It was clear without the bullseye indention that marred the glass of most buildings. The entire structure was double paned glass with strong metal beams running between them. Long creches trailed through the room filled with little troughs filled with different plants, some edible and some simply for decoration.

In the reflection, Optimus could see a broad-shouldered mech, his sweeping wings folded tightly on his back, walking towards the center of the room. He had never met Skyfire before, in fact he wasn't sure if anyone outside of Wheeljack had ever met him more than once. Hound seemed to trust him, and that was enough for Optimus. A part of him was relieved that he could now count four more allies instead of any more enemies.

Ironhide and the others had wasted no time in playing catch up with their companions. The Autobots were sprawled out around the enclosure, laughing and joking as if several million years of war and four million years of stasis had not passed since they first took up arms. The two groups were equally surprised and thrilled to find one another after so much time had passed. They were now joined not only by Skyfire but also the broad chested black mech, Trailblazer, a young skittish sharp shooter named Bluestreak, and of course the tracker Hound- his green chassis blended better with the summer folliage than the deep snow that surrounded the mountain top vista.

Skyfire cleared his throat softly. His voice quavered- unused to to speaking to so many at once, "My friends, I know that you came to this world forcefully and lost a great deal of allies getting here. I am... reluctant to be the bearer of such news, but I must confirm that your Sentinel Prime is gone."

There was a collective gasp of disbelief among those assembled. The Autobots who had come to share his home looked at him with varying degrees of anger and shock. Trailblazer looked at him mournfully, "How long have you known? How come you didn't tell us earler?"

A sick feeling of failure spread over Prowl, "Did you... find his body?"

"I believe he died on impact. I'm sorry I hadn't told you, but I wasn't sure when it would be appropriate to do so." Skyfire removed the small box he'd been carrying with him and opened it. Inside, glittering of it's own pure blue light, the Autobot Matrix of Leadership lay cushioned by layers of soft fabric. Suddenly confronted with this relic of their culture, they found themselves without words. It's sharp angular lines and tiny etched glyphs were a reminder of home. It was everything they had once taken for granted only to find themselves stranded on this inhospitable backwards planet.

Bluestreak, the youngest of those assembled, reverently approached the box. He stared deep into the center of the matrix, his expression unreadable. Slowly, the others joined him, all crowding around to witness one of the most important artifacts in their culture- one that few ever saw and even fewer bore. Only one that the matrix chose could possess it, to anyone else it was at best a very pretty paperweight.

Skyfire looked up to see Prowl still standing where he had been, now isolated from the others. He started to speak to him, but the smaller mech ducked out into the winter storm before Skyfire could find his voice.

Ratchet began pushing the others away, "Alright, alright. Back up. We've got more problems right now than just Sentinel Prime. He was a good leader, but he wouldn't want us to stand here gawking when there's Autobots in trouble."

"But who's going to lead us? I mean before we were all just sort of waiting until he came back... but now," Hound's voice trailed off as he shrugged.

"Is that really all that important?" asked Wheeljack.

Ratchet sighed, "It would certainly boost moral I think... and straighten up some confusion."

Trailblazer poked the edge of the matrix, "So... does thing like light up when someone holds it? Or does it give an answer if you shake it?"

Wheeljack scratched his head, "Slag if I know... I wasn't on-line yet when they chose the last Prime."

Ironhide frowned as everyone turned to look at him, "No Ah don't know what they did either! I wasn't thar."

"But you've got to remember at least," Bluestreak did some mental calculations in his head, "the last three primes, right?"

Ironhide whacked him in the back of the helm for his trouble, "It's not like they invited me in tah watch!"

Bluestreak rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "So what do we do, stand around in a circle and spin it? Whoever it lands on is the new leader?"

"Primus, no!" Ratchet rubbed his fingers between his optics, "With our luck it'd land on Wheeljack or something."

"Gah!" Wheeljack flinched, "The last thing I want to do is lead anyone. Blowing things up I know, but being Prime? No thanks."

Ratchet grabbed the matrix out of the box like it was nothing more than another wrench on his table. He shook it at Skyfire, "Nothing." Ratchet went down the line shaking the matrix at each nervous Autobot as if he was a human divining water. He came to the end of the line and found he was a few bots short of a bunch, "Where the slag are Prowl and Optimus?"

Optimus paced outside the building in the night air. He looked down at the end of the green house and could just make out Prowl's shape. The snow crunched under his feet, a hard crust had formed during the storm. It was thick enough that a human wouldn't have buckled it had he stepped on it. "The storm's breaking up."

Prowl spoke to Optimus over his shoulder, "Bluestreak told me about the train. If you hadn't stopped to help those people they might have died. Vsevelov also informs me that if you hadn't gotten Hawthorne in tonight, he'd have almost definitely froze to death. You're the hero of the hour."

Optimus felt the vents on his back itch, "Thank you..."

Prowl shook his head, "It's not a compliment, it's just the truth. I keep trying to do what's logical- but it seems to be backfiring. I had Ratchet check my logic circuits... but he said they were in working order." His door-wings drooped to their lowest point- betraying the feelings that didn't come through in his demeanor. "I thought I knew what I was doing, but I nearly got us all killed."

"I thought I knew what I was doing too-"

"And you were right and I was wrong!" Prowl snapped, then wrestled his temper back under control and let a cycle of breath escape through his teeth. It came out in a thick puff that dissipated gently.

Prowl felt a big hand rest on his shoulder, "My point wasn't to try and make you feel like you didn't know what you were doing."

"Then what was your point?" asked Prowl, now beyond his irritation. All that remained was an empty directionless feeling.

"I... don't know," Optimus blinked, "I didn't know then either, but I felt like it was worth the risk to find out."

Prowl mulled this over, rubbing a sore joint in one knuckle as he thought. "Everything used to be so clear. Sentinel would give an order and I'd follow it. I'd relay it to anyone under my command. I almost always agreed with his decisions, but sometimes... there'd be times when he followed his instinct instead and I wouldn't understand." His expression clouded up, "Sentinel would have had us save those people. I ignored them. I would have abandoned them. Autobots protect life, they don't ignore it. I'm starting to question who I am... Am I without mercy? Am I like the Decepticons? Ignoring the helpless to further my own means?"

"If you were were without mercy you wouldn't feel bad about leaving those people. We've lost what it means to be an Autobot. Is it to preserve life, like it began? Or is it to hunt Decepticons?" asked Optimus.

"I never thought of it like that." The two stared at the white hills now bathed in bright moonlight. "I don't think I want to be leader. I think... I have more learning to do. What exactly I need to learn, I'm not sure. But... I need to stop learning logic and start upgrading my... ability to "jive with others" as Jazz puts it," He chewed his lower lip and dropped his gaze, worry crept into his voice, "Otherwise I'm afraid I'll end up like Shockwave or Soundwave, never feeling anything."

"If you were a Decepticon... you'd have shot me for dumping you in that snow bank," Optimus pointed out.

"There was a tree under there. I could have hit it," Prowl smirked, "I deserved what I received. I yield to you."

Optimus shook his head, "I never asked for this. I'm not the one you want in charge."

"It doesn't matter what you want, that's the first thing you've got to learn," said a voice from behind.

Ironhide, Wheeljack and Ratchet stood by the door, arms folded. Wheeljack held the matrix up gingerly. "Look, we need to shake this thing at you."

Prowl stared at him, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Ignore him," Ratchet waved Wheeljack off and grabbed the relic, pointing it first at Prowl. Receiving nothing from Prowl, he pointed it to Optimus. Face fixed in consternation, he snapped it back and forth a few times. Finally, Ratchet shoved the matrix at Optimus, who tried to fend it off. "Take it! It's faint, but it clearly wants you and no one else."

Sighing, Optimus stared at the object for a long moment. Somewhere he felt that there should be more pomp and circumstance to an event like this no matter who it involved. At the same time, sometimes the most humble of events heralded new beginnings to come. With resolution, he took the matrix in his hands. There was a brief but very pure light deep in the crystal but it was gone before any of them were sure it had happened at all. Optimus opened his chest cavity and placed the relic inside quickly before any snow blew in. Abruptly his spark filled with warmth and comfort, like an old friend's reassuring presence. Then the feeling faded and he felt no different than before.

A new burden of purpose weighed down on him slightly, Optimus Prime stood, snow swirling around his shoulders, moonlight outlining his shape brightly against the night sky. "What's next? We still don't know where the Decepticons are..."

Ironhide snorted, "We do now, ah just got a message from Blaster."

00000

Deep underground there was no day or night. The long lights on the ceiling, normally illuminating the lab as bright as day, were low. Partial power was being restored to the Nemesis as it was harnessed. All the drones they had built or repaired since Sam had arrived all bore Decepticon markings. There didn't seem to be any Autobot parts; Sam wasn't sure if that was a relief or a worry.

Nichols was kneeling over the latest drone, a big green and purple mech. It's chest plate was open and the man was fiddling around with a strange looking tool. It looked a little like the cattle prod, but with a forked end. The chest was not connected to any arms or legs or head. After some experimenting Nichols had found that a drone would work with a bashed in head, but was unpredictable in that state. This next step he was about to take worked best before the head or limbs were attached. It was what made the process possible.

Sam stood behind the scientist, staring at a pulsating light deep in the chest of the Decepticon. It was weak, barely visible even in the semi-darkness. The forked tool was brought to encase the scrap of light, which seemed to panic and vibrate back and forth. It was like the light knew what was going to happen and wanted to escape. Nichols flicked a switch on his instrument and the tongs lit up bright white for just a moment before going dim once more. The soft light was gone.

"What did you just do?" asked Sam.

Nichols raised his eyebrows, standing up straight, "Oh, just removing their power source. Without it the drones are easily controlled."

Sam shook his head, "That's horrible. That's like taking away their self, their soul."

"Don't be so sentimental, they're machines. It's just a command module. By removing it and placing it in the holding tank we're able to control them as drones," Nichols wiped a spot of oil off his sleeve.

"That orb? That's what that thing is!" Sam shivered, "No wonder it seems angry."

"Really Sam, it's not sentient, it's just energy. They're going to use them to power their vessel," he clapped Sam on the shoulder heartily, "Don't look so green! They won't feel anything. They'll be fine!"

Nichols went back to work, starting to attach an arm to the now spark-less chassis. Sam stared at the device, trying to wrap his head around all that had just happened. He grabbed the biggest wrench he could reach and made his move.

The sudden movement of his companion took Nichols by surprised for only a moment. He dodged faster than the younger man anticipated, crashing out of his chair and onto the floor. Kicking the chair out of his path, Sam made another grab for Nichols, running after him as the other tried to escape. Sam swung wildly, clipping the edge of Nichol's hand and sending the device clattering to the floor. As Nichols shook his hand and yowled in pain, Sam threw himself towards the discarded device. Just as Sam curled his hand around it, he felt a sharp pain in his head and his vision filled with stars. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"Sorry boy, but better men than you have failed in getting the drop on me," Nichols shook his head, staring at his assistant. "Such a pity."