Chapter Forty Three
"It makes for grim reading, lad".
Kup handed Ultra Magnus the battered, slightly torn piece of "paper", a thinly pressed form of metal unknown to humans that was used in place of digipads.
"It must be, if Perceptor can only muster a few sentences as a report".
Kup nodded solemnly.
Magnus' optics scanned the words and his shoulders slumped somewhat. He read it suddenly outloud, though had the feeling that Kup had already glanced over it.
"We must start repair of the shuttle, Journeymech, within thirty hours of dawn this day. The estimated time of repair is six planetary rotations. Once in transit we will only have energon reserves for five mechs, the rest will have to go into stasis lock transit".
"Certainly not something to booster morale".
The older mech stated.
"We'd need a skeleton crew of at least twelve to safety pilot the Journeymech".
"I know lad, I pointed that out to Perceptor, and all he could say in return was either we have five mechs operating the shuttle or we have twelve and not enough fuel to make it out of the system".
Magnus stood up from his makeshift desk and walked briskly to the edge of the once beautiful Praxus Memorial Garden Square.
"Perceptor did point out that the numbers could change if we had other sources of fuel, from outside our stock piles, but he said he doesn't have the time required to make those calculations".
"So the scientist is suggesting we salvage materials and fuels from the humans' ruins?"
"Ai".
The commander gave a small sigh, lowering his head.
"Send out four of the minibots; in pairs. One pair off towards Central, the other towards Portland. They're to stay on the main roads, they're bound to come across one of the humans' fuel depots eventually, and there should be fuel still under the surface. They're to load up as much as possible and return back".
"With all due respect, Ultra Magnus, to you and this situation, its not quite justified to take fuel from the humans".
"I'm aware of that Kup. But we didn't get enough fuel from the abandoned cars, such as they were, in the parking lots. Hard choices have to be made. Our usual course of morality has to be sidetracked. And besides, as harsh as it is, there's not all that much the humans can do with the fuel – their vehicles and any of their devices that could have run off their petrol would have been long since deadened by the EMPs".
Kup nodded sadly.
"And begin the repair on the Journeymech… and speaking of hard choices: have you and Perceptor come up with a list of the required mechs needed for the flight crew, those who are needed for the repair and associated specialists. Reduce their rations to 60%; all non-essential staff are to be down to 20%. If we have to use a stasis lock transit, we may as well start rounding down the numbers now".
"Right you are lad".
"And as soon as you have any kind of radio contact with any of our external teams, whether they be involved in rescue or just returning, have them back here immediately. We don't have the luxury of expending energon on tasks that won't gain us anything".
Without any further words between them, Kup left to carry out the orders, he agreed with them, even if he didn't like the fact that he did.
Magnus stood silently amongst the slightly cleaner square. Several large blocks of masonry had been used to prop up scorched sheet metal to resemble a sort of shack. Inside this little shack was his "office" so to speak. A few stacked beams of metal formed a desk, there was no chair; there was no need as the beams were low enough to the ground that Magnus could sit. The rocks holding up the walls was where he laid the few pieces of bureaucracy that remained, the scraps of their form of paper, held in place by a small rock, a couple of seriously damaged digipads, the lighting circuits in them damaged so they flickered out of any sort of pattern making it rather uncomfortable on the optics to read, a pen, and a mug for his energon ration, the handle broken off. Behind the desk was another few chunks of metal sheeting laid to resemble a re-charge berth.
Before they had cracked down on "no go" zones regarding the still standing, but damaged buildings, mechs and femmes alike had ventured into the habitation wings to salvage any sort of comforts, berths mostly. But Magnus, ever the solider, had thumbed his nose at such desires and priorities. He lay down on his "berth" and offlined his optics for a moment. It was seldom that he got any moments of peace, with what sat outside his office, with the state of this planet, and the state of the Autobots, he couldn't quite justify it to himself. Of course, there were moments where he did have to get at least a few moments of recharge, no matter how inefficient.
He was drifting just above that stage in recharge where the world around him would float away and merge with the sub-conscious and allow him dreams; hopefully of more pleasant times, he'd remain there of course, as he had done every time he'd attempted recharge since the bombs.
ooOOOOooo
"Sir, sorry to bother you sir".
A voice, a rather screechy one, interrupted his memory recall of a time he and Elita's sister were alone on the front lines outside of Kaon.
"Yes, yes, what is it solider?"
He stood up quickly, his optics online and bright, composing himself as only a true warrior could when discovered in such a state. He hid his slight embarrassment and decided he'd have to talk with Kup about this "interruption".
"I'm sorry to bother you sir".
"You already said that; now what's the problem?"
"Lieutenants Jazz and Prowl are back, sir, with some other Autobots; injured. And a few humans".
The new comer paused for a moment.
"They're out by the parking lot we've been using as a meeting place".
"Parking lot Beta-five".
"Ah, yes sir".
"Very well".
Magnus broadly strode past, ignoring and neglecting any further commentary.
ooOOoo
The information Magnus had received wasn't completely on the nose, as the humans said. Jazz and Tracks in their current states had been rushed to the still immobile Perceptor. Tracks of course would have top priority as his injuries seemed more pressing. Raoul had been taken to one of the human medics working within the confines of the city, a man by the name of Lou, the City Commander couldn't recall his familial designation. He wasn't even sure what he did, was he a doctor, a nurse, or just a human who made the mistake of saying he'd taken a "first aid" course? Regardless, somewhere amongst the smouldering ruins of Autobot city were a few humans who had worked on site and were too scared to go into the makeshift refugee camp on the other side of the fence, so to speak. And no one, Autobot or otherwise, was going to force them.
Skids was sitting on the side of a partially turned over van. It had been dented down into a sort of chair for a Transformer of moderate size. Other cars had been given the same treatment. The anthropologist was telling his story, no doubt, to the group gathered around him.
To the side of him, but by a considerable distance socially, was Prowl, he was discussing something with Kup, and in his hand was the small balled blob that was the former General. Skids' story, no matter how interesting and exciting it looked, was of little concern to Magnus, the most pragmatic and realistic telling of events would be found from the cold, calculating and ever so logical Prowl.
"Ultra Magnus, Sir!"
Prowl saluted, a little more formerly then he had intended, but he could see from the quick flash in the superior's optics that he had appreciated it.
"We've had grave concerns about you and your party, solider. I will be glad to see Optimus, we have much to discuss".
"I'm afraid to be the mech to tell you this, sir, but Optimus Prime has offlined".
Kup looked down for a moment, his optics dimming, he'd obviously already heard the news from statistician but to hear it again made it no less pump wrenching.
Magnus was unreadable for a moment. Prime was his friend; they'd known each other from before the war. In some ways, they had become as close as brothers. Even during the thousands of vorns they'd spent apart, they always had a warm and active friendship, and it was such they could pick up where they left off whenever they found themselves in each other's company. Then of course… there was Elita's sister, if it wasn't for Prime, he would never have met her. His memory banks flashed quickly over the life he had led with Prime, with Orion, with the war and finally, resting on the moment now, when he had learnt of his friend's passing. There was a deep sadness that etched itself onto his spark at that instance, an instance that would change him more then he could know, and many would look back on this day and say "that was when he changed".
That was when he became a different Ultra Magnus.
But for the moment, he realised what it meant, what Optimus' death meant to him as a solider, as the [what was left of the] city commander, what it would mean for Hot Rod, if the youngin' showed up. What it meant for all of them…
"Very sad news, Prowl, very sad".
He composed himself, but turned to face the crowd of mechs around Skids, they seemed delighted that he had survived albeit amazed, no one yet had asked about Prime, perhaps the fact he had not returned with the small and injured group told them all they needed to know, and right now they didn't want any further reminder of the mess the humans had caused them… of the heartache.
"We will make an announcement. Kup, spread the word that at 1600hr human time we will gather at the remains of section five's parking lot. Prowl, you come with me, we have much to discuss".
Magnus turned and started walking back towards his "office", his broad stride evident of him "meaning business".
"And have Skids get down from there, I don't want him giving out more information then is needed".
He said turning and pointing at the bot, his voice stern and purposefully expressing how irritated he was at the spectacle.
ooOOoo
Author's NB: I'm one of those people who are in the camp of "Dion became Ultra Magnus".
