Chapter 115: Message in a Bottle

While Cliffjumper was moving forward in his plan to contact Galvatron, Axletron was under the careful care of Ultra Magnus and Jazz as the toured the various districts and markets of Vehicon. The sparkling especially enjoyed the art district, there bots of all sizes painted, sculpted and drew in the open air for everyone to watch. No one spared him a second glance with his hologram on, though he had bumped into more than one bot who misjudged his size by accident. Near sunset, Ultra Magnus brought Axletron to a wide open field on the outskirts of the base. 13 enormous black marble pillars rose around them in a large circle.

"What is this place?" Axletron asked softly as he approached a pillar, noticing small lines etched into the stone.

With a soft sigh, Ultra Magnus responded, "It is the called the Well of the Fallen Sparks. A war memorial erected after the end of the First war. It has the names of every Cybertronian spark lost in the battle, no matter what side they were on. More were added after the Second War."

"Even the Decepticons?" Placing a servo on the stone, Axletron now saw that the thin lines were actually names, etched deeply into the marble so as to never fade…but the text was so small and each pillar was covered in lines like this. "There must be millions of names."

"Billions."Ultra Magnus responded. "Whole generations and families lost. And yes, Decepticons are included as well. When fighting a war, it is easy to paint your enemy as spark-less, separate and different, but they were Cybertronians just like us, fighting for what they felt was right. They were missed by someone and deserved to be remembered for returning to the Well before they could see and experience peace."

"My greatest fear for you Axletron" Ultra Magnus continued, "Is that you will have to experience a war like myself, or you mother, or any of your teachers did; to have your peace disturbed and broken. It is difficult to balance my want for you to enjoy your youth and my want to have you prepared to fight if you need to."

"I'm not afraid to fight Ultra Magnus," Axletron asserted, looking to his honorary grandfather. "If there is one thing I know is that you have to be willing to fight for what you care about. Family, friends, freedom, they don't come without a fight."

"You are correct. But I hope that if you do have to fight for them someday, you will remember this monument, and these names, and try not to add to the list your name or anyone else's. I wonder how many more sparks could still function, if I had made a different call, tried to speak before fighting. A spark is precious Axletron; it is a shame that, as a species, we have lost so many to war." Ultra Magnus said softly. The silence stretched between them for several moments as the sky grew darker.

Pulling himself out his reverie, Ultra Magnus began moving back to the main city, "Let us return to the ship, your mother must be getting worried by now."

With a simple nod, Axletron followed, Ultra Magnus' words filling his processor. Even the leader of the Autobots had doubts and regrets. With a final glance at the monument, he frowned deeply.

On the final day of their stay on Vehicon, the city had planned a farewell festival for Ultra Magnus. It was going to be a major celebration, with food, dancing and a fireworks display. For Cliffjumper, it was the perfect opportunity to launch his transmitter, when the fireworks would interfere with the projectile sensors and hide the transmitter's launch into orbit. He'd managed to link it to his home terminal remotely, and carefully calculated the coordinates to Karn, triple checking his results. He'd only get one shot at this.

That night, just as the fireworks were set off and coloring the crowds in bright sparks, Cliffjumper launched his transmitter from a distance, and felt a bit of pride at the fact that he couldn't tell it apart from any other projectile in the sky that night. After all, if he didn't spot it, and he was specifically looking for it, it was unlikely anyone else would either. Next to him, Axletron was watching the show with an enormous grin and the mini knew his sparkling would be talking about the show for mega-cycles to come.

They left the planet tired and happy, sorry to go but glad they came. Axletron returned to his un-disguised self, the hologram projector becoming a special issue item for Intel. As expected, he talked Echo's audios off about the trip and brought peace of processor to his teachers and family to see him in such high spirits again.

Cliffjumper waited 3 cycles before an alert told him the transmitter had touched ground. It was the moment of truth now. That night, long after Axle had gone to bed, he logged on to his home terminal and prepared to link up.

Sending Primus a silent prayer, he activated the transmitter, watching the small circle of dots spin as it tried to uplink to the inputted terminal number. Dread and hope competed for dominance in his spark. After a nerve-racking nano-cycle of spinning dots, Cliffjumper was about to give up when the screen turned green, white text filling it: "Terminal Link Successful"

…Holy Primus, it worked! It actually worked!

His first reaction was to immediately link up for video, but he managed to stop himself just in time. He may have been able to link to a terminal, presumably Galvatron's, but their communication was by no means secure. The transmitter wasn't Intel grade after all. He had to be careful. A video or audio file could be linked to him in a sparkbeat. He had to protect Axletron, and he couldn't very well do that from a prison cell now could he?

The most he could do was send text. Small data bursts, and he'd have to erase them immediately after. Burn the bridge as he built it. No saving anything for this. He could keep a pad safe, install purging software and protective coding, but in the openness of space, less was more.

His servos seemed to shake over his keyboard as his spark felt heavy with anxiety. What could he write? What was safe to say and throw out there into space? Galvatron and him hadn't really had a code or anything like that, why would they? Scrap, he wasn't even willing to risk saying Galvatron's name. Should he call him Axle? How about Neutral? Galvatron had called him Cutie, but Cliffjumper had never really given him a nickname in return, aside from calling him a pervert or letch from time to time. He wasn't even sure if Galvatron was the only one with access to his terminal. The last thing Cliffjumper needed was some Decepticon lackey blackmailing him for sending love letters to the former leader of the Decepticons.

He had to keep it simple, vague, but still with enough detail to prove it was him. Thinking of Galvatron, how close he was, he began to type.

Neutral,

It's me. Your cutie. I'm not sure if this will even reach you, but if it does, I need to tell you something important. You didn't kill me. You didn't kill us. We're still alive and I still love you. I know you may not feel the same anymore. It's been millennia for you, and I know it hasn't been easy. I wish I could talk to you again in person, but I have a duty on Cybertron. I can't leave yet. I haven't forgotten who you really are, you're not what you said you were, but I can't say your name either, not like this, I need to keep us all safe.

Just know that I haven't given up on you. I will see you again, as soon as I can. I think I know where you are.

I'll write again.

Love,

Cutie

Lightyears away, on Karn, a small light on a communications terminal began to blink.

End Chapter 115