"I refuse."
Five Council members stared back at Optimus Prime as if he'd just spoken Binary instead of Standard. He stared back at them, jaw set beneath his mask, almost daring them to press him further. These mechs had pushed him to the edge of his patience countless times over the cycles, and today they had finally pushed him against a line he refused to cross.
Xaaron, predictably, spoke first. "You cannot refuse to testify against Megatron, Optimus. Even the Prime is not above being subpoenaed as a witness."
"Perhaps not," Prime replied, "but I still refuse."
"Are ya nuts, Prime?" Kup demanded. "You of all mechs know better than anyone what that mech did to Cybertron! Do you WANT him to get away with everything he's done?"
"It's not like we have a shortage of evidence against him," Dai Atlas pointed out. "At this point, the trial's just a formality. We all know he's guilty, we just need to see justice done."
"Prime still needs to testify!" Star Saber insisted. "Do you know how it will look to all of Cybertron if Optimus Prime, their own hero who defeated Megatron in the first place, refuses to offer testimony at his war trial?!"
Prime scowled, his optics narrowing at Star Saber. That was grossly overstating his role in ending the war, in his opinion. How quickly Cybertron forgot that, if it hadn't been for the Spiralis Disaster and its ensuing fallout, the war might still be raging to this day. Capturing Megatron had been more of a symbolic act to declare the war over than anything else, and for them to hail him as some kind of hero for dragging back a wounded, exhausted mech and his sparkling felt laughable.
"I know what this is about," Ultra Magnus noted, his frown heavy with disappointment rather than anger. "This is about Caliber, isn't it? You refuse to testify because you don't want Caliber to see you condemn his father."
Prime felt his optics narrow even further. Ultra Magnus' words stung… because they were true. He couldn't testify, not without alienating the young mech he'd come to regard as his own son. Caliber wouldn't hate him for it - there didn't seem to be a hateful strut in his chassis - but he would be devastated enough with whatever sentence the Council decided to hand down. He had no desire to add to it by forcing him to watch as his adoptive father took part in his sire's punishment.
"It is about Caliber," Prime admitted, though he didn't allow regret to color his voice. "And it's in your best interest as well as mine and Caliber's to exclude me from the trial. Do you really want a mech with such a conflict of interest on the witness stand?"
Kup blasted out a sigh. "This is exactly why you should've let US handle the kid when you first found him! Now you're too compromised to help us bring Megatron to justice!"
Prime's optics flashed with anger. "The lot of you wanted Caliber dead, imprisoned, or CPU-washed into a docile puppet," he snarled. "I chose the more merciful path. And if taking that path means that I must bow out while you decide Megatron's fate, then so be it. The Council is perfectly able to decide his punishment without my help."
"It isn't about ability, Optimus," Xaaron replied. "It's about making a public statement. It's about showing the Autobots, the neutrals, and anyone else who suffered due to Megatron's actions that justice is finally being served. And as Prime, you have a responsibility to the Autobots, and to Cybertron. How do you think the Autobots will feel when they see you prioritizing the son of the very criminal who caused them so much pain and suffering over the justice they deserve?"
Fury blazed in Prime's chest, his spark and the Matrix glowing white-hot at the golden mech's words. "This isn't about the Autobots - it's about ALL Cybertronians. Autobots, Decepticons, and those who have never worn a crest or choose not to wear one anymore… my responsibility is to ALL of them, not just the Autobots. And yes, Megatron has done terrible things, and deserves some form of punishment. But I refuse to harm Caliber, or prolong the suffering of Cybertron, by helping you make a public spectacle of it."
"We're trying to heal Cybertron!" Star Saber insisted.
"How is constantly reminding Cybertron of the past helping it heal?" Prime retorted. "From all I've seen, Cybertron has been desperately trying to heal from the war and its effects, to rebuild our homeworld and establish a functioning society again. But certain mechs, including this very Council, keep tearing those old wounds open again and again. And that's something I refuse to do. Punish Megatron if you must… but I refuse to help you make a circus of it, one that will only inflame old hatreds and old pains."
Star Saber opened his mouth to deliver an angry retort… but Ultra Magnus spoke up first.
"If the Prime doesn't wish to testify, then we won't force him to."
"But-" began Star Saber.
"Forcing him to testify will do more damage than allowing him to distance himself from the trial," Ultra Magnus replied calmly. "As the Prime has stated, this isn't about evidence, but about making a statement to Cybertron that the war is decisively over. Prime's involvement in that is not necessary, even if we feel it would make for a stronger statement."
Prime felt the fire in his chest ease slightly at Ultra Magnus' words. From his tone Prime sensed his old friend clearly disapproved of him wanting to avoid getting involved in the trial, but he seemed determined to support him in his choice. He had feared that Magnus' appointment to the Council had destroyed their friendship… but it seemed that Magnus still felt some loyalty towards him, and Prime wasn't about to forget that.
"I… I agree with Ultra Magnus," Dai Atlas added, voice thick with relief that someone else had spoken up first. "We shouldn't force the Prime to testify. Especially since he's so closely involved in raising Caliber."
"I don't care who he's raising!" Star Saber barked. "Just because he took in Megatron's spawn doesn't mean he's exempt from his duty to the Autobots!"
Prime clenched his fists as the Council members erupted into bickering, raising their voices as if hoping to win the argument by volume alone. He was usually a patient mechanism, but somehow meetings with the Council always brought out his urge to knock some helms together. At least this time a few of them were on his side.
"ENOUGH," Xaaron rumbled, his deep voice cutting through the natter. "That is enough. We will solve this in a civilized matter, not like sparklings."
Sparklings are more civilized than this, Prime thought wryly, but said nothing.
"If Optimus Prime chooses not to get involved in Megatron's trial, then so be it," Xaaron went on. "We will proceed without him. Prime will face no punishment from us for his failure to testify… but let him face his own consequences for failing to support the Council in this endeavor. Cybertron will see for itself who truly wishes to see justice served."
Prime knew this was meant to bait him into changing his mind - and perhaps some Primes would balk at the idea of the Council taking credit for something this monumental. But if Xaaron and his cronies were so grasping for attention that they would make a public spectacle of a mech already broken and humiliated by his fall, then they could have the "glory" for all he cared. He would stay out of it as much as he could.
"If there's nothing else, then I'll take my leave," he told them.
"There is one more matter," Xaaron replied. "Regarding your ward."
Of course it would be regarding Caliber - the Council never inquired about his sparked son. "Caliber has recovered from the injuries he suffered after his abduction. He's in good health and recovering well emotionally. Though I have a feeling that's not what you wanted to ask."
"Cheeky," muttered Kup.
"No, but we thank you for the update anyhow." Xaaron leaned back, folding his hands over his abdominal plate. "In all the fuss surrounding the Decepticon uprising and its abduction of Caliber and Orion, we never had the opportunity to ask him about his decision to wear the Autobot sigil."
It took every iota of strength Prime had to not snarl his reply. "After so much talk of gaining justice for the Autobots by putting his father through a sham of a trial, you still think Caliber will want to take on the Autobot crest?"
Xaaron hitched one shoulder in a shrug. "Caliber has to learn sometime that his father is a criminal. And it's time he distanced himself from Megatron anyhow. He should wear the sigil, and prove to Cybertron once and for all that he has no intention of following in his father's footsteps."
"I can assure you now that he has no desire to continue his father's legacy," Prime retorted. "As for declaring himself an Autobot… he has no intention of doing so."
Optics flashed in shock, and Ultra Magnus tensed. "Prime… have you explained to him just what becoming a Decepticon entails? How much that will affect his life?"
Despite his anger, Prime managed a chuckle at that. "Just because he doesn't wish to declare himself an Autobot means he's automatically a Decepticon, does it? No… he wishes to wear neither sigil. He wants to be Cybertronian only, not a member of either faction. And I support him in that decision."
Xaaron's optics narrowed. "Even if that decision makes his life much more difficult in the future?"
"No matter how difficult it makes his life," Prime replied. "Though be warned, Xaaron, that if I find any mech has deliberately set out to sabotage him because of his decision, I WILL find out. And I will make them pay for it."
Xaaron's optics were reduced to mere slits now. "Is that a threat, Optimus Prime?"
"Not a threat… a promise." And with a sharp nod, Prime turned and strode out of the Council chamber. He was done with these mechs for the immediate future… for now, someone else needed him more. Word of Megatron's trial would have reached the media by now, and he wanted to be home to offer whatever comfort Caliber needed.
"All right, that's enough."
Caliber started as the viewscreen flickered, distorting the image of the Autobot tribunal, then went dark. He turned to face Elita, torn between shock and annoyance. "I was watching that, Mom."
"I know… but you need to stop. You've watched nothing but the news footage of your father's war trial for the past decacycle. And even though you keep denying it, I know it's hiking your stress levels through the roof. It's time you took a break from it."
He couldn't argue with her about his stress levels. Ever since Prime had told him that the Council had finally begun the war trial against his father, it felt as if his spark were being clenched by an invisible hand. And yet he couldn't stop watching the footage, or scrolling through the news feeds for scraps of information on the trial. It was his father being judged, his father's fate being decided, and though hearing so much about the atrocities he'd committed and ordered made his tanks churn sickeningly, he felt it was his duty to stay informed as much as possible.
"I know you want to know what's going on," Elita told him. "But there's a difference between staying informed and drowning yourself in information. Go see your friends, or read, or play a video game."
Despite the emotions seething in his spark, Caliber couldn't help a slight smile. "You're the only parent I know who encourages their kids to play more video games."
Elita smirked. "You know what I mean. Go distract yourself a little. Taking a short break from the news isn't going to keep you uninformed or make you disloyal to your father. It's to protect your own mental health."
Caliber sighed, privately thinking that Elita sounded an awful lot like Rung at the moment. But he didn't say that out loud. "I'll try… it's hard to think about anything else right now, though."
"I know." She squeezed his arm lightly. "If you need to talk, we're here for you, okay?"
"Okay." He looked at the blank viewscreen, as if hoping it would provide an answer to the questions gnawing at his spark. "Mom… what do you think is going to happen to my father? There's no way he won't be found guilty, but… what kind of sentence will they hand down?"
"I don't know," she replied. "With any luck, not much will change - he might be moved to a different prison facility, perhaps, but Optimus will ensure that visits still continue somehow."
"Are you sure?"
She sighed. "I won't lie, Caliber - I'm not sure of anything at the moment. Especially since Optimus has chosen to step back from the trial and not interfere. It was the only way he could ensure that he wouldn't be made to testify against your father."
The fist around his spark clenched all the tighter, but he forced himself to smile. "Thanks for being honest, at least."
She smiled sadly. "You're too young to have such a heavy load on your shoulders, Caliber. But know you have mechs here willing to help you carry it." She patted his arm one last time, then headed for her study.
Caliber retreated to his own room and scanned the bookshelves, hoping for a title to catch his optic and distract him from the real world for awhile. Unfortunately, the only title that drew his attention was Towards Peace, his father's book… and somehow he didn't think re-reading the manifesto that had started Megatron down the path that had ended in prison would help take his CPU off his problems.
His gaze finally rested on the plush griffon tucked away on the bookshelf, a memento of his past and his family. Purple no longer quite fit its namesake - time and wear had faded it to a weird shade of bluish-gray, as well as thinned its artificial fur until the weave of the fabric showed through. Its plastic optics gazed back at Caliber with a dull but friendly expression, as if the stuffed toy had no clue what was going on but wanted to comfort him however it could anyhow.
Caliber couldn't resist reaching out to give the toy a light squeeze. He'd long outgrown the need to drag the plushie everywhere he went as a security blanket, but he hadn't the spark to get rid of it or pack it up in storage. And his family saw no harm in him keeping it around - even Orion didn't tease him about keeping a stuffed animal in his room. Much, anyhow.
A light rapping on his door cut into his reverie. "Hello?"
"You have a visitor, Caliber," Elita told him.
"Who is it?"
"Soar. Paddles is here too, but she's off talking to Orion. Are you okay with Soar coming inside?"
"Sure." He found he didn't really want to be alone at the moment, but neither did he feel up to a great deal of conversation. And while Soar wasn't necessarily uncommunicative just because he was nonverbal, neither would he demand a lot of unnecessary chatter from Caliber if he didn't want it.
He opened the door to admit the young Dinobot… and a round of raucous laughter from Orion's room as Soar slipped inside. Soar's metallic feathers were ruffled out like the fur of a startled cat, and his faceplates were contorted in a grimace… but his feathers smoothed out and his expression relaxed as Caliber shut the door, cutting off their siblings' noise.
"Hi Soar," he greeted. "Thanks for coming by."
Soar nodded and held up the flat box he carried - a board game. Caliber nodded, and he cleared off his bedside table and pulled it into the middle of the room to give them a space to play it. This was just what he needed - a low-key distraction, something to take his CPU off his father's trial and help him relax a little.
For a time neither mech spoke as they set up the board and played, letting the intricacies of the game occupy their processors. Idly Caliber noted the colored plastic pieces, and remembered how he and Soar had once bonded over pieces similar to this. Soar had come a long way from being a lonely, mute sparkling obsessed with his own private games - like Caliber, he had grown and found his own place, helped along by an unlikely but loving adoptive family and a supportive sibling.
Perhaps that, more than anything, was why he got along well with the blue-and-yellow flier. Not simply because he was a quiet, calm presence, but because they had more in common than one might expect from the sons of Megatron and Grimlock.
He was pondering a tricky move when Soar's frequency pinged on his comm unit. Are you okay?
"Not really," he admitted. "But I'm hanging in there."
Soar nodded slowly. Do you want to talk about it at all? Or is it one of those things where talking about it makes it worse?
"I… don't know," he confessed. "I'm not sure how I feel at the moment. And I'm not sure it's something anyone can help with. I mean… it's not like every mech has a parent in prison for crimes against Cybertron."
Soar picked up a green chip and rolled it around his fingers. You know, if the Annihilator hadn't exploded, the war might have gone very differently. And it might be Orion's father in prison, or Zinc's, or Alpine's, instead of yours.
Caliber frowned. He'd never really thought about that before. And while the thought of an alternate timeline where his father walked free and they had never been separated appealed to him, knowing that such a timeline would come at the cost of his brother and his adoptive parents made him recoil from it. No… what had happened had happened. There was no use wishing it had gone differently.
Just a thought. Soar set the chip down. If you ever want to talk, I'm here. I may not have advice to give, but I'll listen.
"Thanks," Caliber replied with a slight smile. "That… that means a lot."
Soar smiled in return, then returned his attention to the game. Caliber pushed a piece forward, perfectly happy to lose himself in the game for now.
Optimus.
Prime had gone out onto the balcony of the apartment for some fresh air and a moment of contemplation, but that familiar voice made him turn. "Ravage."
The cassette-panther dropped down from the upper floor, landing lightly near Prime's feet. Without a word he padded closer to the Autobot commander and lay down at his feet, looking out over the Iacon cityscape. The movement was so catlike, as if Ravage were a domestic pet rather than a Decepticon fugitive, that Prime nearly chuckled aloud.
"You know," Prime murmured, leaning back in the balcony chair, "if someone had told me vorns ago that one of the most feared Decepticon spies would become a family friend, I would have suggested they'd slipped a cog."
Ravage snorted. Hello to you too. I wish I could say this was merely a social visit.
"Your visits are never just social." Prime traced a fingertip over the rim of the glass of low-grade he'd brought out with him. "Did you want an update on Caliber?"
That wasn't the primary purpose of this visit, but I'll take an update on both young mechs.
Prime raised an optic ridge at that. Perhaps he should be suspicious that Ravage wanted to keep informed regarding Orion as well as Caliber. But then, Orion and Caliber were so close that one's condition almost always affected the other. And Orion and Ravage had worked together in an attempt to rescue Caliber, so perhaps some bond of friendship had been forged between the two.
"Orion's doing well," he replied. "A little more secretive than usual, though. We've always tried to respect his privacy, but we can't help but wonder." He lowered his mask briefly to sip at his drink. "Caliber is… coping. This whole ordeal with Megatron's trial is wearing on him. He tries to put on a brave front for us, but I know it's hard on him."
Ravage flicked an audial receptor. You're the Prime. Isn't it within your power to call a halt to the trial?
"The Prime is not all-powerful," Prime replied softly. "Primes in the past have been granted absolute authority, and it has always turned out to be disastrous. The Council was instated to govern Cybertron, with the authority of the Prime serving as a check and balance. I can influence the trial if I so choose, or refrain from getting involved… but I can't stop it entirely. Not without undermining the Council and undoing the peace we've striven so hard to achieve."
Perhaps the Council needs a little undermining? You've never had much kind to say about them. Why not disband them and start fresh?
"There are good mechs on the Council," Prime countered. "And while I may not agree with all their views, especially regarding Caliber, they are good leaders who want what's best for Cybertron. I will guide their course as best I can, but I won't get rid of them just because we don't see optic-to-optic."
Ravage gusted out a deep sigh. I hope you know what you're doing, Optimus. He rested his head on his forepaws. I didn't come here to talk politics with you, though.
"What's going on?" Prime wasn't sure he liked the tone of Ravage's voice.
It's Soundwave. He's accepted a plea deal.
Prime jerked in surprise, fuel spilling out of his cup at the movement. "Soundwave?" Of all the Decepticon officers still in prison, the cassette-carrier had been the last mech he'd expected to accept an early release in exchange for turning against his commander.
That's what I said, Ravage replied. He was released this afternoon. He's staying at a hostel in Polyhex for the moment, and once all us cassettes return to him we'll plan our next move. Most likely we'll remain in one of the Decepticon cities and look for some sort of employment, if only to remain where we can keep an optic on Caliber.
Prime set his cup down, shaking droplets of low-grade off his fingers. "Soundwave tore out his own vocalizer to avoid betraying Megatron's location. Why would he now betray him by testifying against him at his trial? Has prison changed his loyalties?"
You underestimate the strength of his devotion to Megatron, Ravage retorted. It wasn't his choice… but Megatron commanded it.
"Megatron… commanded Soundwave… to testify against him." Somehow that thought baffled Prime just as much as the thought of Soundwave turning against his commander. "How did he even get in touch with him? They're not even being held in adjacent cells."
You act as if you think it's impossible for us cassettes to maneuver about unnoticed in a prison, Ravage noted sardonically. We pass the occasional message between them.
"Why, though? Why would Megatron order his most loyal officer to turn against him like that? Especially as Soundwave has already gone to great lengths to protect him?"
Ravage arched his neck back to gaze up at Prime. Megatron no longer wishes anyone to go to such extreme lengths, it would seem. He told Soundwave that his loyalty was admirable… but he no longer required it. He wishes Soundwave to go on with his life, to not suffer simply because he doesn't want to betray his commander.
Prime stared down into the dregs of his cup. Megatron had to know that the trial wouldn't end well for him… but he hadn't expected him to actually encourage his troops to testify against him, to do all in their power to avoid going down with their commander. He knew Megatron wasn't nearly the monster many claimed him to be, but this gesture was surprising even to him.
"I'm sure that was a difficult order for Soundwave to follow," Prime murmured.
You have no idea, Ravage replied. He… he would like to visit Caliber sometime, if you'll permit it. He was fond of him as a sparkling, and helped raise him when Shockwave's attempts at parenting him fell short.
"I'm certain that can be arranged shortly. Thank you, Ravage."
You're welcome. He stood and stretched, then padded towards the edge of the balcony. And one more thing - you may want to check on Orion shortly, before his Dinobot friend goes home. You worried that he was growing secretive… perhaps this will clear a few things up.
Prime watched the panther leap off the edge of the balcony. Then he turned and headed inside. That warning was more than a little ominous… and he could only wonder just what his son and Paddles were up to.