Kuat
"Glad that slagfest's over," Ironhide commed to Arcita as the last of the Imperial and Hapan ships vanished in flashes of pseudomotion. The onyx-colored Autobot was covered in scratches, dents, and scorches. Some of his machinery had suffered moderate damage. Thanks to his trithyllium armor, and being able to knock out Barricade and Mixmaster before Blackout had gotten to him, Ironhide was reasonably unharmed.
"Same here," Arcita agreed.
Ironhide glanced at Thunderblast's body. Starscream had been forced to disconnect from her in order to flee to hyperspace. Jetfire must have inflicted severe damage to her before Thunderscream had formed. Starscream may have been an enemy combatant, but that didn't mean Ironhide couldn't feel sorry for the Decepticon. The man had just lost his sparkmate. Ironhide couldn't imagine losing Chromia. And he would have, had Leia and Han not been close by in the Millennium Falcon.
"Hello, friends," said a voice Ironhide had never expected to hear again.
"Jetfire," Ironhide commed back, excitedly. He and Arcita quickly turned toward the source of their brother's transmission. What resembled a miniature TIE Advanced was rocketing toward them.
"Once again you decide to scare us by pretending to die," Arcita lovingly scolded Jetfire.
"That was only one time. And it was past due." Jetfire was now roughly the size of an astromech droid. The domed top of the astromech's head took the place of the TIE's cockpit window. It had always amazed Ironhide how skilled Jetfire was at reformatting.
The right and left fourths of Arcita's head pulled backward, away from the middle half. Arcee's split head came together, as Arcita split apart at the waist. Arcee's spine pulled her head back above her shoulders, while Elita One's arms separated from her legs.
"I ejected my astromech portion just before the rest of my body was destroyed. I then duplicated signs of irreparable damage, and went on a passive sensor mode. We should see what's happening with gestalt of Orion Pax and Ultra Magnus."
Grimlock stood guard over the combined form of Orion Pax and Ultra Magnus. The four made their way over to their comrades. Magnus' Decepticon Hunter and shattergun floated nearby. A silvery object, radiating the Force, was situated over a sizable wound in the gestalt's chest. Ironhide felt a brief tremble within his spark; it was the Matrix of Primus! "That explains how the Fallen could use the Force," Ironhide commed.
Burned and broken bits of material floated out of the wound. Parts were shifting and reshaping, especially on his upper body. the armor on his arms and legs was loosening. "Allspk still in chest," Grimlock commed, in a voice sounding a bit like grating alloy. "Think Allspk and Mat'x heal'ng him. R'make him."
"Whoever he's going to be, it won't be Orion," Arcee commed, with a note of sadness. Ironhide could sense that something had happened between the two. Nor would this new being be Magnus. Kuat had been taken back, but not without great cost.
Ironhide noticed that the four claws of Grimlock's left hand were damaged. The larger Autobot followed his gaze. "Grb Meg'tron. He ent hype'space. Hand hrt. Think he dead. Me shot chest. Think hrt spark."
"Well done," Ironhide congratulated. "I need to see how Chromia's faring. And perhaps create Chromehide."
"I'll go with you," Jetfire said. "I'd love to stay at... our gestalt friend's side, but I must rest." He and Ironhide blasted over to the Ralroost. The latter went into a bit of a crouch as the two Autobots passed through the Bothan Assault-cruiser's magcon field. Sitting on the flight deck, beside the Millennium Falcon, with a cable connected to one of its chest ports was a blue astromech with shiny blue trim. Chromia. The rest of her body must have still been aboard the YT-1300. Leia, Han, and Mara each sat on an equipment crate near Ironhide's sparkmate.
"Jetfire?" Mara asked.
"I live," he confirmed. He pointed his bow toward the ceiling. His wings folded up into an astromech droid's cylindrical body, and the pylons turned into legs, as he landed. Mara ran over to him and hugged him.
"Thanks for saving my girl," Ironhide told the three humans.
"Anytime," Han said. "But Mara did most of the work. She connected that cable to a port in Chromia's head, and the astromech part just came out."
"That's where all the vital stuff is," Ironhide explained. "Thank you, Mara." He gently patted her head with an index finger. He turned toward Chromia. "Time to wake up, baby." He gently picked her up. His head split vertically down the middle, and he placed Chromia inside. His head closed in around her, and their brains joined together. Chromia's spark moved out of her astromech body and into Ironhide's chest, where their two sparks congealed into one. Chromehide was exhausted, because Chromia had nearly died. The being also felt strangely empty, for a brief moment, before Chromia's brain came back online. The gestalt disconnected the power cable from the center of their face. Chromehide was grateful to exist again. "Thank you for saving me," they said, though in only Ironhide's voice.
"You're welcome," Mara said.
"Chromehide?" Han asked, mildly confused.
"Yes. Chromia's vocorder is with the rest of her body," Chromehide explained.
"You... I mean Ironhide said all her vital stuff was in the astro-"
"Ironhide was wrong," Chromehide admitted, cutting Han off.
"Yeah, he was so wrong," Han agreed smartly. "A female's ability to talk is incredibly vital. But why can Jetfire talk?"
"My technology is more advanced," Jetfire said softly. "But I believe I can help Chromia move her vocorder to the astromech."
"I would appreciate that," Chromehide said.
"I must power down, now." With that, his red astromech eye went dark.
Mara looked at Chromehide. "Will Jetfire be stuck... small?"
"For the time being. There are facilities on Cybertron that could construct a new body for him."
"But the Decepticons control that world," Mara recalled.
"For now." Chromehide wished to exist for a while longer, but they needed to power down. Doing this as a gestalt was very risky, as the individual members could, under certain circumstances, become stuck as one. And a gestalt's mind and spark were not meant to exist for prolonged periods. With some reluctance, Chromehide disconnected the two Cybertronians. Ironhide felt a partial loss of personhood as he became less than Chromehide. He took Chromia out of his head, which quickly closed back up, and placed her on the flight deck. She turned her domed head toward him, and gave a thankful beep.
"Hi, Chromia," Han said. "The rest of you's in the Falcon."
The Autobot warbled cheerfully, and headed up the freighter's boarding ramp. Minutes later, Chromia was more or less crawling down the ramp. She stood up, somewhat shakily, and slowly walked over to Ironhide. His spark quivered a bit when her saw her. Much of her armor paneling was scorched and burned through. Some pieces were missing or warped. "You look rough, Chromia."
"I feel rough," Chromia said, leaning against him.
"Yes, you do," Ironhide agreed, with a touch of humor, as he wrapped his arms around her. "Let's find a corner and get some dim-optic."
"I could use some," Chromia said, as Ironhide let go of her. He took her hand, and led her to a relatively empty spot by a wall. Chromia stumbled slightly as they laid down. "As long as Unicron doesn't return from the dead in the next few days, I should be good."
Ironhide chuckled at his sparkmate's comment. "You're adorable." He placed an arm around her, and in short order his optics and brain went dark.
...
The sensation was both painful and strangely soothing as he was simultaneously disassembled and reassembled. Dead parts that could not be salvaged were loosening and starting to break off. The Force was transforming him into someone else. Omega Prime had suffered too much damage to survive. Part of him had to die, so that the rest could live. How much more of him was yet to die, he could not say. Gradually he began to fade away more slowly, until he no longer faded at all.
The former Omega Prime's optics glowed to blue life. Elita One's face was the first thing he saw. Beside her, holding her hand was Arcee. Standing protectively behind the two was Grimlock. There was no danger; it was simply his habit to protect.
Through the Force the former Omega Prime could sense that Arcee was morning, in a way more personal than the others. And then he remembered kissing her. Yet he could not remember the thrill that should have accompanied this. Because the memory belonged to Orion Pax. He felt an oddly distant sadness over the relationship that could have existed. "I'm sorry, Arcee," he commed to her on a private frequency.
"I know," she replied. "It's not your fault."
His optics briefly went offline as his head broke apart. Underneath was another head, similar to Orion's but slightly bigger. Next went part of his chest, as though by a great, invisible chisel. The Matrix pulled away some, to avoid the debris, but remained connected via its many tendrils. Armor and machinery came away from his limbs. His hands and feet fell off, revealing slightly smaller ones. The ax-gun on the left arm detached itself. The right one, however, remained. "Odd," Grimlock grated.
"Where is Magnus' shattergun?" the former Omega asked, not quite sure why it mattered right now.
Elita pointed to his left. He turned around, and saw the weapon floating about. He grabbed it with the Force, and it sailed over to him, the handle landing in his left hand. Both his forearm and the shattergun seemed to break apart in a maelstrom of moving parts. The remaining ax-gun was soon engulfed. Innumerable small pieces of alloy were ejected into space like confetti. The chaos quickly, leaving much of the shattergun intact, with the addition of the ax blade beneath the weapon's muzzle, in place of a left hand. He stared at the ax-shattergun a long moment. It began to break apart, with large sections retracting into his forearm. Smaller sections formed a hand.
The Matrix abruptly detached from his chest. Paneling irised open, revealing the Allspark. Small connectors disengaged themselves from the artifact. The power of the Force left him as the Allspark floated out of his chest.
"Chromia could use your help again," Arcee commed, clearly speaking to the Allspark. She landed in Arcee's hand, and the Autobot blasted off toward the Ralroost.
"Mat'x join D'cept'con Hunt," Grimlock noted.
The Matrix of Primus was reaching its tendrils out to the Decepticon Hunter. The mechanized vines wrapped around the sword's hilt, and connected to part of the blade's trailing edge. The hilt seemed to almost melt, fusing it to the Matrix. Short, thick silvery roots grew from the Matrix, forming a new handle.
"The Star Saber of Primus," the unnamed Autobot said, in wonder. "Minus the second blade," he amended.
"Most of the Star Saber and the Allspark," Elita mused. "They could help us take back Cybertron. We'd be able to defeat the Decepticons."
"My right hand hasn't done very much," the unnamed Autobot mused. He glanced at the Star Saber, and took hold of it. The Force flooded back to him, and his eyes began to glow just a bit brighter. He could sense life presences all around, his fellow Autobots, people in ships and on Kuat. Sadly it was tainted by death; thousands of people had died in this battle. Such was the double-edge sword of the Force's power. One saw beauty and ugliness.
"That your weap'n now," Grimlock said. "You Prime worthy. Have name?"
"When Orion Pax and Ultra Magnus combined, they formed Omega Prime. Part of him has passed on, so I am not him. I am... Optimus Prime."
"I like it," Elita said. Grimlock nodded his agreement.
SITH MEDITATION SPHERE
Athena was tired, nearly to the point of exhaustion; she hadn't completely recovered from her first real battle meditation at the Corellian system when she'd formed this latest one. She sat at the rear of Ship's passenger compartment, slightly slouched against the wall. Despite having the appearance of roughly hewn stone, the red-brown interior of the craft was a tad spongy.
Athena had told the Decimator's crew that the Meditation Sphere was a prototype craft with a super-secure state of the art communication and surveillance system. Some of Ship's external components did somewhat resemble comm. equipment. She'd said this technology allowed her to monitor enemy transmissions, as a cover for what she could sense through the Force.
She was a bit saddened that so many people had died serving her, or rather the woman they'd thought she was. Had they known the truth, they'd surely have wanted her head. She had no interest in leading the Hapes Consortium. She only wanted their resources, to help her fellow Terrans gain a new homeworld...
Athena's staff weapon vibrated softly. She reached her left hand through the false pocket in her trousers and slipped the folded up device from its holster. She focused on the weapon briefly, and wasn't at all surprised by the young face that materialized before her. His hair was a very dark red, and his eyes were a bright lime-green. "Icarus, how are things?"
"Quite good, Grand Admiral," he said, clearly excited about something. "We just found eleven more war cruisers, and one of them is the Cerberus."
"The Cerberus," Athena repeated, sharing the young man's excitement. "You've made my day. Things have not gone well on my end, unfortunately."
"I suppose not," Icarus agreed after Athena had briefed him on the fiasco at Kuat.
"Rus," called a voice.
"Go, do what you must, Icarus."
"Yes, Grand Admiral. Bye." With that, his face vanished.
"I promise to tell our friends about all that," Athena assured Ship.
A wise choice.
The universe snapped back into place as the Sith craft fell back into realspace. Athena stretched out through the Force, and sensed a mass of thousands of human presences. Natasi Daala was among them. Ship and the Eviscerator led Darth Krayt's Dragon Squadron, who'd only lost two members, and several Miy'til Generation-2 fighters toward the Lecersen. The survivors passed through the magcon field to the hangar in the Star Destroyer Mark III's belly.
Athena slipped her staff weapon back into its hidden holster, as the Meditation Sphere came to hover above the flight deck. She stood up and, with a reluctant sigh, pulled her tail into her trousers. Concealing her fatigue the Hapan Queen Mother walked down Ship's boarding ramp.
Darth Krayt met her at the bottom of the ramp, and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad your alright, Athena," he said, a subtle waver in his voice. In that moment, whether intentional or not, he let his guard down. And Athena saw something in him she never expected. Was it possible that he... loved her? Was a Sith Lord even allowed... Well he was the leader of the One Sith; he made the rules.
Athena suppressed a smile; perhaps she could use Darth Krayt's feelings for her. She then suppressed a frown. This man was no fool; he had to have some idea as to her intentions. And he was very much in control of his emotions. So why had he let down his guard? Was it to put her at ease so that he could manipulate her somehow? She would have to tread with caution.
Krayt removed his hand. "Daala wants to see us." Athena followed him as he turned and headed toward the rear exit of the hangar. Darth Wyyrlok was waiting patiently for them, and the three walked through a series of hallways. They came to a door guarded by four Stormtroopers, who quickly moved aside.
"Well, that was a bloody disaster," Natasi Daala complained, as the trio entered the conference room. "Have either of you heard from any of our Decepticon friends?"
Athena shook her head as she sat down.
"Megatronus Prime, Soundwave, and Thunderblast were killed," Krayt said. "I believe the others escaped, but it's hard to be sure. Cybertronians aren't as easy to sense as organics."
"Our circumstances aren't completely hopeless," Athena said. "When my people came to this galaxy several years ago, many of them did not survive the journey. The older vessels had less advanced, and less reliable stasis technology. Everyone aboard the older ships died. Do you know what happened to those ships?"
"They're still in the void," Daala ventured.
Athena nodded. "Terran ships are, in a sense, alive. When the people aboard the older vessels died, they became... lonely. My people have recently found ninety seven of these vessels so far, and have begun bringing them back online. And without the Celestials' hyperspace disruptors to contend with it will be a simple matter to bring them here."
"If we work together we might be able to save the galaxy," Darth Krayt mused.
A/N: I recently decided the Lecersen should be a Mark III-which I came up with. The saga continues in Star Wars: The Cybertronian Chronicles VOL 3: The Rise of Unicron. Chapter 1 is up.