Your War, Our Battle

by Crystal Prime

What happens when you get more than you bargained for when taking a vacation? When what you get is a complete upturn of everything you've ever known? What you thought was fiction turns out to be real and what you thought you knew about yourself is brought into question? When you get pulled into a battle between right and wrong while trying to solve the mystery of why this happened?

13. An Unexpected Trip

A/N: I know this may come as a surprise to some of you, but I have an update for you! To be honest, some of this chapter was written already and just needed some editing. I've been looking forward to this chapter and an upcoming reveal for so, so very long. I hope you guys enjoy it and find it intriguing.

Also, the scene at the start of this chapter admittedly could've been tacked on to the end of last chapter, but yeah. I decided to address it at the start of this chapter instead. It was brought to my attention after I had posted that I forgot to address how Shadow' reacted to the whole mess with Springer and I'm doing my best as well to address the issue of it seeming like he's getting away with his behavior, as he is not. I have plans for him, I promise, just be patient.

Chapter 13: An Unexpected Trip

"What's troubling you, Shadowstreaker?" Ironhide asked, giving the mech a look of concern as the mech distractedly fiddled with the clasps of a piece of armor he had made for practice.

"Stormbreaker's told me of my sister's latest confrontation with Springer," Shadowstreaker replied to the mech. "This is the second time they have gotten into a physical altercation in which he has struck her harder and more times than she struck him. I know my sister. She's not usually prone to violence and when she does, she holds back regardless of how angry she is. He doesn't appear to hold back despite the fact we're on the same side."

"Hm," Ironhide hummed as he inspected a separate piece of armor Shadowstreaker had made over the course of his time as his student thus far. "Springer's never been one to hold back against his opponents, even in sparring matches. He does seem to be going out of his way to create a reason to hurt your sister."

"Is anything being done?" Shadowstreaker asked, tone betraying his frustration and anger as his optics flashed to meet Ironhide's.

"Of course something's being done," Ironhide said, sounding almost offended at the idea that nothing was being done. "Prowl, Optimus and I are in discussion of what measures we need to take if he doesn't straighten up soon. We have plans in place if he doesn't get the message from his time off duty and in the brig. And as long as we need to make more plans, we will continue to make them. If he doesn't change, eventually he'll have to be kicked off base."

"Or beat up," Shadowstreaker said. "If you decide to go that route, I volunteer to do the beating. He harrasses one of my sisters and Arcee for interfacing, despite the fact that Storm' is now taken and they have both declined him multiple times, and he antagonizes my other sister until she loses her temper to the point of violence. I have little patience for abuse and what he's doing to Shadebreaker is abuse. His pursuit of Storm' and Arcee is hardly any better."

"I agree," Ironhide said, frowning. "Abuse is not tolerated among the Autobots. Honestly, if he keeps it up, he is going to earn himself a beating. If that happens, he'll be the first Autobot to earn an official beating on the planet Earth." If Shadowstreaker didn't do it for whatever reason, he would do it himself. It might not even make it to an official trial before he got the beating depending on the circumstances.

"Why does he not get one now?" Shadowstreaker asked, raising an optic ridge at Ironhide. There was a challenge in his optics. "It's my understanding that Springer has had these problems in the past."

"In the past, Ultra Magnus handled him and we're not sure what he has and hasn't tried," Ironhide replied. "And he has….grown more severe. He's been bolder and persistent in his pursuit of Stormbreaker and 'Cee. And Shadebreaker is the first femme he's abused rather than pursue or left alone."

"Really?" Shadowstreaker asked, finding that curious. "What makes him target her differently?"

"One can guess, it might be her optic color combined with her status as a Seeker," Ironhide replied as he sat down the piece he was inspecting. He tapped a piece of it, calling Shadowstreaker's attention to the fault in the piece, smiling faintly at the way the other mech's optics betrayed recognition of where he had gone wrong. "While Stormbreaker is also a Seeker, she has blue optics, like most of us. Springer has historically had a problem with any bot with warm colored optics. It's part of why he doesn't respect Prowl. He hardly respects most of us, but there's an extra amount of animosity between him and Prowl."

"What's optic color got to do with it?" Shadowstreaker asked, scowling in displeasure.

"Warm-colors are more often seen among the Decepticons," Ironhide replied with a sigh. "It's an inaccurate assumption, as can be seen by how kind Shade' usually is, but some bots believe those with warm colored optics are more prone to the Decepticon way of thinking."

"That's bullshit, not gonna lie," Shadowstreaker stated flat, giving Ironhide a bit of a blank look. "So he just assumes she's gonna betray us because her optics are orange rather than blue?"

"I can't say for certain, as he's not said anything to the effect to me," Ironhide said as he moved across the room to get the tools they'd need to fix the armor piece Shadowstreaker had made previously. "But it's our best guess. We do not think she will betray us, however. She's kept somewhat of a distance, but she wears enough of her spark on her sleeve, so to speak, that we can tell her loyalty is genuine."

Shadowstreaker nodded. "Shade' wouldn't betray the 'Bots," he confirmed with a tone that left no room for doubt. "There would've been very few scenarios in which she would've ever joined the 'Cons. And if they had taken place, it would've hurt her tremendously to follow something she didn't believe in. But those scenarios didn't happen and they couldn't happen now that we have been established as Autobots. She'd rather die than leave us."

Ironhide smiled at that. "Glad to hear it," he said. "Now," He decided it was time to move on from the topic of their Springer problem and Shadebreaker. "Let me show you how to fix this and then I'll show you the trick with the clasps."

"Thank you," Shadowstreaker said, tone betraying a portion of the frustration he felt at the clasp he had been trying to get to sit right and function smoothly.

Ironhide grinned, pleased the mech didn't have any shyness about thanking him.

~A Few Days Later, Shadebreaker's PoV~

"What?" I asked, pausing as I got an internal notification. My hand stopped where I was working on translating my report into Cy-stan from English. I was still struggling quite a bit with the written language, so I was practicing it. I reread the notification.

Time-Space Portal systems activated.

"What is it, sis?" Stormbreaker asked from her spot next to me in the circle my trinemates and I sat in on the floor as we worked on our reports from our last mission.

Preparing files and codes. 20%.

"I just got a weird notification from my systems," I replied, expression confused.

"Weird how?" Shadowstreaker asked. "Is it telling you that you're going to get taller?" His optics sparkled with his tease.

Preparing….. 35%.

"Ha," I said. 40%... "It's not an upgrade….at least not that kind?" I wasn't sure. Maybe it would qualify as an upgrade? But what the heck was a Time-Space Portal system?

Preparing…. 80%. That was a jump.

"Well, what's it say?" Stormbreaker asked curiously.

Preparation complete. Initiating.

What? No! Abort!

Processing…...Error….Continuing initiation.

"Something about Time-Space Portals…." I said, frowning and narrowing my optics in concern.

Abort, I said!

"You should probably ask Ratchet about it," Shadowstreaker said, looking a bit concerned.

Processing….. Processing…..

"Or you could just activate it and see what happens," Stormbreaker grinned slightly. "Whatever happens would surely be more interesting than these reports!"

Error….. Command Overridden...

"Until we get dropped in a volcano," Shadowstreaker said drily.

Stop!

Does not compute. Initiating portals.

"Whelp," I said.

And that was all I got out before a portal opened up beneath us and we fell into it, each with a sound of surprise.

"I meant with some warning!" Stormbreaker yelled as we fell through waves of blue, white and purple. It would be pretty if I wasn't salty about not having control over this happening.

"I didn't tell it to activate, it just did!" I protested, vocs glitching slightly in a way similar to a voice cracking for a human.

"So you have a self-deciding system, great," Shadowstreaker said sarcastically.

I tried to reach for my siblings, but couldn't reach them. I was afraid we were going to be separated by whatever was happening, as we were slowly drifting away from each other. "Or maybe, it's because it just activated, it just decided to activate-activate." I commented.

"Either way," Stormbreaker said. "I wonder where we're going to drop off at."

"Better question might be when," I said, thinking of what my systems had called this system.

Before anyone could answer, my vision went white and I closed my optics to guard against the brightness. I grunted as I hit the ground with a loud clanking sound that echoed. I opened my optics and shifted to find myself in a confined metal tunnel. There was a light breeze running through it and I heard sounds of many bots at work coming through the walls and echoing down the vents.

I swallowed, thinking it was better to stay quiet until I learned where I was. I looked around to see if I could see my trinemates anywhere, but couldn't see them. I checked my bonds, glad to find that I at least still felt them, though they felt distant. That meant they had been dropped off somewhere else, somewhere a good distance away. Just like I had feared might happen when we had started drifting away from each other in the vortex of the portal.

Time jump completed.

I groaned, but decided to intercom my trinemates. "Storm'? Shadow'? Do you read me?"

"Y-yeah. Ow," Stormbreaker's voice came over the comm.

"I read you," Shadowstreaker's voice came through sounding a little more steady. "We appear to be on Cybertron, by the way. And from the looks of things, the war hasn't happened yet."

"My system called it a time jump," I replied. "Logically, we can assume we've entered the past. Just where in the timeline, it's hard to tell immediately. We must be careful not to do anything that might affect the timeline."

"Aw, but what if we could make something better?" Stormbreaker asked, though I sensed she was only asking to be devil's advocate.

"If we change something, even a small thing, it may snowball into something bigger and it may make worse things happen than what does happen," Shadowstreaker pointed out. "Don't step on any butterflies."

"Are there any butterflies on Cybertron?" I asked, wondering what a Cybertronian butterfly would look like.

"Yeah, I see one," Stormbreaker replied and I could hear amusement in her tone. "I'll snap a picture for you."

"Yes, please and thank you," I said, grinning to myself. "Where are you guys, by the way?"

"Unsure," Shadowstreaker replied, sounding slightly distracted. "Wait, no, I know where I am. I see the Hall of Records, so I must be in Iacon."

"I have no clue where I am," Stormbreaker replied. "What about you?"

"Unclear," I replied. "Other than that I am in a ventilation system."

"Well, since we know where I am, we should plan to meet up here in Iacon," Shadowstreaker said. "And then we can go home. And figure out what the deal is with these portals of yours."

"Assuming I can figure out how to get us home," I said drily. "I'll get back to you once I find my way out of these vents and figure out what direction I need to fly to get to Iacon, assuming I'm not already in Iacon. Who even knows?"

"And how are we to figure out how to get to Iacon?" Stormbreaker asked.

"Asking someone for directions shouldn't change much…" I said, sounding doubtful. "I mean, it could, but I don't know how else to find our way. It's not like we've ever been here before or that our systems come with a built in map. A map would be nice."

"Beats flying around aimlessly," Stormbreaker said. "I'll ask someone who's not doing anything, so it is less likely to stop them from doing something on time or something."

"Sounds like a good plan," Shadowstreaker said. "I'll take a look around and do my best not to affect anything. I'll talk to you both later."

"See ya soon!" Stormbreaker replied at the same time I replied with "See you at Iacon!"

I signed off the intercom and then focused on trying to find my way through the vents without calling attention to myself. I had no idea where I was going or how I was going to get out without detection, but I was gonna gosh darn try it. I moved slowly through the vents, keeping my spark signature cloaked and visor on to keep track of the bots who were outside, in the actual building.

"Huh," I said very quietly to myself as a slightly familiar spark signature was picked up by my visor. One I had only come across on the battlefield, indicating it was likely a Decepticon, or future Decepticon.

I shifted closer to the vent cover of the room I was in the vents to. I adjusted my visor to lower the brightness level of the amount of glow it allowed through it from my optics, but focused it on the room's occupants. I had to close my mouth where it fell open at the unexpected sight. There was Starscream, standing at a table with different lab things on it as he seemed to be mixing something. I looked toward the other spark signature and found a red-opticked black and purple seeker sprawled lazily across a couch. If my knowledge was right, this was probably Skywarp, Starscream's trinemate. Which meant Thundercracker was probably somewhere. I hadn't realized they existed in this reality. Why hadn't I seen them?

"Are you done tinkering with your toys, Screamie?" the black and purple mech whined, stretched out on the couch in a dramatic fashion. "I'm bored!"

"It's science, not toys, Skywarp," Starscream sighed, swirling the liquid in the beaker as he held it up to examine it.

Skywarp groaned. "Whatever! I'm bored!"

"If you're so bored, go out for a flight," Starscream suggested, seemingly dissatisfied with the reaction the liquid had and turning back to the slew of things laid out on the table.

"It's not as fun alone," Skywarp sighed. "TC's wings are still healing from his crash last night."

"That is your own fault," a new voice stated.

I turned toward the door to see a mostly blue seeker mech walking into the room. He had a brace on one of his wings and he appeared to be taller than Starscream was by several feet. His red optics betrayed his unhappiness as they landed on Skywarp with a look of mild annoyance.

"If you hadn't cut me off," the new mech, likely Thundercracker, continued. "I wouldn't be grounded and you wouldn't have to fly by yourself while Starscream's busy."

"I was trying to avoid a cyber-hawk!" Skywarp protested the blame. "Blame it!"

I couldn't help smirking in amusement as it seemed like an argument Stormbreaker or I would've made.

"The hawk wasn't even in your flight path!" Thundercracker growled.

Skywarp shut up immediately, optics widening in surprise and I saw an amount of fear in them. Trepidation oozed off Skywarp's body language, making me wonder if this was the first time the blue mech had growled like that or if it wasn't and it spelled trouble.

Thundercracker sighed and rubbed his temple. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for," he said.

"Apology accepted," Skywarp said, tone apologetic and quiet. His wings dipped in apology. "I'm sorry I got you grounded."

"Apology accepted," Thundercracker said. "What about we play some games?" He suggested after a moment.

I found myself immensely curious about the mechs as Skywarp leapt from the couch in enthusiasm to Thundercracker's suggestion. We didn't have any other Seekers on base besides my trinemates and I. I decided that, since I was lost anyways, I could spare some time to watch them interact while I checked to see if I couldn't remotely hack into a nearby connection to the data network to check my location and how to get out of the building and to Iacon. I was curious to know how other Seekers behaved and if there were any parallels between them and us.

I smiled as I watched Thundercracker and Skywarp play their game—a board game that kind of reminded me of monopoly. There were obvious differences, but it still reminded me of my trinemates. The interactions were similar, even if the jokes were different and personalities different as well. Skywarp was more dramatic than Stormbreaker, but I could see similarities. Meanwhile, Thundercracker was the more logic driven one, like Shadowstreaker, though not entirely to the same extent as my adopted brother. Starscream's occasional input into the jokes brought a grin to my face as I realized there was so much to the Seeker you just didn't see on the battlefield, away from his trinemates.

One thing struck me the most as I watched and listened to them. They weren't acting like mechs who would one day become Decepticons. There was no trace of the Starscream I had met in the field in this Seeker beyond his appearance and Spark signature. My gut, that usually told me whether to trust someone or not and was usually right, told me that this was the real Starscream and that the one I had met was a disguise. And I wondered why there hadn't been any reports of Skywarp and Thundercracker on Earth. It was clear the three were close, so why? Why weren't they with him? What happened?

It was while Starscream was testing his fifth sample, his brothers a good portion into their game, and I was almost through the firewalls on the terminal I was hacking that the door was suddenly smashed in, startling all three seekers in the room and myself. Luckily, their own noise from the surprise combined with the sound of the door clanging loudly on the floor covered up the sound I made when I jumped, hitting my helm.

Faster than any of the three could react, a squad of mechs poured through the door and had Starscream's brothers pinned and bound in the time it took the trine leader to turn around. In another second, Starscream's arms were twisted behind his back and he was forced onto his knees. I covered my mouth to keep from making noise as my optics widened behind my visor.

"Hey!" Skywarp protested as he was forced into the same position as Starscream. "What's the deal?!" He flinched as his arms were twisted painfully and he struggled some. "Let me go!"

"Shut up!" the mech restraining him growled, striking the mech in between his wings, making Skywarp cry out in pain.

It took everything in me not to clammer out of the vent in order to try to help him. Future Decepticon he may be, it was hard for me to watch him be hurt and not do anything. This wasn't a battlefield. The war hadn't even started yet. And there had been no declaration of this being an arrest. These weren't Enforcers. Not one of them even had the logo upon their armor. Whatever was happening here wasn't ok.

"Fragger!" Thundercracker said and I heard fury in his voice. "Leave him alone!" He shoved his captor off and made a dive for the mech restraining Skywarp only to be shot by a blast of energy and falling back to the ground, smoke coming off where he was shot. Immediately a mech rushed to restrain him again.

I bit back a whimper as I checked his vitals with my visor. He was alive, just out cold. The weapon used hadn't been a standard stun gun, but it had stunning properties. It had left damage, but not enough to be dangerous. Yet.

My optics went to the source of the shot and my optics widened at the sight of the familiar mech. A tall, silver mech standing at about the same height as Optimus stood in the doorway, a fusion cannon lifted, clearly powering down after firing a round. The mech had red optics filled with anger and hate and sharp denta were visible where the mech was snarling down at the Seeker trine. I knew exactly who this was and my wings lowered in fear for the mechs. I had a sinking feeling about what was happening here and my frame trembled just slightly.

"Why you!" Starscream growled, wings twitching in anger. "Let my brothers go!" He struggled a bit against the bot restraining him.

"That wouldn't benefit me very much, now would it? Starscream?" the mech said smoothly. He grinned toothily at the Seeker's distress. "I am Megatron and I am here with a proposal."

Starscream narrowed his optics at the mech and there was defiance in his optics.

"Whatever it is, the answer is no," Skywarp growled from where he was restrained. "We know how you work."

Megatron growled and motioned to the mech restraining the purple and black seeker.

Skywarp cried out as he was stomped into the ground by his captor in a painful strike between the wings. The mech exerted more pressure than necessary to keep the seeker pinned in order to inflict the most pain. I had to bite into my finger to keep myself quiet as I watched, helpless. We had agreed not to change anything, not to affect anything. Even if we hadn't, I stood no chance against Megatron. If I made my presence known, no matter my intention, I was more likely to die than anything else and that could lead to a lot of problems if I died here.

"I wasn't talking to you," Megatron said, aiming his fusion cannon at the youngest of the trine, powering it up.

"Stop!" Starscream yelled, trying to leap forward, though he was held back by the bot restraining him. "If you hurt either of them the answer is a definite no!" He growled, glaring darkly at Megatron.

Megatron paused and looked over at Starscream before a twisted grin slowly made its way onto his faceplates. "And what benefit do I get in letting them live?" he asked. He lowered his cannon and walked over to Starscream, lifting him up by his chest armor.

Starscream ground his denta and glanced over to where his trinemates were both pinned down. Skywarp was struggling to get up, only succeeding in making his captor cause him more pain. Thundercracker was unconscious from the blast he had taken, though the mech was still restrained regardless. He looked back at Megatron.

"If you release them, I will work for you," Starscream said. "Just don't kill them. Let them go. Please." His voice broke a little bit and he looked at the larger mech with pleading optics.

"I think not," Megatron said, tossing Starscream into the wall by his left.

The Air Commander gasped in pain as he made contact with the wall. I had to swallow back a yelp and I scooted back further into the vent to avoid detection as this was the wall containing the vent I was in. I closed my optics to hide the glow completely, but I heard the powering up of Megatron's fusion cannon.

"Letting them go would only take away my leverage, you see," Megatron said smoothly. "They'll be coming with me. As for you… Either you work for me or else…" Megatron trailed off, but I imagined he must be pointing his fusion cannon either at Starscream or one of his trinemates.

"W-Wait!" Starscream pleaded, voice desperate. "I'll...I'll do whatever you want!" He sounded like a broken mech, terrified. "Just don't hurt them…"

"Screamer! No! Don't give into this lunatic!" Skywarp cried. "Argh!" I heard what sounded like a very solid thunk and then he fell silent.

"Skywarp!" Starscream called and growled at Megatron.

"Now, now. Don't be like that," Megatron grinned evilly. "You make any move against me and they both die." He turned to his troops. "Take them to Shockwave! He'll be in charge of them."

My frame trembled as I recognized the name of the Decepticon scientist. I nearly wept in horror for their sake.

Megatron laughed, the sound something I knew would haunt my nightmares. "Oh don't worry," he said to Starscream, voice smooth and full of what I imagined was the charm that convinced so many to follow him. "Shockwave won't harm them unless I tell him to. And I won't tell him to," he paused. "As long as you behave, that is."

I opened my optics again as I heard Megatron's pedes moving away from my hiding place. I looked out the vent again from where I was, not daring to get any closer to the vent again. I didn't have a clear view, but I saw Megatron's pedes pause as his cronies dragged Skywarp and Thundercracker out the door. He turned back to Starscream and regarded the Seeker as he was shoved to the floor.

"A war is coming, Starscream," Megatron said. "And if you ever want to see your brothers again, you and your Seekers will follow me. You will provide the Decepticons with air support and do my bidding. If not, I can guarantee your brothers will not have an easy death. Any move made against me is suffering for them. Remember that."

Starscream didn't reply, though he snarled at Megatron, which only seemed to amuse the mech. The Decepticon leader left then, leaving Starscream alone in the room with me silently hiding in the vent. I wanted desperately to go out to the mech as I saw him crumble on the floor, tears in his optics.

"What have I done?" Starscream asked, voice full of broken anger. "I'm so pathetic….I couldn't do anything."

I felt my spark break for him as he cursed Megatron and cursed himself, punching his fists into the ground. I lost my focus somewhere during all that in my fear and spark-break and with most of my focus going into staying hidden. I lost all of my progress in hacking the terminal, thus I would have to start over. But I couldn't focus on it. Not with Starscream's ranting of frustration and anger and pain. Not with the emotions I felt swirling around in my own spark clouding my mind.

"Sis?! What the hell is wrong? You feel tumultuous across the bond! I'd be surprised if Optimus couldn't sense it from the future!" Stormbreaker intercommed me.

I knew she was exaggerating a bit to hammer in the fact that I was in no way calm at the moment. I swallowed back my fear and curled up in the vent, trying to control my trembling.

"Shade'," Shadowstreaker's voice reached me next. "Talk to us. What happened?"

"I'll have to tell you specifics when this is over," I replied. "In case we're being listened to. Let's just say, Megatron is a terrifying mech. Who does terrifying things to get bots to do as he wishes."

"You saw Megatron?" Stormbreaker asked, sounding slightly distressed. "Did he see you?!"

"No," I replied. "At least, I don't think he did. I think he would've reacted if he had seen me and he didn't." I could, of course, be wrong, though I hoped I wasn't.

"Good," Shadowstreaker said. "You need to get out of there before you're discovered."

"I know, I know, I'm working on it," I said and my optics went again to Starscream as the mech paced urgently. He seemed to get a message from someone as he paused and made a face before leaving. "I'll talk to you when I've made it to Iacon, ok?"

With Starscream gone, there was no one left in the room and I was free to exit the vent. I did so and took a look around, optics pausing on the destroyed door. No doubt someone would be along to fix that shortly. I didn't have much time, though there was another room where the terminal I had been trying to remotely hack was located. I would be safer and would get more notice of someone approaching in there.

I moved to the other room, closing and locking the door behind me in order to buy myself more time. I took a look around the room and paused in surprise, blinking a couple times. It seemed to be a bedroom, with a bed and a desk and shelves. There was a large bay window on one wall and various items on the shelves, including a picture of Starscream and his trinemates as younglings playing together under the watchful gaze of two other Seekers—a femme and a mech, both adults, possibly their parents. The picture made me think of my own childhood and the times my siblings and I had played together—Christmas time specifically, despite the lack of wrapping paper or decorations or anything that might indicate it was a particularly special day.

"This must be his home," I muttered to myself as I gazed around.

A seething kind of anger rose in my spark. People weren't even safe from Megatron in their own homes it seemed. I wasn't unfamiliar with not feeling safe in my own home, but it was a basic right in my viewpoint. Home was supposed to be a place of safety. My wings pinned back as I moved over to the desk and the terminal that sat upon it. I got to work immediately in hacking in, grateful for the lessons from Jazz and Arcee on how to do so. I found what I needed fairly quickly, memorizing the directions to Iacon as my wings shifted.

"Hm," I hummed to myself, hesitated before turning the terminal back off. I turned and looked around the room again, optics searching. I hadn't heard anyone enter the previous room yet and my visor didn't give me any lifesigns. My optics landed on what appeared to be a medal for some flight competition on one of the shelves with Starscream's name on it. This must be his room specifically.

"Ok," I said to myself, making a decision.

Instead of closing the terminal down, I opened up a writing program on it. My Cybertronian writing skills were faulty, but I knew enough I could leave a message. Nothing extravagant or that would potentially change the future, but something to give the mech reason to hold onto his softer side, a reason to believe he could escape Megatron. I thought back to my encounters with him, searching for something to tell him as a sign.

"Oh," I said softly as I remembered one encounter. I had called him the Dorito of Doom one time when we were separated from the main fighting and were in a stand off. He had been taken aback briefly, but then had lowered his weapon as his optics flashed in recognition and he flew away. "Oh!"

It struck me that he had remembered this message and I must've told him to seek me out in the future and that he would know me by that phrase. That was the only logical explanation. One could argue that I was risking changing the future like this, but evidence was there that the reality I called home included this message in it. This had to happen for things to go as they did. I couldn't just leave it there, though, as I hadn't known about his predicament then and I likely wouldn't believe him if he approached me before this experience. So I did the mental math of how long has passed since then and gave that timeframe as well as when to find a way to approach me without arousing suspicions of what he was up to. I told him it was going to be a very long time before he met me and I wished him and his brothers the best in getting through until then. I wished I could do something sooner, but I couldn't mess with the timeline anymore than this. I hoped he understood and I hoped I wouldn't be too late.

Once the message was written, I double-checked it once before I heard movement in the other room. I quickly saved it, set it to open upon the next booting up of this terminal and then shut the terminal down. By the time someone was opening the door, I had escaped through the window, moving quickly around the building and out of sight before taking off toward Iacon. I hoped I had made the right decision. I hoped that when it did come time to make due on my promise that it wouldn't be too late. That his brothers would still be alive. That he wouldn't be too corrupted by centuries working for Megatron.

Where there's life, there's hope, I reminded myself. Starscream was alive yet in my time. There was definitely still a chance. He had reacted to me calling him the Dorito of Doom. He had flown off instead of engaging me in further conflict. Surely that was a sign that he still held onto hope to one day leave the Decepticons, right? I could hope. I didn't know him personally, but I could understand being in a place you don't want to be. I could emphasize and feel compassion anyways, despite the fact that many I had met would question why I even cared. My trinemates might even question, but they'd understand easier and quicker than most.

~Somewhere in Iacon~

Stormbreaker looked around, trying to determine where she was and how to get to Iacon—she had yet to determine where exactly she was. She was looking for someone to ask who wasn't busy with something, but all of the bots she saw looked to be in a rush to get somewhere.

"Oh," she said quietly to herself as she saw a femme that looked familiar to her sitting on what looked to be a fountain. She wasn't completely sure if it was who she thought it was, though.

It was a tall, pink femme with blue optics that appeared troubled as she watched the bots around her. She was a grounder, as most of the bots walking about the area were. Their optics met and Stormbreaker hesitated only a moment before approaching the femme.

"Why the long face?" she asked in her accented Cy-stan.

The pink femme looked a little surprised that she approached her. "Am I that obviously troubled?"

"Only to one who pays attention," Stormbreaker shrugged as she took a seat next to her. "My sister has subtle expressions, so I'm used to picking out the smallest of signs."

"Ah," the pink femme smiled a little bit at the blue seeker. "I'm not sure you really want to know what troubles me."

"I merely wish to know if I can be of assistance," Stormbreaker replied with a grin.

"Oh? And what about you? You seem a little lost yourself," the femme replied.

Stormbreaker looked rather sheepish at that. "Maybe a little," she agreed. "I'm not sure where I am, but I need to get to Iacon to meet up with my siblings. We got….separated...it's complicated."

The pink femme chuckled a little bit. "Well, you don't have far to go," she told the seeker. "You're in Iacon already."

"Oh! Guess that's what I get for not knowing my geography," Stormbreaker grinned sheepishly.

The femme chuckled.

"Now what can I help you with?" Stormbreaker asked, ever persistent.

The femme shook her helm. "Unless you can tell me how to stop an oncoming war, there's not much you can do," she said.

"Can't help with that, sorry," Stormbreaker said, though a few ideas ran through her helm she knew she shouldn't do or suggest. "Anything a little less world threatening, though? Aggravations you need someone to listen to? Relationship problems?"

"Relationship problems?" the pink femme asked, giving the blue femme a thoughtful look.

"I mean, I can't say I'll have the answer for sure, but I'm in a relationship and have past experiences as well, so maybe," Stormbreaker said, shrugging with a slight grin. "From your expression there is something about that troubling you."

"Well," the femme said, looking at the seeker thoughtfully. Something about her seemed to tell her she could trust her. And sometimes, she had learned, someone outside of a situation could give some pretty good insight. "It's more of a question of whether I should try to pursue a relationship with a mech I like."

"Do you just like him, or do you liiiike him?" Stormbreaker asked, optics sparkling.

"I-I, um," the pink femme looked a little flustered. "I feel a spark pull toward him. He's so gentle and kind. But…."

"But?" Stormbreaker asked.

"With the war brewing, it hardly feels like the right time," the pink femme said. "And I feel like he is going to be an important figure in the fight and he doesn't need the distraction."

"Hmm," Stormbreaker hummed. "May I ask who this mech is? If he's so important?"

"I'm sure you've heard his name," the femme said, cheeks coloring a bit. She leaned over to tell her in tones no one would be able to hear. "It's Orion Pax."

"Oooh," Stormbreaker said, optics brightening in recognition. That pretty much proved this femmbot was who she thought she was. Optimus Prime's sparkmate, or future sparkmate at the moment, Elita-1, formerly known as Ariel.

"He has so much to worry about, he doesn't need a relationship to juggle as well," the pink femme, who Stormbreaker now knew was Ariel, said.

"Sometimes it's not about need," Stormbreaker said. "It's about want. Especially with relationships. You shouldn't need each other, you should want each other. And if you both care about each other enough, you'll make it work. There's…..well, there's a lot going on for my mech and myself as well, but we make it work. We make time for each other in the between moments, just like we do for our friends. There's a lot to juggle, but when you're committed to someone, you don't mind the times you aren't together, cause you know you love and care for each other and there will be time together when you can find it and you cherish those times. If you truly love him and feel that spark pull, you should tell him. I'm sure that if he feels the same way, he will work with you to figure out a way for it to work for you. Where there's a will, there's a way."

"So you think I should go for it?" Ariel asked, looking at the blue femme.

Stormbreaker grinned. "You bet I do! I did with my mech and I would do it again," she said, a fondness in her optics. "Just because times are hard, it doesn't make life come to a stand still. Believe me, you'll be happier if you pursue this relationship than you'd be if you didn't until it was too late."

"I will keep your advice in mind," Ariel said, bowing her helm. She tilted her helm, debating about asking the blue femme a question. "Thank you."

"Of course," Stormbreaker grinned.

Ariel was about to ask something else when they were interrupted by a black mech approaching, standing a significant height taller than her conversation partner.

"There you are, bro!" Stormbreaker said, noticing the black mech and springing up with a grin. "I found you!"

"I believe I found you," Shadowstreaker corrected with dry tone, amusement showing in his optics. He bowed his helm to Ariel in greeting. "I am sorry to break up the conversation, but we must be finding our sister so we can return home safely."

"Indeed," Stormbreaker nodded in agreement. She gave Ariel a slight bow, unaware how the femme was a bit perplexed at the fact a Seeker was giving a bow more close to a Praxian bow. "We shall see you in the future." There was a knowing sparkle in her optics that Ariel also found to be curious.

Shadowstreaker resisted the urge to roll his optics and then turned, leading his sister away. "Untl next time," he gave the pink femme a polite farewell, nodding to her slightly.

"Until next time," Ariel said, watching the fliers disappear into the crowd with so many questions on her mind. Like why there seemed to be a vague resemblance in the femme's optics to Orion. And where she had come from, as she hadn't recognized her accent, nor, she realized, the black mech's accent either. It wasn't Vosian or Iaconian or any of the great many accents she was familiar with. It almost sounded like- nah, that wasn't possible. She shrugged off her confusion and then turned her attention to Jazz as he finally arrived.

~Third Morning After Arrival in the Past, High Council Chambers, Iacon, Normal PoV~

The High Council met in a chamber made in the shape of an idealized spark, with radiant arms running in three dimensions away from a central space where the Council stood at a slightly curved row of podiums. Each member held a gavel and each could indicate to the moderator that they wished to speak. The gallery was in several balconies rising vertically away from a viewing area on the floor. There wasn't an empty space to be seen as bots from all around Iacon and some from beyond came to see how this meeting would go.

Chromia, along with a rather small friend of hers that sat on her shoulder, had managed to get front row on the ground level with a clear view of Orion and Megatron. Jazz and Ariel stood across the way from them, a youngling Arcee standing beside them, not completely sure what all the excitement was about. Ratchet and Wheeljack were not present, but they would be watching on the holonet when they weren't busy saving a patient's life where they were still helping at the triage facility in Polyhex.

Orion wasn't the only one with friends in the crowd, however. Soundwave sat among the crowd in the balconies and Barricade was present as well as a few other of Megatron's followers, whether they were followers by choice, like Barricade, or by some form of coercion, like Starscream. Starscream himself wasn't present as he was running his own secret errand to the Trypticon station to make sure it was secure for any possible takeover attempt by Megatron.

Somewhere in the crowd also stood Shadowstreaker, as the Breaker Trine had agreed to witness this meeting before going home. He was quiet as he observed the meeting alongside Stormbreaker, who was scanning the crowd for their sister—the only one who could get them home.

Said sister was somewhere in the higher levels, trying not to stress out too much in such a crowd or pay attention to the unpleasant looks she received from some nearby Praxians. She scanned the crowd to locate her trinemates, but saw no way of getting to them without making any kind of disturbance. Her visor was on both to assist her in watching and to hide the anxiety and stress in her optics. She kept her wings perfectly still.

The moderator, Halogen, tapped his gavel on his podium, signalling that the business of settling in was over. "We are here," he started in a booming voice that could be heard by everybot present. "To take up a question of the greatest consequence. It is a question that has brought our civilization from peace to the edge of war in a very few megacycles. The Council first states without reservations that it deplores the acts of violence that have taken place so far. Those must be answered for and one of our goals today is to discern who should answer for them." He leveled a look down at Orion and Megatron, gauging their responses.

Megatron had a subtle smirk on his faceplate, while Orion merely looked somber at the mention. Halogen noted the reactions, filing it away to help in his own decision of who was guilty of these crimes.

"Further, the question of the legitimacy of the caste system will be addressed," he continued. "The Council feels the system was implemented legally and that Sentinel Prime has overseen it in a prudent way. If he were here, he would be able to speak for himself, but this brings us to a dire reality. There are those among us who would prefer violence and terror to discussion and consensus."

He let that settle in for a moment before continuing, playing to the many Grid feeds in the chamber. "Sentinel Prime, the Council believes you to be alive and well. We call upon your captors to renounce their ways, release you, and present themselves to justice. Regardless of the merits of this argument, it must not be prosecuted in lawless acts of this nature."

"Hear, hear!" a member of the Council called out. Ratbat was known for being corrupt and he only believed in something for more than a cycle if he was paid to. It was hard to tell what side he was truly on.

A few other voices picked up in echo of his statement and Halogen gaveled for order. "I beg of you to contain yourselves fellow Councilors," he said severely. "Or else how may we ask of our audience to keep themselves in check?"

After a pause filled with silence, he continued.

"It is said that the former gladiator now known as Megatron is responsible for the disappearance of Sentinel Prime. This is a most troubling accusation and must be addressed. It is further said that the seekers and their commander Starscream have been recruited into Megatron's unsavory operations. This too must be addressed despite the absence of the Air Commander himself." Halogen paused, looking around the chamber. "Introductions are wearisome. Let us begin to hear from the citizens. First the High Council, under penalty of confinement and further justice, commands the Cybertronian of Kaon known as Megatron to present himself."

Megatron took a step forward. "I am here," he said.

Halogen and the other Councilors took a long time to look the gladiator over.

"Are you the Kaonian industrial worker and so-called gladiatorial champion who assumed the moniker Megatron?" the Council Secretary, a powerful seeker named Contrail, asked.

"I am." Megatron replied.

"By what authority do you claim this name?" Contrail asked, looking skeptical.

"By my own and no other," Megatron answered in a confident tone.

The audacity of this answer caused a ripple of surprise, tinged with approval and condemnation in equal parts, to spread throughout the audience. Halogen banged his gavel and the noise subsided.

After a moment of irritated staring at the gallery, Contrail went on. The tone of his voice had acquired a new edge. "Are you not aware that names are presented at the Well of Allsparks and nowhere else?"

"I am aware of that tradition," Megatron replied. "I do not recognize it as the only possibility."

"Let us not quibble over the protocol of how a citizen chooses to identify himself," Ratbat interjected. "Surely there are more interesting, more pressing, questions to ask."

"Just as there are protocols for this Council to be followed just as surely," Halogen stated, leveling a look at the smallest Councilor.

Ratbat nodded and spoke no more.

"Your testimony before the Council," Contrail resumed where he had left off, "Is commanded to be truthful and complete."

"And so it shall," Megatron stated. "Although I fear that the complete truths I have to offer will not please those of the Council who prefer obeisance rather than the interchange of equals."

The gallery broke into a sea of murmurs once more. And once more, Halogen gaveled them to silence as Contrail glared down anybot who dared to meet his optics. Orion met them and gazed right back at him. He hadn't spoken a word, but he wouldn't be cowed by anybot today. The days of hierarchies on Cybertron were over, or at the very least waning. Orion Pax could look around the chamber and see it in the postures and attitudes present in the audience. He wondered if the Councilors saw it too, if they were already calculating how to bring about the change that was being demanded.

In all probability, if the Councilors did make the changes here today, they would frame it as their own idea. Their own action performed for their own reasons rather than something brought to them by others. Orion had known this coming into the chamber and he had already decided that he would accept whatever grandstanding they did if it meant achieving their goal. But he did not know how Megatron felt on the topic.

It seemed he might be about to find out.

Contrail nodded to Halogen, signalling that the identification and swearing-in of the witness had concluded and that the testimony could begin. Halogen turned to Megatron.

"You may speak now, Megatron," he stated.

"In the beginning," Megatron started, "I had no name." He paused a moment to let that sink in. "None of us did. We spoke to each other, down in the mines and smelters, by electronic signature. We indicated each other by function. We assigned each other nicknames. I was D-16, named for the sector of the mines where I conducted demolition operations. And then I saw my first match in the gladiator pits." Megatron had spoken exclusively to the Council so far. Now he extended an arm and indicated the industrial crew that had come to hear. "That is where I learned first the reality of lower caste life. The bots that none of you ever take a nanoklik to consider. Each Cybertron in that balcony has seen more Cybertronians die than the total of the rest of you in the gallery! Our lives are useless!"

His voice rose to thunder out the last sentence. Reflexively, Halogen tapped his gavel.

"Until," Megatron continued over the echo of the tap of the gavel. "Until we decided we had worth. We, the lower caste. The bots who die in subsurface mills and factories creating all of the things that you up here take for granted. We learned that we were individuals by facing off against each other in the gladiator pits in Slaughter City and Kaon. And how did we know we were individuals?" He waited for a moment to let that sink in. The chamber was silent as gallery and Council alike waited for his next flourish.

"We were individuals, because as we killed our opponents in the ring, we saw in their optics the realization that they were individuals. And so we were too. In killing we learned that even we who are disposable to the upper caste are individuals. We understood life and that we had value. Someone would cheer when we killed and roar in anger when we died.

"So if our lives had worth-even to others just as worthless as we were-then we had the right to names," Megatron stated. "And that is how the sequence started that has led me to being before you today. My friend Orion Pax, I thank you for helping our cause reach this platform; and to the High Council, I express my thanks for your time and attention."

And with that surprisingly conciliatory ending—as that is what it came off as to Orion in any case—Megatron fell silent, awaiting questions. They were not long in coming.

"In what way are you linked to the terrorist bombings of Six Lasers and other sites a couple cycles ago?" Contrail asked, starting the line of questioning.

"I had nothing to do with those actions," Megatron said smoothly. "An issue such as this raises intense passions. I myself feel passionately about it. The difference between me and those who would bomb Six Lasers is that I channel my passions in a direction I believe will be better for all Cybertronians. I disavow any act that does not ultimately herald a new and better era on Cybertron."

A clever phrasing, Orion Pax thought. He remembered his conversation with Megatron in which the gladiator said the existence of extremists made him look reasonable by comparison. Orion was not convinced that he had had no part in the bombings, however. He knew Minah, the small companion who sat on Chromia's shoulder in the gallery, strongly believed the mech was and she would likely say he was lying to their faces, but he was willing to believe otherwise given proof otherwise.

"Clearly you are exceptional, especially for one of your caste," Contrail parried. "Are you not responsible if your rhetoric excites those unfortunates without your willpower, though? Do you not have the same kind of responsibility that this Council and its members have, if your leadership position is to be taken seriously?"

"What you have to worry is what happens if my leadership is not taken seriously," Megatron said.

"It would seem that we have seen that already," a new voice interjected, Drivetrain. He was the only Council member not from the higher castes, instead being from the middle caste of construction.

"I will say it again. I had nothing to do with those bombings or the attack on Altihex," Megatron stood resolute.

Orion Pax found himself surprised that Megatron could stand before the Council and blatantly ignore the truth. Even if he had not ordered the bombings, his followers carried them out and he should've taken responsibility and done something about it.

"You will say it again and I will disbelieve it again," Drivetrain said. "Would you have me believe that your co-conspirator, a data clerk in the House of Records, masterminded an invasion and kidnapping using a force of bots who identified themselves as Decepticons and specifically claimed their allegiance to you?"

"Decepticon?" Megatron echoed. "An interesting name."

In the audience, Shadebreaker was frowning deeply as she analyzed the mech's words and tones. From what she could tell and knew from her history studies, Megatron had ordered the bombings. He had everything to do with them and even if he hadn't it was clear he was responsible at least in part from this meeting. Yet he was denying any claim of responsibility. He didn't know the meaning of the word, clearly. She got the sense that he had been the one to come up with the name and was now playing it otherwise. He was giving diplomatic bullshit answers and, for the first time, she realized how he had convinced so many to follow him.

"You would think so," Drivetrain pressed. "Since it was you who coined it, was it not?"

Megatron drew himself to his full height. He was larger than most Cybertronians, and the diffuse light of the Council Chamber made his combat scars stand out in silvery, almost luminous, lines. "I would say you should implicate neither me nor my friend Orion Pax until you have facts. What other bots might have said means nothing to me. But if the term Decepticon is to be laid at my pedes, I accept it!" he said. "Sometimes deception is necessary, when those who should listen to the truth will not, and will only understand once they have been lied to and forced to see their own lies."

"Very well Drivetrain. You have provoked him," Ratbat said. He looked around to see if any of the other Councilors were going to speak. None did. Orion Pax thought in that moment that it was all a charade. That they were never going to get an answer from the Council…

That if there was going to be a war, that it was decided before they even entered the chamber. Perhaps even before Alpha Trion had gotten them this audience.

A shouting match had erupted while Orion was distracted by Ratbat's blathering about choice and collective good.

"What the High Council has so far failed to understand is that it is our right!" Megatron boomed over Halogen's gavel. "Each and every Cybertronian has a right to question the Council's actions, and to demand change when those actions fall short of the Council's mandate." With that, apparently a parting shot in a salvo match of which Orion Pax had missed, Megatron paused.

"What say the guilds?" Halogen croaked.

"Representative of the Guilds, Sigil speaking," said a Cybertronian just as ancient and doddering as Halogen, who was as old as the Thirteen. The two had emerged from the Well on the same day, backing each other whenever conflict arose ever since. At least, that was the story as most understood it.

"Speak Sigil," the High Council droned in unison.

"The Guilds claim the right that is theirs," Sigil indicated the assembled heads of the Guilds, who administered the castes and exercised absolute control over which newborn Cybertronians were routed into which castes. "For thousands of orbits and more—since the disappearance of the Primes, in fact—the Guilds of Cybertron have guided the populace in their decisions about life and work. Without the guilds there would be no developed civilization. There would be no Space Bridges, no Hydrax Plateau spaceport, no Moon Bases, no Teletran 1 and no Iacon."

He turned to address the Council, after having played to the gallery for the first part of his speech. "Can one criminal...one gladiator with the deaths of how many innocents on his servos...can this killer be suffered to undermine what Primus himself decreed when he created this planet and seeded all Cybertronians on it?"

Everywhere bots stopped their work to listen over the datanet. All around Cybertron, bots were putting down their tools to listen more closely to the words being broadcasted all over the planet. The only bots left working were the medical mechs and femmes working to save patients.

"The Guilds have overseen the prosperity of all Cybertronians, and created a framework within which any Cybertronian can find his role in our society. If every criminal malcontent is given the chance to upend what we have spent vorns working to maintain, then I fear for the future of our civilization. I fear for Cybertron itself."

A rumble of approval and discontent swept through the Council hearing chamber. Halogen gaveled the audience back into silence and pointed at Orion Pax.

"Here is another come to testify," he rumbled. "What say you, Orion Pax, clerk at the Hall of Records."

"I say first that Sigil makes no friends among the unhappy Cybertronians for he is as pompous as any Spark ever has been," Orion Pax said as he moved away from where he stood against the far wall. He was angry that Sigil would infer that anybot who was malcontent against the caste system was a criminal and he had decided that it would be useless to hide it.

Orion had developed a reputation for being level-headed and calm. With any luck his show of anger would register with the Council and bring home to them the degree of the issue they were discussing. How much many Cybertronians sympathized with the growing anti-caste movement, even if they didn't necessarily agree with the methods.

Orion moved toward the center area, moving through the crowd parting to allow him passage. He could see several subtle looks of encouragement as well as looks of hate and disgust. He spoke as he walked.

"You claim for the Guilds the power to determine the lives of every Cybertronian," he said. "Is this what the Thirteen would've wanted? Is it any coincidence that as the Guilds rose in power and the castes became entrenched, Cybertron lost contact with the rest of the worlds where our kind dwell? As you confine each Cybertronian into a smaller and smaller space, with less and less room to go and see and do what he might want, you create a world in which no bot knows how to look beyond anymore. No bot knows how to imagine."

"I can imagine an end to this session," Ratbat called out.

Laughter boomed throughout the chamber. Orion looked around the audience, fearing he may have lost their good will. That's when he noticed a mech who seemed to stand out from the rest of the crowd while at the same time blending in. The mech was all black and he stood well above most of those around him, and he carried the confidence of a mech who had strong morals. As Orion looked at him, the mech nodded, encouragement clear in his optics. Orion's optics moved slightly to the Seeker beside him, who was grinning in anticipation of whatever he might say next. Her optics sparkled with admiration and there was something oddly familiar about her face.

Orion turned back to the Council. He had considered the possibility of giving a speech. He had even given thought as to what he might say. But now that the moment had come, he found he didn't know where to start. He decided to start simply.

"Fellow Cybertronians, members of the Council, hear me. Megatron speaks harshly, but true. He has seen the truth of life for many Cybertronians whose lives are all too often invisible, and if he is angry, it is anger born of love for an ideal and Spark-deep pain at our failure of that ideal.

"The recent attacks were savage and inexcusable. Yet, they were only symptoms. The unrest spreading across Cybertron will not stop with these attacks because it is the natural expression of a people who for too long have been held in check, their potential forever unrealized because of the false constraints of caste and Guild.

"It is natural for a being born with Spark to know that it should be free. And it is natural that Cybertronians, who are born to change from one form to another, should want to be able to change their roles within Cybertronian society as a whole. If castes and Guilds fight change, they fight our own nature—and the nature of Cybertron itself. The absence of change is not stability. It is entropy. Only dead things stay the same.

"No Cybertronian is simply the mechanical sum of his parts. From the smallest Minicon to the mightiest combiner, from the simplest data processor to the scientists who teach us the laws of the universe, each of us contains a living Spark that makes us who we are, not simply what we are. The Spark within us awakens us to the possibility of freedom. It makes us alive to the idea that we might choose what we shall become—as each of you did, Councilors. Why should we not? One bot's freedom can never be given or taken away by another. This goes against the very nature of the Spark, the very nature of Cybertron itself.

"In the past, in times of great need, noble Cybertronians rose to become Prime and lead our civilization out of crisis. Most recently, Sentinel Prime—once one of this chamber's honorable Elite Guard—united all Cybertronians against a dire threat. High Councilors fought alongside smelters and data clerks then, to drive off an invader. What did this invader want? To enslave us, to turn us into their property. To deprive us of our fundamental Spark-given right to self-determination. Have we driven the Quintessons off only to enslave ourselves by caste and Guild? And will we crush this new movement toward freedom, to sacrifice freedom for order? I say no. Order achieved through force can never be a true peace. There can be no peace through tyranny.

"The time has come for all Cybertronians to be united again, and I say we need a new Prime to unite us. We do not need a Prime who moves us as if we were parts of a great machine, who demands that we be drones and slaves as the price of a peace that is only stasis. The Guildmasters and Keepers of the Caste do that more than adequately, and look where they have gotten us. Cybertron needs a leader of the free, a Prime who recognizes that all Cybertronians are autonomous robots, owned by no one but themselves, master of their own fates.

"I will say it again. Autonomous robots!

"We will remember this moment, in this Council Chamber, as the moment where free robots broke the welds of oppression that had taken the beauty of the Spark away from us. We are all autonomous robots today—Autobots, if we need a name to rally around—and we Autobots declare that a Spark once freed will never again stand to be oppressed.

"You must choose a new Prime today. Choose well, for a Prime might either lead Cybertron to a new golden era in our history, or stand by as the dark energies of anger and resentment explode into planet-wide chaos and war.

"Members of the Council, the choice is yours. I wish you wisdom."

He knew he had spoken well, because the chamber was silent when he finished. Even those he knew to be his enemies were forced to consider his words. The knowledge of this overcame him in the nanokliks following his last sentence.

Orion Pax raised both arms, fists clenched, and thundered, "For Cybertron! Autobots!"

Over the pounding of Halogen's gavel, the crowd erupted. "AUTOBOTS!"

It started high up in the gallery, beyond where Megatron's oldest and most loyal followers were clustered. Then it spread throughout the rest of the gallery. On the ground floor, Ariel smiled, feeling her Spark warm and stood amazed at how Orion had the power to move so many with mere words. Jazz stood next to her, a big grin on his faceplate as he lifted both his fists and joined in the cheering. That was his best friend and he was proud to say so.

Across the way, Chromia was also joining in, though only lifted one fist so as not to knock her organic friend off her shoulder. Mina herself felt proud of the way he had spoken, for she knew he had spoken from his Spark rather than what he thought the Council might want to hear.

That's my OP, Mina thought to herself. She felt proud of the mech who had become like a guardian angel to her. She was happy for him beyond what she would be able to express in merely joining the crowd. She was slightly distracted for a moment as she caught sight of the same black mech Orion had seen, one who stood like a soldier. She blinked, seeing the same symbol she had seen the previous day on a blue seeker—the very one next to him if she had looked. She also noticed that there was approval in his optics, though he did not join the crowd in cheering, he just watched, silently and warily observing both the events below, and the Decepticons in the seats.

She turned her attention to the Councilors as the cheers died down and Halogen began to speak once more, putting aside her curiosity.

"There is more to this scenario than whether you, Orion Pax, and you, Megatron, will call your followers Autobots or Decepticons," Halogen said after a full ten kliks of trying to bring the chamber into something resembling silence. "Your actions thus far have set this planet on a course of war. Megatron," he leveled his gavel at the gladiator, "it matters not whether you told your Decepticons to abduct Sentinel Prime or not. What matters is that your Decepticons abducted Sentinel Prime and you have done nothing to rectify it. And Orion Pax, it does not matter whether you and Megatron have disagreed over methods or philosophy, because your actions have contributed as much to the current crisis as his has."

This stung, but Orion Pax knew he must accept it. Humility comes before greatness, it said somewhere in the Covenant, and where humility has not paved the road, greatness may not walk it.

"Yes, Councilor," he said humbly.

This seemed to satisfy Halogen—more, at any rate, than Megatron's haughty silence had. "The question of freedom has lain dormant for far too long. We, this Council, must accept our share of the blame for this. I stand before you, citizens of Cybertron, and I express my regret for my failure to see and acknowledge the pent-up anger caused by the perpetuation of the caste system."

"Councilor," Ratbat interjected. Four other Councilors echoed him, Contrail among them. Ratbat went on. "Surely you do not wish to upend the caste system that is serving us so well and stably right now."

"What you fail to understand Ratbat," Halogen said, levelling the small councilor with a look. "...is that the upending of the caste system has already taken place. It happened with the detonations at Six Lasers and the Sonic Canyons and the other places where innocents lost their lives at the servos of zealots. And it happened at Altihex Casino, where our leader—our detatched, disaffected, disinterested leader—vanished with apparently no fight whatsoever."

This drew a roar and tumult of disapproval. "It is time to see what is before us!" Halogen cried out above the other Councilors. "We have been willfully blind for far too long."

Orion Pax and Megatron stood together, listening. They glanced at each other and Orion could see anger in Megatron's face. But he could also see that at this time he still viewed him as an ally, both fighting for the same end. Whatever the Council said, the movement would continue. But in what way would be determined by who the citizens would follow.

And the Council said that they had already won.

"Without leadership, our civilization will surely crumble," Halogen went on. "This High Council, with its thirteen competing voices, may deliberate and consult, but in the end a single individual must make decisions. Sentinel Prime would have done it, but he is…"

"We do not know where Sentinel Prime is," Sigil stated matter-of-factly, causing murmuring and loud discussions to burst from the gallery.

No, Orion Pax was thinking. We do not. And it may be that we do not find him until long after all of this is settled. We cannot count on anything. No existing structure can handle the problems we have raised. He realized this with a heavy Spark, but accepted it, for he could not ignore it.

He glanced over at Megatron, and could tell from his face that they had reached the same conclusions—but had very different reactions to it. Megatron looked as if he could gleefully have presided over the permanent and total destruction of every institute of Cybertronian civilization. Orion Pax wanted to be free. But if there were no Cybertron, no Iacon or Hydrax or Sonic Canyons….then what good would freedom do?

Halogen observed these differences in the two mechs' postures and expressions. He hummed in thought before speaking again.

"Silence!" he commanded of the gallery. "This is not the time for commentary from the gallery. The High Council speaks here, and will speak until it is done." He paused, recovering his temper. "In the absence of Sentinel Prime, we must take collective steps where we would prefer to have individual initiative."

"What are you getting at?" Megatron called out. "If these times are so dire, they do not permit for elaborate speeches. Let us hear what you have to say plainly and directly."

Halogen stared at him in a silent fury of affront. In that gaze Orion Pax could see everything that was wrong with Cybertron, everything that his awakening made him want to change. Who cared about the protocols of the High Council, about Halogen's sense of decorum, about the grand theater of waving gavels and shouted dissents from the gallery? None of that was real. None of it mattered.

Because somewhere on Cybertron….a nameless living being was dying.

"Then I will speak as plainly and as directly as I may," Halogen said.

Megatron started to speak again, but Orion Pax reached over to put a servo on his shoulder. "Let's hear what they have to say," he said quietly. After a tense moment, Megatron relaxed.

"There have been attempts to find the Matrix of Leadership," Ratbat said. "We suspect that elements of these Decepticons are responsible."

"What seems at least as likely is that any band of malcontents claiming the name Decepticon can be linked to these searches," Contrail added. "How are we to know the truth about what Megatron himself, or Orion Pax for that matter, might be planning?"

"Orion Pax has disavowed the name Decepticon," Halogen pointed out.

"Who then is mobilizing spies to dig through old ruins and sneak past security in Crystal City?" The voice came from the gallery. No one could tell immediately who had called out, but Orion recognized the voice. It was Megatron's spymaster, Soundwave.

That's what is happening here, Orion realized with only a small bit of surprise. They are maneuvering me into a position and waiting for me to occupy it. He would have to remember not to turn his back on Soundwave.

"The Matrix of Leadership, more than any other remnant of the Age of the Primes, defines Cybertronian society by marking the leader of the Cybertronians, irrevocably and irreversibly." Halogen stood a little off to the side of his podium, allowing the entire gallery to see him in full instead of as a head-and-shoulders bust behind a piece of furniture. "But the Matrix does not grant itself to whoever might find it. On the contrary, it has a tendency to discover those who have the innate qualities necessary to claim it."

"And none of the searchers thus far have found it. Which means," Ratbat added, "that it has not permitted itself yet to be found."

It was unlike Ratbat to mention mythology, or anything more far-reaching than the events of the next megacycle. What was he doing suddenly seconding Halogen's excursion into the nature of the Matrix of Leadership? Orion Pax was suspicious. He saw that Megatron looked equally perplexed as to what was going on.

Unaware of what anyone in the chamber thought, Halogen pressed forward. "This body, the High Council of Cybertron, has realized that events in our cities are spiraling out of control. Part of this is due to a lack of Leadership. But, as we have explained, the Matrix will not reveal itself to just anyone."

Contrail stepped forward to stand at Halogen's shoulder. "There is a way forward. We have consulted with the Archivist of the Hall of Records and he has revealed to us some things that we did not know."

"Get on with it," Megatron growled impatiently where only Orion could hear him.

Halogen regained control. "The Matrix of Leadership is on Cybertron though it has not been seen in these billions of orbital-cycles. According to the Archivist, Alpha Trion, it may be found in these troubling times, and if found will lead all Cybertronians through to a new age on the other side." He leveled his gavel at Megatron and Orion Pax.

"Yes," Megatron whispered, his arrogant mind determining that he was being given the task of finding it, while Orion found himself unworthy.

And then Halogen spoke. "Orion Pax, upon you we place the quest for the Matrix of Leadership."

Silence fell, so absolute that Orion Pax only then realized how much ambient noise there was in a room full of Cybertronians unless they stood absolutely still. It was as if the High Council and its Chamber and everyone within had suspended every function, frozen themselves in space and time, as the implications of the High Councilor's words became clear.

"Excuse me?" Orion asked in perplexion. He stood even more shocked as the High Councilors, as one, set their gavels down and saluted him. He wanted to say no, to argue with the decision, but he couldn't.

"The Matrix of Leadership is yours to find, because from this moment forward," Halogen said in a voice that filled the chamber even over the astonished outbursts of the gallery, "you are Optimus Prime. Unite Cybertron and all of Cybertronians. Usher in the new era you have spoken of so eloquently."

There was a pause before the chamber erupted with reactions. Scandalized shouts from the Guildmasters, who could not believe the Council would thrust this responsibility on an unknown data clerk. Robust cheering from Orion Pax's fellow data clerks and his friends, even Mina did not see to keep herself from cheering, causing a few to look at this odd being. An avalanche of venom from Megatron's followers, who had come to see Megatron become Leader of all Cybertronians.

Orion Pax merely stood in stunned silence. Optimus Prime? What right did he have to be called Prime and seek the Matrix? But what right did he have to refuse?

Halogen gaveled for order and motioned Optimus Prime forward. "In time of great need," he said over the slowly diminishing tumult, "Cybertron turns to those in whom the spark of greatness truly blazes. Optimus Prime, you must see us through these turbulent times."

Optimus Prime stepped forward, approaching the witness podium. He paused when he reached it, painfully aware of the scrutiny he was under. "But," he finally said after a few moments in as level a tone as he could, "I am not worthy of this."

"A fine display of humility," Megatron muttered from his side. A mutter meant only for Optimus Prime, who looked at him in shock. He had not noticed that Megatron had followed him.

"A fine display of humility!" Megatron repeated, louder this time. He turned, playing to the gallery. "My friend Orion Pax came here saying that he wanted to play peacemaker, that he did not want isolated acts of violence to escalate to civil war! He asked me to come under the banner of friendship and trust. He brought all of us here flying the false flag of reconciliation! When what he really pursued was power!"

Thunderous reaction greeted Megatron's last shout, his supporters standing in massed ranks at the front of the balconies and the partisans of Optimus Prime rallying to points opposite Megatron's followers on the upper balconies and down on the viewing floor.

Optimus Prime pivoted around and raised both his arms for quiet, instinctively, not expecting it to work and was astonished when it did. "I did not want this," he said in as sincere a tone as anybot could have. "I still do not want it. If I had my preference, another would stand as Prime today and I would remain a data clerk.

"But I believe in Cybertron. I believe the history that I read as a clerk. I believe the stories that say that when Cybertron needs someone, someone will be found. And that someone will light Cybertron's darkest hour.

"I do not know if I am that someone. But I respect the High Council, and I respect our traditions, and if they say I am...I will try to fulfill the role expected of me and make the changes required for us all to be free."

He lowered his arms and looked around the chamber. Then he looked at Megatron. "Brother," he said. "You believe me, don't you?"

"Optimus Prime," Megatron said. A long moment stretched out as under Megatron's gaze Optimus felt like Orion Pax again, just a clerk who had gotten in over his helm.

Then Megatron dropped his gaze and said, "It doesn't matter whether I believe you now, brother. I believed you before. We started this journey together and we will finish it together. If the High Council views you as the next Prime, that is their prerogative."

Optimus Prime, for a moment, believed that Megatron would move beyond his shock and they could be partners in bringing about a new age. But then Megatron spoke again, his tone mocking.

"Optimus Prime!" Megatron called out to the gallery. "Does it not have the ring of leadership? Of heroism? Does Cybertron not call out in its hour of need and find….a data clerk?"

"Brother…" Optimus started.

"Brother no more!" Megatron thundered. Then, to the High Council, he went on. "This is the last in a long line of injustices that provoked us to take up arms. We do not yield to your castes and Guilds or to your militia so you appoint a new autocrat as a new Prime. A new leader to keep you safely behind podiums and keep Cybertron safe for the Guildmasters and caste overseers to rule over the lower castes down in the pits!" Pointing up into the balconies, he roared, "Will you stay in the pits?!"

NO! A cry called out by Megatron's followers as those who believed in Optimus couldn't believe what they were hearing.

"Will you fall in line behind this Optimus Prime? This creature of the High Council who would keep you there?"

NO!

"You see, brother?" Megatron asked, spitting the last word like venom. "They do not want your control. They want to be free."

"I do not wish to control them," Optimus said, standing firmly. "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. That is my firmly held belief."

"Lies!" Megatron roared, his face contorted in anger.

"No!" Optimus Prime roared over the echo from the balconies. "I do not want to lead, but I will if I must. And if you would break away from all the laws and traditions of Cybertron, even those which do not require change, then lead I must. I would rather work with you, brother, and change what we both know needs changing. This is not the way to do it."

"You do not tell me what is the way," Megatron said coldly. "I found the way when you were still a drone filtering data. What you know, you learned from me and what you will know you will learn from me. The High Council calls you Prime? I defy them! I lead the Decepticons of Cybertron, and I fight for the freedom of all Cybertronians!"

Halogen's voice cut through the building rumble of discontent. "You will yield!" the High Councilor said. "This is not your bully pulpit, Megatron. You will not deform this chamber with your posturing."

"And this is no longer your chamber, Halogen," Megatron returned. "Must you not defer to Optimus Prime, whom you have appointed leader? Well, I refuse to acknowledge him as my leader—and I defy you! You have betrayed the ideals you proclaim!"

Rounding on Optimus Prime, Megatron added, "And you, brother. You have betrayed the ideals you professed to me from the first. I should have known."

"You will not speak to the Prime that way," Halogen began, intending to defend the newly appointed leader, who had not yet been given the chance to prove himself, but he never got to finish. Megatron finally lost his patience and pulled from his subspace, arm in mid-arc, revealing the muzzle of his fusion cannon and blowing Halogen's podium into a hail of shrapnel.

There was a stunned pause in the chamber. Such a weapon had never been seen before by the majority of bots present.

Then several things happened at once. The Elite Guard appeared from every corner of the chamber, Chromia the only member not among them due to Mina's presence on her shoulder and the possibility of her getting hurt, and locked in a perimeter around the Council dias on which the podiums stood—six on either side of the hole where Halogen's once stood. Ratbat scampered onto Contrail's shoulder. Megatron's soldiers readied their weapons for a fusillade from the balconies. On the floor, Autobot-sympathizing Cybertronians snapped to readiness, suddenly bristling with missiles, cannon barrels, and hand weapons that flickered and hissed with latent energies.

Shadowstreaker remained standing in the same spot he had been in since the beginning of the meeting, unmoved by the tense standoff. He was, however, just as on edge as everyone else, silently wondering if he would have been able to take Megatron out if this meeting had gone differently than what he was told. His optics took in everything going on around him, still observing the happenings of this day, and what it would all come down to. Stormbreaker moved only to greet their sister, who slid over to them, using the moving crowd to her advantage to reach them. The two femmes whispered among themselves briefly.

"Stop!" Optimus Prime commanded.

If every armed bot in the chamber let go at once the building would collapse. The collapse would take out a good amount of the bots inside, many of which were important to see Cybertron through the coming war. He remembered too well Chromia's report of their meeting with Starscream. And whatever his intentions, his ideals, he was not going to be able to prevent Megatron from going his own way.

And taking his followers with him. By force if necessary.

Optimus Prime stepped between Megatron and the focused firepower of the Elite Guard. "You will not fire at him," he said. "Not in the Council Chamber. If I am Prime, and I command this, you must obey."

After a pause, the Guard lowered their weapons.

"Well done, Prime," Megatron said behind him. The scorn in his voice rankled Optimus, but he did not respond to it. "And what if I told my gladiators to fire on you?" he pressed. "Do you believe they would hesitate because you are Prime?"

"I believe any Cybertronian must believe in the ideals of Cybertron," Optimus Prime answered without looking back. "If I must be destroyed because I believe in those ideals, then so be it."

Another silence, briefer than the last but equally tense. At the edges of the balconies, the weapons of the gladiator corps bristled like a sensory array on the planet-side facet of an orbital station. Another array of barrels and antennae spread around the perimeter of the Council dias. The third, from the Autobots, primarily answered the focus of the Decepticons, but some of them aimed their weapons past Optimus Prime, toward the Elite Guard.

A standoff. Optimus Prime felt a deep foreboding that it would not be the last. He waited, not looking back at Megatron.

"Decepticons," Megatron called. "Stand down. For now."

As the Decepticons hid their weapons, Optimus Prime turned to Megatron. "I would value your advice and friendship," he said in one last attempt at turning from a path toward war.

"I would have valued yours as well, before your betrayal," Megatron replied. "But you have chosen." He took a step back and gave a signal to his Decepticons and Optimus realized there were a number more Decepticons than just the gladiators. "You see how many of us there are, just here? How many others do you think await you out in the Badlands, or in the subsurface levels? How ready are you to die?"

"I am ready to do what needs to be done. No matter how many Decepticons you drag up from the pits," Optimus Prime replied, letting his anger get the better of him.

"And no matter how many Autobots you haul out of the libraries and the art galleries," Megatron said, his voice cold with fury, "my Decepticons will meet you. You have the backing of the Council, but we will see who claims the Matrix in the end."

With that, he assumed alt form, followed by every Decepticon in the chamber. Those that were wheeled or tracked tore through the back wall of the Council Chamber, leaving the wall collapsed behind them and the two bottom balconies hanging at an angle. Winged Decepticons flew out of the hole left behind, followed shortly by Megatron himself. With them, Optimus noted, were Contrail and Ratbat.

Optimus Prime watched them go, heavy thoughts on his processor. Megatron had committed himself. There was no going back now.

Optimus was about to turn to speak with Halogen about where he might begin his search when his optics landed on the trio of fliers still in the stands. Very few fliers had remained, so they stood out, especially since they had not moved when everyone else had—like they were avoiding getting caught up in the events. They were speaking quietly, wings moving only minutely, making it hard to read what they could possibly be talking about or how they felt. The shortest one, a mostly purple femme he had not noticed prior, glanced his way and his optics met an orange visor. Her expression gave nothing away, but after a brief moment, she bowed her helm to him and dipped her wings in respect. He did not know who these fliers were, but he got the sense that he had their support.

He watched as she turned back to her companions and said something to them. He wondered what it was.

"Optimus," a voice brought his attention away from the fliers and by the time he glanced back, they were gone.