?Rated: M for adult themes: language, violence, mental rape, character death, mech erotica, torture, gore, and suicidal ideation. This varies from chapter to chapter, so read at your own risk.

Important Note: I started this series of fics before Revenge of the Fallen hit the theaters. This is an AU 2007 movie verse fic, NOT a ROTF/DOTM/AE/LK/BB fic.

Disclaimer: The only thing I own in this work of complete fiction is Velocity/Sira and Hardcore. They are mine. Everything else is copy righted and owned by some really rich people. I make no money from this, but wish I could.

XxxX

Home

XxxX

Ironhide tore across the Nevada desert, his altform perfectly suited to chewing up the rugged terrain with ease. In the predawn hours, his rapid passing kicked great plumes of dust and dirt into the dark sky, blotting out the stars. Near panic, he only wanted to find Velocity. He didn't know if she left the base of her own will, persuaded by lies and half-truths or by force, a captive to destroy the Autobots. Whatever the situation, Optimus needed her safe.

Sliding to a stop at the edge of the Autobots' allotted territory, the ancient warrior immediately scanned as far as his sensors could reach—no signs of Cybertronian life. The pale, dry dust settled on him as curses from a dozen languages snarled through his vocals.

Ironhide had considered bringing Hound with him. An extra set of hands and guns might be useful, but he decided against it. Even if Velocity remained unharmed, he intended to vengefully extract information from the 'Con, then bury the scraps in the desert. A witness might slow that process with moral objections.

Continuing along the coordinates Hound gave him, Ironhide found one of the many gullies carved into the hard ground by flash floods. He didn't slow. Skidding, he approached the washout at an angle, down one side, across the middle, and up the other side. Airborne, he exploded over the other side and didn't slow as his tires slammed back to earth.

Leaving the dead riverbed behind, the weapons specialist speed towards a rise stretching the horizon. He hoped to spot Velocity from the higher vantage point. The further he traveled in the desert, the more futile his search. While the security grid showed where the duo left, he had no way to know if Velocity and Hardcore stayed on a straight path or veered a different direction. He only had guesses and a few cursed prayers to Primus to guide his search.

He raced up the incline and stopped just below the crest, there he transformed. Laying on his front to keep low to avoid potential unfriendly fire, he peeked over the rise. The night sky lightened to a velvety purple, promising a clear morning and showed him what lay ahead. The landscape didn't offer the wide-open hardpans and unobstructed views. Here erosion created a debris field. Geologic processes folded and rippled the land into escarpments and ravines, a jagged jumble of dismantled mountains, all dotted with sharp bounders thrown about like discarded shell casings. They could be anywhere within the natural maze ripe with secret hides and ambush points.

"Slag me," he hissed to himself and powered up his weapons.

Standing, he scanned the immediate area. Cautiously, waiting to be fired upon, he slid down the embankment sending shale and rock tumbling before him. A location ping echoed through his audios. Hope and excitement flutter within his spark, but he held it in check. Landing on solid rock, he focused. Searching the darkness, he assessed the shadowy landscape and picking a path. Even though the missing femme exposed her location to him, he kept his weapons drawn and ready.

He hurried. Running between boulders and traversing arroyos, he barely paused. Worry for the femme fueled his haste. He took advantage of enemy assault and barreled headlong towards his goal, knowing could be entering a trap.

Cresting a bluff, he searched for Velocity. Her ping led him to this spot. Ironhide's engines growled in frustration, and hot anger steamed along his circuits.

"Down here." Soft words he almost didn't register in his irritation.

Looking down, he noticed wind and time had carved to softer dirt beneath the capstone he stood on, creating an overhang. The femme sat beneath this rocky canopy, only histers away and barely noticeable. In the shadows of near morning, bright red took on the hue of dried human blood and blended into the desert. A quick scan told him they were alone.

Ironhide carefully picked his way down the incline. He ducked to peer under the ledge. Velocity appeared uninjured but didn't acknowledge him; her optics focused on the far horizon. The need to simultaneously hug her from relief and shake some sense into her nearly overpowered him.

Slipping on a loose rock, Ironhide dropped all pretenses and snarled, "Are you injured? Where is Hardcore? What in the name of Primus's Bearings are you doing? Do you have any idea how dangerous and stupid this is? You could have been hurt, that pit-spawn could have injured or terminated you? What would that do to Optimus?"

Velocity calmly turned and looked at him. Green optics glowed steadily in the near-dawn, observing and measuring him. Something behind the emerald shine shifted, hardening. She resumed staring into nowhere and patted the stones next to her, an invitation.

Ironhide nearly imploded at her banality, and it took several blinks of optic shutters to override his battle programs.

"Sit with me," the femme quietly offered.

The mech didn't want to sit; he wanted to snatch the femme up and return her to base. He wanted to find the Decepticon and take his frustrations out on that silver paint job. He had enough and reached for her.

Velocity's helm snapped around. She glared silently, daring him to touch her. Her electrical field bit at his before she pulled it back. They both cycled their vents, and she resumed gazing at the distance.

"Sit. Please," Velocity whispered.

Pulling his hand back, the old mech decided to humor the femme. He scrambled his way to her, surprised to find more than enough room for both of them under the ledge. Finally settling his aft, and dangling his legs over the ledge. From this vantage, the desert turned from rocks and dirt to an impressive vista. In the blue-purple light, impenetrable shadows cut across bands of blood reds, deep purples, golds, and greens. Geometric shapes of lines, curves, and angles blended oddly with cactus and scrub plants.

Her movement startled him and he found the pilfered weapon offered. "Here. I don't need this anymore," she whispered without looking at him.

Taking the much too powerful blaster from her, he checked it over. A little dusty, but in working order and unfired. "Where's the 'Con?" Ironhide didn't see any need to segue gently into questions.

"Gone," came the soft reply.

Ironhide studied the feme's features. Placid and empty. She seemed empty, nearly devoid of emotions. Even her electrical field felt neutral. He pushed his inquiry.

"Whacha mean gone? Like terminated or just wandered off?"

Her optics never left the view before her. "Just wandered off."

That was not the answer he expected. Had he any credits to spend, he would have bet she terminated the bastard and was taking a break before returning to base.

"So you didn't terminate him?" he drew the words out, trying to make sense of her actions.

Velocity pulled a knee to her chest and wrapped her arms around her leg. Deeply cycling her vents and slowly blinked before answering him, "No."

Twisting to face her, Ironhide gestured to the great expanse around them. "Are you fucking serious? You just set a 'Con lose on your planet! Is there a short in your processor?" he bellowed.

The femme flinched at his tone. The emerald glow of her optics darkened, and facial plates pinched together in anger. "Hardcore is persona non grata with the Decepticons. The government has him listed as a known enemy. He is barely functioning, weaponless, friendless, and stuck on a hostile world without resources. How long do you think he will last?" She turned her head to look at him, hatred pulsed deeply from her core and washed through her electrical field. "I chased him off to protect my family, the ones I love. He couldn't stay at the base, he knows too much. I wanted to kill him. I really did. I just couldn't pull the trigger." The cold hate fell away and her posture relaxed. She returned staring off in the distance, her focus beyond the black mountains crouching underneath the pink sky.

"Velocity," the old mech started then let his words fall away. He didn't know what to say, so he chose the path he understood the best. "Protecting Optimus while he healed was our priority. You shouldn't risk yourself like this."

Releasing the grip on her leg, Velocity reached down and flicked an errant stone off the ledge. It's bouncing decent echoed in the still air. "I'm not talking about Optimus. I'm talking about you." She turned and looked him in the optic. "You are my family, Optimus is – something else."

Her words pierced deep within his spark, threatening to crumble his gruff façade. His vocal modulators glitched during his first attempt to respond.

Eventually, he gained control of himself. He narrowed his optic shutters at her, "What makes you think you are protecting me? I can protect myself." He slapped the formidable cannons on his arms, incase she forgot they existed.

A small smile tilted one corner of her facial features, the first he had seen since her return. But this wasn't a gesture of humor at his joke. Something alien and calculating slid behind her optics. She tipped her head to the side, "I know you can protect yourself, but can you protect your bond mate?" The smile vanished.

Her words tore away his façade. A rage of contradicting emotions all fought for supremacy within his frame. He wanted to stand and stomp the entire way to base. He wanted to ignore her words. He wanted to shove her off the ledge for her audacity. He wanted to hold her tight. He wanted to rage and whisper confessions at the same time. He only stared at her.

The first rays of day peaked over the distant mountains. They washed across Velocity, setting her red and copper armor alight. To Ironhide, she appeared forged from the furnace of a star. A creature like nothing else in the cosmos.

Finally, his emotions calmed, and he found his vocals. He chose the words worn and familiar with repetition "My mate died long ago."

"You are lying." The words lacked malice or accusation, stated as a simple fact.

"Oh, really?" he hissed, "What makes you think you know so much? I know the truth, and I lived it. Now, you're trying to tell me I am wrong." He punctuated his words with a threatening push of his electrical field against hers.

Her expression didn't change. She ignored his challenge and continued staring off in the distance. She pulled her other leg to her chest and hugged herself. "I touched you once. Do you remember? You had me pinned and I wanted you off. I pushed myself past your electrical field, past your metal and brushed against your spark. I touched the true you."

"I remember", Ironhide stated softly. Unease trickled along his circuits; he didn't like this turn in the conversation. "It hurt like the pit. I thought my spark chamber was going to explode."

"I wanted it to hurt, and I wouldn't do that to you." Velocity reached down and flicked another stone off the ledge. Again, she wrapped her arm around her legs. Laying her cheek on her knees, she shuttered her optics, and began softly speaking. "It is like that but different when Optimus and I - share. He continually mourns the loss of Elita. I can feel the gaping holes and wounds in his spark. The need for what he had and should still have. He is broken, shattered. He will never be healed or whole, and there is nothing in this universe to fix him."

"Velocity, he loves you!"

Her optic shutters opened, and she raised a hand against his rebuttal. "Optimus cares about me. He enjoys my company. He wants me with him, but he does not love me the way he loves Elita. That is not the point."

She cycled deeply. "The point is, I can feel his loss every time we bond. Every time I touch his spark it is there. The point is, when I touched your spark, I found it intact, whole and undamaged. Tired, worn, lonesome, but intact."

Deep within Ironhide something constricted. He found it hard to cycle his vents, to focus clearly on the femme next to him. The pain. The unfairness. He wanted her to stop talking. The fear of what she might say. The mech stared at the morning sun. His frame shook slightly. Had this been anyone else he would have blown a hole through their chest and walked away. Perversely, he wanted her to continue. He wanted to hear what she would say, as much as it would hurt.

"All this time," she continued, "I thought Optimus weak. I thought he refused to let go of the past. I thought I wasn't enough to help him heal his spark.

"I was wrong. So very wrong. Noting will heal him from losing Elita. When she died, she literally took part of him with her. He cannot heal, he has lost part of himself. I was wrong and unfair to him. I compared him to you, thinking if you could heal from the loss, so could he. It took Hardcore to make me realize I knew the truth, I just had to assemble all of the pieces of the puzzle."

He couldn't move. Her words froze him to the rocks. His processor whirled with the implications. So much unspoken, yet he understood the meandering path of her explanation. With so much at stake, he didn't want to believe her, but he had to hear it. "What does Hardcore have to do with any of this?"

The fiery femme straightened and slowly stretched her legs out. Relaxing, she dangled her peds over the ledge and traced a finger along the still visible marks where a binding cable dug into her paint. All expression vanished from her face, and her words came without inflection or emotion. "He claimed to have seen femmes on Cybertron. He knows they still exist and spent considerable effort to extract information I didn't have."

"You should have terminated him. Right there, in his cell, ya should have pulled the trigger," Ironhide stated bluntly.

Velocity's shoulders drooped and her head hung. Embarrassed shame radiated from her. "I wanted to, but I just couldn't. I couldn't kill him like that."

Reaching out, Ironhide laid a hand on her shoulder. "It's 'cause you aren't a murderer. Don't ever become one, it takes something from you. It makes you less." He spoke from experience. He didn't want war to do to her what it did to him.

They sat in silence for several breem. Both lost in their thoughts as they watched the sun climb over the mountains and creep up the sky.

Finally, the femme spoke. "I am correct, aren't I? Your mate still lives?"

Ironhide slid his arm around the slender femme and pulled her to him. He held her in one arm, pressed against his side. Immediately, he wanted to lie to her, but he stopped his usual retorts. She needed to understand, and he found he wanted to share his story. He wanted to talk about to Chromia.

His words came slowly, his processor sorting through a millennium of memories. "The femmes served Optimus and the Autobot cause during the war. Well, most of them did anyways. A few remained neutral and a small group joined with the Decepticons.

"Anyways, their skills and knowledge became the foundation of our tactics, and many were promoted to Generals or formed hit squads to precisely remove threats without collateral damage. The femmes ran supply routes and worked to secure needed resources. Frag, without them, Megatron would have won long ago. None of us understood the brutality of war, but they did. They understood surviving on the edge and fighting to live."

He glanced at Velocity, her optics a steady shine as she listened.

The old mech continued, "The femmes kept their own bailiwick and safe places. Optimus wanted them to join the main Autobot force in Iacon, but old ways die hard.

"This segregation occurred long before the war. While femmes lived among the mechs, they kept to themselves – mostly. They were not viewed as part of the society at large, a small, unimportant, influential group."

Underneath his arm, Velocity stiffened. He held her closer and continued. "Before the war, Optimus wanted to erase this division. I'm sure being bonded to a femme had a lot to do with it. Chromia and I dealt with short-sighted nonsense in our own way.

"Anyways, the femmes never relocated to the safety of Iacon's walls. Long into the war a defector, named Jetfire, tried to gain clemency with information about a 'Con plan to raid and eliminate the femme stronghold. I could never figure out how they found the location, but it didn't matter.

"By the time we received and relayed the information, it was almost too late. The Deceptions were already at the femme base. The femmes couldn't retreat in mass and the 'Cons had them cornered and pinned down. We mobilized as fast as we could, but the 'Cons had prepared for that too and we had a small force to fight too. Megatron wanted the femmes gone, annihilated, so he sent a group to attack us. A sacrifice to create interference and stall our response. It worked, even if all the 'Cons who attacked us joined the Matrix.

"The Decepticon plan worked. That day Cybertron learned about genocide, even if we didn't have a word for it. The majority of the Autobot femmes were terminated, only a small number survived. Most of them went into deep hiding. Not even Optimus knew of their existence. For my part, I helped hide the survivors. Chromia and I retrieved the sparkless frames and identify them."

His vocals warbled with memories. Long corridors awash in energon. Blaster mark streaking along walls. Deep gouges where blade hacked through frames and into the floor below. An arm here. A torso there. The brutality and violence of the attack still haunted him. The Decepticons didn't just try to remove the femmes from Cybertron, they hated the femmes and unleased the most vile and agonizing vengeance upon them. That day he lost friends and Chromia lost her sisters.

He pulled back to the present, back to a rocky little planet covered with water and life. "I verified the death records, even for those femmes in hiding. Then, I made sure the Decepticons would intercept the transmissions. Over a thousand femmes and their progeny died, and I lied to protect the rest. I lied to Optimus. I lied to the Autobot council. I lied to everyone to protect a few dozen survivors."

Velocity looked up at him. "You did what you had to do."

"The lying didn't bother me, still doesn't, it's just what happened. After all this happened, a lot of Autobots demanded vengeance, their sparks cried for justice that they never offered the femmes before." He ground his dental plates, the hypocritical speeches and shouted demands given by mechs who never cared for the femmes before, and never cared about equality or justice. Th audacity of those mechs to be upset over the loss of those they never acknowledged before.

Anger laced deepened is words. "A group wanted to publicly execute Jetfire. They thought his information came just a little to conveniently. I didn't want to see us fall to Decepticon levels. I sent Mirage to free him and get him out of Iacon. The plan worked except Mirage was caught coming back into the citadel. Some smarter than average mechs put it together and accused him of treason, starting a whole different slagging shitstorm.

Ironhide released his hold around Velocity, but she didn't move away. He worked the stiffness out of the arm and slid it back around her shoulders. "I made sure Jazz ran the investigation on Mirage. Of course, they found him innocent of the accusations and dropped the charges of treason. All just one huge coverup, so we could focus on the more important parts of the war, killing each other."

Lacing her fingers, Velocity laid her hands in her lap. She stared silently into the valley, deep in thought. After half a breem she asked, "Mirage knows about the remaining femmes?"

The black mech sorted, "Primus, no. Only Jazz and I, not even Optimus. We can't trust Optimus to not try something heroic and save them." A smile tipped his facial plates, the Prime's need to help everyone was one of his better qualities.

"We orchestrated this whole coverup to give the remaining femmes a chance. If everyone thought them dead, no one would be looking for them. A handful of the femmes stayed with us, but their lives became even harder. Decepticons had high bounties on them, and some of those bounties were collected.

"For Chromia it became a nightmare. She made a name for herself in battle, carving up 'Cons with her matching swords. As the bondmate to Prime's advisor and friend, she couldn't be seen outside of the Citadel and some places within were dangerous too. Eventually she left and joined her sisters in hiding. She had to be terminated and I had to be the one to make sure she did. It took some work, but enough 'bots bought into it. I haven't seen her since, and probably never will." His vocals garbled saying the last words nearly destroyed him. He missed his other half so much it physically hurt at times. The sacrifices of war. He wanted her beside him, He would have given anything share this rock with her instead of Velocity. To watch an alien sunrise, cuddled together.

Ironhide shuttered his optics and muted his vocals against the pain and need. He struggled to tamp down the emotions swelling inside him. He knew he would be ending his day either shooting something or having a good frag. Without Chromia, target practice became his only option.

"None of the femmes remain with the Autobots?" Velocity's innocent question cut into him and pulled him back.

He opened his shutters to find her looking up at him, concern etched on her features and radiating from her optics. He hadn't noticed she pulled away from him slightly and laid a hand against his chest. He wrapped his own massive hand over hers and gently pulled it away. Only Chromia touched him there.

"A few stayed," he began, "but only for a while. Chromia, Arcee, Moonracer, Lifeline and a couple of others, but eventually they were either terminated or slipped away to be with their sisters.

"Velocity, the femmes of Cybertron view Optimus and the best and worst mechs have to offer. His bond with Elita brought to light the prejudices and injustices built within Cybertron's society. They weren't the only victims of exploitation; they were just more obvious.

"Optimus championed the femmes, and this made them a target for his enemies, both political and during the war. They used his preference for femmes against us, against him. During the early days of his Primacy, political opponents used Elita to present Optimus as a degenerate or hedonist. He weathered the accusations, but naivety and lack of understanding how deep the hate went got Elita killed before open conflict ever started.

"This is the worse mechs have to offer the femmes. Cold murder for simply existing and wanting to be treated as equals. I doubt the femmes will ever rejoin the Autobots, they may never rejoin Cybertron society, even after this fragging war has ended."

The red femme turned her gaze downward and sat in silence. Ironhide didn't bother her, he left her to her own thoughts. The sky had turned a pale blue and his old injuries ached. He needed to move, and they had spent much too long away from base. The here and now matter more than the past. He had a young femme to look after and help negotiate what was left of their war torn civilization.

"V, I need to get off my aft and you need to get back to base before Prowl has a literal meltdown." With stiff, slow movements he stood and Velocity followed him.

XxxX

Prowl meet them as the elevator dais settled to a stop. The SIC looked like he might have the surges at any breem.

Ironhide moved to step off the platform, but Velocity took the lead. She appeared relaxed, but the armor tightening around her frame and the too-bright shine of her optics hinted at her heightened state. The air buzzed with charged emotions.

"Where is the Decepticon?" demanded Prowl.

Velocity stopped and turned her helm towards the Tactician. "Gone," she responded dryly, her voice echoing around the near empty chamber.

Ironhide groaned to himself, this would not go well.

Stepping off the rise, Ironhide intended to physically buffer between Prowl and Velocity. He still didn't trust the femme's mercurial mood. The quicker he scooted her back to medical and Optimus's side the better. "The 'Con is gone," he told Prowl, hoping that to be the end. "I need Ratchet to check out Velocity." He attempted to guide the femme out of the area.

"What do you mean 'gone'?" barked Prowl.

Velocity stopped and turned but remained quiet. Honestly, Ironhide didn't want her to say a thing. He wasn't ready for everyone to know his secrets. One wrongly phased comment and Prowl wouldn't rest until he figured it all out.

He remained close to Velocity, close enough to grab her if needed. Some distance separated them, but he didn't want the situation to escalate. "Prowl, the Decepticon is gone. He ain't coming back."

Behind him, Velocity calmly spoke. "I couldn't let him stay…"

A shimmer, a distortion of the light attracted Ironhide's attention. To his left something moved, something rippled the air.

"YOU couldn't let him stay?" Mirage sneered as he disengaged his cloaking shield.

Velocity's helm and attention snapped towards the unwanted intruder. Her optics narrowed, but otherwise she remained statue still.

"What gives you the right to make decisions about who is allowed to stay or not?" the noble mech sneered as he approached. "Hardcore asked for sanctuary. By our oldest laws, he is allowed safety until a formal tribunal decides his fate."

"Mirage," commanded Prowl, "stand down and leave. This doesn't involve you."

Ironhide glanced at the femme. She remained rigid, but her fingers curled and uncurled slowly, and her emerald hued optics darkened.

"You are not a tribunal. Or even worthy enough to sit on one."

Ironhide twisted and lunged for the femme, but his arms captured only empty air.

A red blur rushed Mirage. The arrogant mech attempted to step back, but his reactions weren't fast enough. Within an Earth second, Velocity closed the distance enough to shove the tip of her blade in the mechanics underneath Mirage's chin.

The world froze. No one moved, no one cycled their vents, no one dared. Mirage remained still, his optics wide with shock. Velocity poised to deliver a killing thrust.

"Bring it, bitch," snarled the red femme, and she pressed the blade a little deeper. "I'll do to you what I should have done to your friend." She spit the last word soaked with distain.

Mirage shuttered his optics. Small tremors twitched along his hands.

Ironhide held his hands up, and slowly side stepped into Velocity's line of vision. "No one needs to get hurt," he reassured. "Velocity, Mirage was talking out of his exhaust. You know this."

Energon dribbled down the blade and made a thick splat as it hit the floor.

Lips pulled back to expose dental plates, and hate crackled from the femme. "The last few weeks have been really rough, and this metal cunt wants to fuck with me." Heat radiated from Velocity.

Prowl had remained silent, but he slowly moved towards Mirage. Ironhide hoped he guessed to plan and kept Velocity talking. "It's been hard on everyone. Perhaps you misunderstood…" The warrior realized he said the wrong thing when she looked at him. The temperature of the room ticked up several degrees.

Green optics blazed brighter than possible, something wild and alien slid behind them and took control of the burnished femme. That – thing – he had felt coiled within her, had been freed. Ironhide wondered if his optics needed calibrating. A soft light shimmered at the edges of the femme's armor.

"I didn't misunderstand shit," she hissed, "He can threaten me. He can put his hands on me. He can degrade and demean me. But if I retaliated, I am in the wrong. That is some fucking, sexist bullshit."

Ironhide didn't need his optics calibrated. With every word, the glow with in her brightened. A light shown from underneath her armor, casting the red plates into shadows. The old mech prayed to a metal god he didn't believe in.

Energon coated Velocity's blade, it pooled against the hilt and dribbled steadily to the floor. Mirage opened his optic shutters and raw fear etched his facial plates as he leaned backward, trying the move away from the blade.

Every curse and profanity Ironhide knew threatened to tumble out his vocals. Looking past the femme and noble, the weapon's specialist searched Prowl for guidance. This had to end quickly, before Velocity lost total control. The old mech thought about rushing the femme, hoping she wouldn't turn her anger onto him. He scrapped that idea, the blade had not only severed an energon line, but it aligned with Mirage's automated processing unit. Velocity intended to kill him with one hard thrust.

"Velocity?" called Prowl.

Slowly turning her helm, she femme tracked the tactician as he paced behind Mirage.

"Mirage is an Autobot. He is an ally," the SIC reminded her, "We don't always get along, but we are all trying to defeat the Decepticons."

"Then why is he giving the Decepticons energon?" Velocity turned her attention back to Mirage and shifted her sword a little. "Are you giving them energon?"

Mirage whimpered in pain, but he held his position. "Yes," he whispered.

"Velocity, I know this," Prowl started. "He was acting under my orders. That is what Mirage does, he acts as a liaison between us and certain Decepticon factions – groups that aren't as loyal to Megatron. That is how we receive some of our information, we pay for it."

The femme didn't move. Her light didn't dim, but Ironhide swore he could see the thoughts swirling through her processor.

Optimus stepped past him. The Prime grabbed Velocity by the sword arm and commanded, "Enough!"

Prowl jumped forward, grabbed Mirage and pulled the mech away.

Immediately, the internal light snuffed out and all the crackling rage drained away. Velocity's facial plates shifted to surprise.

Optimus didn't release her. He turned, and she stumbled are him as he dragged her towards the exit.

Immediately, Ironhide turned to find Mirage. Prowl already had the fragging glitch by the armor and pulled him to his feet. Crossing his arms over his mass, Ironhide snapped, "You might wish Velocity had scrambled your processor."

XxxX

Optimus dragged her out of the rotund and down a hallway. Velocity stumbled to keep up, his long strides out pacing her shorter ones. Annoyance and frustration crackled around the mech.

"I can explain," the femme began, her voice ragged from emotions.

Stopping and turning to face her, the Prime's optics flashed a dangerous deep blue. "Not here, not now," he snapped. Then, his gaze flicked to this hand wrapped around her arm. It took a second before he released her. Spinning on his ped, he stalked deeper into the corridor. "With me," he ordered.

For a fleeting moment, Velocity considered simply walking away from him. Her heightened emotions still bubbled and simmered within her. Curling her hands into fists, she fallowed her mate, determined to ignore the fading sensation of his touch on her arm.

Velocity fell in behind Optimus. His bulk filled most of her visual field, and she couldn't help but notice his limp. The entry would of Soundwave's single attack became noticeable under her scrutiny, a roughly circular area spreading between shoulder and center of his back. Ghostly hints of flames emerged on repairs, where healing had nearly finished.

With each step along the corridors, the femme's emotions cooled. Nagging tugs of doubt began picking at her. Her pump began to pound as she second guessed her actions. Her hands began to shake, and she wanted to explain her side. She wanted to tell why she did what she did, but they kept walking. Optimus remained mute but his energy field scalded her when she brushed against it.

The Prime's angry stomps became and limp and now shuffles and his vents cycled rapidly. The harsh intake of air hissed from him. Reaching out, he trailed a hand along the wall, whether for support or balance, Velocity couldn't tell.

No mech or human crossed their path. No shuts, or laughter or ped falls echoed from adjoining hallways. The base appeared deserted, no one to intervene between her and the irate Prime.

Arriving at their quarters, Optimus unlocked and opened the door. He ushered her in without looking at her.

That simple act, pierced her soul. His head and gaze turned away from her, said more than any words ever could: disgust. She had disgusted him. Anger and hate she could handle, but disgust ate at the soul. Disgust ate away at relationships, making them unpalatable and beyond repair. Her armor sagged on her frame and she shuttered her optics as she stepped over the threshold.

Neither of them activated the lights as Optimus brushed past her and headed deeper into their quarters.

Velocity stood in the dark. She didn't want to be in a confined space with him, to face suffocation from the intense emotions roiling off his electrical field. Deeper down, she didn't want to face his wrath and revulsion of her actions. If forced to make the same decisions again, she would do the same, but knowing he didn't approve sliced through her. Hanging her head in the shadows, she didn't know what to do. She wanted to present her argument, yet he refused to allow her to speak.

A light flicked on and glowed dimly down the hallway barely touching her armor. Velocity made her decision. She turned and started to leave.

"Velocity. Come here," echoed and rumbled through the room.

The timbre of the voice stopped her. She blinked and cycled her vents. Turning back around, the femme squared her shoulders and raised her head high. She refused to grovel, even to her mate, the Prime of Cybertron.

Optimus waited in their quarters, his arms crossed over his chest, shoulder leaning on a wall. He still didn't look at her, and his frustration and anger hung between them, acidic fumed corroding all they touched.

Stopping just inside the rom, Velocity crossed her arms over her chest. She shivered against the cold currents emanating from the Prime. The silence, the tension, the uncertainty all pressed against her. She couldn't take it anymore. "Optimus, I…"

He cut her off, "Don't." He turned his attention to her, his optics laser points cutting into her. He held a hand up. "Just let me say what I need to say." He looked away, his facial plates shifting with barely contained emotions. His mouth moved, yet he said nothing.

He cycled deeply. Pulling his weight off the wall, the Prime stepped towards the middle of the room. Awkwardly and carefully, he lowered himself to his knees, minimizing the distance between them.

Nearly face to face, she looked away, focusing on a smudge off to her right. Small tremors ran along Velocity's frame, as she resisted the urge to step backward. This close, his field engulfed her, the anger and frustration radiating, pulsing and toxic. She shifted her arms to hug herself in protection. Her facial plated involuntarily twitched as she suppressed a snarl.

"I have failed you. I am sorry," Optimus finally whispered. The anger surrounding him turned inward.

Velocity's head snapped up. "What?" she stammered.

Optimus hung his head, armor plates tightened around him. "I have not treated you fairly. For Vorns, I have said, 'freedom is the right of sentient beings.' Yet, I never gave you the right to choose."

He raised his head enough to look at her. "I never allowed you the right to choose your own destiny. I never allowed you to chose if you wanted to become like us. I never allowed you to but I never allowed you to choose for yourself."

His softly spoken words slammed into her, crushing her soul under their weight. She shuttered her optics and hugged herself tighter. "I don't know if I can do this." The words tumbled out of her vocals. She glanced back at her mate.

"I understand." He reached for her. His hand grazed her arm and with gentle tugs he unwrapped her self-embrace. Sliding his hand to hers, he pulled her closer to him.

Velocity allowed him to guide her.

Optimus pressed her palm to the center of his, over his spark. "This means that I am yours. Our bond can never be broken, and this, my spark will forever belong to you." He looked away before he continued. "If you wish to leave you are free to do so, I will not stop you."

Kneeling before her, exposed and vulnerable, offering her the chance to walk away. Velocity stared at the mech, ruler of a world, powerful, intelligent, formidable and willing to endure perpetual misery for her independence. He gave her the power to slowly destroy him with her decision. The two of them teetered on a razor's edge, whatever decision she made, could not be undone. One single misstep and they would both suffer. One wrong gesture, at this critical time and she could crush them both.

Shuttering her optics and venting a deep sigh, Velocity weighed her options. She didn't rush, she stood, her hand pressed against his chest trying to decide what she truly wanted. Silence fell around them, neither talked for everything had been said.

Eventually she chose the only route she could.

Without opening her optic shutters, she stepped forward. A simple act. One step towards her mate, telling him her decision was made.

Massive arms encircled her and pulled her against him. Optimus moaned softly, burring his face against her. His electrical field engulfed her, relief flooding over her in waves. Velocity laid her head against his chest, the thrum of his pump echoing into her audios.

Almost two years ago, her carefully crafted life was destroyed. She sat out, looking for a new place to begin again. Here within the arms of this mech, she found it, she found her home.

XxxX

Authors notes: I have had parts of this chapter written for years, literal years. It just took too long to fill in the plot canyon to get here. I hope you enjoyed.

I am not sure how long the next chapter will take. There is a lot of research required for it. On the upside, we are nearing the end. Only a handful of chapters left.

Also, on a random note, I am in the process of rewriting Finding Salvation. Should I publish the new version all at once or a chapter at a time?

AshasCadence chapter 50 . Jul 21

I had to really sit and think about how I wanted to review now that I've speed reread through the story(ies).

I completely understand how Velocity feels and I hope ironhide can knock some sense into her at least, but cost them valuable insight on the cons. Hardcore is just going to be a lone cockroach I have that feeling. Prime isn't going to be happy but probably be understanding real quick given what she endured and not all too happy what she dealt with.

Simmons needs to wake up and lay down what happened. Probably give shit to v for a while about trying to kill him but understands why and hopefully the new secdef will back off. She's almost similar to Galloway but not quite that biased or at least outspokenly. Either prowl or prime needs to point that out and give a reminder about smith (I think that was his name) and how that went down or something to get her to back off a bit.

As far as mirage I hope karma bites him in the butt. Either chromia needs to teach Velocity of how to grow a backbone again or heck even sunstreaker give her some tips or advice from prime to an extent but given enough free reigns to finally settle and establish herself as the primes bonded and make it very so very clear. He can't walk all over any longer and he needs to know that. I keep thinking if he would be the type to plot something but yet I don't think so as he has interests in success for The Autobots and prime too. He will just be an angry boy on the sidelines and probably look after hardcore and get some info from him that way and later probably piss Velocity off about that.

With the cons I can see the chaos growing and wondering if and how a leader will come up on top. With soundwave deciding to take matters into his own hands he has to deal with barricades antics who I think would still keep scheming and plotting to stay at the top of the chain but not quite challenge soundwave either but conflicted about not reviving megs possibly. Course thundercracker could be the one to rattle off to starscream about it and starscream and soundwave would go at it. Then soundwave probably would realize after that hey maybe I should bring back Megatron. That's just theories so far I have or maybe considerable ideas.

Have you thought of any ideas on what could be happening on cybertron since Iacon was taken back? What about shockwave and his failures to uphold the capital? Who would be leading the teams on cybertron?

Warm regards, Asha.

CamaroLady chapter 50 . Jun 14

Ive stayed up so many late nights so I could get myself caught back up with this wonderful story. I had read the first story a long while back before the second was even written. Then I stumbled across this lovely piece of work and realized it was the sequel, and well I just had to reread it all and submerge myself in the wonderful world you created! I'm all caught up now and boy have you thrown a couple of doozies at us! Cannot wait to see what happens next, I'm hanging on the edge of my seat here. :)

Moosagi chapter 50 . Jun 8

Yay! So much love for the last few chapters! I love the way you have written Velocity's turmoil and her dealing of the trauma she went through! So looking forward to see where this goes and how Optimus handles it when he wakes up!

Asha: Hardcore is a cockroach. His life is about to become more difficult and perilous. Mirage has his own set of issues to deal with. He wants to be more than he is, but he is a loyal Autobot. Decepticon chaos is soon to unfold. Their plots and treachery run deep. You are correct, Barricade doesn't want to lead, just remain comfortably high enough on the chain of command. You are an astute reader. I do have ideas about the events on Cyberton. Those could entail an entire novel. The only hints: The Prime needs to return. The citizens want to move on and rebuild. With most of the Autobots and Decepticons off world, they want to move forward, but need leadership to do so. Shckwave is in Cybertron, but he has his own schemes in play. Doubt the will be seen before the end of HOTF. Thank you so much for all of the comments and discussion.

Also, everyone go check out ( ashascadence.) She has some amazing works and a few sketches of Velocity.