This is just the bare bones of an idea. After National Novel Writing Month is over I will go back and flesh it out more, if the muse allows.
The distress signal had come out of nowhere one cycle, lighting up their systems and blaring through their headsets. Whatever was causing it was old, ancient if Ironhide was to be believed, and nothing they tried could turn the damned thing off.
It left them wide open to attack.
Red Alert was having a meltdown and only Inferno could keep his amica from going haywire. Ratchet had already threatened to sedate him if he didn't calm down soon.
After much deliberation they decided to see what in the Pit was calling for help and hoped to Primus it wasn't a trap.
Arriving on the obscure outer planet they set out for the distress call, Optimus at the forefront of the party.
"Are you sure you should be walking into this with us, Bossbot?" Bumblebee asked, concern clear in his voice.
"I am." Optimus said, looking down at the advanced scout. "The Matrix is… resonating. Whatever this is could be important, for all Cybertronians."
Bumblebee stared up at him for a long moment before nodding firmly in understanding.
"What about you, old timer?" Cliffjumper asked before having to dodge a thrown wrench.
"I'm here in case your glitched aft gets injured!" The older mech snapped.
"Ratchet." Optimus sighed.
"Don't you 'Ratchet' me, Prime." He grumbled. "This just screams 'trap' in big bright glyphs. I'm going to be right here when you lot step in it and need medical assistance." And his tone of voice brooked no argument.
"Of course, Ratchet. You know I value both your skills and your advice." Optimus said with a small smile, though you could only barely tell behind his battlemask.
"Harrumph."
"Prime, we're coming up on the signal now. It's just over that ridge." Prowl stated, face a neutral mask.
"I s'spect we're gonna come face't'face with whatever's causin the noise." Jazz commented, visor flashing in the low light of the planet's distant sun.
Topping the ridge the group of Autobots stopped and stared in silent awe. In the center of a large bowl was a structure that could only have been made by ancient Cybertronian hands.
"By Primus." Optimus wasn't certain who had spoken but he agreed with the sentiment.
"Autobots, let's approach this cautiously." He turned to regard those with him. "Bluestreak, Mirage, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Jazz. I want you here on overwatch." The bots he had called quickly took up their positions, though the twins looked less than enthused about being left behind.
"The rest of you, with me."
The trip to the structure was silent, save for the signal that only got stronger the closer they approached. Coming up to what appeared to be the main doors Optimus stopped and summoned his axe as the others spied the problem and readied themselves for a confrontation.
The front doors had been blasted inwards, the edges melted to slag as one hung from its hinges. It was clear that great force had been used.
Optimus didn't need to say anything as he cautiously crept inside, Prowl stalking silently at his side.
As they walked the darkened halls distorted voices echoed off the walls, making Optimus tense with anticipation.
"I'm telling you the signal ends here!" Came a familiar voice as they rounded a corner and came into a large domed area at the center of the structure.
"But there is nothing here." Came a cultured voice, sounding much calmer than the first.
Optimus stopped dead in his tracks, recognizing the group that was milling about in the middle of the domed room.
"Is that the Wreckers!?" Bumblebee asked loudly in surprise.
Wheeljack, standing between Perceptor and Springer, turned and spied their group. "Prime! Ratch! I'm guessing you guys got the same distress signal as us?"
"We did, yes. Have you found the source?" Optimus asked, subspacing his axe as he stepped forward to inspect the room.
Wheeljack said, "kind of," at the same moment Perceptor said, "not yet." The two looked at one another for a long moment before Perceptor let out a small sigh.
"The center of the signal appears to be here in the middle of this room but we have yet to find the source." Perceptor answered primly.
"Topspin is checking the ceiling to see if anything is up there, and the others were off exploring the rest of temple. They should be back soon, Sir." Springer supplied with his usual confident smile.
As if on cue the other Wreckers appeared from different entryways around the dome, heading for the middle where their leader was located.
"Did you see anything?" Springer asked his group as they converged.
"Nothing." Said Broadside. "This place is entirely empty."
"It gives me the creeps." Sandstorm added with a shudder.
"I just don't understand why this signal is even here!" Wheeljack said with some frustrating as he fiddled with the scanner in his servos.
As more bots stepped closer to ask questions or state their opinions on how utterly obnoxious the signal was Optimus felt a shift beneath his pedes. Looking down he shifted his pede back and noticed slim fractures in the floor. Optimus' optics widened when Ratchet nudged Ironhide out of the way so he could admonish Wheeljack for his clear lack of medical care and the floor fractured further.
"Everyone stop!" He called out in warning, but it was too late.
"Woah, what's gotten into yo-" Topsin landed next to his brother as he spoke, looking confused, and the floor buckled beneath them.
"Brace for impact!" Ironhide yelled as the floor disappeared beneath their pedes.
They fell into the darkness below, Topspin diving for his twin as the light above them illuminated the room below.
Optimus landed hard, rolling to disperse some of the force. Even with the maneuver he could feel his joint creaking from strain. All around him were the frames of his Autobots, most laying motionless. Knocked offline by the fall.
"Optimus!" Taking a couple quick steps he fell to his knee next to the older mech.
"Are you alright, old friend?" He asked worriedly.
Ratchet grimaced. "Nothing a little polish can't fix." The older mech grunted as he tried to sit up. Something snapped loudly and the medic let out a staticky hiss of pain. Optimus' hands hovered over the old mech, uncertain whether moving him would cause more damage or not. "Looks like… one of my spinal struts… pitslag."
"Don't move, old friend, I'll find aid." He went to move but stopped when the mech's hand reached for him before falling.
"Optimus." The old mech said carefully. "Be careful. There's… something here." The mech whispered before his optics shuttered. If he hadn't been able to feel his magnetic field thrumming gently he would have sworn the mech was offline.
Standing he looked over the fallen frames. "Autobots, call out if you're online!" He called into the cavernous room.
He shuddered when he didn't hear an echo of his voice. How large was this space?
"Over here Bossbot!" A light flickered on and he sighed a little in relief seeing Bumblebee climbing to his pedes.
"No! Nonononono! Topspin!" Both he and Bumblebee startled when Twin Twist suddenly cried out in anguish.
Hurrying toward the voice he skidded to a stop in front of some rubble. Twin Twist was desperately digging at a large chunk of the ceiling, energon leaking from his servos as fluid fell from his eyes. He let out another choked off sob of pain and Bumblebee reached out to try and stop him.
Optimus put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. Trying to stop the frantic mech would only make the situation worse.
"Bumblebee, we need to help him quickly. Topspin is under there." Pulling out his axe he used it to wedge under the largest piece of debris and planted his feet. Heaving with all his might he lifted the debris and got his hands beneath it. With a massive shove he lifted it higher, enough that Bumblebee could slip inside and haul out the downed flier.
The moment the two of them were clear he eased the debris down and let it go, jumping back so as not to be caught by it.
Twin Twist had taken his brother from Bumblebee and laid him out on the ground, cradling his helm.
Bumblebee knelt next to the twins, expression serious. "Twin Twist, let me help. Okay?"
The mech made a low sound of pain but didn't stop the scout from checking over his twin.
Optimus knew that they were in good servos and turned his attention to finding his remaining Autobots.
'Here.' Twitching at the unfamiliar voice he spun in place, axe gripped tightly in hand. 'This way.' It spoke again.
Inside his chassis the Matrix began to thrum, gently at first but quickly growing in strength.
'This way, Orion Pax.' Without really understanding why he began following the voice, all other sound drowned out by the humming of the Matrix.
Tripping over uneven ground he fell against a solid mass. Using it to stand he felt along the edges and realized it was a door.
'Come inside." Beneath his servos the door opened, a bright light spilling forth and temporarily blinding him. He raised his arm to cover his optics until the light was more bearable again. Putting his arm down he stared into a crystal clear golden pool of unknown liquid. At the center was a pedestal that held a simple cube. Around it was a corona of light, shining like a beacon.
'Come to me, Orion Pax, Last of the Primes.' Stepping into the golden liquid he felt it slosh over his pede. The ache from before left him as something warm and comforting embraced his frame. 'I am Chrono, Guardian of this Temple. It has been eons since I was placed here. Finally it is time I fulfilled my purpose.'
Optimus stopped before the cube. "What purpose?"
'To bring an end to the destruction of Cybertron.' The cube began to glow further. 'To bring peace. Is that not what you desire as well, Orion Pax?'
Optimus hesitated. He didn't know if thie was a trap, even if the Matrix seemed very keen on the idea.
'I will not harm your comrades. I was meant to create, to heal, not to destroy.' It reassured him.
Optimus thought about Ratchet and Topspin, both wounded beyond what any of them could reasonably repair. "What about a way out of here?"
'Yes. I will help you.'
Optimus reached for the cube, hesitated, then grabbed hold of it with both hands.
A searing bolt of electricity ran through his frame, passing over the Matrix, and down into the pool. 'Restore Cybertron, Prime, and make peace with all beings of Cybertron. This is your duty… your destiny.'
Light exploded around him and in a flash it was gone.
Optimus blinked up at the ceiling of the temple and frowned in confusion. It looked like the domed room they'd been in before the floor had- Sitting up quickly he looked around him at the fallen forms nearby. All of them were the bare metal of unpainted frames.
One of them groaned and sat up. "What in the slag hit me?" Came an angry feminine voice.
Looking into familiar disgruntled blue optics Optimus froze. "…Ratchet?"
The unpainted femme rolled her optics. "Who else would it-" She stopped for a moment and scowled in confusion. Looking down at herself the femme let out a shriek or rage. "Who in the Pit reformatted me into a fragging femme!?"
The shriek woke the other forms nearby, who also sat up in alarm.
"What in the slag?" Looking over the one who had spoken Optimus felt a flicker of familiarity and gaped.
"Wheeljack? You're Wheeljack, aren't you?" Now that he'd spoken again he realized that his voice was much higher than it had been before.
"Woah, Prime? Is that you?" The former mech looked him up and down for a moment. "Uh… did you know you're a femme?"
Optimus let out a heavy sigh as he… she? got to her pedes.
"I want everyone to state their designations clearly." Optimus said.
"Perceptor." Came a calm yet cultured voice, pitched low but unmistakably feminine.
"S-Springer." And oh, if the poor femme didn't look like she was about to break into hysterics at any moment.
"Ratchet." The angry medic growled.
"Wheeljack."
"...Prowl."
They all turned to him, her, and she took a deep breath. "Optimus Prime."
They looked at each other for a moment, feeling about with their magnetic fields to get a sense of one another.
Then Optimus heard it. A high pitched shrieking noise.
"Uh… was that one of you?" Wheeljack asked, optics wide.
"Oh for the love of!" Ratchet launched hi-herself off of the ground and started scanning the room. Over by one of the pillars was a small form, much smaller than any of the Autobots. The small form made another high pitched shrieking sound.
'Cybertronian Protection Protocol Activated. Prime directives- raise and defend young. Secondary directives- rebuild and repopulate Cyberton.'
Everybot flinched at the same time and Optimus had to assume they had heard the voice just as h-she had.
"Young?" Springer asked, voice wavering slightly.
Just then a group of small forms stumbled into the room, chirping and squalling for attention.
It was a group of young, unpainted and unarmored, sparklings.
"Oh smelter's rod!" Ratchet cursed, just quietly enough that Optimus could overhear.
"I don't think the smelter had anything to do with this." She said quietly, touching the center of her chassis where the Matrix had gone oddly silent. "But the blame can come later. We have work to do."