Nova scurried along the ventilation shaft, irritated that she had overslept.
The previous night had ended with Optimus, now called Orion Pax, being escorted to his quarters while Knock Out prepared the medical bay for the new recruit's "cosmetic alteration," a statement which filled Nova with foreboding.
Luckily, due to the general uproar of the ship's crew, she managed to crawl into the ducts without drawing attention to herself.
Having followed the Prime under the floor for a short distance, and satisfied that no one was likely to kill him in the immediate future, the half-spark had spent several minutes sitting in the dark vents by his door, slumped against the wall, trying to catch her breath. Dark Energon sickness made movement far more exhausting than before, and she couldn't understand how Optimus or Megatron could even stand after such direct exposure to Unicron's Spark.
Then again, she had remembered, they were both stronger than she, and Megatron had been ingesting Unicron's blood for far longer than she had even heard of it.
It was stuffy and hot in the vents, but she dared not remove her armor, not when she was this deep in enemy territory.
The last time she was aboard this warship, she had been subjected to horrible mental torture, and the memory of her deepest secrets lying bare before Megatron himself was enough to fill her with a quaking sense of dread.
Shaking fingers tapped restlessly on her legs, and she released a wavering breath into the silence.
She needed Optimus. She longed with her whole heart to burst into his room and demand a hug, an explanation, a reprimand, anything. She wanted to grab him by the face and make him understand that he simply had to give up this amnesia nonsense and take her home at once — that the others were counting on them to come back.
More than anything, she just wanted to be near him again, to sit on his shoulder in her usual spot and hear him tell her that it would be all right, and when that happened, Nova was quite sure she would not have to be afraid anymore.
But she couldn't get up and go see Optimus. She couldn't do anything. The warship was crawling with Decepticons, and Nova knew that to reveal herself now would mean a horrible death.
For the moment, she was all alone, and would have to handle the situation by herself.
The thought paralyzed her.
It was only her against an entire army of near-invulnerable alien robots. If she made a single mistake, she would die. Maybe Optimus would die, too.
Her imagination ran wild, painting pictures of all possible escape scenarios and how they would go wrong. She imagined Megatron discovering her before she could help Optimus. He could crush her, step on her, pull her to pieces — and worst of all, she imagined being strapped to that medical table again, forced to undergo the twisted functions of every single instrument in Knock Out's arsenal.
She shook her head to clear it, sucking in a deep breath.
Part of her desperately hoped that Optimus had been bluffing the whole time. Maybe he had a brilliant plan to fool Megatron, bring down his warship and get out of here, and everything would be all right.
The thought encouraged her until she remembered how Optimus spoke to Jack when he gave him the Key, and her heart dropped like a stone. Even if his life depended on it, Optimus couldn't deceive a toddler. Which meant he really was gone, and wouldn't remember her at all.
Maybe he was gone forever.
Her armor scraping slightly, Nova pulled her knees up to her chest, staring somberly at the darkness stretching away in front of her.
So I really am alone.
What am I supposed to do?
Perhaps it was due to the fatigue or her crippling terror, but no ideas came to her mind. Resigning herself to a long night, Nova tightened her arms around her shoulders and settled down to wait. Every so often, the terrified girl fancied she could hear someone approaching her ventilation shaft, alerted by the sound of her pounding heart. The very thought of Soundwave stalking the halls with his silent, eyeless face and all-hearing ears was enough to keep her awake for hours.
She spent the night drifting in and out of fitful sleep, watching Optimus' room for any sign of movement, until finally, she closed her eyes out of sheer exhaustion and lost consciousness entirely, her woes and worries momentarily silenced by blissful rest.
Nova had jerked awake a while later, and the first thing she felt was irritation at being in the dark. The second thing she felt was utter confusion. Nova was not one of those sharp-minded heroes who could wake up with all her wits intact. The half-spark was often slow and sluggish when she awoke, and it usually took her several seconds to cipher out where exactly she was after sleeping in a new place. How much time had passed was an utter mystery to her; she could have been asleep for two hours or two days.
Feeling sick and exhausted and slightly more irritable than afraid, she had crawled along the duct beside Optimus' room and found the door open, the inhabitant long gone. Filled with sudden panic, Nova had pulled herself into the vents above the hallway and began a hunt for the medibay.
Now, she was crawling through an endless network of stuffy vents, berating herself for indulging in that nap.
Navigating her way across the warship took some time, and her lack of familiarity with its layout made finding the medical bay even more difficult. She kept going in circles, and several times she stumbled over her own hands or had to wriggle between tight spaces in the wall, both of which made a lot of noise and sent her heart into her throat. Luckily, few Decepticons were on patrol, and no one discovered her presence.
It took her about half an hour to locate the blasted room and another few minutes to find a position that would afford her an acceptable view. Seeing that Optimus had not yet arrived, she took up a post behind one of the main ventilation grates where she could observe everything and sat down to wait. Knock Out was alone in the medibay, humming to himself, getting some tools in order, and setting up a medical slab. He was still preparing for a patient, so Optimus couldn't have been treated and gone.
What if they pull out all his organs?
What if they cut him into tiny pieces?
What if they brainwash him?
Worries like this nagged her until she fell asleep once again, oddly comforted by the ever-present hum of the ship's engines.
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A loud clunk woke her up, and she started awake just in time to see the medical table lowering to its former position. Optimus now lay upon it, with Knock Out standing close by, and what Nova saw freshly engraved upon his shoulder made her recoil in horror.
"Welcome back to the winning team," Knock Out smiled, putting the finishing touches on the Decepticon symbol. It glowed red-hot on her guardian's chassis, a searing image that branded her mind.
"Oh, Optimus," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes to shut out the symbol. "What have they done?"
But no matter how hard she tried, the image of the grotesque face was burned into her eyelids and would not go away.
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Orion followed Megatron silently into the bridge, looking around at the various Vehicon troopers milling about below him. The bridge was poorly lit, and the young archivist wondered why everything in the warship had been so dark and gloomy thus far.
Probably a means of conserving energy, he said to himself. I suppose that's very practical.
Megatron, his back turned to his now-young ward, began to speak, utterly unaware of the listening ear in the ducts above the enormous viewing screen.
"You have been a captive of the Autobots and locked in stasis for quite some time, Orion," the warlord explained sympathetically. "Long enough for us to be in an exodus on another world."
"Exodus?" Orion inquired, joining him. "Why?"
Megatron peered down at him gravely. "Because the warlord Ratchet's careless actions led to this."
An image shot up onto the screen.
A wide panorama of a barren metal landscape, pockmarked and clearly dead, met Orion's surprised eyes. From her vantage point above, Nova could clearly see the expression of horror that appeared on her guardian's face.
"Cybertron," he gasped, and as the camera panned over Cybertron's cold, desolate plains, his shock melted into the most angered, hate-filled look Nova had ever seen on Optimus' face. It frightened her.
Megatron's words were full of poison, and his wiles were beginning to work upon the young clerk. Optimus Prime, in any form, may have been unable to lie, but Megatron had no such handicap.
Under Megatron's silent glares, the poor Vehicon operating the slideshow flipped through full-length, high-definition images of Cybertron's war-scarred landscape. Daring to peer at the screen, Nova was taken aback by how much destruction the planet had suffered. The alien land was filled with burned and blackened buildings, overshadowed by choking, dark skies. It was a sobering sight for the young girl.
They all lost everything...
"I cannot believe Ratchet to be capable of such horrors," Orion said in astonishment.
"Yes," hissed Megatron, "And to think that the Doctor of Doom's mad quest for power continues."
He turned to Orion, launching into a web of lies that made Nova grind her teeth.
"His marauders pursued us to this planet's orbit. We feel its species is not ready to behold us."
Megatron turned and folded his hands behind his back, walking away from the screen as he continued. "But we have resolved to protect this world from the same tragedy which was dealt to our own."
Nova tightened her fists.
"One question, Megatron," Optimus stopped him. "Why are we called Decepticons?"
The warlord hesitated.
"Another craven Autobot scare tactic," he said finally, moving his arms in a dramatic flourish. "The name was meant to demonize us; instead, we wear it as a badge of honor, for if speaking the truth is deception, then we are gladly guilty."
Satisfied, Optimus nodded.
"Now please, Orion," Megatron said to the curious recruit, turning to leave as Nova scurried along the duct after him. "There will be plenty of time for catching up. You must rest."
"Megatron," Optimus' voice swelled with passion in the room as Megatron stopped again. "I will do my part to stop Ratchet's unspeakable crimes of aggression." He clenched his fist. "This I vow, with all my Spark."
"Oh, great," Nova sighed as the door closed behind Megatron. Optimus had literally signed his Spark over to his sworn enemy.
She could even hear Megatron's comment to Soundwave outside, coming in a broken, airy rasp through the ventilation ducts.
"It seems we have successfully achieved control of Orion's Spark," he said, amused at the delicious irony. "Now, to put his mind to work. Have you sanitized the data core?"
There was no response, but Nova assumed Soundwave nodded, for Megatron continued in a pleased voice. "Excellent. Our new archivist will require unlimited access to our files. It would be… counterproductive for him to stumble upon any sensitive information."
"I've got to talk to him," Nova told herself. "I can't let Megatron do this to him anymore."
You really think he'll believe you? her brain replied. Look at him.
Nova slowly turned and looked through the vent slits. Optimus was staring at the images of Cybertron, his hands trembling.
He's just lost everything he ever loved. As far as he knows, Megatron is all he has left. You're his enemy. If you show your face now, he'll tell Megatron, and you will die.
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Later, Nova had curled up in a ball inside another duct. This time, she had taken up a position in a floor duct under Optimus' makeshift office. Since she was at an intersection of the vents underneath the floor, she could keep an eye on Optimus as he worked and still hear what was happening in the outer hallway.
Now, Megatron was conversing with Knock Out just outside the room, explaining the task to which he had put Orion.
"When we stormed the Iacon Hall of Records in the waning days of the war for Cybertron, we acquired highly classified files — files written in Autobot codes which we had been unable to decipher."
"Autobot codes which the archivist Orion Pax should have no trouble cracking," Knock Out realized with a smile in his voice. "Considering what's at stake, shouldn't we beef up the security around here?"
After a pause, Megatron responded in a friendly voice, "Knock Out; I believe that Orion will perform most effectively if he does not feel threatened or confined in any way. However, it is no coincidence that Orion's work-station is located in direct proximity to the Energon storage vault…"
"… Which is under constant surveillance," Knock Out finished. "Well played."
The half-spark wrinkled her nose in disgust. There's always a catch. But at least I know where the security cameras are.
"I believe it is high time I pay our industrious new archivist a visit," Megatron said, his footsteps thudding toward the door as Knock Out remained behind. Nova scrambled forward in the shaft to listen as the door slid open, granting the warlord access.
"Orion! How fares Project Iacon?"
"I am a bit rusty, I fear," Orion responded without turning away from the computer. "I've only managed to decode three entries."
"And what do these entries comprise?" Megatron inquired expectantly, still standing at a respectful distance.
"They were logged by Autobot archivists during the war..." Orion said, allowing his typing to halt for a moment. "... after I entered stasis. My only knowledge of their contents so far is that they are coordinates."
He turned from the computer and gestured to a hologram of Earth. "Targeting locations on this very planet."
As Megatron looked over his work, Orion continued speaking, and Nova noticed that the clerk was markedly timid in his manner. Every time he met Megatron's eyes, he broke contact first and looked at the ground, as if unsure of himself.
Oh, Optimus, she thought with pity. What happened to you?
"I surmise that they could indicate hiding places for vessels, shuttled from Cybertron… for safekeeping," he said.
"Such as… historical documents, or cultural artifacts?" Megatron wondered. Nova could tell he was searching for something deeper, a suspicion the oblivious Orion confirmed with his next statement.
"My greatest fear would be weapons of mass destruction," he said. "Hidden away, for later use."
Megatron's mouth curved into an evil, secret smile, and Nova knew precisely what the Decepticon was after. Concealing his satisfaction, he turned and faced Orion in false good fellowship.
"All the more reason we must do everything in our power to keep said vessels from Autobot reach," he said, placing a warm hand on Optimus' shoulder. "We are fortunate to have you on our side, Orion Pax."
Nova nearly kicked the vent walls.
Then, Megatron turned to exit the room, but the archivist ventured to ask another question.
"Lord Megatron?"
Nova winced at the words coming out of his mouth but reminded herself that he didn't mean it… he didn't know.
As Megatron waited expectantly, Orion continued. "I am puzzled by one particular finding. I have discovered several historical references to Starscream as your second-in-command."
He pressed a button, and an image of the skinny, winged Decepticon flew up on the screen. "Yet I have not seen him aboard the ship."
Nova nearly chuckled at the expression on Megatron's face, and he indeed seemed to be at a loss for a clever response, for he only turned to the archivist and said lamely: "Sadly, Commander Starscream is dead."
With that, he turned and left the room, giving no further opportunity for Orion to ask any more intrusive questions, and Nova shook her head in disgust in her hiding place.
Everyone knew that Starscream had deserted the Decepticons after being held captive by the Autobots. Now he was aligned with no side, and since his defection, no one had seen or heard of him for several months.
Orion turned and further inspected the computer screen; his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
A brief glimmer of hope began to blossom in Nova's mind as she watched him. Perhaps he wasn't so compliant after all. Optimus Prime was no fool, and she found it hard to believe Orion Pax had been one either. Then again, she realized, Optimus was now as innocent as a child, and he trusted Megatron — after all, why shouldn't he? As far as he was concerned, the warlord was still his best friend.
I have to do something.
She glanced up at the slits in the grate above her head determinedly. There had to be some way to gather more information - maybe even try and talk to him.
Quietly, Nova extended her wrist-blade out a couple of inches and wedged it under the grate, sliding it upward and outward, moving it little by little.
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The grate had nearly been shifted out of position when Nova heard something. The sharp screech of rubber on metal reverberated through the ducts to meet her twitching ears.
"Arcee?" Nova whispered in disbelief. She turned away from the grate and angled her head, listening intently.
"That's Arcee."
Abandoning the vent cover, she scurried down the length of the ventilation shaft as fast as she could, heading for the place from which the noise had come. Sure enough, in an adjacent hallway, the sound of blaster fire and clashing metal spurred her onward, so that she was in a half-run, half-crawl sort of crouch as she sped through the duct. Her heart raced. An elated smile tugged at her lips. The others were trying to save Optimus!
The noise of battle got closer and closer until something fell onto the top of the grate with a crash. Flinching away, Nova looked closer. It was a dead Vehicon body.
"Well, I guess stealth is out the window," she muttered, forming her blaster and aiming at the grate. In three blasts, she had made enough of a hole to crawl out and take a look at her surroundings, ducking behind the corpse of the Decepticon for cover.
Arcee was indeed aboard, stabbing and slashing one Vehicon after another, laying waste to all Decepticons which stood in her way. She had pinned one poor soul to the ground with her blades extended and yelled, "Where's Optimus?!"
At the sight of her, Nova's heart leapt for joy, and she opened her mouth to cry out, but suddenly she stopped, and her heart froze.
Where were the others?
The Vehicon struggled to break free from Arcee's grip, but he refused to speak as she threateningly raised her arm in the air. "Answer me!"
The trooper, instead of answering, looked behind him into the hallway that joined theirs, from which spouted an entire unit of Vehicon troopers, their blasters alive with red fire.
Scrambling to her feet, Nova struggled to get out of the hole, tripping over herself in her haste.
Arcee used the trooper as a temporary shield, allowing his corpse to take the brunt of the lasers until the other Vehicons approached. Then she burst into action, dodging and jumping and blasting and slashing, even running over a Vehicon in her motorcycle mode, popping a wheelie off of his head as she sped off to look for her leader.
"Arcee!" Nova called after her, "Arcee! Wait!"
But the two-wheeler was gone, her red taillight disappearing around the corner as she revved up her engine and vanished from sight, leaving Nova alone with several dozen Vehicon carcasses.
All her hopes came crashing down, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes.
No ...
Her shoulders slumped, and she took in a shuddering breath as she trembled.
Then her head sprang up as an idea slammed into her brain.
Maybe if Optimus sees her, his memories will come back.
She slipped through the shafts even faster now, crawling with purpose through the dark tunnel back to her guardian.
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Standing at his computer and typing in several decoding algorithms, Orion suddenly cocked his head at the increasingly loud noises rattling his locked door. Curious, the young archivist abandoned his research and approached the door. As it slid open, he placed one hand on the wall and leaned out to look into the hallway while Nova, wedged into a crevice beside the opening, smiled and blew off her smoking blaster. Her decoy had worked.
Two Vehicons sprinted past the opening, one of them pausing to speak with the clerk.
"Orion, please return to your station," he ordered. "Lord Megatron's orders."
Nova was pleased to hear Orion step out of the door after the Vehicons had left, too inquisitive to heed their warning.
She ducked back into the ventilation shaft as she heard blaster fire coming closer. Even though Arcee had managed to infiltrate the ship, the two-wheeler was alone. Nova did not want to give away her presence until she was sure they could get Optimus out, especially since her eyes had caught a flicker of movement at the end of the hallway.
Soundwave was on the move.
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Her way now clear, Arcee dodged the last of the lasers and sped down the hallway as fast as her motor would allow. She had absolutely no idea where they were keeping Optimus, but she was not about to waste her one chance to find him. She had to be faster; search the ship before it was too late.
But her determination stalled as a slim figure came into view.
Taking his time, Soundwave planted his feet at the end of the hallway and stood in silence, staring calmly at the incoming motorcycle.
Arcee popped a wheelie, revving her engine in defiance of the silent spook. Optimus was here, she knew. He had to be. And no one, not even Soundwave, could stop her. Not now.
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Orion, approaching Soundwave from the left hallway, heard a strange, revving noise. It seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't figure out why. This only motivated him to continue walking towards the Decepticon communications expert, determined to figure out what was happening.
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Soundwave was aware. He was aware of everything. He watched the impudent little blue Autobot streaking toward him at impossible speed, and he watched the nosy Prime, walking at a slower pace from his left. Megatron had ordered him to get rid of the two-wheeler and discreetly. The curious archivist must not be allowed to suspect that he needed to be saved. To any other Decepticon, this would seem like an impossible task, but Soundwave was not any other Decepticon.
He knew how to deal with the motorcycle. He knew precisely how.
The coordinates for the Groundbridge he wanted to make appeared as beeping numbers on his screen-like face. The moment — the very splintered moment that the two-wheeled Autobot would have slammed into him with the full force of her tiny body, the portal blossomed between them and swallowed her up. It dumped her squarely into the center of the Arctic just as Orion Pax rounded the corner.
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"I heard a commotion," Orion said to Soundwave, hoping to elicit a response. But the silent Decepticon barely gave him a glance before walking away, leaving Orion more puzzled than before.
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Back in the 'office,' Nova silently berated herself for letting Arcee get away without even seeing that Optimus was alive.
How could you fail? He was right there. She was right there. That was your one chance to make him remember something, idiot. Now Arcee's gone. They don't even know Optimus is alive, and you're going to get yourself killed.
Ignoring her worries, Nova worked her knife further under the grate and slid it away from its holder. The other Autobots had no way of knowing if either of them were being held on the warship, but it was an immense comfort to know that they were actively seeking the truth.
"Just like the clueless archivist I find myself with," she muttered as Orion looked up from his computer.
Suddenly, as she moved the grate out of its hole and made to lay it on the ground, it slipped out of her fingers and hit the metal floor with a clattering crash!
Klutz! Idiot! Moron!
"Who is there?" Orion asked.
Silence.
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Petrified, Nova pressed herself into the shadows and looked up through the narrow opening, listening to his heavy footsteps coming closer. Her shaking breath hissed through her teeth.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no...
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Kneeling by the damaged vent, the archivist peered down into the hole.
"Come out," he said gently. "Do not be afraid."
A slight sound came from the hole in the floor, and Orion saw something move in the vent. He could tell that the person, whoever it might be, was of very small proportions indeed, and therefore was probably a little afraid.
"I will not harm you," he promised. "You may come out."
"Are — are you alone?" A quiet, feminine voice responded to his vow.
Orion looked around.
"I am," he told her.
"What about security cameras?"
He frowned, a little puzzled by her question.
"I see no security cameras in the room," he replied softly. "Please, show yourself that I may know who you are."
"All right," the voice said, and the clerk was astonished at what he saw emerge from the ventilation shaft.
It was a tiny little… person, barely as tall as his hand and clad in glinting armor. She clambered up through the hole and stood before him, rubbing her arms sheepishly.
"I remember you," Orion said, remaining on his knee. "From the tunnels."
The thing trembled.
His frown suddenly deepened. "You are with the Autobots."
"Oh, no, please don't tell..." the little thing backed away. "Please, I'm not an enemy; I just want to talk to you."
Orion considered her for a moment, wondering if he should sound the alarms.
But the little creature seemed so afraid, and looked at him with such desperate fervor that he felt she needed to be protected rather than exposed.
Besides, she was so small that she probably couldn't hurt him too badly, even if she tried.
Orion, being the curious sort who didn't like to make a scene, opted to talk to her instead - at least until she did something violent.
The archivist tilted his head as he peered at her armor. "Are you a Minicon?"
She seemed confused. "What? Oh, the armor."
As he watched, her outer plating shifted and slid away, starting at the feet and ending with the head, revealing a flesh-colored, strange-looking face, with a short braid of hair trailing down her sweater and glittering green-brown eyes.
"I'm a human, from this planet," she said, hesitating. "I ... guess you've never seen one of us before."
"Only in diagrams," he answered truthfully. He had spent quite a lot of time researching the things this planet had to offer, as a sort of distraction from the fate of his own. This little creature was just as fascinating as he imagined.
Shrinking away from his probing gaze, the human regarded him in silence, waiting to see what he would do. Orion could tell she was even more skittish without her armor. This puzzled him. She bore the Autobot symbol on her armor, and yet she seemed much too fearful to be a spy...
Giving a small smile, he offered a forefinger to her. "I am Orion Pax."
Haltingly, she took it in her tiny hands. "I'm Nova."
Orion's eyes widened. Human hands were very warm.
"You told me that you were not an enemy," he continued, leaning back a little to give her space. "You mean Lord Megatron no harm?"
A pained look flashed over her face, but she recovered quickly.
"Not really," she answered, shooting furtive glances at the door. "I'm just here for you."
"For me?" Orion blinked. "But ... why? I am no one of importance."
Her eyes darted up to meet his, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Could we talk over there? If someone comes in..."
"Oh. Of course," Orion replied, glancing around the room. "We can speak by the monitor."
After a moment's hesitation, he slowly offered her his open hand. "... Do you…"
"Yes." Nova stepped into his hand. "Thanks."
"Now," he began, letting her step onto his keyboard. "What did you wish to speak to me about? And how did you know my name?"
The human took in a breath. "I used to know you ... a long time ago."
Orion shook his head. "That is not possible. I have never been to this planet."
"I know. The fact is, Optim — I mean, Orion, I am about to say something that you won't believe, but I want you to hear me out."
He nodded, waiting patiently.
The human took another deep breath, about to launch into her tale, but the door slid open before she could speak.
Orion spun around, guilt written all over his face, and Nova immediately slid off the keypad and dropped to the floor, ducking behind her guardian's foot.
The last person either of them expected to see walked into the room, four large Energon cubes stacked in his skinny arms.
Starscream?!
The cubes initially hid Orion and Nova from Starscream's view, but once the rogue Decepticon had gotten his bearings and realized who stood before him, he choked out a gasp of surprise.
"No!" he cried. "Optimus Prime?!"
Dropping the cubes, the former lieutenant raised his hands and leveled his arm-rockets directly at the helpless archivist, who froze in his tracks. Nova held her ears, her armor locking around her body in anticipation of the fiery blast.
"Please," Orion said, raising his hands quickly. "I mean no harm."
"Oh?!" Starscream shot back, his rockets still trained on the Prime. "Then… what are you doing here?!"
"Research," replied he. "For Lord Megatron."
Starscream did not lower his arms. "Is this some kind of joke?!"
"I do not understand," Orion stated. The innocence on his face was indisputable. Nova's heart raced in her chest. What was stopping Starscream from killing him where he stood?
Stunned, Starscream realized that the Prime did not intend to fight, and he lowered his blasters with a gaping face.
"And why did you call me… Optimus Prime?" inquired the archivist.
"Uh… why wouldn't I?" Starscream asked, choosing his words carefully.
"Because my name is Orion Pax," the clerk responded humbly. "I am ... far from being a Prime."
The rogue Decepticon glanced at the Decepticon insignia adorning the shoulder of his former enemy and scrambled for a response.
To his credit, he was excellent at improvisation.
"Uh, you reminded me of someone I once knew, that's all," he lied easily.
Her eyes on the vent, Nova emerged from behind Optimus' foot, but immediately as Starscream caught sight of her, he raised his blaster again.
"What?! We have that vermin on board, too?!"
Nova froze. But Orion reached down to shield her with his hand. If Nova had been in the mood to think about such things, she would have noticed his sudden, almost angry, burst of courage. This was something Optimus Prime would do.
"Do not fire," he said in a supplicating manner. "She means no harm."
He stared the rogue Decepticon down until Starscream deactivated his blaster, and they all stood quietly again. Shaking, Nova returned to her spot behind the archivist. For the moment, she was safe with him.
"You are Starscream," Orion observed.
"Yes…" he replied, his face twisted in disbelief.
"Lord Megatron told me you had been — terminated."
Starscream smirked. "Lord Megatron says many things, only some of which are true."
Nova raised her eyebrows in agreement, but the archivist found this information hard to accept.
"You do not suggest that our leader would speak ... falsehoods?" he questioned incredulously.
Starscream let loose a cackle of amusement. "Oh, you truly are being kept in the dark, aren't you?"
Emboldened by her guardian's strength, Nova shot Starscream a look, the expression on her face enough to convince the rogue that lying to the amnesiac right now would be very unwise.
"You speak in many riddles, Starscream," Orion said desperately. "Please, tell me what it is that you know!"
"And… in return?" The greedy Decepticon could not let an opportunity like this pass up.
Before Optimus could answer, the door clanked open again, and there stood the two Vehicons who had apprehended Optimus before.
"Starscream!" They whipped out their blasters. "Surrender!"
Shrieking, Starscream ducked behind Orion in a panic, using him as a living shield as the archivist drew back. Nova scuttled away amid the chaos, sliding into the vent shaft and slamming the grate back into place.
"Hold your fire!" Orion said, then felt his back shoved down by the Decepticon behind him as Starscream transformed into his jet form and blasted out of the room, his afterburner smoke lingering in the dark air.
"Remain in the lab," one of the Vehicons ordered as the disappearing jet rounded the corner.
Orion protested. "But I—"
"Lord Megatron's orders."
The door locked behind them as they departed, and Orion was again left alone.
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Sounds of laser fire and distant explosions reverberated again through the walls as Nova pushed the grate out of its spot and rejoined her friend.
When Orion spotted her, he knelt again.
"Are you all right?" he inquired.
"Yeah. You?"
"I am fine," Orion mumbled with a preoccupied expression. Nova could tell he was having trouble sorting things out.
"Sorry I left you," she apologized. "But if anyone found out I was here, they would kill me."
"It is… it is all right, I think," he said, obviously conflicted. "I do not know what to make of all this."
"Well," Nova sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but Starscream was telling the truth for once. Megatron is lying to you."
Orion gave a slow nod. "I do not disagree. But why would Megatronus — I mean..." he sighed. "Why would Megatron inform me that Starscream had been terminated in the first place? What reason would he have to lie?"
"Because he's not getting his stories straight," said the half-spark. "He's trying to cover everything up. A few months ago, Starscream defected from the Decepticons and asked to join the Autobots. Nobody's heard from him since. "
Optimus tilted his head. "Megatron may have been unaware that Starscream was alive. The two of them have a rather… unfriendly relationship. Perhaps Megatron was only mistaken."
She sighed. "I know you want to believe he's your friend, Optim— Orion. But trust me, Megatron's lying. He tortured me for information. He almost killed your best friends. He ripped out a kid's voicebox. One time, he even tried to take over the world with an army of zombies."
Orion raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Look, if I can just show you…" Nova hopped down to the computer, placed her hand on the main keypad, and scrolled through the various data files of the warship. Thank goodness Ratchet taught her to read basic computer commands.
"It's not here," she growled after a few minutes. "They must have deleted the footage. Fantastic."
"I do not understand any of this," Orion confessed. "Both you and Starscream have told me that Megatron is falsifying information, but he… he showed me Cybertron."
Nova pulled in her breath. "Cybertron is dead. But Ratchet's not responsible for that — don't you know Ratchet at all?"
Orion glanced to the side. "I ... thought I did."
"You do!" Nova insisted. "I promise, you do. Ratchet's good. I've seen him fix you up many times, keeping you alive. Right now, he's probably losing his mind. He's working as hard as he can to get you out of this… this awful, awful place..." She clenched her fists. "Don't you believe me?"
Orion sighed. "I do not know who to believe. You have both told me things that I do not remember."
Nova twisted her fingers, backing away. "Are you going to turn me in?"
Orion Pax was silent for a moment.
"No," he replied at last. "I do not understand why Megatron would lie to me, but something does not feel right."
He got to his feet, looking down at her. "And it is odd..."
"What?"
"I feel that I must protect you, even though you are my enemy." He put a hand to his chest, rubbing it lightly. "Something... something about you-"
"Orion." The door slid open, sending Nova flying for the grate, and Megatron strode in just as the archivist assumed a natural position at his computer.
"I am so sorry for the recent commotion," he declared, looking him over. "You were not in any way harmed, were you?"
Miraculously, Orion managed to keep a straight face.
"No, Lord Megatron," he responded. "But ... why did you tell me that Starscream was dead?"
"Because he is dead to our cause," the warlord responded, brushing past the archivist pompously and folding his hands behind his back. "Starscream was my most trusted lieutenant until he turned traitor and joined the Autobots."
He turned back to the levelheaded Orion with an air of disgust. "Never have I witnessed a more profound act of deceit!"
Orion stared at him.
Watching from the vents, Nova dared not breathe as Megatron tried to read him.
After a second, the warlord continued in a voice that dripped with concern. "He did not… do or say anything troubling to you?"
Orion held his gaze. "No."
After a short pause, Megatron withdrew his searching stare. "Good. Perhaps it's best to forget the entire incident and return to your project."
"As you wish, my lord," Orion said calmly as the door shut behind Megatron with a snap.
Within the tunnel, Nova let out her breath in relief. Something inside Orion Pax had retained enough compassion and understanding to ensure her safety.
Suddenly, she heard a sinister voice at the end of the hallway. Curious, she crept silently through the long tunnel until the noise of Megatron stopped her in her tracks.
No sudden moves.
Don't make a sound.
"Orion was never very adept at the art of deception," the warlord said to someone, probably Soundwave, judging from the lack of response. "I made a mistake not terminating Starscream while I had the opportunity — a mistake I do not intend to make again!"
He knows... Nova realized once they had gone.
This time, she did kick the vent — hard. I knew it was too easy!
"Nova?" A quiet voice called her name from the other end of the shaft. "Are you there?"
She scrambled back to the grate and emerged again into the workroom.
"I'm here," she said, leaning her elbows on the floor as her legs dangled down into the duct. "Why didn't you give me away? If he finds out you've been hiding me, Lord Megatron might punish you or something."
"I have decided that, until further evidence proves otherwise, I must search very carefully for the truth before I address him as Lord Megatron again," he said quietly, pulling her out from the hole and holding her in his palm.
He studied the half-spark curiously. "Why did Starscream call you a vermin?"
"Because he's rude."
"But he recognized you," insisted Orion. "Do the Autobots actually let you fight people like me?"
Nova shrugged. "Sometimes."
"But... you are so small," Orion protested, indicating her size with his fingers. "And according to my research, you are a young human. Do the Autobots send children to fight for them?"
"You don't have to be big and strong to make a difference," Nova replied. "You just have to do what's right. That's why I'm on this warship."
He tilted his head, trying to sort this out. "So... they sent you here because you are small?"
"Well, technically, they don't know that I'm here at all," she sighed as he put her down onto the keypad again. "In fact, I don't think they know I'm alive."
Optimus frowned. "Why would someone like you do something so dangerous?"
"Because I promised," she replied. "I promised I wouldn't go home without you. I need you."
"But I am nobody," he protested. "I am nothing but a simple archivist, confused and lost and unsure of my own will. I have never done anything great, and yet you are risking your life to tell me these things. How — how could you do something like that for me?"
The human cocked her head. "Because you're Optimus Prime, and you would do the same for me."
"I don't know what to do," he sighed in frustration, turning to the computer. "I — I need to research. I need to find out why no one has matching stories."
He set his hands down to type, but his fingers were blocked by the half-spark, who still stood in the middle of his keypad.
After studying one another for a minute, the girl raised her arms towards him, questioning eyes locked with his.
Orion drew back a little as he realized what she wanted. "Um..."
Taken aback, Nova lowered her arms a fraction, her eyes falling. "Sorry—"
But the archivist interrupted her with a hand behind her back, scooping her up gently and lifting her to his shoulder.
Elated, Nova hopped off his hand and settled into her spot, letting out a happy sigh.
Again, Orion was nagged by a vague reassurance that her presence was strangely familiar — that it was supposed to be this way — as his fingertips hovered over the keyboard.
"Okay," he exhaled, beginning to type. "Optimus… Prime."
The only result that came up was an image of a Cybertronian Nova did not recognizee. She tilted her head, staring at it with narrowed eyes.
"Never seen him before," she denied flatly.
Orion exhaled again, shakily, as he began to read the biography attached to the image. "'Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobot invaders.'"
He studied the image again. "I reminded Starscream of him?"
Nova shrugged. It certainly didn't look like any image of Optimus that she had ever seen.
" And Lord Megatron said Ratchet was the Autobot leader." The archivist frowned. "Someone is not telling the truth."
"It could be an encrypted file," Nova suggested. "Megatron told Soundwave to purge the data core before you started working."
"I will try to bypass it."
Orion began to type again, faster, more sure of himself, and Nova rested her head against the inside of his shoulder in fatigue. She had not slept in a while.
"My apologies." Orion halted. "Are you injured?"
"Just recovering," she said wearily. "We found you in the body of Unicron, you know."
"Unicron?" The archivist shook his head in disbelief. "There is so much I do not understand about your words."
"Don't worry," she said, nestling into the familiar space on his shoulder. "You'll figure it out."
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