Chapter Six

No sooner had Optimus Prime stepped out of the shuttle than Kup practically jumped at him. It was no less than the Autobot leader had expected, and he breathed a silent sigh. "Just what in the Pit did you think you were doing, making off with a shuttle like that?" the security officer ranted. "And threatening that tech, to boot! Have you gone completely mad?"

'Thank you, Kup, for questioning my judgment in front of your security staff,' Optimus thought irritably, noticing how Kup's underlings followed the exchange with open mouths. He should know better! Exchanges such as this were best kept behind closed doors. Kup, in his anger, did not stop to realize how this could undermine the others' trust in Prime. Rodimus questioned the senior Prime's decisions on a regular basis, and sometimes their arguments got quite heated, but it never left the sanctity of their office. There was a time and a place to discuss such issues, and this was neither. Aloud, Optimus said merely, "It could not be helped, Kup. Time was of the essence."

"Just where were you going that warranted such a big rush?" Kup snarled, sounding like a petulant boy whose favorite toy had been taken away. Optimus knew that he was just doing his job, but he most certainly did not like his methods. Later, when this had all blown over, they would have a serious talk. He still felt a touch of anger at Kup's threatened court-martial several years ago. It would take more time before he could face Kup with anything more than cool civility.

Optimus spared a glance back at the craft as Kup steered him out of the shuttle bay. His security force was already entering it, no doubt downloading and analyzing the flight log. "I think you'll have that answer soon enough."

"Dammit, what is *wrong* with you, Prime? This isn't like you at all!" Now Kup looked genuinely worried. "What is going on?"

Optimus stopped in his tracks and fixed Kup with a long, searching look. Finally, he confessed, "Rodimus is possessed."

"How? By what?" Kup was gaping. He knew better than to say it, but from his leader's recent actions, it seemed more likely that Optimus himself was possessed.

Prime shook his head. "I don't know. But I do know that it is malevolent and will do serious damage if it isn't stopped."

The aged security chief clearly thought that Optimus had flipped his lid. "How do you intend to do that? By walking up and asking it to leave? Or can the Matrix defeat this thing?"

Prime knew better than to tell the ever-judgmental Kup about the Matrix's current whereabouts. "I'm not sure I can do much at all. But I've got to try! I can't leave Rodimus in that thing's clutches. Perhaps Rodimus will be able to fight it from within. No matter what, I've got to save him. Now tell me, Kup, where is he?"

Scowling to show his opinion of the whole harebrained "plan", Kup pulled out a small data pad and consulted it. It was tied in directly to Teletran Three, which could pinpoint the location of any Autobot within Iacon's walls. "He's in the training room, Prime. Doesn't seem to be doing anything in particular, though."

Optimus shook his head grimly. The thing was waiting for him. He would face it alone, to eliminate the risk of injury to anyone else. "I'm going to take care of this situation right now. I need you to blockade the corridors around the training room and make sure that no one goes near it, and that Rodimus does not try to escape from Iacon until this creature has been purged from his systems." He turned and left, ignoring the words that were trying to splutter from Kup's vocalizer. This was his private mission, and no one else could intervene.

He kept his thoughts neutral as he approached the training room, not wanting to give whatever-it-was any more information than it already had. A numb hand operated the door mechanism, and he stepped warily inside, fearful of what he might find. To his relief, he saw that Rodimus was merely standing there, the holo-projectors that could create any scenario standing inactive. It chuckled merrily as he approached, but the sound grated on his sensors, sending a chill through him. "I knew you would return, Optimus Prime. You are quite predictable. You would never abandon your young friend."

Optimus cast the Rodimus-body a scornful look. "I have loyalties, yes. Now leave Rodimus alone. He doesn't deserve what you've done to him!"

The Rodimus-body roared in laughter. "That makes it all the better!" Then, faster than the optic could see, he whipped his rifle from subspace and fired.

Optimus ducked and rolled, easily avoiding the shot through millions of years of training. "Don't make me fight you!" he growled. He had gone through this scenario before, when Rodimus was infected with the Hate Plague. This was the same situation – Rodimus was not in control of himself, and Optimus needed to bring him down before he hurt someone. Then, as now, he was at a decisive disadvantage. He did not wish to harm Rodimus, but Roddy could most certainly harm him.

Tossing the rifle aside with a scream, Rodimus attacked. Optimus ducked the punch aimed for his head but did not see the second one, and it connected solidly with his midsection. Pain burst from the impact, but he ignored it and knocked Rodimus away from him, giving him the scant seconds he needed to recover. When the red and orange Autobot attacked again, Prime was ready, kicking at Roddy's legs and spilling his attacker to the floor. He then dropped an elbow on Roddy's exposed back, wincing sympathetically as his friend cried out in pain. 'Don't fall for it!' he warned himself. 'It's trying to manipulate you into feeling sympathy!' He had to incapacitate Rodimus as quickly and painlessly as possible. But given Roddy's extensive training and battle savvy, this would not be an easy task.

Rodimus reached out for his leg and yanked, throwing the red and blue Autobot off-balance. His arms pinwheeled, and he fell to the floor with a loud and painful clang. Roddy was on him in an instant, one hand squeezing his neck as the second raked at his optics, in an eerie imitation of Megatron's attack that day at Autobot City where Optimus had lost his life. Prime caught the hand at his face and wrenched it at a brutal angle, causing its owner to scream in agony and let go of his throat. This being, now that it had occupied Rodimus' structure, was now attached to his pain sensors. It might enjoy inflicting pain, but it didn't seem to enjoy experiencing it much. But every successful blow hurt Optimus just as much, for he knew that Rodimus was still inside somewhere, feeling the pain that he was delivering.

Instead of attacking him by hand again, Rodimus surprised him by darting to the far wall, where a vast array of weapons from across the galaxy were displayed. Grabbing a Klingon bat'leth, he began to swing it around him in a deadly circle, stepping as graceful as a dancer. Optimus edged towards the wall warily, noting with half-surprise, half-dread that the creature was allowing him to select a weapon of his own. He grabbed a second bat'leth, turning it over and over in his hands, holding the curved area close to his body as the sharp bladed prongs faced his adversary, his closest friend. Rodimus had learned this deadly yet nearly artistic form of combat on some distant Klingon outpost, in exchange for some detailed star chart. In turn, Rodimus had taught the skill to Optimus, a fact that was not lost on the elder Autobot now. He did not rate his chances very highly.

Rodimus thrust the sharpened blade and Optimus parried neatly with his own, repelling the attack. He could see that the blade was sharpened to a keen edge and could easily penetrate even the thick armor plating of a Transformer. He stepped to the side, brought the weapon up in a half-arc, then struck out. Rodimus anticipated the move and blocked it, then abruptly sliced down. Prime dodged but still caught the tip of the leftmost prong in his right hip and thigh. The predatory grin on his friend's face sickened him – that thing was no doubt feeling his pain through the Matrix link and was enjoying it! He blocked it as best he could, knowing that the link would be unaffected by the absence of the Matrix itself.

A soft cutting of air reached his audials, and he ducked, the tip of his left audial receiver neatly severed. This was not going well at all! He noticed, with a sort of bitter satisfaction, that Rodimus was no longer twisting the blade with as much ease as before, due to his wrenched right arm. Hating himself deep down, he pressed the advantage, taking swing after swing at Roddy's right side, forcing him to work the injured arm harder to defend himself. Some tricky maneuvering placed Optimus just in the reach of an extended strike, and Rodimus obliged him nicely. Prime stepped gracefully backward as Roddy overextended his injured arm, crying out as muscle cables were stretched painfully beyond their scope of movement. The elder Autobot swiftly kicked the bat'leth out of his friend's grasp and struck out with his own, impaling Rodimus in the chest with the sharp blades. It was a calculated blow, enough to incapacitate his opponent to the point of shutdown, but not deep enough to seriously injure him.

Optimus approached his felled friend, remorse coloring his features. It was done. Now he would have to restrain Rodimus before he awoke. Then and only then could he concentrate on how to separate this vampire-creature from his beloved friend. He knelt and took Roddy's head gently in his own. "I'm sorry," he whispered, allowing the guilt to wash over him unabated.

The link stirred, and Roddy's voice frantically screamed through it, "Optimus, NO, it's a trick! It's YOU it wants!"

Optimus recoiled and tried to back up, but the Rodimus-body powered its optics up swiftly, a twisted grin of triumph marring the beauty of Roddy's face. "Fooled you!" it cried, then delivered a mighty, debilitating blow to the back of the elder Autobot leader's head. Prime slumped to the ground, the world around him fading to black, aware of nothing but the scream of horror that traveled through the link.

Megatron suddenly stiffened in his command chair, his fusion cannon and polishing rag falling to the floor unnoticed. An urgent, frantic pulsing was emanating from his chest! Something was pulling him, urging him on, beckoning him. There was trouble!

"The Matrix!" he gasped. It was communicating with him! Something must have gone terribly wrong on Cyberton, and Optimus Prime was in danger! But what did he care? Optimus was no friend of his, though after so many years of studying his adversary and learning how he thought, it seemed that he knew Optimus quite well.

Again the Matrix swelled with urgency, filling every one of Megatron's circuits with a frantic need to act. He tried to stifle the sensation. He was Megatron, the greatest Decepticon of all, and this glowing ball meant nothing to him, save a means to wrest control of Cybertron from the Autobots! But he knew that he could not control it. Only Optimus and that whelp Rodimus could. He had the horrible gnawing sensation that he would need both of them alive. Why, he could scarcely say, and could not rationalize it, no matter how hard he tried. Well, he told himself lamely, it would not do for anyone else to kill Optimus Prime, would it? That was his pleasure, and his alone! "Cyclonus, Soundwave, prep that stolen Autobot shuttle! We are going to pay Cybertron a little visit!"