Chapter 2

Sentinel Prime barreled down the halls of the Metroplex with reckless abandon, nearly striking several staff members who were just going about their business. His mission was clear and his destination was set. By now, Megatron and his decepticon flunkies must've been in the maximum security wing awaiting transport to this special cell councilman Kup had made to hold them until a proper trial was made. That meant that this was Sentinel's one and only chance to pump Megatron for information on his followers' whereabouts. Before the Omega Supreme sighting several mega cycles ago, a number of decepticon teams had invaded space bridge points, awaiting the traitor Longarm, aka Shockwave, to let them in for a full scale invasion. By Sentinel's guess, they had all gone into hiding per Megatron's orders as he tried to get Omega to work for him. If Sentinel could ferret them out and bring them all back in stasis cuffs, then who cared that Optimus brought back one or two measly decepticons; Sentinel would have the entire army on his wings, and then they'd have to make him Magnus.

He came to a stop just outside the security doors to the maximum security wing, and he entered his credentials into the door panel. To his surprise, the door buzzed at him, signaling that he was unauthorized. He tried again, and then again, but each attempt led to the same result. He sneered, and then he switched on his communicator.

"Sentinel Prime to Cliffjumper. Some sort of glitch is barring my access to the secure max wing! I need a troubleshoot."

There was a brief blur of static before Cliffjumper's voice echoed through his radio.

"I'm afraid it is no glitch, sir. In lieu of our newest prisoner, Defense administrator Kup has reset all of our security codes and personally wired access to himself and those deemed essential to Megatron's containment."

"And who would be more essential than me?!" Sentinel snapped. "I'm the acting Magnus!"

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Yeah." Cliffjumper muttered softly. "About that…"

A chill funneled up from Sentinel's chassis unlike any he had ever experienced. It was the purest form of dread only experienced by one that flew up to the sun, and they had been grievously burned.

"What's going on, soldier?" he demanded.

"I was trying to find the best way to tell you, sir." Cliffjumper insisted. "Due to the potential dismissal of the war as a whole, the council decided to take full authority and command of the coming proceedings. All political, militaristic, and judicial functions are to be dealt with by the council and the council only."

Sentinel's optics blazed with rage. Alpha Trion, that rusted crankshaft! This was his doing, it had to be.

"That's outrageous! They can't possibly have the authority to…"

"With all due respect, sir," Cliffjumper cut in, "it was the council that gave you your own authority as acting Magnus. Thus, it stands to reason they could just as swiftly take it away if they felt it necessary. I'm only the messenger, sir."

"And I may shoot you anyway!" Sentinel snapped, cutting the connection.

He kicked the main security door before transforming and taking off down the hall once more. He didn't stop until he reached the council chamber, barreling through the door as a bot had tried to step out. Council members Kup and Perceptor were just stepping down from their seats when Sentinel burst in, transforming and making his presence known. Standing with Perceptor was Kup and Botanica. Since Highbrow's death during the Great War following Omega's activation, Kup had taken over all things military courtesy of the experience afforded to him by his long military career with multiple campaigns under his drive shaft. Botanica, on the other hand, was fairly new, and rather disgusting. She had been discovered by Alpha Trion a long time ago, finding that she and her team of explorers had been stranded on a planet of sentient plants. Botanica assimilated one of the specimens for an alt-mode, which only made Sentinel sick. Sure, she was full metal, but the fact she was so taken by organics of any sort was nauseating. What was worse, she was put in charge of colonization and expansion, spreading her organic hugging to any that would listen. To make it all more wretching, it was her that noted his arrival.

"Oh my," she said, feigning shock, "it would appear we have visitors."

"More like a mouthy show off what don't know how to use a doorbell." Growled Kup, who arose from his seat. "Son, you'd better have a darn slaggin' good reason for just barging in. We've important work to do without having to hear you whine like a scraplet with a toothache."

"Stow it, old bot!" Sentinel snapped, making Kup scowl. "I want to know why my command has been stripped. You seriously think we can try Megatron without a proper Magnus? We'll be the laughing stock of the entire galaxy."

"It was the logical route to take." Perceptor droned in his usual monotone. "Given the delicate nature of our current circumstances, we must tread carefully so as put an end to this war with as minimal energon shed as possible."

"You want an end to this war?" Sentinel growled. "Give me five micro cycles with Megatron. I'll get him to spill the energon on his troop locations and…"

"That will not be necessary." Botanica cut in. "Megatron's last orders according to information acquired by Cliffjumper's masterful decryption skills was that all decepticon forces are to remain in hiding until hailed by Megatron himself. Likely this was when Megatron still had Omega and was poised to come storming in on our biggest weapon. Ergo, it would just be a waste of manpower and resources to go and hunt them down. We have Megatron, the head of the snake. With him gone, the decepticons will have no direction, and in turn can be picked off one at a time. No need to use a hammer when a scalpel will do."

"But…" Sentinel started, only for Kup to raise his hand for silence.

"This is for the good of all, son." He assured him. "We have to handle this carefully and efficiently. This isn't the time for one bot shows or flash jobs. You'll be of better service working with the security staff rather than beating your head against a wall, which is all you'd be doing with Megatron. He ain't gonna talk to you. In fact, he's made it pointedly clear that he won't talk to anybody save one."

"And who in the name of the Allspark is that?" Sentinel demanded.

"The bot that defeated him."

……………………….

Optimus breathed a sigh of relief as they entered the Iacon hall of records. In his youth, this had been his home away from home. A place where he could lose himself in the history of their ancestors and revel in their people's many mysteries. Just walking through the old archway, holographic depictions of Prima and Liege Maximo crossing swords overhead, filled him with immense nostalgia and a longing for the way things had once been. But for little Sari Sumdac, it was a similar but opposite sensation. For her, everything was very new and fantastical, and she wanted to experience every little bit of it all. She zipped this way and that, marveling at the colossal walls of holographic disk storage cases, each of which held entire libraries worth of information within. She buzzed this way and that on her jet pack, trying to find a place to start as Bumblebee and Bulkhead followed closely behind.

"I envy your little friend, Optimus." Alpha Trion chuckled as he watched the little girl go about herself. "I've all but internalized these dusty gigs into my memory circuits. Oh, to look upon them again with fresh optics."

"I'm glad Sari's as enthusiastic as always." Optimus chuckled. "After all, this is just as much her own history as ours, and I think this will do her some much needed good. A chance to finally unwind after the whirlwind of a year this has been."

"Year?" Alpha Trion inquired.

"Oh, sorry." Optimus replied sheepishly. "That's an earth term. Essentially, it's the same span of time as a stellar cycle."

"Fascinating." Alpha Trion chirped, cupping his chin thoughtfully. "Botanica has been trying to expand our sphere of knowledge gathering to other cultures. Perhaps there is some merit to her work."

"Botanica, sir?" Optimus asked.

"A new member of the council. I do believe she assumed her position shortly after your dismissal from the academy. As I recall, you were actually in the running for that very spot."

There was an odd shift in the conversation, Optimus realized.

"You…don't say?"

"Optimus, I believe you and I have matters to discuss. Alone, if you please."

Before Optimus could even think to refuse, Alpha Trion rested a hand on his shoulder and quietly guided him away. This left the rest of Team Prime to their own devices, exploring the large archive and its many treasures. Elita found a collection on the various expansions and exploration efforts of cybertronians past, and she and Ratchet poured over them side by side, though it should be noted that Ratchet's attention was…elsewhere. As for the youngsters of the group, Sari couldn't sit still long enough to read much of anything. Her brain just couldn't fathom just how much knowledge lay out before her. Her cyber-kinetic abilities allowed her to assimilate knowledge merely from touch, but all it did was give her information without context, and it would require her to all but start from the beginning and move on just to understand the index. Sari was far too impatient for something like that, and she zipped her way through until they came to the more artistic wing of the archive. Here they found several statues depicting Cybertron's ancient leaders. Regal bots sculpted from metal that stood erect and proud, one just as fantastic to look at as the next, and Sari just couldn't stop herself. Bumblebee, on the other hand, was bored.

"Geez, I hate going to museums. Nothing but dusty books and old bots with dirty looks."

He looked up at a particular statue of the warlord Bludgeon, a monstrous deviant who, despite fighting for the autobots, was known for his brutal and villainous actions that had him disbarred and eventually banished to the farthest reaches of space.

"Some more than others, I guess."

"Yeah, I feel ya, little buddy." Bulkhead rumbled. "Seriously, I get they were going for still life, but you call this art? A four-year-old's finger paintings look more appealing than these so called works of art. If I had my paint and easel, I'd really lighten this joint up with color."

Bumblebee rolled his optics. He had forgotten that Bulkhead had been swept up by earth art styles and creativity. Bumblebee had never been able to grasp it himself, but, then again, he wasn't an artist, so what did he know.

"Come on, BH and BB, don't be buggin'." Jazz chirped. "Look at it this way. Pretty soon it'll be your mugs what grace these halls. You feelin' me?"

Bumblebee suddenly perked up.

"Hey, that's right! We took down Megatron, which means they're probably gonna immortalize us as statues for future generations."

He turned to Bulkhead.

"You know, buddy, this could be a great art project for you. You've not really worked in sculptures too much, but I'll bet you could make something that could really catch my speedy good looks."

"Hey, yeah!" Bulkhead exclaimed, suddenly excited. "It could be my magnum opus! Oh, I definitely gotta do this, but what should I use? Bronze is just done too much, titanium is an ugly color, and don't even get me started on iron…"

Figured that'd change those twos' tunes, Jazz thought to himself with a grin. He stepped around them and followed after Sari, not wanting her to wander where she wouldn't be wanted. Suddenly, he heard her gave a shriek of fright, and he took off like a shot. He found her hiding behind a statue, optics wide and staring.

"J-j-jazz!" she stammered as she pointed. "The statue! It's alive!"

Jazz followed her finger and brandished his electro nunchakus. However, when he spied her "living statue", he immediately relaxed. The statue in question resembled a very, very, very old autobot, and if one listened closely the could hear a system of pulleys, levers, and clockwork parts working to keep the old rig running. He certainly belong in a museum, but this was no mere exhibit.

"Chill, girl. He's one of ours."

Jazz approached the statue, and he rapped his knuckle against its head.

"Yo! Old man Vector, wake up!"

It was then that Sari realized the odd noise what had originally drawn her attention to the statue had in fact been snoring, which was suddenly ended when the bot looked up.

"Huh? Oh, Jazz, it's you!"

The old bot stepped down from the empty pedestal and stretched, his gears creaking and groaning in protest as they assumed positions they were long since disused to.

"Great clocks, how long was I out? I swear, I need to remember to recharge on my off hours. This can't be healthy."

The old bot then spied Sari with a bit of squinting, and he cocked his head.

"Oh my, has the archive become infested." He gasped in alarm.

"Nah, V, chill!" Jazz said. "Sari's perfectly harmless. Less'n you're a con, that is. She's from earth."

Jazz turned to the girl, and he gestured to the elder.

"Sari girl, this here is the genuine article, Vector Prime. You wanna know something about the archive, then you talk to him, because he's been around since it was built, and at least half of the records were recorded by him personally."

Sari's eyes nearly bulged out of her head, and she quickly zipped over to face Vector Prime.

"Woah, is that the truth? I've like an infinite number of questions about some stuff I read, and I would really like to know what this budding thing I heard about it."

Vector was momentarily stunned by the tiny creature's forwardness, but at the same time he was flattered that she desired knowledge. As chief archivist, who was he to deny a wandering soul thirsting for information.

"You may be a tad too young to know the basics on budding, my dear." He said softly, minding her smaller ears. "But any and all other questions I would be more than happy to…"

Suddenly, there was a noisy commotion that drew the three's attention. Bumblebee had started shooting lighting from his stingers as Bulkhead swung his wrecking balls, both trying to hit a fast moving object. Said object appeared to be a red, white, and blue jet, and despite its large size it effortlessly avoided their attacks.

"A con?" Jazz gasped. "In the archives? Sit tight, old timer, I'll deal with this. Sari, stay with Vector."

"Wait, Jazz!" Vector Prime exclaimed, but Jazz had already taken off, transforming into vehicle mode and driving up a ramp to the next level.

He continued to rise from one story to the next, not stopping until he was a certain height just above the flying bot. He morphed back into robot mode, took a starting position from the side rail, and then he leapt down and landed right on top of the jet.

"License and registration, sucka!"

He slammed his fist down against the nose cone of the jet, and it pitched downwards to the bottom floor. As Jazz leapt off, letting the jet crash alone, it assumed a tall robot mode, which in turn turned and fled.

"He's making a break for it!" Bumblebee exclaimed. "I got him!"

Bumblebee fell on his back, letting the wheels on his shoulders and feet spin as he propelled himself forward. He crashed into the robot's legs, and Bulkhead followed up by smashing him with a well placed wrecking ball punch. The bot landed in a heap against one of the walls of records, numerous laser disks burying him, and as he tried to stand Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and Jazz all came running towards him.

"Alright, that's enough!" Vector Sigma exclaimed.

He raced forward, drawing the sword at his hilt and then raising it up over his head.

"Time out!"

The sword began to glow with a ghostly green light, and then all at once Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and Jazz seemed to hang in the air. The electricity of Bumblebee's stingers had even stopped short, the energy wave just standing there a square inch away from the flyer bot's face.The mech stared at the once incoming projected tepidly, but when it became clear he wouldn't be struck he relaxed.

"Thank you, Master." He said with relief. "I thought I'd punched my ticket for sure that time."

"Someone certainly deserves to be punched." Vector Prime growled as he helped him to his feet. "Are you sure you're unharmed?"

"Mostly just dinged." The bot assured him before scowling at the pile of holo disks. "Of course that doesn't go for the Quintesson era collection, which I had just finished putting into chronological order. Sparks alive, it'll take me megacycles to just do it all again."

Vector Prime grinned.

"Well, we simply can't have that. Allow me, my friend."

Once more, Vector Prime raised his sword, and once more it alit with emerald light. Then, like magic, they began to pile back onto the shelf in the exact order they had fallen. Soon, the mess was cleared, and even the bot's dings had been undone for good measure.

"I'll never get used to that." He mused, rubbing his arm tentatively. "Master, not to sound ungrateful, but is that really a practical use for the Temporal Sword?"

Vector Prime laughed.

"It'll merely be a relic gathering dust if I don't use it. After all, what good is a tool if you never use it for its intended purpose?"

"Ok, hold on!" Sari cut in, zipping between the two. "What's all this about, Vector? I mean, I can see the insignia, this guy's a decepticon? Also, what did you do to Bumblebee and those books?"

"Peace be, child." Vector Prime said softly. "They are fine. Merely frozen in a moment courtesy of the Temporal Sword, a relic from Cybertron's ancient past. With it, I can pause, rewind, and even accelerate time, but only within a given space. I'm one of the few bots that a can wield it do to the immense focus required as well as my greater understanding of time itself."

He gestured to the bot.

"As for my friend here, he was a decepticon, but no longer. Now he is simply a quirk under my tutelage. Starsaber, I'd like to introduce you to Sari. She is a techno-organic from the planet earth."

"A pleasure." Starsaber said with a nod. "A fellow techno-organic, eh?"

Sari cocked her head.

"Fellow techno-organic? You look full robot to me."

Starsaber's optics jumped.

"Oops! Sorry, I didn't mean me."

He looked around, and he cupped a hand to his mouth plate.

"Jan? Jan! Where are you?"

A moment later, a small shape came sliding down the banister aboard a hoverboard. At first glance, he looked like a miniature Starsaber, but upon closer inspection Sari could make out the fate shape of brown, spiky hair poking from his helmet. The boy came to a stop, hovering in front of Sari. The two stared at one another in amazement, and Starsaber chuckled.

"See, half-pint? I told you that there were more out there. Miss Sari, this is my ward, Jan."

The two half bots stared at one another, both too dumbfounded to speak. Floored was one word to describe Sari's feelings as she had never expected there to be another quite like her. Then again, now that she thought about it, there were multiple protoforms discovered following Megatron's defeat.. Most were missing thanks to Starscream's cloning, but perhaps it was possible another had come into contact with something organic. Still, the fact that lightning had struck seemingly twice was beyond words. After some time, Starsaber gently pat Jan on the back with a finger.

"Jan, why don't you show Sari to the Green Room? I think she'll be much more comfortable there."

Jan blinked before looking back to Sari, specifically her jet pack, before looking down at his board.

"Race ya!" he suddenly declared before taking off like a shot.

"Hey!" Sari called back in retort before giving chase.

Vector Prime and Starsaber both shared a good laugh as they watched them go, Starsaber leaning against a bookcase.

"Bout time Jan had a friend about his size. I know he's been feeling sort of off given that everyone on Cybertron could squash him without knowing."

"Young Sari was probably needing someone that understood her unique circumstances as well." Vector Prime agreed. "I foresee good things in our future, my boy. Very good things indeed."

"Speaking of time." Starsaber piped up, gesturing to the still frozen autobots.

Vector Prime raised his sword to dispel the time freeze, but only a moment after realizing they were still on a crash course for the book case. Soon it was they that were buried in a pile of holo disks, rendering megacycles of work moot. Starsaber's shoulders sagged, and he turned away.

"Going on my break. Don't look for me."

Vector Prime watched him depart, and then he turned to the three buried, and deeply confused autobots lying on the floor.

"Well, I hope you three are good at sorting."