Chapter One:
The planet was beautiful, that could not be denied. But the price had been high. He had seen his friends sacrifice themselves for this, here and on other worlds that would always be alien to them. Yet this world seemed alien too. It was Cybertron yet it was not. It was his home, but not how he remembered. Did he wish for the old planet? The familiar design, the usual haunts? No, not really but-
"We've been over this already. It's been three months."
Cheetor turned from the window of the conference room that overlooked the greenery of Cybertropolis and faced the panel once more, "Optimus Primal gave his life so that you may live yours. Please give him the dignity he deserves." His eyes looked over the four Maximal Elders, scanning them. Each had once been a hero to Cybertron in it's past but now they seemed uneasy with the future they faced here. Cheetor understood this. These were definitely uncertain times but one must have faith. Faith that what Primal had done was for the better. That what he had achieved had been for the best. For everyone. Maximals, Predacons, Vehicons, Autobots, Decepticons did it matter? They were Transformers. Primus' children and that at the end of the day was the most important thing. There was no need for anymore violence.
"Of course, he will be honoured for his achievements in apprehending Megatron but we must face the fact that not every Cybertronian has appreciated the format." This came from Senator Warpath, an age old Autobot, who had campaigned against the Autobot/Maximal changeover for reasons he kept very guarded. This didn't help Cheetor form a good impression of the bot. "The change put upon us has been very severe and for most of us, uncalled for." Cheetor sneered at the Autobot, rolled his eyes and sighed.
"How many times do you have to be told? The order to reformat came directly from Vector Sigma. The Oracle. From Primus himself. Optimus did what needed to be done." He turned, faced the window again, his eyes busily watching as the city's denizens went about their business. Noise from the nightclubs, the game arcades, the streets themselves filtered through to him. Transformers enjoying themselves. And he smiled. He'd longed to see this. Thought everybody shared the same opinion. No more war, the planet was truly at peace. They were One and he liked that. He was no soldier. He was barely an adult. He didn't want to fight anymore. Couldn't these fools see that?
"Please," said Senator Bludgeon, a horror of a machine, "spare us this ancient Autobot religious hokum. Primal was nothing but a fanatic, spewing his beliefs and enforcing them upon us. Do we really have to listen to this?" To his right, the one Cheetor knew as Senator Sideswipe stood, resting his hand upon the shoulder of Bludgeon. "We've all read your reports from the Beast Wars and we know what kind of Maximal Optimus Primal was-"
"Then why this charade of a hearing?" Cheetor spat out. Although he continued to watch the streets below, his mind was still in the bloody room with these uneducated buffoons. Sideswipe moved from the desk that he shared with the other three and approached the Maximal. Cheetor felt dwarfed by the sheer size of the old Autobot and rightly so. For reasons, Cheetor could never fathom, Maximals were and had always been smaller in stature. They were built that way and it had simply remained so. "Ignore senator Bludgeon, he thinks with his sword rather than with his mind. Some of us still believe in the teachings of Primus. But it does not excuse Primal for committing what can only be described as a selfish act."
"But," Cheetor began. Sideswipe raised his hand, cutting the Maximal off.
"I've read your accounts. I've read everybody's accounts of that last confrontation. And you all say the same thing. You weren't there. You recorded that you felt a presence."
"He says he felt the spirit of Primus!" Bludgeon shouted, "More Maximal propaganda, created to fuel the hatred that already exists between the factions." The last senator, a transformer by the name of Dirge and the last of the ancient aerial Decepticons said, "Could what he felt just simply have been a surge from the collected sparks? In the report, he says that he was told to 'feel a united Cybertron'. This is correct is it not, Cheetor?" Cheetor glanced past Sideswipe and toward the Decepticon. He nodded. "Well," Senator Dirge continued, "I remember none of this. Yet I was part of this united Cybertron, was I not?"
"Every transformer on the planet would have been." Cheetor said. Dirge smiled, "But you say you remember. That you saw Primal and Megatron before the reformation. Whilst you, like the rest of us, were one with the Matrix?" Bludgeon span in his chair, stood, stretched his skeletal limbs, "You see? Maximal rubbish. A ploy to turn the factions to war once again. I've listened to enough." He headed for the door that sprang open before him with an electronic hiss. "Sit down," Sideswipe said as he walked back to the desk. Bludgeon gritted his teeth and turned back towards his chair. With a sigh, he sat. Sideswipe sitting back next to him. "I can see there will be no end to the arguing here. We all have different views on the reformat. Some will see it as a blessing, others as a curse. It's something though, that we will all have to live with. That is why I have decided to include Optimus Primal into the Hall of Heroes." Bludgeon span in his chair once again. "What?! We reward terrorism now?!" He spat. "What next senator Sideswipe? Do we honour Megatron? Include him in this debacle of a judgement? He was responsible after all. Without him, none of this would have come to pass." Sideswipe raised his hand, rubbed his temples. His aural circuitry had taken a beating from Bludgeon today and he didn't relish the idea of taking anymore. Though he did like the fact that Bludgeon was so opinionated. Even he did regard him as wrong most of the time. "Megatron was the only terrorist in this Bludgeon. We cannot forget what he did to Cybertron, though in time hopefully we can forgive. This meeting is over."
"Thank you senators," Cheetor began, "For your decision. Primal would be grateful that his achievement did not go unrecognised."
The planet was beautiful, that could not be denied. But the price had been high. He had seen his friends sacrifice themselves for this, here and on other worlds that would always be alien to them. Yet this world seemed alien too. It was Cybertron yet it was not. It was his home, but not how he remembered. Did he wish for the old planet? The familiar design, the usual haunts? No, not really but-
"We've been over this already. It's been three months."
Cheetor turned from the window of the conference room that overlooked the greenery of Cybertropolis and faced the panel once more, "Optimus Primal gave his life so that you may live yours. Please give him the dignity he deserves." His eyes looked over the four Maximal Elders, scanning them. Each had once been a hero to Cybertron in it's past but now they seemed uneasy with the future they faced here. Cheetor understood this. These were definitely uncertain times but one must have faith. Faith that what Primal had done was for the better. That what he had achieved had been for the best. For everyone. Maximals, Predacons, Vehicons, Autobots, Decepticons did it matter? They were Transformers. Primus' children and that at the end of the day was the most important thing. There was no need for anymore violence.
"Of course, he will be honoured for his achievements in apprehending Megatron but we must face the fact that not every Cybertronian has appreciated the format." This came from Senator Warpath, an age old Autobot, who had campaigned against the Autobot/Maximal changeover for reasons he kept very guarded. This didn't help Cheetor form a good impression of the bot. "The change put upon us has been very severe and for most of us, uncalled for." Cheetor sneered at the Autobot, rolled his eyes and sighed.
"How many times do you have to be told? The order to reformat came directly from Vector Sigma. The Oracle. From Primus himself. Optimus did what needed to be done." He turned, faced the window again, his eyes busily watching as the city's denizens went about their business. Noise from the nightclubs, the game arcades, the streets themselves filtered through to him. Transformers enjoying themselves. And he smiled. He'd longed to see this. Thought everybody shared the same opinion. No more war, the planet was truly at peace. They were One and he liked that. He was no soldier. He was barely an adult. He didn't want to fight anymore. Couldn't these fools see that?
"Please," said Senator Bludgeon, a horror of a machine, "spare us this ancient Autobot religious hokum. Primal was nothing but a fanatic, spewing his beliefs and enforcing them upon us. Do we really have to listen to this?" To his right, the one Cheetor knew as Senator Sideswipe stood, resting his hand upon the shoulder of Bludgeon. "We've all read your reports from the Beast Wars and we know what kind of Maximal Optimus Primal was-"
"Then why this charade of a hearing?" Cheetor spat out. Although he continued to watch the streets below, his mind was still in the bloody room with these uneducated buffoons. Sideswipe moved from the desk that he shared with the other three and approached the Maximal. Cheetor felt dwarfed by the sheer size of the old Autobot and rightly so. For reasons, Cheetor could never fathom, Maximals were and had always been smaller in stature. They were built that way and it had simply remained so. "Ignore senator Bludgeon, he thinks with his sword rather than with his mind. Some of us still believe in the teachings of Primus. But it does not excuse Primal for committing what can only be described as a selfish act."
"But," Cheetor began. Sideswipe raised his hand, cutting the Maximal off.
"I've read your accounts. I've read everybody's accounts of that last confrontation. And you all say the same thing. You weren't there. You recorded that you felt a presence."
"He says he felt the spirit of Primus!" Bludgeon shouted, "More Maximal propaganda, created to fuel the hatred that already exists between the factions." The last senator, a transformer by the name of Dirge and the last of the ancient aerial Decepticons said, "Could what he felt just simply have been a surge from the collected sparks? In the report, he says that he was told to 'feel a united Cybertron'. This is correct is it not, Cheetor?" Cheetor glanced past Sideswipe and toward the Decepticon. He nodded. "Well," Senator Dirge continued, "I remember none of this. Yet I was part of this united Cybertron, was I not?"
"Every transformer on the planet would have been." Cheetor said. Dirge smiled, "But you say you remember. That you saw Primal and Megatron before the reformation. Whilst you, like the rest of us, were one with the Matrix?" Bludgeon span in his chair, stood, stretched his skeletal limbs, "You see? Maximal rubbish. A ploy to turn the factions to war once again. I've listened to enough." He headed for the door that sprang open before him with an electronic hiss. "Sit down," Sideswipe said as he walked back to the desk. Bludgeon gritted his teeth and turned back towards his chair. With a sigh, he sat. Sideswipe sitting back next to him. "I can see there will be no end to the arguing here. We all have different views on the reformat. Some will see it as a blessing, others as a curse. It's something though, that we will all have to live with. That is why I have decided to include Optimus Primal into the Hall of Heroes." Bludgeon span in his chair once again. "What?! We reward terrorism now?!" He spat. "What next senator Sideswipe? Do we honour Megatron? Include him in this debacle of a judgement? He was responsible after all. Without him, none of this would have come to pass." Sideswipe raised his hand, rubbed his temples. His aural circuitry had taken a beating from Bludgeon today and he didn't relish the idea of taking anymore. Though he did like the fact that Bludgeon was so opinionated. Even he did regard him as wrong most of the time. "Megatron was the only terrorist in this Bludgeon. We cannot forget what he did to Cybertron, though in time hopefully we can forgive. This meeting is over."
"Thank you senators," Cheetor began, "For your decision. Primal would be grateful that his achievement did not go unrecognised."