Author's Note: Here's the requested third chapter of this story. Thanks to ckret2 for your reviews and the great plot idea. I made good use of it. Now I spin off in a new direction. Those of you who have NOT read another of my stories, specifically A New Life, should read it. If you don't, this chapter might be a little confusing.
Disclaimer: Ultra Rodimus is mine, as are any pacifists mentioned by name, not counting Sandstorm. He's not mine.
Years of Darkness
Chapter 3: Memories and Sinister Plots
"...and this also has to be sorted and distributed." Sandstorm handed Magnus a pile of papers. "These are the latest reports on energy supplies."
"Thank you, Sandy." Magnus took a long look at the Paradronian. "You look like death warmed over. Haven't you been sleeping at all? Is there something in your quarters that keeps you awake?"
Sandstorm sighed and rubbed his face. "I sleep in Ultra Roddy's quarters. I'm just used to having him in there with me. I fall asleep listening to his breathing. He has a powerful presence even in slumber. It's like being in a safe cocoon. With him gone, it feels different. Empty. Like the protective cocoon is gone."
"We all feel strange with out Prime. But we can't spare the energon to keep him on-line. We don't have enough." Magnus patted Sandstorm's shoulder. "Go on. Try to get some rest."
The pacifist nodded wearily. He turned and left Magnus's office. He wandered through the city, thinking his path was aimless until he realized he was walking down the corridor leading to Ultra Rodimus's private quarters. Sighing to himself, he surrendered to the inevitable, let the security systems scan his optics, and entered the rooms.
The set of secured quarters had been rebuilt to accommodate Ultra Rodimus's height after his rebirth. They'd been sparsely furnished after all of Optimus's possessions had been moved out, but Ultra Rodimus had put in items he'd collected on his travels. The shelves held a variety of sculptures and objects from a hundred different worlds. The walls were covered by paintings and woven hangings. Hand-woven rugs from halfway across the galaxy covered the floors. The chairs and couches were padded and well-stuffed to support him comfortably. All of the tables and the desk in the corner had been rebuilt. Plush pillows were scattered on the furniture and heaped in one corner. Ultra Rodimus liked to relax on them after a long day. The rooms had a very homelike feel.
Sandstorm circled the main living room, absently straightening a tilted painting and rearranging several scattered pillows. Once he'd done all of those little tasks, he wandered into the bedroom.
The inner chamber was Ultra Rodimus's sanctuary. While he would see visitors in the main room, only two creatures were allowed into the inner, private room: Sandstorm and Ultra Rodimus himself. No one else was permitted to set foot in there without permission from Ultra Rodimus. Sandstorm pushed aside the patterned hanging behind the sliding door and paused, looking around the room.
The rug on the floor was from a planet with no name. If it had ever had one, no one alive knew what it was. When the Autobots had visited it, the planet's surface was in ruins, the population wiped out by civil wars. Ultra Rodimus had been investigating the ruins of a building when he'd found the rug in a sealed basement. He'd taken it with him. The bed was oversized, made of several recharge beds attached together. Sandstorm had covered the hard surface with a soft cover. Several large pillows were piled at the head, and a velvet-like blanket folded at the foot. Sandstorm had raided Ultra Rodimus's storage bay, finding several bolts of a heavy fabric, colored gold and crimson. He'd hung it from the ceiling around the bed, creating a private space. Ultra Rodimus had loved it.
Along one wall was a bookcase holding real books, copied and printed on Nebulos. Ultra Rodimus loved to read, and spent a good deal of his free time reading. The dresser supported a mirror, and held a hairbrush, a comb, a box of hair ties, and Ultra Rodimus's battle helmet. The tinted transparisteel visor was down, glinting under the overhead lights. Sandstorm touched it, then turned away.
On the rug at the foot of the bed was a rug made from the hide of a sheeplike creature from a distant world, spread over several flat cushions. A soft pillow was at one end, a folded blanket at the other. That was where Sandstorm slept. He'd arranged that spot to his liking. No matter how much Ultra Rodimus tried to talk him into sleeping elsewhere, Sandstorm refused.
The door-chime went off. Sandstorm jumped, then hurried into the main room. "Who is it?"
"It's Sunshadow," a female voice responded. "May I enter?"
Sunshadow was one of the oldest pacifists, one of the few elders to survive the Decepticon enslavement of Paradron and then the attack outside of Iacon's gates. She was Sandstorm's senior my millions of years. The triple changer sighed and opened the door.
The elder pacifist stepped in. She transformed into a ground vehicle, a jeep. In color, she was a mix of black and gold, with a vaguely sun-shaped marking on her chest. Despite her age, she moved gracefully and almost silently.
"What is your purpose here?" Sandstorm asked.
"I wanted to see you, Sandy." She tilted her head. "Since Ultra Rodimus went into stasis, you've been acting like a dog whose master had died."
"You wouldn't understand." Sandstorm turned away.
"Try me." She sat down on one of the couches. "Ever since we arrived here you've been following him around and doing his bidding. What has he done to make you his slave?"
"He saved my life!" Sandstorm yelled at her, losing his temper, overwhelmed by grief and anger. Once he'd let out his frustrated bark, he realized that he had yelled and sat down heavily.
Sunshadow stared at him, shocked. "He what?" she breathed.
"That day, when Galvatron attacked and killed so many of us, I was up on Iacon's walls with him. Galvatron took aim at me. If Ultra Rodimus hadn't shielded me from the blast I would have been killed. He was badly wounded by the shot. I owe him my life. You know what that means. I am bound to him by life-debt."
"So you are bound to serve him until one of you dies," she finished, looking stunned. "None of us realized that. Thank you for clearing that up."
"Now you can stop needling me about why I obey him. I am bound to him. Tell the others that. And I can't complain about anything. He treats me very well. He's my best friend."
She nodded, rising from the couch. "Then I will leave you alone now. But I know First Aid will find a way to awaken Ultra Rodimus. He's working on it now."
"I know. I'm following his progress. I'm also following Perceptor's, but he's a little harder to understand."
"I've encountered Perceptor before. He specializes in technobabble. He is very difficult to understand." She smiled at him, then left.
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Charr:
"Do you think this crazy plan of Galvatron's is going to work?" Onslaught asked Swindle.
The other Combaticon tilted his head. "Attacking Ultra Rodimus with all of our gestalts simultaneously is a sound idea. Not even he can withstand all six of us at the same time."
"So that's what he was saying?" Scrapper turned to face Swindle. "I could barely tell the plan from all that incoherent ranting and raving. So what was he saying?"
"He wants all of the gestalts to attack Ultra Rodimus at the same time. We're to wear him out and then destroy him once he's weakened."
"That sounds like a plan that will work," Bonecrusher commented. "It's more than I thought that insane lunatic capable of."
"What do you want to bet that Cyclonus had a hand in thinking up this plan?" Hook muttered.
"I don't think so. He looked as confused as the rest of us. He didn't know anything about this. This plan was all Galvatron's."
"So let's get to it. We still have to flush Ultra Rodimus out of hiding."
The Decepticons began boarding the shuttles. They were to begin raids on worlds near Cybertron, using the raids as bait to lure out the Autobot leader.
The attack had begun.
To be continued...
Here's your cue to send me some juicy reviews. I know this chapter was strange, but I had to write it. Next chapter, Ultra Rodimus wakes up. You know you want to read it. So send me some reviews and I'll type it up.