Alpha Trion


There is much unknown about the Thirteen.

The entirety of that knowledge, though, is perhaps for another lesson. This lesson, now, is one of grave importance, and one that has been in-coming for many, many eons. It has been here, in the Covenant's pages, for so long not even I can remember it, and I have been mastering the Covenant for as long as I have been one of the Thirteen.

During the time of the Ancient Wars, there was prophesied by Solus Prime, the great forger of our people, that one day a Countess would rise into the ranks of our people, to revive the title long since deceased with the parting of Countess Awestrike, the companion and charge of Nexus Prime. This, though regarded, was scoffed; pushed aside into the stars with thoughts of the future the Thirteen may have possessed.

Solus Prime was a wise femme, she understood the need for companionship. She understood that a Prime could not shoulder the burden alone, having not known that understanding due to the presence of the other twelve. The Primes would not know what it would be like to be alone at war, they always had been accompanied by the others. The need of a Count or Countess was not needed, only in the time of Nexus Prime, when he had to fight the powers of Unicron alone in deep space. That was when he had Awestike, a tactical missions specialist, from Tarn, under the watchful eye of Shockwave.

I myself have known the solitude of being alone. The other twelve have long been gone, taken for dead. But do they live? Perhaps they do, in the recesses of time that I have not been granted to understand. Perhaps they do exist, and return not, for their time on Cybertron has ended. Their leadership has been passed on, to one Optimus Prime, now residing on the planet Earth.

He is the last Prime, and he knows not companion ship. He also knows not that the Matrix of Leadership, given to each of the Prime's for a time, syncs itself to its carries, whether previous or present. It is much like a history log, keeping note of events and time of its location and present state. I have been able to know Optimus Prime's whereabouts the entirety of his possession of the Matrix.

He fights a strong war, a war against people who know his thoughts. He has entrusted the species of Earth—humans—and they have betrayed him, as did a gladiator once who he had called brother, Megatronus. Optimus Prime has known much betrayal, and hardship, and lowliness, that much is known. He loves, and then is shattered. His trust is thin still with these humans, those who would kill him and hand him back to Lockdown, who will surely kill him before he even sees the Creators—if they exist, as legends would speculate.

There is one I am curious of. A femme, much like Solus Prime or Awestrike. She is very strong and willful. I see power in her, a power much like the stars: bright and shining, but often overlooked. I see light in her eyes, a light that is courageous and strong; a light which could very well keep the flame of hope with Optimus Prime alive.

What made Awestrike such Countess was her ability to foresee hope. The job of a Countess is to stand beside a Prime; to advise them and learn, rarely to teach and to lead. They are a companion; one to confide in and to expel ideas from. They are the other half of a Prime, the other half that could see reason when judgment is faltered in the face of chaos and tragedy. They have a favor with the soldiers as well, a favor that is earned and not given. They lead with grace, especially the Countess', and integrity, and hope. The see a future when the future is clouded, and they strive to bring that future. They keep passion alive when a Prime has to fight for that passion.

I see this in the human femme, a passion for hope. A strength to lead. A grace that is unseen by the people around her.

I find it curious, the departure of the Shield. A very powerful tool not to be given lightly, and I sense it is not with the Matrix. Prime has discharged it from his care to another, something that has never happened before in the history of the Primes. I believe fully that this is not in fear he has discharged it, I feel it is in an act of trust to renew his hope, his faith. This piece is not for the faint-hearted—it has the power to bring our science, our world, to life. Everything we are, and everything we have strived to learn, is in the Shield. To a world unknown, it could bring the apocalypse.

What is more curious; more distressing than curious I suppose, is perhaps the holder of the Shield—the human femme. I know she is fond of Optimus Prime, and that he is equally fond of her. The guardianship imprinted on the Matrix does not lie: he has bonded himself to her, and her to him. They are charged now, a step towards a crowning realization of a Countess rising from the ashes, as I suspected. She wears the Shield proudly and is curiously fond of it, with a heavy protectiveness in her eyes only one so loyal to the carrier would show. Perhaps this is not distressing, for I sense a calling put upon her shoulders that I would not think of carrying, a calling for Cybertron. A future ringing in her fate, a future here, perhaps, with us, leading us?

These are speculations, and the Covenant has no room for anymore. The High Council, still existing, has requested me to find this human femme; as they reside below the surface of our great Cybertron, struggling to survive. They ponder what to do with the expiration of the Manganese Mountains, as with the Mithric Sea, which were broken from our planet some years ago by Sentinel Prime and his cursed Space Bridges, once so great and now so dangerously ineffective. The Council, too, senses the calling of the femme, and they too know the guardianship Optimus Prime now possesses towards her. They understand: she is one of us, with the Shield, and must be recognized. I myself lie on this planet, surviving, my only hope the Covenant; the only thing keeping me alive here in the remnants of Iacon, our beloved capital.

She will stand before the Council, one day, I am sure. And when that day comes, I will gladly receive her.