Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, only Kate.

Transmissions are in bold/italic.

Transmissions + speech are in "bold/italic."


Interlude: Iridescent


Finally, Kate had gotten some alone time with Optimus. Sure, it was only for a brief moment: the new team—Bumblebee, Hound, Crosshairs, Drift, the humans, and she and Optimus—would head for the K.S.I.'s headquarters in Chicago in the morning. The rest of the team were a few yards away around a fire, sleeping or chatting, she didn't care. She was just content to curl in the back seat of the Peterbilt, shielded and enveloped by her love.

Her eyes fluttered shut and, in her drowsiness, she couldn't help but imagine a different time: five years ago, just before the Battle of Chicago. When the Decepticon threat had been at a minimum and not a lot was required of them; most of Optimus and Kate's time had been spent in each other's arms.

But it's not, Kate. That time's in the past; even my holoform doesn't work anymore.

I know, OP. But… can't I… just… dream?


Explosions, fire, smoke. It was a nightmare she couldn't escape. Kate watched, helpless as the rocket transporting the Autobots burned in its descent back to Earth. Her heart bursting open with a burning ache: Optimus. He was in there!

Optimus—Optimus are you all right? Can you hear me?

Tears flowed down her cheek. She gripped her chest as if she could hold the pieces of her heart together. "Optimus!" she couldn't hold back the scream that ripped from her throat.

Carly gripped her hand, pulling it into her lap. Whether it was in an effort to comfort her or keep her quiet, Kate didn't know. It didn't matter.

"Drug her," Dylan ordered, his voice unwavering. He looked out the window, ignoring Kate's screams as she struggled against her assailants, punching one of them in the jaw before a second grabbed hold of her and drove a needle into her neck.

Carly shrieked, tugging at his arm, begging him to put an end to the violence.

"We all work for the Decepticons now," was his only response.

Dylan silhouetted in the fiery carnage of the Autobot's ship was the last image Kate saw before darkness took her.


When you were standing in the wake of devastation
When you were waiting on the edge of the unknown
And with the cataclysm raining down
Insides crying, "Save me now"
You were there, impossibly alone.


The plan had gone terribly. Had Cade successfully infiltrated K.S.I.? Yes. Had he gotten intel on what the company was doing with Cybertronians? Yep. But what they hadn't expected—what caused Kate to scream in horror and Optimus to kick down a parking light—was their beloved medic's body being melted down right in front of their eyes. Kate's heart squeezed as if daggers were collapsing it on all sides; her tears burned hot, hands trembled.

"Ratchet!" she wailed, not caring who heard her rage-filled cries.

"They slaughtered Ratchet!" Optimus angrily shifted into his alt mode, Kate diving into his cab, "I'm going to tear them apart!"

Gone were the peaceful protectors of the human race, their hearts replaced by a blazing fire that could only be quelled in violence.

Bumblebee led the charge, bursting through the front doors K.S.I. and shifting into his true form. Optimus, Kate, Hound, Crosshairs, and Drift followed swiftly on his heels—Kate perched on one of Optimus's shoulder guards. At some point the yellow Autobot broke off to gather Cade; the rest of the team raced up stairs into a lab, Optimus booming: "Get out! All of you! Destroy the lab, destroy it all!"

Humans scattered, taking cover as shots fired over their heads—all except one. The man in the suit shouted at the Autobots, holding up a hand, thinking he was in control. Kate snarled, her fingers itching to shoot him right then and there: how can this pinhead even imagine that we'd listen? How could this idiot even think "company property" wouldn't be an insult?

"They're not your property: they were my friends," Optimus echoed Kate's thoughts, his voice thick with heartbreak.

The man in the suit hesitated, taking in the four giants before him. Hound squared his shoulders, stepping in front of the Autobot leader, shielding him. Kate ears perked as a small blue form on his arm: Brains. "Oh, you ain't talkin' so much you got Hound in front of ya, huh?" he snarked. She could only imagine what had happened to him in this heartless place.

Yet, the suit didn't back down: "Go ahead. Show us your true colors, once and for all."

The words leaving the man's lips caused Kate to see red: how could this human think that, after all we've done for them? All the sacrifices we've made? "'True colors? True colors?'" she shrieked, "They've done nothing but protect you, defend the human race from absolute destruction and how do you repay them—"

A hand raised by Optimus interrupted her. She bristled, lost in the waves of heat radiating through her, but kept her lips sealed. The sight of her closest friend being melted down, not given a proper burial nor the respect he deserved, kept repeating in front of her eyes. It fanned the flames of her anger. Her fingers gripped her weapon tight, tempted to do as Hound wanted: fire a shot right between this suit's eyes and not care about repercussions.

But that's not what Autobots did. That wouldn't bring Ratchet back; nor would it be something he wanted, no matter what had happened to him. So, instead, she closed her eyes, took several deep breaths, and willed her heart to calm itself.

"Autobots, we're done."


Kate woke on a soft surface, groggy and unsure of where she was. Her eyes fluttered open, trying their best to take in her surroundings in the fog of her mind. Flowers in vases, a glass coffee table, a few straight-backed chairs, floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and a TV blaring from across the room. Dylan's penthouse, she surmised.

For a brief moment, she wondered what he would do with her: the Autobot lover, exposed and without the protection of her sparkmate. Would he take her to Megatron? Would she be killed? Tortured? How long could she hold out before the Decepticons discovered her talent? Her future was inevitable: a battery locked in a cold room, no longer human, a machine without a soul.

"Rocket… Autobots… destroyed…" the words of the newscaster echoed in the sitting room.

She closed her eyes, seeking the comfort of her dreams; a place where she could still be with Optimus. I miss you, my love.

There he was: already in her mind. Standing in a field, his eyes wide, he held up a hand. In the distance behind him was the ocean. Yet, something wasn't right: it was on fire.

Ka—Kate.

In the second before darkness took her, she swore that she could hear his voice. Distant, crackly, but as deep and comforting as he had always been: We… coming… save… you…


And in a burst of light that blinded every angel
As if the sky had blown the heavens into stars
You felt the gravity of tempered grace
Falling into empty space
No one there to catch you in their arms.


How the tides had turned. Five years ago, she had been the one captured. Now, here she was, rescuing Optimus who was being held someplace in this weird, alien spacecraft. To make matters worse, they had a severely limited amount of time to find him and get out before they all were jettisoned into deep space. The Autobots would be fine if that happened, of course, but the humans would have a little issue called breathing.

Kate let the rage simmer underneath her skin, fueling adrenaline and keeping her mind aware as she, Drift, Hound, and Crosshairs wove around corners and underneath archways. Her rifle was locked into her shoulder, ready to shoot if Lockdown or one of his pets came into view. No mercy, she vowed. He didn't show any towards Optimus: I show him none in return.

Part of her wanted to scream and open fire anyways, not caring who might be hurt in the process—just let herself release all the frustration that had been building up for five years. Why can't we be left in peace? Haven't we done enough?

It was not the first time she had thought those words.


Kate breathed. The news was still blaring throughout the sitting room; it helped her remember what had befallen the love of her life. Optimus: he's dead.

As a teenager she had vowed to defend humanity, side-by-side with the Autobots, against the Decepticons and whatever evil may try to eliminate their race. It had been exciting, liberating; a purpose that she could follow until her end-of-days. But, as she lay on the couch, eyes closed, listening to the newscaster repetitive doom and gloom of the Autobots' demise—and the inevitable destruction of the human race—she couldn't help but wonder if this is what she really wanted in her life. She was older, wiser, and had a healthy dose of destruction and chaos keep her in limbo.

She wanted to run. To leave this world behind, fall into isolation, and be forgotten; she wanted peace. It was the same feeling she felt when Optimus had died at the hands of Megatron those years ago. When they had been flying on a military plane, on their way to Egypt, to bring her love back to life. It had worked.

But there was no Matrix of Leadership to bring Optimus back now. Whatever was left of it had either been vaporized in the rocket explosion or buried at the bottom of the sea.

She was alone. She wanted to be left alone. I'm done.

Don't give up, my love.

OP? That was Optimus's voice rumbling through her mind. Her heart leapt—he's—he's not dead!—and her eyes shot open.

At the same time, on the other side of the wall, a commotion began. "Carly! Kate!" Sam's voice screeched, muffled by sounds of gunfire and a loud, whirring engine. "Come on!"

Kate moved before the suit guarding her could even blink. She kicked him in the kneecap and turned the corner, spying Sam perched on the nose of an aircraft, holding out his hand to Carly. Kate was miles behind her and the craft was already pulling away from the balcony. She ran, ducking, diving, punching, kicking anyone who got in between her and freedom; including Dylan.

"Kate!" Sam screeched again, this time with warning: the craft was too far away from the balcony. She wouldn't be able to make the jump.

Kate!

She didn't stop. Not even for the fear in Optimus's voice. No. She wouldn't be a prisoner: she would either escape or die trying. So, she leapt. Her feet left the balcony, her arms stretched for purchase. Yet, they missed, and she fell.

Shit. This is it. Kate closed her eyes; the wind roared in her ears and burned her skin as she fell. She couldn't bear to see the ground getting closer. "Optimus!" she screamed out to him.

"I'm coming!" From someplace in the distance came the familiar mechanical whir of Optimus's wingsuit, tinged with a whine; he was pushing it as fast as it could go, trying to get to her. When he called out to her again—"Kate!"—he sounded closer.

"Kate!" Sam's panicked voice screeched.

She held her breath. Her body seized up, expecting impact. The more the seconds ticked by, the more fear clouded her heart: he's not going to make it.

Then, as soon as her mind had been certain she was going to meet her demise, her body slammed into something firm. The roar of the wind ceased. Peace. Silence. And something… solid, firm, warm. Am I dead?

"Open your eyes, Kate. I've got you."


Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure's all you've known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go, let it go


"I've got you, Op." Kate held onto the bars of the cage, desperately hating the distance between her and Optimus. She would've reached her hand in to try and get closer—but she told herself to be patient: Drift would have the gate open in the blink of an eye. "I'm right here."

He said no words, but kept his eyes locked with hers, love and gratitude crossing the distance between them: she had risked her life in a world that was unforgiving to humankind. A giant's playground, full of creatures that could crush her or devour her within seconds. Even as Drift slashed the gate open and started cutting him down, or as Optimus instructed Hound to find the "arm of this Knightship" so they could safely escape. He kept his focus on her—only her.

It didn't break until he scooped her up, placed her beneath his shoulder guard, and ran—for them. Their escape to freedom. Thank you, Kate.

His steadfast, iridescent human in a world of darkness.