Chapter 7: The Camien

Optimus stood in the hangar, watching as Ratchet, who had oddly enlisted the twins help, got to work on the wounded Sky Lynx.

"That was...not a successful mission." Prowl said as he walked up.

"It's too early to say." Optimus replied. "Perceptor's data could tell us exactly what we need to know."

"We could've taken Megatron right then and there if Ironhide and I had gone with you instead of the rookies." Arcee muttered, arms crossed.

Optimus gave her a stern look.

"You were a rookie once, Arcee. And not terribly long ago."

"I learned quickly. Because I had to." Arcee stated. "So should Bluestreak and Warpath."

"Bluestreak and Warpath have an entire lifetime in their processors. This is new for them." Prowl pointed. "When they found you, there was..." He trailed off as he realized Optimus was glaring at him.

"Nothing up here." Arcee replied for him, tapping her helm. "I know. Optimus, it's okay. I'm coming to terms with it. Slowly. The point is, next time you have a chance to take Megatron out, have the right support." She said, turning and walking away, anger in her step.

"Anyway, I needed to talk." Prowl said quickly, to cut through the awkwardness. "To tell you that the Camien envoy is here. They just landed in the space port."

Optimus let out a sigh, and ran his fingers across his faceplate.

"Politics." He grumbled. "Where was my reminder?"

"Um...this is your reminder. And hey. We need an alliance. So reach deep down for that new Prime charisma you've got." Prowl coaxed.

"We don't need an alliance." Optimus replied, turning and walking away.

Arcee watched worriedly from the doorway to the training. She walked back in, as he walked off, the weight of the primacy almost showing on his shoulders.

"Maybe you should go with him, Prowl. You're much more of a politician than he is."

Prowl cocked his helm to the side and frowned.

"Thank...you?" He asked.

Arcee shrugged. "It is what it is."

Prowl turned back to Prime as he walked out onto the main deck of Metroplex.

"But no. He's got wings now. Let him learn to fly."

Bluestreak, who was leaned against a wall, trying to settle his tank, looked over and his optics widened.

"Prime has wings?!"

Prowl rolled his optics.

"Remind me to teach you what a metaphor is, Blue."

Optimus walked across the deck, and found Bumblebee leaning against the edge, looking down at the energon River below.

It was this same river Orion Pax had once plummeted down, after being betrayed by Megatron. It had been over a year now.

He walked up behind the mech, who barely reached up to his waist, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Bumblebee turned and nodded at him.

"Hey." He said, looking back down.

"You are troubled." Optimus observed. "I see it in your optics."

"I'm sorry." Bumblebee replied. He turned to head back inside. "I don't want to be a problem..."

"Nonsense." Optimus replied. "What troubles you?"

Bumblebee let out a sigh.

"I don't...I don't think I should have survived, Optimus." He stated. "The autobot purge, all those capable good soldiers, dying without ever even having a chance to fight back...but I made it. It's not fair, Optimus. I'm not a soldier, I'm not a scout, I was just a courier..."

"Bumblebee...you are not a courier anymore." Optimus said, leaning against the same railing. "And there is nothing wrong with surviving. It's what we all must do, if we wish to win. I am so grateful that you managed to get out of Altihex alive. And you should be too."

"I am." Bumblebee replied. "I just...it's like...it's like Primus made a mistake."

Optimus leaned down so he could look Bumblebee in the optics.

"Primus doesn't make mistakes." He stated. "If you were just another body, you would've been reassigned by now. I certainly have enough soldiers. I could have you in an outpost somewhere. You are here, with my team, the best of the best. Why do you think that is?"

"Because I was there. When we took Iacon back." Bumblebee replied. "I didn't even do anything, Arcee's the one who took out Barricade..."

"It doesn't matter what you did, what you have done. Ironhide and Jazz both see potential in you. In your fighting ability. They believe as I do, that you can become more than a soldier. A warrior."

Bumblebee shook his head. "That's not what I am Optimus. I'm not, and I don't want to waste anyone's time, or get anyone's hopes up just to let them down..."

"You won't let anyone down." Optimus replied. "Just keep training. Keep practicing, keep running recon missions. Your time will come, Bumblebee. I promise."

Bumblebee looked up at him and nodded.

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

Optimus turned as a shuttle taxi'd in, landing on Metroplex's deck.

"Now. I have some Prime things to do." He said, nodding to him. "If you'll excuse me."

Bumblebee headed back inside, as Optimus walked up to the shuttle, tension in his stomach.

He had dealt with the ambassador for Caminus before. The distant Cybertronian colony world had a stuffy counselor who Optimus had awkwardly clashed with during their first meeting, months earlier.

The shuttle ramp lowered, and Optimus stood up as straight as he could.

He smiled the most fake smile he could manage, before remembering his face plate made it unnecessary.

He watched as a pair of Camien guards, faces painted by primal war paint, stepped out first, armed with staffs.

And then, a red, black and blue femme walked down, her face white, with red paint curved down from her optics.

Two jet turbines hung on wings behind her.

She walked up to the mech, and bowed.

Optimus put up a hand.

"Um...I mentioned to the ambassador, that I do not require bowing..."

"Forgive me." The femme replied. "He didn't tell me that. Primes are considered holy figures on Caminus."

"Is Gracchus in the shuttle...?" Optimus asked nervously.

The femme smiled, a look of patient understanding on her face.

"Forgive me. Ambassador Gracchus retired a month ago. I am the new ambassador to Cybertron." She held out a hand and smiled politely. "My name is Windblade."

Perceptor looked up at the image on his screen, and listened to the audio from the drone.

Wheeljack stood in the corner, looking at dark energon samples. He paused, and looked up, as a thumping sound began to overpower the audios.

"Tell me you hear that." He said.

"I do." Perceptor replied.

"Good. Was worried I was losing my mind." Wheeljack replied worriedly, as he walked up. "Is that what i think it is?"

"Yes." Perceptor replied, turning back to him. "It's a spark beat."