I watched as the last of the paintless, malnourished mecha stepped out into the sunlight. I didn't need to be in range of them to see the wonder on their faceplates as they stared up at the sky, overcome.

This was the last of them.

There were no more slaves in Kaon.

Megatron climbed up onto a nearby mining drill to address them, and I stood nearby and stretched out my range, listening in more ways than one.

"My friends," Megatron called. "You are free!"

They cheered, weak, but exuberant. Some of them hadn't seen the sky for more than a vorn. Most of them had heard of the gladiator, Megatronus, and his pledge to return and free the miners, but few had believed it would happen.

And now it had happened.

When the cheers died out, Megatron continued. "We have brought energon and other supplies, which you may make use of before you go your separate ways. You will be free to return to your homes, wherever they may be, to be reunited with your friends and loved ones, and to pursue the lives of peace and prosperity that you deserve."

There was another cheer, but Megatron held up a hand for silence, and the crowd calmed down, waiting for more.

"Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go. However, before you disperse, I have one request. My friends, you are not the only mecha who have suffered. Some innocents still toil in the mines of Tarn and Slaughter City, ruled by corrupt Councils and tyrannical mine lords.

"Your determination to keep living through all of your hardships has made you strong, and we need strong mecha to keep the cause moving forward. We need soldiers forged in the slave mines and slums. Our foolish oppressors thought they were crushing us, but they were only preparing us to rise up against them. And we will show them how strong they have made us.

"As I have said, you are free. I will not press you into service. But I ask all of you, my friends, my fellow common mecha: give back to this cause that has liberated you. Join with me and with each other, and we will liberate all of Cybertron!"

There was another cheer, even stronger this time, and Megatron stepped down. Another mech climbed up on the drill and started shouting instructions to the crowd about lining up to get energon, and where to go if they needed medical attention.

I pulled my range in and followed Megatron to a small shelter we'd set up nearby.

"So?" he said.

"Eighty percent."

He nodded. "That many? That's good."

"Eighty percent what?" Straxus, Megatron's current second in command spoke up from the corner of the room where he was lurking, arms crossed.

"Eighty percent of the miners are going to join the army," Megatron explained.

"Approximately," I added.

"Hmm," Straxus said. We aren't going to be able to feed an army if those mines stop producing. And we can't pay enough to get mecha to actually want to work in them, even if we give them better equipment.

"You don't look pleased," Megatron said.

"Just thinking about our resources," Straxus pushed away from the wall. And how can that faceless mech guess the statistics with so much confidence? It's not like he can read their processors…

"Don't worry," Megatron said. "We'll fill the mines again before too long."

Straxus nodded. "If you say so."

"The confusion and slaughtering of civilians in Kaon was a mistake I don't intend to repeat when we expand."

"I kinda liked it," Straxus smirked.

Megatron raised an optic ridge at him.

"Not as exciting as the arena, but more satisfying. Don't look at me like that, you were a gladiator too."

"I was," Megatron said. "And you know I don't have any problem with killing, when it is necessary." I can't feed him the glorious liberation of Cybertron story, though. That's not what he wants to hear, and I need him on my side. He's one of the few gladiators with any semblance of intelligence. "But even mecha who don't agree with us can still be persuaded to help us."

Straxus nodded, satisfied. Then he remembered something he'd been going to tell Megatron. "Oh, speaking of resources, we got word from Central, just ten breems ago while you were in the mines. Demolishor had our supporters bring in some more medics from around the city-state, so we should have enough of them now for the army."

"Good," Megatron said. "All good news, this orn. Do we know what the Iacon Council and their pet Prime are doing?"

"I haven't heard anything for a while," Straxus said.

Megatron nodded. "I'll have to get that report from Jazz later. Soundwave, I'm going to go out and meet some of the miners personally." Let me know over the comm. if you think any of them would do well in leadership roles. We're sorely lacking in mecha with administrative talent.

I nodded, and he left to mingle among the mecha he had saved.

We were in a precarious position, because most of the mecha in charge of anything had been offlined and we couldn't do anything if Kaon slipped back into chaos. We had a lot of work to do, and a lot of things to figure out.

Megatron still wasn't sure how he was going to replace the miners, but the ideas he did have weren't very ethical.

I would have to wait for the right moment, and then confront him about that.

At least he was honestly happy about releasing the slaves in the mines. He felt a connection with them and he enjoyed talking to them, getting to know them, and helping them. It brought him back to a time before the gladiator pits had damaged him.

I had hoped that once Kaon had fallen to us, he would be satisfied.

But it had been a foolish hope. There were other mines in other city-states. There were other slaves, other Councils, other pockets of injustice like a disease, all over the globe.

So we had a lot more work to do before this conflict was over.

Orion took in a deep vent. "Sit down."

Ultra Magnus sat across the desk from him. He was just so big. He barely seemed to fit in the room.

"So," Orion said. "I know I'm not interviewing you for your position, seeing as you already have your position. But I thought we could speak for a few breems."

It was like addressing a wall.

This is what I'm supposed to be, Orion thought. Maybe they should have made this mech Prime.

"So, uh…" Orion said. "How long have you been in charge of the Elite Guard?"

"Thirty-one vorns, Prime Sir. And I've been a member of the Guard for ninety-four."

That was quite a long time to keep the same job. "Do you… enjoy it?"

Magnus looked confused.

"I mean being in charge of the Elite Guard. Do you enjoy it?"

"It… well, that is no longer my position." Magnus said. "But I suppose I did. Is this pertinent, Prime Sir?"

"I wanted to know," Orion said. "Also… I know you've only been here for an orn, but please, if you have ideas or recommendations, speak up. All I know about armies is from history books. I'm sure you've already seen things that we need to do differently…"

Magnus nodded. "You must demand more respect from your subordinates, Sir."

"I've been told that," Orion admitted.

"And your mecha are not organized enough to be an effective military leadership."

"I agree," Orion said. "We're working on that—we've got to figure out what everyone's role will be. Umm… Also, I was wondering if you would agree to speak with the Council in my behalf next time they summon me."

Magnus looked taken aback. "You would trust me to do that, Prime Sir?"

"Can I trust you to do it?"

"Yes, Sir, but…"

"That's enough for me, for now." Orion said. "Make no mistake, you will not be making any decisions for me. But you can listen to their demands, then relay them back to me. I don't have time to be traveling back and forth across Iacon Central on their whim so..."

Magnus nodded. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I suggest that you make it an order."

Orion was confused. "Why?"

"Respectfully speaking, Prime Sir, I've never heard you give an order."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to be polite and ask mecha instead of ordering them around."

Magnus frowned. "Again, speaking respectfully, if you intend to be in command of an army, you will need to give orders."

Okay. Orion took in a deep vent. "Very well, then… uh… Ultra Magnus, I… appoint you as my liaison with the Council and order you to appear before them whenever they summon me." Orion felt like an idiot. He also felt almost like laughing.

"Yes, Sir."

"Thank you."

Silence fell.

"Do you have more questions for me, Sir?"

"Yes…" Orion said. "Just one."

Magnus looked at him expectantly.

"Why are you loyal to the Council?"

Magnus blinked.

"I know you are. And I am willing to accept that. And if you would rather not answer…"

"I am loyal to the Iacon High Council because I swore an oath to protect them upon entering the Elite Guard," Ultra Magnus said and locked optics with Orion. "That is the only reason, Prime Sir."

They held each others' gaze for a moment, then Orion looked away. "Thank you… I understand. That will be all for now. Do you have somewhere to stay in the tower?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. We'll have a meeting at eighteen joors in the main meeting room. Will you come to that?"

Magnus hesitated, as if waiting for something.

Oh.

"I… expect you to be there," Orion revised.

"Yes, Sir."

Magnus left. Orion leaned back in his chair and vented a sigh of relief, glad that was over.

Then he took a few breems to reflect on the conversation. He was certain Alpha Trion had had a hand in choosing Ultra Magnus for the Autobot second in command. But Orion was still wary of trusting him. It would be very easy—too easy—to ask this older, more experienced mech to take over and start making decisions for him.

But Orion couldn't do that.

He looked down at his list to see who was next. He didn't recognize the designation, but Prowl's notes said that this mech was a colleague of Perceptor's, and that the professor had recommended him.

Orion called him in.

He was an older mech with a conservative green and gray paint job and a calm, thoughtful demeanor.

"Sit down," Orion said.

The mech sat across from him. "Good orn," he said pleasantly. "It's good to meet you. I'm Mainspring."

Orion nodded. "Orion… I mean, Optimus Prime I suppose."

"What would you like me to call you?"

"Orion."

Mainspring nodded.

"So," Orion said. "Perceptor recommended you for a position in what we're expecting to become an army. Were you informed about that?"

"Yes," Mainspring said. "Prowl briefed me, and I am willing to accept the position if you ask me to. Head of intelligence, was it?"

Orion nodded. They would normally have put Jazz in charge of intelligence, but with him not there, and with the necessity of keeping his true loyalty a secret, Prowl had thought it wise to appoint someone else, at least temporarily.

"So…" Orion said. "Tell me about yourself. You were a professor at the Academy?"

"I was teaching psychology, and a few forensics classes as well, until I was fired for being affiliated with your organization. I don't have many qualifications when it comes to leadership roles, but I was a secondary school headmaster for a short period of time. I've also been a school counselor, a professor, and an archivist. I have experience with enforcement as well, and I spent many vorns doing background checks and keeping criminal and enforcement records organized." Mainspring shook his helm. "Now that I say that all, it doesn't sound very impressive."

Orion took in a deep vent. "Well, if we do appoint you to the position, you'll be the second most qualified mech in the command element, after Ultra Magnus."

Mainspring looked concerned.

"Perceptor recommended you highly, and he claims we can trust you. I care more about that than your credentials," Orion said. "But we could certainly use the help of someone with your experience."

He talked to Mainspring for several more breems, and by the end of their conversation, he was convinced. He'd talked to a few other mecha who Prowl had suggested for the same position, but something about Mainspring felt more right. He seemed trustworthy, not to mention very calm and collected. That would hopefully balance out all the high-strung mecha who were going to be in the command element.

After Mainspring left, Orion checked his datapad again, though he knew there was only one more designation. One final interview to conduct.

He was more nervous about this one than any of the others, even Magnus's.

But he couldn't put it off any longer.

The door opened and Elita crossed the room sat down across from Orion, silent.

"I…" Orion started, but he still wasn't sure what to say to her.

"It feels like vorns since I talked to you," Elita said. "I almost thought you had skipped me."

"I know. I put it off…" Orion said.

Uncomfortable silence stretched out between them, and Orion was grateful when Elita ended it by speaking again.

"I know this isn't the right time for this conversation, and I know you're busy, but… I feel like you've been avoiding me, so I don't know when I'll have another chance to talk to you."

Orion looked down.

"You said you still loved me," Elita said. "And I know trying to re-form our bond didn't work, but I guess I still expected…"

Orion stared at her. Every word was like a knife to the spark because she sounded so miserable, and he would do anything to stop her from hurting.

But there was nothing he could do.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Those are pretty much the only words you've said to me for the past decaorn. Over and over again. I know you're sorry, Orion. I don't need you to be sorry."

"I know."

"It's not your fault," Elita said. "It's not your fault and I don't blame you and you have to stop blaming yourself."

Orion met her optics and saw the pain in them that he was afraid of. But it wasn't just pain. She reached out across the desk and put her hand on his.

"I miss you. Stop pushing me away."

Orion looked down. "I've been thinking—"

"No," Elita cut him off, with some of the old spark in her optics. "If you're going to say that I'd be better off leaving, then you're wrong. This is my cause, with or without you."

"Chromia…"

"I don't care what Chromia says or thinks," Elita said. "I don't care that we can't be bonded. I don't want to be alone, and I don't want you to be alone, and I still love you just as much as before."

Orion tried to come up with something to say to her, something that would adequately explain everything, something that would convince her that he wasn't worth it.

"Do you still love me?" Elita asked.

"Yes. Of course."

"Well then…"

"But I can't… I can't spend as much time with you as you deserve. I have so many things to do, and more than anything, I wish I could… but..."

"It's all right," Elita smiled at him. "I expected from the beginning that you weren't going to have a lot of free time. I just want to make sure you understand that I'm not ready to give up. I will never be ready to give up. And I will always be here for you, no matter what."

Her hand was still resting on his.

"But I don't appreciate you ignoring me just because you feel bad about what happened."

"I understand," Orion said. "I'm sorry for—"

"Orion."

"Right." She'd asked him to stop apologizing.

"I know you've probably got a lot on your processor already," Elita said. "But I had to say that. I don't need to work everything out with you right now, but when you're ready…?"

"Very well," Orion said. "Thank you."

"Now, what do you need me to do?"

He looked at her, confused.

"In the army," Elita clarified.

"Right. We were thinking of appointing you as the head of public relations and communication."

Elita nodded. "I feel like my sisters and I have already been doing that. What are you going to have them do?"

"I'm not sure," Orion said. "Do you want them in your department?"

"I want Moonracer in my department," Elita said, raising an optic ridge. "Saying that felt weird. My department…"

"What about Chromia?" Orion asked. "Do you think she would make a good army general?"

"Yes," Elita said. "But Ironhide's going to be a field commander too, right? It would be dangerous for both of them to fight in a war at the same time, because of their bond."

"True," Orion said.

"You know…" Elita said. "Having been her sister for a long time, I know one thing you wouldn't think about that she'd be very good at..."

"Thank you for coming," Orion said as the last of the gathered mecha were seated. They had many there, more than a normal gathering, and the central room in Mirage's tower was packed so tightly that mecha were pressed against each other in the back by the doors. Red Alert had had a fit about it, but he hadn't wanted to try and find another location outside the tower. "I would have spent more time considering, but we don't have any time. So, I'm going to appoint heads of departments this orn, and let you all get to work right away. I, Optimus Prime, will be the chief commander of the army, and my second in command will be Ultra Magnus. He will also be our liaison with the Council.

"Prowl will be head of the tactical department and third in command. Ironhide will be in charge of training and recruitment. Red Alert will be in charge of security. Mainspring will be in charge of intelligence. Elita will be head of communications. Chromia will be in charge of material resources. Ratchet is our chief medical officer.

"These mecha will be able to choose others to work under them. If you would like a position, please speak with them about it. Now, I will hear any and all objections to these appointments."

There were objections, especially to Magnus. But in the end, nothing was changed.

"All right," Orion said when the meeting was finished. "Now we have much work to do and it is late so I suggest you all get some recharge and start early next off-cycle."

They had plenty of things to keep them busy over the next few orns.

And decaorns. And quartexes.

And who knew how long?

"So," The cheerful young news anchor said. "Orion Pax—or should I say Optimus Prime?—The world has been waiting far too long for a statement from you about exactly what happened at the Council that orn with Megatron."

Orion nodded. "Thank you, Cliffjumper. I'm grateful to be able to speak this orn, and to speak freely to everymech. Not only that, I'm grateful for the chance to apologize to the mecha of Cybertron. Megatron and I entered the Council Hall with the intention of convincing them to make him a Prime. But he showed his true self in our meeting, by threatening to destroy the Council and take over by force if they refused to meet our demands."

"So is it true you've cut all ties with him?"

"Yes," Orion said. "Or, he has cut all ties with me and ignored any attempts I have made to open communications between us."

"Even so, can you give the public any information about what has been happening in Kaon?"

"We do not know much," Orion said. "But it does appear that Megatron is attempting to raise an army and make good on his threats against the Council."

"Do you think he'll be successful?"

"It is too soon to say. But while I misjudged his character, I spent many joors talking to him and I came to know what he is capable of. When he sets his processor to something, it is difficult to stop him. I believe some orn he will wage war on Iacon."

"Are you sure?" The news anchor asked. "Isn't he just after the Council?"

"Perhaps, but I doubt the violence will stop there. It is likely he intends to 'liberate' every city as he has Kaon. He is very dangerous and his power is growing by the orn."

"Do you know if the Council is doing anything to prepare for that, or to stop him?"

Here it was. This was where Orion had to tell the world that he was going to go back on his promise to avoid violence. He looked down, trying to gather his thoughts, then looked up again, straight at the camera.

Starscream sat at the table, hunched over a datapad with a calculating expression on his faceplate.

That couldn't be good. Thundercracker hesitated, then walked over to him. "What are you watching?"

Starscream sat back so Thundercracker could look over his shoulder. The mech on the datapad screen was vaguely familiar, but he was a groundpounder, and the glyphs scrolling across the screen read "Iacon News."

"Who is that?"

Thundercracker's brother turned the datapad off and glared up at him. "That's the new Prime."

"Why are you watching groundpounder news?" What was he up to? He and Tealwing had had one of their typical loud and savage arguments, and since then he hadn't talked to anyone, which meant he was scheming something.

"Well," Starscream said. "Seeing as there's nothing left for me in Vos, I thought I might start to take notice of the rest of the world. And, fortuitously, I've already stumbled upon a great opportunity."

"Nothing left for you in Vos? What about Tealwing?" Thundercracker said. "I know you two just had another falling out, but she always lets you come back when you apologize."

Starscream shook his helm. "Did you not listen to what I said? Things are stirring in Iacon. The new Prime has just announced that he is planning to raise an army to combat the Decepticons."

"So?" Thundercracker said. "Vos will stay out of it, so it doesn't matter."

"You aren't listening to a word I'm saying," Starscream growled. "Vos is not our home anymore. It has betrayed us. I need to go where mecha will recognize my true potential."

Thundercracker sighed and sat down next to his trine brother. "So this is about the Armada, not your fight with Tealwing. You know, I'm still upset about that too. But we can try again in a couple of vorns. It's not like—"

"No," Starscream said. "We're not trying again in a couple of vorns. I won't play their games anymore. I'm going to be making up my own rules from now on, and the Council's going to pay for denying me my rights."

Thundercracker raised an optic ridge. "Ok, I guess. As long as you don't want us to do anything illegal, because—"

"We're leaving Vos." Starscream said. "We're going to join the Autobots."