Orion was pulled from his thoughts when the sun dome came on. The sudden light reminded him that he'd told Elita he'd be back by now. Then again, he wasn't altogether certain the Elita here was real.

He walked over to the railing where Vector Prime had appeared before, not entirely certain how to get the mech to show up again.

"You have made your decision, haven't you?"

Orion started, then turned to see Vector standing behind him. The ancient Prime stared out over the road, watching alt modes go by on the street.

"Yes, I have," Orion said.

Vector didn't look at him. "What will you do?"

"I will return."

"You will abandon your life here, and all of your friends?"

"No," Orion said. "I don't think you've been honest with me about that. You claim this is some form of reality, but I doubt that's the case. You, yourself, called me a Prime when we first met. If this was reality, you wouldn't have called me that because I'm not a Prime here. And if I am a Prime, then this is not where I need to be."

"Reality is in the eye of the beholder," Vector said, finally turning to look at Orion. "From your perspective, what makes this reality less real? And how do you know the other reality isn't an illusion as well?"

Orion shook his helm. "Even if both are real—or even if neither are real, I have to go back. If all of the terrible things you said about the other reality are true, then I need to be there, to help everyone. I do… I do want to stay here, but not if mecha need my help somewhere else. That's my decision."

Vector Prime hesitated, looking thoughtful, almost as if he questioned Orion's sincerity. Then he nodded. "Well done, Prime, though I still think you're cheating somehow. You may proceed to the next trial."

The next trial? What did that mean?

The world grayed to nothing and Orion felt a sudden sensation of falling.

He un-shuttered his optics with a start. He was sitting in a circular courtyard.

Yoketron's courtyard.

Memories flooded back and he gasped as they threatened to overwhelm his processor. Then, as everything settled into place, a wave of sorrow washed over him.

Vector Prime had not been exaggerating about the state of this world. He had not been exaggerating about Orion's burdens.

The sorrow passed quickly, though. Orion felt… different. He reached out to Elita over their bond, and she responded enthusiastically. She was sorrowful too. What had happened while he was gone?

Orion checked his internal timepiece. It was early in the on-cycle—the same time of day that it had been in the trial when Vector had sent him back. And he'd been in the trial for a little less than two orns.

He suddenly realized he was alone. Where was Master Yoketron?

As soon as he moved, Orion found he was stiff and sore. He stood, wincing as he stretched. He ought to let everyone know he was awake and coming back, but he wanted a few moments to think first.

Just as he was finished stretching, though, Yoketron came out into the courtyard.

"Welcome back, Orion." The Circuit-Su master looked anxious. "Have you contacted any of the other Autobots yet?"

"No," Orion said. "Why?"

"Good. They can wait a breem or two while I explain what's happened…"

"Something happened?"

"Many things," Yoketron said. "No good news, unfortunately. While you were in the trial, a Decepticon infiltrator attempted to kill Prowl. I'm told Ratchet barely managed to save him, but he has not regained consciousness yet. Then, last off-cycle, there was an attack on Tesarus."

Orion stared at him.

"The Autobots lost the battle, but managed to retreat."

If Prowl was unconscious, then they'd been fighting without his direction. "Were there... many casualties?"

Yoketron nodded grimly. "Several thousand were either offlined or abandoned in the field."

Orion shuttered his optics.

"I am sorry," Yoketron said. "Megatron must have known you were gone and decided it was a good time to strike."

Silence fell.

"In light of that, I thought it might be better to let you go straight back to base, and perhaps in a few orns, you can return here and we will discuss how the trial went. Unless you would like to talk about it now?"

"No, I should go," Orion said.

He had chosen to leave the trial and return to this. He had known it would be painful. He had known there was a war, and he had known his role in it. He had chosen to come back.

"Good luck," Yoketron said.

"Thank you."

He commed Ironhide as he walked through Landquake and Petra's apartment.

"Optimus," Ironhide's voice sounded tired. "Good—You're back. We needed you last off-cycle."

"I know," Orion said as he left the building Yoketron was staying at. "Yoketron told me. I apologize."

"Comm. Mainspring. He's in charge right now. He'll get you a bridge."

Mainspring? "Why is Mainspring in charge?" Orion asked. "What about you and Red Alert and Jazz?"

"I'm injured. Actually just regained consciousness half a joor ago. I don't know about Red Alert and Jazz."

"All right," Orion said. He would have to ask Mainspring what was going on. "I'll talk to you later."

He ended his comm. with Ironhide, and commed Mainspring, who answered immediately. "Oh, thank Primus," he said. "Are you coming back? Where are you? We'll get you a groundbridge."

Orion sent his coordinates, and a few moments later a groundbridge opened up in front of him, startling the other mecha on the streets. It wasn't technically legal to open them anywhere but the station, but he wasn't going to complain.

Orion walked through the bridge, which was apparently a two-way portal because it opened up into Mirage's tower instead of the groundbridge station.

Mainspring was standing there, looking stressed and exhausted.

"It seems I've missed a lot," Orion said, as the bridge closed behind him.

"You have no idea," Mainspring said.

"Yoketron told me there was a battle."

"Yes," Mainspring said. "Though we haven't been able to get everyone together for any sort of post-battle meeting yet. That's probably the next thing we have to do. Clean-up's not an issue since, well, the Decepticons have Tesarus now so we can't do anything there."

Right.

"Orion, there were a lot of casualties." Mainspring looked down. "And we had to leave a lot of injured mecha behind."

"Yoketron told me. I will call together a meeting. How soon will you be available for that?"

"I can be ready in half a joor," Mainspring said. "You'll probably need to go physically knock on some doors to get everyone else to come. Red Alert and Jazz have barricaded themselves in their respective offices, and neither of them is answering comms. from me. Oh, and I don't know if Ratchet's back from the hospital yet. I haven't seen him, but I know we did bring enough injured mecha home to keep him busy for a while…"

Orion nodded. "Thank you for all you've done in my absence."

"You're welcome," Mainspring said dully. "Thank you for coming back so quickly."

Orion nodded, and walked away. He felt like he ought to offer to take over, but he didn't know enough about the current situation so he figured he'd let Mainspring deal with things until after the meeting. For now, he could round everyone up. He commed Red Alert, but the security mech didn't answer, so he commed Jazz instead.

Jazz answered after several astroseconds. "Orion…"

"I'm back. Can I come to your office to talk to you?"

There was no answer.

"Jazz?"

Jazz cut. the comm.

At least he'd answered it. Orion walked to his office and pressed the entry request, then waited. Several astroseconds later, Jazz opened the door and gestured for him to come in.

Jazz's office was a disaster. Datapads and styluses littered the desk and the floor, along with several empty energon cubes. The desk itself was skewed, and one of the chairs was on its side, right next to a frighteningly large energon stain on the ground by the door.

"Sorry 's a mess," Jazz said, as he picked up the fallen chair and set it upright, then stumbled over to sit in the one behind the crooked desk. He put his pedes up on the surface and crossed his arms.

Orion sat in the empty chair. "What's that?" he asked.

"What?" Jazz said.

Orion gestured to the dried energon on the ground.

"Oh, that... um..." Jazz frowned as if trying to remember. "One of my mecha tried ta kill Prowl in here. I ain't had time ta clean it up."

"Oh," Orion said, even more concerned for Prowl now. Yoketron had said he hadn't regained consciousness yet. How badly had he been hurt?

He'd have to talk to Ratchet about it later.

"So," Orion said. "I heard about the battle. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, m'fine."

Orion reached down to pick up one of the empty energon cubes on the floor and studied it thoughtfully. "I don't mean physically. You seem—"

Jazz laughed, cutting him off. "Mech, ya have no idea. Go tell that fragging tactician that he's not allowed ta get assassinated ever again I can't…" he choked off and shook his helm.

"Jazz?"

Jazz still wouldn't look at him. "I ain't ever doing that again," he said softly. "I got a third of our mecha offlined."

Orion sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"Yeah, me too," Jazz mumbled, then took a deep vent. "It don't matter."

"We're going to have a meeting in half a joor," Orion said. "To talk about the battle."

Jazz scowled up at the ceiling, tilting his chair back on two legs.

"Jazz?"

The mech shook his helm. "Don't wanna know the damages," he muttered. "Just pretend I'm there."

"We need you to come to the meeting."

"No." Jazz let his chair thump down on all four legs again.

Orion frowned. "Are you… sure you're all right?"

Jazz didn't answer.

"Jazz."

"I'm fine!" he snapped. "I just ain't going ta your slagging meeting!"

"Please."

"I don't wanna know how many mecha are dead, cuz of me."

Orion shook his helm. "It's not—"

"I killed mecha back in Quantum," Jazz said, sounding distant now. "I killed a lot of mecha. And then I told myself I wouldn't kill anyone again, but I always knew it was a lie."

"It's not your fault."

"Jus' go away an' leave me alone,"

"You didn't kill anyone—"

"I know!" Jazz shouted, then uncrossed his arms and covered his faceplate with his hands. "Look I'm… I'm sorry. I don't… think I'd be very helpful at th'meeting anyway."

Orion sighed. "Maybe you're right. But if you're not coming to the meeting, I think you should go to your room and get some rest instead."

"I don't wanna do that either."

"I can make it an order."

Even with the visor, the dirty look Jazz gave him was impressive. Orion stood, and Jazz sighed and took his pedes off of the desk, then got up as well. He walked past Orion, hesitated in the doorway, and then left the room.

Orion followed him down the hall, and then stopped at the door to Red Alert's office. Hopefully, the head of security was in a better state. Red Alert still hadn't answered his comm.

Orion knocked on his door.

And waited.

"Red Alert?" he said. "Red Alert, it's Optimus. Please let me in."

Nothing.

Orion tried comming him again, and knocked a little louder on his door.

"Stop that!" Red Alert said over the comm.

"Red Alert," Orion said. "I need to talk to you."

"No. The battle was very stressful, and right now I just want to be left alone to do my job."

"May I come in?"

"You aren't supposed to be back for several more orns… What if you're Makeshift coming to offline me?"

"What?" Orion said. "Who is… Makeshift?"

"Go away!" Red Alert said.

"We're going to have a meeting in half a joor to talk about the battle."

Red Alert didn't answer, but a few astroseconds later the door opened and he let Orion in, watching him warily.

Orion took in a deep vent. "I am so sorry that you had to take my place in the last battle. I know it's not easy to be in charge."

Red Alert seemed to relax a little. "Apology accepted," he said. "It's all right, Prime. It isn't your fault. Ironhide should have stayed here to help me run things. I can't…Primus, I barely made it through the battle without panicking." He flinched. "I don't know if I could do that again…"

"Will you come to the meeting?"

"Yes," Red Alert said "I'll come. Now please leave my office. And close that door on your way out."

Orion backed up and let the door close behind himself. Two down, one to go. He headed for Ratchet's office. While he walked there, he made a general announcement that he was back and they were going to have a meeting about the battle. He passed Elita in the hallway and she smiled at him, but they shared sorrow over the bond. He thought of the cheerful, happy Elita from the trial and wished the real one could be that happy. But, all things considered, he'd much rather have a sorrowful, real Elita than any kind of imaginary one.

Ratchet's office was not locked, so Orion let himself in. Ratchet himself wasn't here, but Prowl was, hooked up to all sorts of machinery and lying facedown on a berth. He didn't know enough to interpret the readings on the machines, but the patch of temp plating on the Praxian's back looked to be right over his spark chamber.

Prowl could easily have offlined from a wound like that.

And Orion couldn't help feeling responsible in a way. Too many mecha had offlined because of him already. Roller, Ultra Magnus, all of the soldiers who'd fought the Decepticons while he sat safe in Mirage's tower... Orion tried to ignore the guilty feeling in his tanks and left the room, comming Ratchet on his way out.

The meeting itself was painful. Everyone who wasn't injured showed up—even Jazz, though he spent most of the meeting slumped forward on the table, apparently recharging. Since Prowl wasn't there, Orion had Mainspring give the tactical report. Chromia's damages report filled the room with sickening silence, and she finished with the bitter comment that at least recruitment had gone up since the battle, so they'd have more sparks to throw at the 'Cons next time.

When everyone was finished, Orion felt like he ought to say something to cheer them up, but there wasn't anything cheerful about the situation. Making light of it would be disrespectful to the mecha who'd offlined, and those who were prisoners of the Decepticons.

He thought of the trial again. He could have avoided being at this meeting if he had stayed in his fake reality. But the meeting would still have happened, just without him. Probably also without Red Alert or Jazz.

"Thank you," Orion said. "Thank you all for being here at this meeting." He looked down. "Thank you for running that battle. If I might be so bold… I think you did a good job."

Around the table, mecha lowered their helms.

Orion continued. "I know it didn't turn out very well, but imagine how it would have been without you." He shook his helm. "I know this has been hard, and... I am so sorry that I was not here to help. This probably won't be the hardest thing we have to get through, though. This war will keep getting harder. Since Megatronus left us, I've often complained that I didn't ask for any of this—that I didn't volunteer to lead an army and watch mecha offline. But after the events of the past few orns, I've realized that it doesn't matter.

"Unrestrained, Megatron would take over the world and reign with darker tyranny than the Council. So, I will do all I can to stop him, even if that means giving up everything I have, even if it means suffering or… watching my friends suffer, and even if it means war. However, I realize that some of you may feel differently, and I will not force anyone to follow me. The choice belongs to each of you, individually."

He let that hang in the atmosphere.

To his surprise, Red Alert spoke first.

"I'm not leaving," he said.

"We're with you, Orion," Elita said. Chromia and Moonracer nodded. Mecha around the table reaffirmed their loyalty and decision to stay, and the room filled with noise before quieting again.

"Thank you," Orion said trying to fight back the tide of emotion swelling within him. "Your support means… everything to me. Now, we have a lot of work to do." He looked around the table. The hopelessness was still there, but it no longer dominated the room. There was determination now too—purpose.

"Meeting adjourned."

Talking to the Iacon High Council was somewhat less intimidating when they were communicating via holoscreen. Even so, Orion certainly hadn't been looking forward to this conversation.

"Optimus Prime," Lord Halogen said. "We would like an explanation."

Orion tried to think of something that would satisfy them.

"Not only did you lose Tesarus to the Decepticons, along with an unacceptably large percentage of your soldiers, there are rumors that you weren't even involved in directing the battle. Where were you?"

He might as well just tell them what had happened. "I was away from base, training to receive the Matrix of Leadership," he said. "And I did not know about the battle until it was over."

"How is this possible?" Halogen sounded skeptical. "The attack was in the middle of the off-cycle, and surely your mecha would have contacted you, unless the organization of your army is even worse than we thought."

Orion took in a deep vent. "I left for a few orns in order to perform a task necessary for receiving the Matrix. During that task, it was not possible for them to contact me. We could not have foreseen that the Decepticons would attack when they did. Furthermore, one of our commanders was nearly assassinated and so he couldn't help direct the battle."

Halogen shook his helm. "Last time we spoke, I believe I made it clear that you will not be receiving the Matrix of Leadership until after you have defeated the Decepticons. This loss is unacceptable. Megatron has three city-states now, Prime, and all of them are major energon resources. You cannot allow this sort of thing to happen."

"I apologize," Orion said.

"Apologies will not get Tesarus back," Halogen said. "You must reclaim it."

Orion's optics widened. "You want me to… you want me to take the city back?"

"Yes," Halogen said.

"We don't have the resources for that."

"Perhaps if you were willing to accept our guidance, you would. For a start, we can help you draft mecha from the lower classes as soldiers."

"I will not force mecha to fight."

"Then you will lose this war, and we will all die. You must stop Megatron before he becomes too powerful."

Orion looked down.

"Prime," Halogen said. "We may disagree about many things, but we are not your enemies. If you lose, then we lose, and if we lose then so does all of Cybertron. Megatron will fill the world with chaos. Our main priority is to prevent that—to keep the peace."

He almost sounded sincere.

Almost.

"You have good intentions," Halogen said. "And you are admittedly a charismatic leader, but you do not have the experience that we do. Draw from our experience. If we work together, we can end this war before it's too late, and then you can work on receiving the Matrix."

Orion wished that he could trust these mecha. The Tesarus battle had been a heavy blow to his resources, and it would be nice to have some advice from more experienced mecha.

But not the Iacon Council.

"I am sorry," Orion said. "But I know that if I allow you to influence me, you will try to take my army for yourselves. I would be glad to accept your help, but only on my terms. My promise still stands—if you assist me, then when this is all over, I will grant you freedom and amnesty. But I will not make myself answerable to you ever again."

Halogen's expression didn't change. If he was disappointed by Orion's answer, he didn't show it. "Very well," he said at length. "We would advise you to do everything in your power to reclaim that city. We would also advise you not to leave your army leaderless for orns at a time."

Orion nodded. "Thank you."

"When you are ready to accept our help, feel free to get in touch with us."

"I will. Thank you for your time."

"It is our pleasure," Halogen said. "Until we speak again."

Orion nodded.

The screen went blank.

Megatron tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne, waiting anxiously for an answer from Vos. It didn't really matter if he accomplished his goal in this meeting. He didn't really need to make an alliance with Vos. He just needed to open up communications with them—to receive permission to visit their city-state. The alliance would come later—after they enacted Starscream's plan.

Starscream's plan was dangerous, and Megatron was more nervous about that than he wanted to admit. It could backfire on them so easily if it went wrong. They would have to be careful.

But if it did work…

He checked his internal timepiece. The Vosian official was three breems late, now. He glanced at Starscream, who didn't seem worried, then at Soundwave.

What do you think about this? He wondered.

It took Soundwave several astroseconds to comm. him with an answer.

"I don't like it. I think it could have unintended consequences, even if everything goes as planned."

Megatron nodded. That could be true.

It was interesting that Soundwave hadn't made any moral arguments about it, though…

"Would it help if I did?" Soundwave asked.

A valid point—Megatron didn't really care if Soundwave thought Starscream's plan was morally allowable or not. But normally, the mech had something to say about this sort of thing.

If you have a concern, I'd like you to tell me, whether or not you think I'll listen. Megatron thought. He didn't want to lose Soundwave's loyalty, or miss out on potentially useful advice from him. That mech was the only one he felt like he could trust.

And so long as Megatron could trust him, he couldn't lose.

"If you feel like this is wrong, you shouldn't do it," Soundwave said. "You know I don't like it. But if it will help win the war quickly, then I won't argue."

Megatron smiled. He liked this new attitude a lot better than the mech's earlier take on things.

The holoscreen lit up, and Megatron sat up in his seat and stopped drumming his fingers on the arm.

"We are receiving a communi-ication from Vos," Soundwave said.

"Thank you, Soundwave." Megatron said. And thank you for supporting me.

A seeker appeared on the screen. Megatron had never seen him before, but he recognized the mech's arrogant stance, and his disdainful expression.

The rich and the powerful all thought they were better than anyone else.

"Good orn, Megatron," the mech said.

Megatron nodded, trying to remind himself that he needed to keep his cool—he needed this conversation to go well. "Thank you very much for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me," he said.

He needed this mech—this minor official to make his case to the Vos Council. He only needed his pede in the door, though. He only had to develop the beginnings of a working relationship with the city-state, so the Autobots got nervous. So they got desperate.

"I'm interested to hear what you have to say." The seeker didn't look interested. In fact, he was studying something off to the side of the screen now—not even paying attention.

"Well," Megatron said. "Considering the extent of my resources and your resources, I believe we could stand to benefit from one another."

"Hmph," The seeker said. "You want our help in your war, as I suspected. That's disappointing."

Megatron chose his words carefully. "We know we can't ask you to stoop so low as to fight alongside the likes of my troops, but there are other ways in which the mecha of Vos might benefit alongside us as we continue to expand our empire."

The seeker returned his attention to the screen. "Very well," he said. "I'm glad you know your place, groundpounder. I am listening."

He could promise them anything—it didn't matter, because he wouldn't need to follow through.

In the end, he would have all the seekers fighting for him without giving them anything at all. This was only the first step.