"If I'm being completely honest," the news anchor said. "No one is sure whether to celebrate or hide under their berths right now. And we all want to know what your plan is, what you're going to do about the loss of the Council."

Orion faced the camera, trying to look as calm and confident as he could. "We will do all we can," he said. "The Council, while openly corrupt, did manage the affairs of the city, and with them gone there is real concern that things may devolve into chaos."

Honestly, he wasn't sure if he could prevent that. He would do his best, but... there were so many things he just couldn't do.

"We cannot replace the Council, nor do we wish to, but my hope is that we can keep things as stable as possible, and the Autobots will handle administration until another method of maintaining order can be put in place."

They already had so much to do. If Megatron attacked now, Orion wasn't sure if his army would be able to defend, not with the entire command element working on plans to keep the city from collapsing in on itself... But he couldn't worry about that now. He had to finish his speech and hope that it would make a difference—that it would convince the citizens of Iacon to participate in keeping the peace.

"However, we cannot do this on our own. I will need the help of every mech, femme, and youngling in this city-state. We need you to stay calm and to be patient. I cannot promise that the next several decaorns will be easy. Eventually, I hope things will be better than they were before, but that will take time.

"To everyone listening, I vow that we will do our best to keep things under control from the top, but I need every citizen and soldier among my listeners to keep things under control in your homes and in your neighborhoods. Many of you are afraid or angry. Some others may see this as an opportunity for misconduct and lawbreaking. I assure you that the laws of this city-state will still be enforced, just as they were before. Besides, I see a brighter opportunity in this tragedy. Megatron has committed yet another act of terrorism in the hopes that he can turn us against ourselves. We must prove to him that he can't. This is an opportunity to prove to him, to each other, and to all of Cybertron that this great city-state can stand together in peace, no matter what happens. I implore each of you to help us prove that."

Orion went on to describe in more detail what the Autobots would be doing, and what he expected the citizens of Iacon to do.

More mecha had died in Kaon due to rioting than at the hands of the newly-formed Decepticons.

Orion would not allow that to happen in his city.

This meeting had already gone on too long. Jazz let his processor wander as he slumped down in his chair. The Council being gone was kind of a mess—the kind of mess he really didn't want to deal with. This was why he'd opted to leave Quantum instead of sticking around to destroy the organization.

That sort of thing was possible, but it was never simple, especially after the old regime was gone.

"…Jazz?"

Jazz looked up. Everyone was watching him. "Um… ya mind repeating that, Prime?"

"I asked if you had any further ideas about retrieving the Key to Vector Sigma."

So they were back to this topic again. They'd gone around a few times. What to do about the key? What do to about the Council and the fact that there was no leadership in the city? What to do about the Elite Guard who had abandoned the Council to their fate against Orion's wishes but wanted to join the Autobots now? Who should be in charge of figuring out the different pieces of this great big mess?

Well, Jazz could do his part. "Yeah," he said. "I told ya, it'll be hard, but it ain't impossible. I'll just go down ta Kaon and see if I can't steal it back."

"If…" Orion said, looking troubled. "Jazz, I can still feel the key. I believe I would be able to locate it if I came along."

"Are you fragging kidding me?" Jazz said, even before Ironhide or Red Alert could protest. "Even if ya weren't suddenly the busiest mech on the face of the planet, there is no way I'd let ya put yourself in that sort of danger."

"And Soundwave can't hear my thoughts," Orion pointed out.

Jazz hesitated—that was a fair point. "Still too dangerous."

Orion sighed. "In any case, you're right. I'm too busy for a trip to Kaon at the moment, but... at least think about letting me help. I'd be able to lead you to the key, wherever it is."

Jazz nodded. "Thanks, mech," he said. "I'll do that."

He caught Ironhide glaring at him and smiled and shook his helm slightly, hoping the other mech understood that he was not considering bringing Orion along on a mission like this. "But really, let me take the key problem. I'll get it back for ya."

"Thank you," Orion said, and the topic changed again.

Jazz studied the table, wondering whether Megatron would keep the key with him or hide it somewhere. This mission would require some recon before Jazz could actually attempt to steal the key. He wished Soundwave couldn't read his mind. That would make things so much easier.

Still, he could do this. This was just another challenge—something to test himself against. He'd outwitted the telepath before, and he could do it again.

He had to.

Getting that key back was not optional.

He leaned his chair back on two legs as he contemplated how to go about the task. Megatron would surely keep the key close, and Soundwave went pretty much wherever Megatron went, so there was little hope of stealing it without them knowing. But he could work with that, especially if he came up with a good enough plan. He was overdue for a visit to Kaon anyway. He did have a steady stream of information coming to him from the Decepticon capitol, courtesy of his lingering ties to Quantum, but it would be good to check on things personally…

The door to the meeting room opened, revealing an old, scarred mech. He looked vaguely familiar…he was one of the mechs who trained soldiers, wasn't he? And... Jazz had seen him somewhere before, but a lot of his memory files were damaged so he couldn't figure out when.

In any case, he didn't belong in this meeting room. How had he gotten into the tower? Jazz watched the mech out of the corner of one optic, lowering his chair down to the floor again, and scooting it away from the table so he could get up quickly if he needed to.

The old mech didn't come in, though, just crossed his arms and stood in the doorway, looking surly. Slowly the room fell to silence as the other mecha noticed him. Ironhide looked confused, Orion looked worried, and Prowl would have seemed calm except that the hand holding his datapad was shaking ever so slightly.

"Who are you?" Red Alert demanded. "How did you get in here!"

"I asked nicely," the mech growled, then addressed Orion. "Prime, I got a message for you."

Ironhide answered. "From who?" he said. "Couldn't you have commed us, Kup?"

"From me," the old mech said. "I guess… I guess I have something to say to you too, mechling. I'm quitting the whole training thing."

"What?" Ironhide said. "But we need—"

"I can't keep sending all these mechlings out to get themselves blown up, I'm done. I'm... sorry."

"What is the message for me?" Orion asked, voice barely more than a whisper, in a tone that suggested he didn't actually want to know. There was an almost tangible tension in the atmosphere as Kup made optic contact with the Prime.

"Yoketron's dead."

Jazz froze.

"I don't know how that factors into your training," Kup said. "But I thought you ought to know."

Orion bowed his helm and was silent.

"That's all." Kup nodded, then turned and left.

The door closed behind him and no one spoke for several astroseconds.

Eventually, Ultra Magnus turned to look at Orion. "Prime, Sir?"

"Meeting adjourned," Orion said. "For now. We'll… continue this discussion in the meeting next orn."

He got up from the table and left the room, and Elita got up and followed him out.

Then, slowly, the others took to their pedes, and trickled out as well.

"How would that mech know if Yoketron's offline?" Ratchet grumbled quietly, breaking the spell of quiet. Quiet murmuring accompanied the end of the exodus, with Ironhide explaining that Yoketron and that other old mech had been brothers, and Chromia and Moonracer whispering about whether Orion was all right.

Prowl got up from the table when Ultra Magnus did, and walked stiffly to the door, avoiding optic contact with everyone. From what Jazz knew, that was fairly normal, but he couldn't help being concerned anyway. Yoketron had been training him too.

Frag.

Jazz had never had a chance to apologize to the old mech for getting in so much trouble when he was younger. He'd always put it off…

And now it was too late.

He shoved that thought aside and hurried after Mainspring. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, and he couldn't do that until he'd talked to the other mech.

Mainspring saw him, and led the way to his office.

"So," Jazz said once they were inside. "I'm going ta Kaon as soon as I can, probably within the joor. I'm just gonna go do some recon this time, probably, then maybe come back for a bit."

"That is a lot of probablys and maybes," Mainspring said. "I assume you want me to take over your half of the department while you're gone."

"Yes," Jazz said. "I should be a few orns at the most, and I'll try ta contact ya pretty frequently. I wanna make sure ya be careful about something, though. I've been doing it, but I'll be gone, so I need ya ta take over."

"Yes?" Mainspring said.

"The 'cons still got that shapeshifter mech. Whenever anyone comes back from a mission, ya need ta check and make sure it's them."

Mainspring nodded. "We'll be careful about that."

"I did my research," Jazz said. "There are some good ways ta know. Mechformers can't take your comm. code, so if someone claims their comm. is damaged, but won't go see Ratchet about it, that's a dead giveaway. Also, special mods like Mirage's won't get transferred ta him. And just ta make sure, ya should interview everymech that comes back from anywhere they could get captured. Ask them questions, but pay more attention ta the way they talk."

Mainspring nodded.

"And we should give the whole department some training on that, maybe after I get that key back. I don't have time right now."

"I'll pass on the information," Mainspring said. "I think it would be better coming from you, but I can train them a little. I've looked into it as well."

Mirage commed him, but Jazz didn't answer just yet. "There's some other stuff ya should know while I'm gone," Jazz set a datapad down on the desk. "It's all in here. If ya need anything else, I'm gonna be available over the comm. for at least half a joor."

"All right," Mainspring said. "Good luck."

"Thanks mech," Jazz said and left his office, then answered Mirage's comm. "Hey, sorry 'Raj, ya need something?"

"I heard Megatron stole something important. Are you going to Kaon to get it back?"

"Yep."

"Do you want me to accompany you?"

That was the last thing Jazz had expected to hear. "Do you wanna?"

"Absolutely not," Mirage said. "But I know how important this is and If I can help, I want to help."

Jazz considered it for a few astroseconds. "Thanks mech. This time I'll go on my own. Since we're expecting Soundwave ta be there, ya wouldn't be much help." That was a lie, but he didn't want Mirage going back there yet, not when the possibility of being captured was this high.

Jazz was almost glad for the excuse to leave. He was starting to get really sick of this tower, and he didn't want to be here now. What with the death of the Council and the mess that was going to cause, plus Yoketron being offline...

Honestly, though, he would need a break even without all of that. The Tagan Heights battle was still weighing on him.

His promise was well and truly broken now. He'd known it was inevitable, but he'd been trying to hold onto that selfish hope that he wouldn't have to give it up.

It wasn't even the killing itself that bothered him so much—you didn't really think when you were killing someone, about the fact that this was a living, pulsing spark and you were about to snuff it out. Or, at least, Jazz didn't think about that. He didn't think about much at all—he just felt things, and they weren't all unpleasant feelings.

No, it wasn't the killing itself, it was after the killing, when he thought back on it. It was that look on the faceplate of the Autobot soldier who'd seen him, that reminder of the life he'd lived, of the things he'd done in Quantum. The reminder of what he'd been—and what, somewhere deep down, he still was.

He also kept thinking about that young mech who'd been in charge of the unit. It hurt to think that there were so many—so many good, honorable, noble mecha dying in this war. Mecha who Jazz could have been friends with—mecha who laughed and joked one breem and then were gone the next.

And there had to be some of that kind among the enemy—those who were confused, who actually believed in Megatron and his cause, who hated the Autobots because the Autobots had killed their friends, just like they had killed Autobots. War was a downward spiral.

Too much thinking.

Which was why he needed to leave. He needed to get away and immerse himself in a challenge. He could get the Key to Vector Sigma. Maybe with the Matrix of Leadership, Orion would be able to end the war peacefully.

Either way, they needed it.

He left the base and drove. He'd go to Kalis to bridge down to Simfur. Then he'd drive from there to Kaon. It would be nice to give his wheels some exercise.

Orion skimmed through his list of tasks, trying to prioritize, trying not to get overwhelmed. Running an army had been hard enough—now he had to run a city-state and an army.

There were some mecha—some lower government officials—who had requested to be appointed as a temporary Council, but Orion knew they were just as corrupt as the Council had been and he couldn't, in good conscience, put them in charge. So until he could find someone he did trust, he had to be in charge.

He hadn't had a spare moment since the Council had been offlined—it was almost enough to distract him from the fact that Master Yoketron was gone.

Almost.

Orion set his datapad aside for a moment, shuttering his optics and venting deeply. He didn't have time to grieve now. That could wait.

Elita commed him. "Orion, do you have a breem to talk?"

"If it's important, yes."

"We've been getting hundreds of letters from citizens requesting we change various laws, even more than we got last orn. Some of them are reasonable, but a lot of them are just selfish or downright wrong."

"There are some laws that need to be changed."

"That's true, but if we change some, we'll just keep getting more and more of these requests. My team can't keep up with them."

"Can you forward some of the reasonable ones to me?" Orion said. "I'll look over them if I have time."

"All right. Did the Elite Guard issue get solved?"

"Ultra Magnus still doesn't want to trust them, Ironhide wants to trust some of them… I don't know. I should probably talk to them before we make any decisions, and I haven't had time yet."

"Okay," Elita said. "Another thing, Orion. This isn't related to the Council, but it seemed important, so I thought I'd pass it on. Do you remember the Simfur Temple Defender? Venture was his designation. He sent you a message. Something about a problem with the core of Cybertron."

"I'll look at it."

"I've forwarded it to you."

"Thank you."

"Have you gotten any recharge since last orn?"

Orion smiled. "I'm all right."

She knew the answer, he was certain. She hadn't gotten any recharge either, so she really didn't have any grounds to complain that he was working too hard.

"You're a terrible liar."

"I know. I haven't had time. You should get some rest, though."

"If I get some rest, will you?"

"Soon."

"How soon? I'll keep working as long as you do."

"Ellie, please rest. Don't hurt yourself to blackmail me."

"Okay." He could feel her amusement over the bond. "I'll just send Ratchet after you if you don't take a break soon. Is that a more acceptable form of blackmail?"

"Suitably threatening," Orion said. "I'll get some recharge as soon as I can. I promise."

"All right."

"Elita?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

There was a moment of silence, and he felt happiness over the bond, followed quickly by sorrow. Orion shuttered his optics. She deserved more of his time, more of his attention.

"I love you too. Don't feel bad, really, we're all just tired right now. I'll talk to you later." She cut the comm.

Orion went back to work. He needed to hurry now, so he could catch up and get a few joors of recharge. He wasn't really scared of Ratchet—though he had to admit the prospect of the high-strung medic's wrath was a little intimidating. The larger fear was not living up to what Elita needed from him. He tried to force himself to stop feeling guilty, because he knew it bothered her. He didn't need another rant about how she had chosen to be with him and she had known it would be hard, and she was entitled to feeling sad about it without him overreacting.

Well, a tiny part of him did want to hear that rant again, just because it would have prolonged their conversation—because she would put down her work to deliver it very loudly over the comm.

He smiled slightly as he found the message from Venture and opened the file on his datapad.

Then he read:

[Optimus Prime,

I hope this message reaches you swiftly, as this is a matter of utmost importance. We have known—and I presume you do as well—that Primus has been abnormally silent and uninvolved for the past several decavorns. He has not spoken to his original Primes for many vorns and we who look for these things have seen fewer signs of his life and movement than there should be.

The recent drop in energon production in mines around the globe, coupled with the even more recent reports of poisoned energon veins prompted myself and some of my mecha to travel to the core. We wanted to see if we could find anything amiss there or anything that would help us understand Primus's recent silence and stillness.

What we discovered was nothing short of horrifying. The core is poisoned. Primus is ill—he is failing. He may even be offlining, and if he dies, then we will all die with him.

Optimus Prime, you must come to Simfur and visit the core. As the most recent chosen Prime—the world's current connection to our god—you will have the best chance of communicating with him and discovering what ails him.

The sooner you can come, the better. I do not know how much time we have before Primus is too ill to speak. He would not speak to us, and we could not remain there long, because the atmosphere was toxic. I anxiously await your response and a visit from you.

Regards,

Venture

High Defender of Simfur Temple]

Orion read the message a second time, from top to bottom, barely processing the words. The core… poisoned?

He couldn't do this.

The Key, the Council, the core, what next? How many things could they ask him to do? He didn't have time for anything else. He could not leave Iacon and go to Simfur to do this. He could not talk to Primus. Maybe if he had the Matrix—maybe if he was actually a Prime.

This was not his responsibility, and even if it was, what exactly was he supposed to do about it? If Primus was dying, he couldn't prevent it any more than he could turn the sun back or build a third moon. He didn't have any power, or any authority for this. He was just an ordinary mech, trying to save as many lives as he could and right now his city, which he was responsible for, was on the brink of collapse. This was a critical time. He didn't have a breem to spare, much less the orn it would take to make a trip to Simfur and go down to visit the core.

The core. The core was poisoned. How? And Primus was immortal. He couldn't die, could he?

Orion took in a deep vent, trying to calm down. He had no idea what to do about this. But maybe Alpha Trion would. He didn't have to deal with this right now. He could pass it off, he could delegate or at least ask for advice.

He didn't have too much time to spend thinking about it. He started drafting a letter to send back to Venture.

[Venture,

Thank you for your letter. This is very disturbing news. However, I do not feel I am qualified for what you are asking me to do. You may not know this, but I have not yet received the Matrix of Leadership and there are still many obstacles in the way of my acquiring it. I will forward your message to Alpha Trion in the case that you have not already informed him, and ask him to help you. I am also currently unable to leave Iacon. If you are still certain that you specifically need my assistance, I might be able to come in a few quartexes, or maybe even a few decaorns if I can get some other things done]

He re-read what he had so far. It was terrible. It made it sound like he didn't care.

He was tempted to erase it and start over, but how else was he supposed to say this? He didn't want to lie and pretend he was coming. He couldn't just drop everything and go. There was also no chance he could change the outcome of whatever was happening with the core, but he was certain he could change the outcome of what was happening in Iacon. He continued.

[My deep apologies. I understand that it sounds as if I am taking this lightly. I promise you, what you described in your letter terrifies me. But I know no way to repair it, and forgive me, but if Primus isn't talking to the original thirteen, there is no chance of him talking to one such as me. If I leave Iacon now, mecha will offline. Please understand, I wish I could do something but I cannot go in person.

Sincere apologies,

Optimus Prime]

It was still terrible, but it was the truth. He sent it, then sent Alpha Trion a quick message along with a copy of Venture's letter. Then he went back to what he'd been working on before.

The wall-length monitor was covered with text and lines, references and cross-references. Alpha Trion stood at his computer console, fingers moving almost of their own accord as he studied, analyzed, and made connections. He felt like he was missing something. Something important, some piece to the puzzle that he hadn't found.

There was always more that you could learn from the Covenant of Primus.

Primus could see the future the way a traveler could view a rugged landscape. He couldn't see everything, but he knew if he made certain decisions, it would take lead to certain outcomes. After that first disastrous interaction with the Quintessons, Primus had decided to withdraw himself from society. Instead of giving immediate guidance and counsel like he had before that time, he had given Alpha Trion the Covenant of Primus to be their guidebook.

Primus had still spoken, of course, at least to Alpha Trion and his siblings. He had been available to give guidance and clarification as needed…at least until recently. Alpha Trion hadn't spoken to him for more than a decavorn—neither had any of the other Primes. It was one of the things that had, for the past ten vorns, made him even more desperate to find the last Prime that the Covenant spoke of.

The next several chapters in this world's history were going to be very dark. Alpha Trion still didn't understand why, but it almost seemed like Primus was doing more than just letting it happen. He had chosen Yoketron to train Optimus… had he known that Yoketron would also train Megatron? In the Covenant, it was predicted that two great leaders would rise up to fight each other, one a champion for the light, the other for darkness. One shall stand. One shall fall. Primus had known that this would happen, but had he caused it?

They couldn't ask him. Now that the core was dying, Alpha Trion wasn't even certain Primus was conscious anymore.

Alpha Trion's fingers stilled and he looked down. There were hints in the Covenant about Primus going dark, but nothing that hinted he would be poisoned.

Had he just not wanted to tell them? Or was his malady something he hadn't foreseen?

Alpha Trion got a comm. from Maccadam. Reluctantly, he answered it.

"Where are you?"

"Where do you think?" Alpha Trion replied.

"You're not supposed to go anywhere without taking someone," Maccadam said. "Buddy system, mech."

"Megatronus can't get into the Hall of Records, it's the best-fortified building in the city."

"You're underestimating him," Maccadam said. "I'll send Quintus and Solus to keep you company."

Alpha Trion sighed, but didn't argue. He didn't like living in the basement of his brother's energon bar. He didn't want his siblings here all the time, either.

"So…" Maccadam said over the still-open comm. "What are you going to do about training?"

"Hmm?" Alpha Trion said.

"Orion. About training Orion. Yoketron's offline."

Alpha Trion froze. "He… he's offline?"

"Yeah, I thought you knew that. He went in to save Orion from the Council, and the Decepticons captured him. Kup says he's offline."

Alpha Trion knew that the Decepticons had the Key to Vector Sigma now, but he hadn't heard about Yoketron.

This was not good.

"You can train him at my place if you want," Maccadam said. "It's secure, and I can get him here without endangering him too much."

Alpha Trion looked up at the monitor, where all of his work on the Covenant of Primus was.

"Alph?"

Yoketron was offline… but he was supposed to train the last Prime. That was one of the few things Alpha Trion had never questioned. How could the mech have offlined, after surviving so long? How could he have been so careless…

Everything was going wrong. Primus was ill, Yoketron was offline, the Key to Vector Sigma was in the hands of the wrong champion, and Orion was not ready to receive the Matrix.

This couldn't all be part of the plan, could it? What was he missing?

"Alph? Hello?"

"I need to think about this," he said. "I'll talk to you later." He cut the comm, and immediately his datapad pinged.

Frowning, he checked it and saw he had a message from Orion. Hoping against hope for good news, he opened the message and began to read.

But it was only more trouble.

Notes:

1. There will be a spare parts chapter next week Monday or Tuesday.

2. Thanks for reading!