The groundbridge station had been farther than Blaster expected, and he was ready to find somewhere to hide and recharge with his symbiots, even if this turned out to be the right one.
He stumbled across the empty street, yawning. He'd get as close as possible, stretch his range out, and then go find somewhere to rest.
The front doors opened and a group of mecha came hurrying out, glancing behind themselves nervously as if they were scared something was chasing them.
Blaster stopped and stretched his range out to cover them. He could already see they were Autobots because they wore the red symbols on their shoulders.
We should get back to the other building.
I still can't send comms. Maybe we aren't far enough away.
I hope the Commander's all right. I've heard of Soundwave, and he seems dangerous…
Blaster's optics widened.
Soundwave was here.
He waited for the other mecha to leave, then rushed his symbiots out of the road.
"Stay here," he said, gesturing for them to hide by the side of the building. "I have to go in by myself."
"What?" Steeljaw said. "No…"
"Just wait here, I'll be okay," Blaster said. He didn't want to put any of them in danger, just in case Soundwave was as crazy as all the Autobots seemed to think he was.
Then he pushed his range out over the whole building. There were only a few mecha in it. A group of Autobots hiding in a small room, wondering what was happening. A panicked mech watching the cameras, afraid for his life, the life of someone designated Prowl, the lives of everyone else in the building, and the lives of the Autobot soldiers in Iacon.
And then there was Soundwave, chasing a Praxian.
That must be Prowl.
Blaster jogged into the building, feeling shaky, but alert. Soundwave was keeping his range small so he could focus better on killing Prowl. That was bad because it meant Blaster couldn't get in his range and stop him without getting close.
The mech watching the cameras noticed him.
What the frag is a youngling doing in here? Where did he come from? Who is he? I left the front door open… should I close it? Should I try to get everyone else out while Soundwave's distracted?
He's going to kill Prowl… he's going to kill Prowl and we're all going to die!
Blaster tried to ignore him so he could focus on Prowl and Soundwave.
Prowl was looking for a defensible position as he ran. He needed to find somewhere Soundwave couldn't sneak up on him—somewhere he could stall long enough for help to come.
Blaster ran faster. Soundwave was ready. He was going to come around the corner and shoot Prowl while he was still…
Prowl heard Soundwave's pedesteps ahead of him and skidded to a stop, raising his gun to aim toward the noise. This isn't exactly the defensible spot I was hoping for, but I suppose it'll do.
Soundwave stopped, just around the corner, thinking.
He can hear me. Prowl thought. He knows I'm ready for him. He knows I'll shoot him the moment he steps out into the hall.
But Soundwave wasn't worried. He had Ravage with him, and Laserbeak was already flying around to cut Prowl off from the other side. I have him trapped.
He can hear what I'm thinking. But I can hear him too—I can hear his engine running. Prowl listened closely. There… he's shifted his hand into some sort of integrated gun… he's hesitating—he knows I'll shoot anything that comes around the corner, probably before he can aim at me. I doubt he's had much training with a gun, and I'm a pretty good shot…
Blaster had to get inside Soundwave's range to startle him—to stop him—before it was too late.
His symbiot's coming from the other side, the mech watching the cameras thought. Prowl's trapped. Frag it, I can't tell him…
I just need to wait this out, Prowl thought.
Blaster wasn't going to get there fast enough.
Prowl heard something behind him—a humming, whirring sound. It took him an astrosecond to identify it.
Frag it, Red Alert, you said he was alone!
Laserbeak came around the corner at the other end of the hall.
Prowl kept his gun pointing toward the corner Soundwave was hiding behind. It's just a symbiot—just a distraction.
Then he heard laserfire and something hit him in the back.
Or not.
Prowl spun, powering up his battle computer to help him aim. He shot at Laserbeak and then jumped out of the way as Soundwave stepped out into the hall and fired at him.
Ravage bounded toward him with an enraged growl.
Blaster ran harder, desperate. They had to stop! He had to stop them!
Prowl ignored Ravage and fired at Soundwave.
Soundwave dodged and took the shot in his arm instead of where it mattered.
I have one more chance before that cat jumps on me…
But he'd forgotten Laserbeak, who had managed to fly up from the ground, injured and furious. She crashed into Prowl's doorwing, throwing off his aim, and he missed again while she fell to the ground, dizzy.
No… Prowl stared hopelessly at Soundwave's blank screen as Soundwave closed the distance between them.
Ravage jumped on him and by the time Prowl had knocked the cat away, Soundwave had closed in and was pointing a gun right at his helm.
Everything went still for a moment.
Soundwave took in a deep vent. It'll be easy. I just have to pull my range in and then pull the trigger and wait for his spark to go out…
Blaster was almost there.
Prowl could hear his pedesteps. Fast and light… someone small… what?
I won this round. I just have to finish him off, and then we can win the war and put everything right… I have to do this…
He hadn't pulled his range back yet, but he was about to.
Just two more astroseconds…
One more…
Blaster sprinted into Soundwave's range. Soundwave jerked backward with a staticky scream as his processor exploded with feedback. Blaster's helm was full of white fire as well for a moment, before the older telepath yanked his range in. What… Blaster… what are you doing here?
"Stop!" Blaster came running around the corner. "Let him go."
Prowl didn't miss the opportunity. He shoved Soundwave away and grabbed for his gun.
"No!" Blaster shouted.
Ravage leaped on Prowl, digging his claws in deep, obviously trying to prevent the Praxian from reaching his weapon.
Blaster reached Soundwave's new, smaller range, and Soundwave was forced to pull it in even further.
Soundwave put a hand to his splitting helm. I can't fight Prowl with Blaster interfering, but Prowl won't be affected by the youngling. I have to get out of here. I have to get Ravage and Laserbeak out of here...
"Let's go!" he said, then sprinted away from Blaster. He scooped Laserbeak up from the ground, and kept running. Ravage leaped off of Prowl to follow them.
Prowl grabbed his gun, and raised it to aim at the retreating mech, but Blaster darted in front of him.
"Don't," he said. "Don't shoot them."
Prowl stared at him, lowering the gun. "Who are you?" he asked. "What…" he narrowed his optics.
"I'm Blaster. I'm uh… here to join the Autobots?"
The other telepath… Primus, that's why Soundwave… he saved me… Prowl set the gun down and got slowly to his pedes. Ravage's claws had left several deep, leaking gashes on the Praxian's frame, but he was just relieved to be alive. He looked down the hall in the direction Soundwave had disappeared.
"If that's okay?" Blaster asked.
If what was okay? Blaster joining the Autobots? "Yes," Prowl said quietly. "I think that will be all right."
"I'm good here," Moonracer said.
"You sure?" Chromia asked.
"There's only one way they can come at me, and I have plenty of ammo," Moonracer replied as Chromia helped her sit down at the end of the hall. "Go help Elita."
"Okay," Chromia said. "Good luck."
"You'll need it more than me," Moonracer said. "Go."
Chromia transformed and sped back down the hall. She had to switch back to root mode to go down the stairs, but she still got outside relatively quickly.
She could see the group of Decepticons, chasing Elita and her mecha down the street, followed closely by the combiner.
Idiot. That street was a dead end.
Chromia went back inside and took the building's back door, which was unlocked, fortunately.
She drove down the adjacent street as fast as her tires could take her, anxiously monitoring her sibling bond. Sibling bonds were frustratingly weak compared to spark bonds, but she could tell Elita was alive and not badly hurt.
She had time. She just had to get ahead of those Decepticons and cut across again…
And then what?
She couldn't fight a combiner, could she?
She had a couple of grenades, and that thing had to have weak spots. Maybe if she was careful, she could take it out, or at least slow it down.
She drove faster. Even from the next block over, she could feel the combiner's pedes shaking the ground.
She wasn't going to let that thing kill her sister.
She felt Ironhide reach out to her, and she reached back, grateful for his support and for the knowledge that he was still fighting too.
He was scared, but he wasn't going to let it stop him.
She got far enough ahead and then skidded to a stop, transformed, and ran toward the buildings to the side of the road. Elita had cornered herself in a dead end. All the buildings would be locked from her side, and there were fences around them. Didn't she fragging remember that you couldn't get out of this street?
Chromia reached the closest building and pulled out one of her grenades. She pulled the pin, dropped it, then took cover behind a scrap bin just in time.
Then she rushed in through the broken doorway. Alarms went off—the building was a department store, dark and empty except for the annoying flashing red lights.
Chromia found a wide enough aisle and transformed, racing across the store, afraid she was taking too long.
She didn't have a grenade to waste on the other door, so she drove up a ramp to the third floor where there were balconies open to the outside.
She transformed out on the balcony and looked down at the scene below. Elita's mecha fought desperately, but they were evenly matched in numbers except that the Decepticons had that combiner.
She could see Elita down there too, fighting alongside the soldiers.
And the combiner was about to pass right by the balcony. It would be a crazy jump, possibly too far…
Eh.
Chromia pulled out her second grenade and activated its magnetism function. Then she backed up, got a running start, and boosted herself over the railing, leaping out above the street. She grinned as she marked her trajectory and realized she was going to make it.
Then she crashed right into the combiner's helm and managed to stick the grenade to its neck before being thrown off.
She flew through the atmosphere, trying to orient herself…
Crashed into the ground and rolled…
Blackness closed in, but she fought to stay conscious.
Distantly, she could hear mecha shouting, and explosions, and huge crashing sounds.
She could hear Elita…
"…Chromia! Chromia, please…"
The world came into focus, along with a sharp, pulsing pain down her entire right side. Elita was kneeling over her, looking anxious.
Chromia struggled to a sitting position, grimacing. She was scraped and dented all over, and her right arm and leg were practically crushed, but other than that she was all right.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," Chromia said, looking over at the combiner, which was now a crumpled hill of limbs. "Frag, did that actually work?"
"I don't think it's dead," Elita said, "But you did bring it down."
Chromia gasped as she felt Ironhide get hurt.
"…and we're pushing the 'Cons back." Elita continued. "Come on, let's get you somewhere…" She trailed off, optics wide.
"Elita?" Chromia said.
Elita collapsed forward, and Chromia caught her, wincing.
"Hey! Ellie! What's wrong?"
Elita's optics were shuttered and she didn't seem to be conscious.
Ahead of her, the combiner shifted, then started pushing itself up. It was leaking heavily, but it raised its helm and glared at her with murderous red optics.
She tried to get up, but she couldn't lift Elita.
The combiner collapsed again, but kept struggling to get up.
Ironhide was hurt worse now… He was scared.
Prowl commed her, and she answered immediately.
"Where the frag did you go?" she growled.
"Is Elita all right? I can't reach her."
"She passed out, and there's a combiner and Ironhide's dying, do something!"
"Help is on the way," Prowl said. "For you, at least. Ironhide went into the Decepticons' base of operations alone, and I don't think I can get to him."
"What!"
The combiner was trying to get up again.
Elita stirred in Chromia's arms.
"Ellie? Come on, Ellie, wake up, I can't carry you."
Elita started glowing. She opened too-bright optics and stared off into some distance Chromia couldn't see. Light came from the cracks between her armor plating as well. It looked like it was coming from her spark chamber
"Ellie!"
What the frag was happening?
She felt Ironhide reach out to her over the bond with an apology.
The combiner labored to its knees.
No…
Elita stopped glowing. Her optics went back to a normal brightness. She blinked, then pushed away from Chromia, looking disoriented.
"Elita, get down!"
Just as she said that, an explosion hit the combiner from behind and it fell forward again with a crash.
When the sound faded, Chromia heard engines, and then a group of Autobots led by Ultra Magnus drove around the collapsed giant.
He transformed and approached them. "Commander Elita One," he said, nodding deferentially. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," Elita replied softly. "I feel fine." She shuttered her optics. "I'm not hurt."
The ground trembled, then shook violently.
Chromia gritted her denta as she was jostled around by the bucking road. Several Autobots fell to their knees. Elita sank to the ground, kneeling next to Chromia.
She heard crashing—buildings collapsing—twisting, shrieking metal.
The shaking seemed to go on forever.
The sounds of explosions from above stopped.
Autoceptor turned to look back down the hall. They'd taken cover under the stage once the seekers had started bombing the roof. The whole place had collapsed, and there were a lot of soldiers buried under the rubble, but someone had found a hidden door under the stage that led down into the lower levels of the city-state. They'd been able to get a good portion of the prisoners out that way.
"What?" Hound said, coming up beside him.
"They've stopped," Autoceptor said. "We can go back and look for survivors."
A few of the Autobots further in the tunnel stopped too.
Then the ground trembled.
Autoceptor frowned. Maybe they hadn't quit bombing the auditorium after all…
The shaking intensified, and Autoceptor stumbled to the side and had to grab a nearby support pillar to stay upright. He held on, waiting for it to be over. He'd never felt shaking like this before, not even after Vos had fallen. He could hear shouting and confusion down the tunnel too—this was huge…
It stopped, eventually, and Autoceptor pushed away from the pillar, scowling.
"What the frag…"
The constant, unfailing lights that ran like veins through the lower levels of the city—the lights powered by the Core itself—went out, plunging the tunnel into blackness.
Megatron buried his blade deep in the Autobot commander's frame, relishing the pain on the mech's faceplate as he was pinned to the wall.
It had been a surprisingly difficult fight, but it had ended predictably.
Just like the war was about to end. Megatron could see it in Ironhide's optics as the mech glared bitterly at him.
It was all over.
Megatron smirked. "You're a worthy opponent. If we were in the arena, I'd offer you mercy." He turned his arm, twisting the blade.
Ironhide gasped, arching his back.
"But as it is…"
He trailed off as he heard a groundbridge open behind him.
Wasn't there a groundbridge shield up? Had the Autobots taken it down?
"Megatron!"
He stopped.
He knew that voice.
All right then.
Megatron pulled his blade free from Ironhide's chassis and let the Autobot commander slump to the ground. Then he turned to face his new opponent.
"Finally decided to show up, Pax? It took you much longer to come help your friends than to come to the Council's aid. I wonder what that says about..." he trailed off.
Something was wrong.
This mech looked like Orion—same colors, same faceplate, same bright blue optics.
But he was taller, sturdier.
And even more than that, Megatron had never seen that cold, unforgiving hardness in the mech's optics.
"What..." Megatron said.
"You have lost this battle." the mech said. "Your forces are scattered and surrounded."
His voice wasn't quite right either. What had happened?
"Surrender, and I will call a cease-fire and allow all of your soldiers to walk free."
Megatron stared. "You... really think I'd surrender to you?"
The mech who wasn't quite Orion stared evenly at him.
But a change in attitude wouldn't save him. The librarian was no match for him in combat. It didn't matter if Megatron's forces were losing—he could still win by killing Orion.
The mech had made the same foolish mistake that Ironhide had.
Megatron rushed forward, raising his energon-stained blade.
Optimus pulled a sword of his own from subspace and blocked Megatron's first three attacks effortlessly.
Megatron fell back, staring.
This wasn't...
This couldn't be Orion.
He narrowed his optics. "Who… who are you?"
"I am Optimus Prime," the mech said solemnly. "I have spoken with Primus and he bestowed the Matrix of Leadership upon me."
A chill ran down Megatron's back. "No..."
Optimus Prime met his optics calmly. "Cybertron is in peril. We cannot waste resources fighting. Surrender, and we can work together to save our world."
Megatron shook his helm. This could not be. All of his work to secure the Key to Vector Sigma—all of his plans...
"Megatron."
"No!" Megatron roared, charging forward, trying to knock his foe off balance. The Prime was forced to retreat, step by step. Megatron grinned. He could still win. He was still the stronger fighter. Maybe this was better anyway. There was no challenge—no thrill—in fighting a Hall of Records clerk. But to fight and kill a Prime…
The ground heaved harder beneath his pedes and Megatron lost his footing.
Optimus didn't miss the opportunity, and in a moment, Megatron felt his legs swept out from beneath him.
He hit the ground hard, and when his vision cleared, the shaking had stopped and the newly-empowered Prime's blade was resting against his chest, right above his spark.
He looked into Optimus's hard optics and saw a different way the war might end this orn.
This couldn't be happening.
He was supposed to win.
It had been a fluke. He'd been winning before that quake.
He stared up at Optimus, who met his gaze unfeelingly.
Astroseconds ticked by.
"Well," Megatron said. "What are you waiting for?"
The Prime took in a deep vent. "If you surrender, and disband the Decepticons, I will grant you amnesty."
Megatron blinked, surprised. He was at the mech's mercy, and surely Optimus knew he couldn't be trusted.
Why grant him mercy?
He hesitated, then took a gamble. "I won't," he said. "What are you going to do about it?"
"You will be tried for your crimes against Cybertron," Optimus said.
"You won't kill me?"
"Not unless it becomes necessary."
Megatron smirked. "You're still soft. Still weak on the inside, aren't you?"
Optimus's expression flickered. For a moment, he was Orion again.
But the tip of his sword was still resting on Megatron's chest.
And he'd still won this round.
Megatron had no desire to be taken prisoner.
"Why don't we make a deal?" he said.
Optimus was silent.
"I know you don't want to kill me, and I'll never surrender to you. Why don't you let me go? I'll retreat with my forces and no one else has to die this orn."
No answer. He could tell the Prime was considering it, though.
"I'll give you this," Megatron reached into subspace and pulled out the Key to Vector Sigma. "If you still want it."
Optimus pulled his sword away. "Very well," he said, and reached down to help Megatron to his pedes.
Megatron got up, forcing himself to smirk. He hated accepting mercy from this mech. "Even now that you don't need it, you can't resist a powerful artifact, can you?" He held up the Key.
"That is a sacred relic," Optimus said sternly. "And you are not worthy to possess it. But it is not the reason I am allowing you to leave."
"Of course," Megatron said, and walked past the Prime toward the door.
"Megatron! Give me the Key."
Megatron stopped. "You're a fool, Optimus Prime," he said.
He tossed the key to the side and shot it while it was still in the atmosphere. Then he walked past Ironhide's crumpled form and strolled down the hall into his makeshift command center, scowling.
He ought to go back and fight Optimus again. He might still win...
But the mech's transformation was unsettling, and Megatron needed time to think—time to reconsider his plans.
He'd never expected Orion to actually get the Matrix.
This changed everything.
"Sir," one of his tacticians said. "We're losing—"
"I know," Megatron said. "It is time to return to Kaon." He glanced over his shoulder. "We'll make it back here some orn. But it might take longer than I anticipated."
Elita stumbled wearily toward the courtyard, supporting Chromia, who could barely stand on her own.
She knew they had won, but it felt hollow.
Two things were true.
First, the Core had gone dark. She had felt it. For one moment, she'd been connected to Primus—for one moment she'd felt the Great Creator dying.
And then nothing.
Second, Orion was gone.
He wasn't dead. She could feel him through the bond.
But he was so different… It wasn't him anymore.
When he'd left her back in Nova Cronum, he really had left her forever.
And now she wasn't sure what to do. She was still bonded to him, but it was strange, uncomfortable. She knew he was here, somewhere nearby. But she didn't want to talk to him. She didn't know how to feel. Betrayed, resigned, horrified…?
They'd nearly reached the edge of the makeshift camp when Chromia lurched away from her, stumbling to the side.
"Hey!" Elita said, chasing after her sister. "What…"
Chromia sank to her knees with a frustrated shout of pain, just as Elita caught up to her.
"Chromia, what…"
She followed her injured sister's gaze and froze.
He was here.
The stranger she was bonded to was carrying Ironhide into the camp. She watched as he handed the unconscious mech off to a couple of medics.
"Ironhide…" Chromia sobbed.
Right. "Come on," Elita said, and helped Chromia up. "Let's go make sure he's okay."
She helped her sister over to the berth where the medics were frantically tying off energon lines and putting the big red warrior on spark support.
Elita backed away and stood still, not sure what to do, not wanting to look at the mech standing beside her.
"Elita," he said solemnly.
She took in a deep vent. "Optimus Prime, I presume."
His voice was the same, but different. Still rich and warm, but older. Centivorns older.
"Yes," he said, feeling uncomfortable. "You disregarded my decision and attacked Megatron. You put yourself in danger."
"Yeah?" she huffed. "Well… you… took the Matrix. Without even…"
She turned to look at him and was held captive for a moment by his piercing blue optics.
"I did what I had to," Optimus said.
"So did I," Elita replied. "Prime, Sir."
His optics were the same exact color, and he looked so similar, just larger, harder, more intimidating.
Another wave of sorrow washed over her.
His expression softened slightly, and he sent a gentle feeling of reassurance over the bond.
It made her feel sick. Orion was gone, and she was not comfortable with this mech feeling her emotions.
"I am sorry," he said.
"It's fine, Sir," Elita said, taking some twisted comfort in how much he still hated being called 'Sir' "I just… need some time to think. Excuse me."
She turned and fled back the way she'd come. She couldn't do this. His emotions over the bond were like listening to the wrong instrument playing a familiar song.
And she couldn't escape from it, no matter what she did.
Prowl stepped through the groundbridge and Blaster followed him with all his symbiots. The rest of Prowl's team was still back in Nova Cronum, getting ready to move here and giving assignments to various units.
Optimus stood at the top of the stairs, in front of the shattered, broken front doors of the Hall of Records. Prowl and Blaster approached him and he turned to face them.
Prowl hesitated.
He knew Orion had received the Matrix, but he hadn't expected such a dramatic difference in the way the mech held himself.
The Prime smiled sadly. "Prowl."
"Optimus Prime," Prowl bowed.
"Please, don't," the Prime said quickly.
Prowl hesitated, then stood up straight again, feeling marginally more comfortable. "Still in there, are you?"
"To some extent, yes," Optimus said. "But either way, there is no need to bow. As usual, we owe the victory this orn to you."
"Actually," Prowl said. "We owe the victory to this mechling. Prime, this is Blaster."
Optimus looked confused for an astrosecond, but then a light dawned in his optics and he nodded. "It's good to meet you," he knelt.
Blaster frowned at him. "I… can't hear you."
Optimus nodded. "I believe that is because I am a Prime."
"And you've already met me," Blaster said. "Don't you remember?"
Optimus looked down. "I do not," he said. "Were you one of the sparklings in the city?"
"Yes," Blaster said. "Until they made me a telepath. But then you saved me—you and Soundwave."
"I have lost some of my memories," Optimus said solemnly. "I'm afraid I can no longer recall the events you allude to. And… I understand if you are unable to trust me. Once he could no longer read me, Soundwave was unable to do so."
Blaster seemed to study the Prime's faceplate and Prowl was worried for a moment. If the mechling chose the same path as his mentor...
"I want to join the Autobots," Blaster said.
"Thank you," Optimus replied. "We would be glad to have your help some orn, when you are old enough."
"No," Blaster said. "I want to join now… sir."
There was a flicker of emotion in Optimus's optics.
"He saved my life this orn," Prowl said. "Soundwave came to kill me, but Blaster showed up and chased him off."
"You have guardians," Optimus said. "They must be worried about you."
"They didn't want me to come," Blaster said. "They don't like you—Cam doesn't, at least.
Optimus nodded. "Nevertheless, they do have a right and responsibility to protect you. We will keep you safe until you can return to them, and I will attempt to convince them to let you stay with us. You will become a target—even more than you were before—because of your involvement in this battle."
Blaster nodded.
"However, you cannot join our army until you are of age."
Blaster looked down, pouting slightly.
"He's right, you know," one of Blaster's mech-shaped symbiots said softly.
"Furthermore," Optimus said. "I cannot condone you running away from your guardians."
"I'm sorry," the youngling said.
Optimus's gaze softened. "With your permission, I'll have them contacted and let them know where you are so they can come for you."
Blaster nodded.
"And I am very grateful to you for saving Prowl's life. We are all in your debt."
Blaster looked up again. "You are different," he said. "But I couldn't always read mecha, and I trusted you before that. I think you're still good. Soundwave… I can't believe he was going to... As much as I owe him for helping me, he's getting people hurt… it's not what… it's not right."
"Again, thank you," Optimus said. "Prowl, will you find somewhere for him to stay for now? There is someone else I must speak to."
I transformed and landed, then walked into the base. Megatron was waiting for me in the command center. I'd sent my symbiots through a groundbridge but wanted the flying time to decide what I was going to say. I had failed him—I had run like a coward.
And I had been relieved. There had been a moment when I could have done it. I could have pulled my range in and shot him and killed him. And I still didn't know if I would have gone through with it.
I couldn't lie to Megatron and blame it all on Blaster, because next time he might send me after Blaster. I had to explain things and then just deal with the consequences.
Megatron looked up when I came in. He wasn't injured, thankfully, but he was also not in a good mood.
"Soundwave," he said. "I hope you were successful."
"No," I said.
He narrowed his optics. "What happened?"
"Blaster was there," I said. "Laserbeak got hurt."
"The other telepath was there?" Megatron said. "The youngling?"
"Yes."
"And he overpowered you and you ran like a coward, didn't you? I thought I could trust you!"
"Yes," I repeated. I had told him before that Blaster was stronger than me.
We'll have to do something about him. And I didn't really like the tone in your voice…
"I am not an assassin," I said.
He stared at me.
"I will do many things for you, but I will not kill for you."
"Why? Because you're afraid?"
"Because I'm not a killer."
Megatron snorted. "Yes you are. You just don't have the bearings to do it in person."
I met his gaze evenly and was a little surprised to find I actually was afraid of him. "I don't know if I can take that step without losing myself. I have to have rules. I'm too powerful. I will help you. I will keep your base safe from spies and gather i-information and weed out traitors. I will help you tear down the Council system. I'll help you de-efeat the Autobots. But I will not ki-ill for you, and I-if y-you can't li-i-ive with that, y-you'll have to ge-et rid o-of me."
Aside from the stutter, I sounded perfectly calm and emotionless. He stared at me. And he finally speaks his processor. Now I have to decide what to do about it.
I expected him to be angry. No one talked to him like that—not anyone.
But he wasn't angry. In fact, he was almost hurt. "I told you, Soundwave," he said. "If I ever asked you to do anything you weren't comfortable doing, you could talk to me about it."
I took in a deep vent and let it out.
I can't lose him. Especially since Orion has the Matrix. Soundwave is too important—without him the war is as good as lost. "Soundwave, you are my most trusted advisor. If I only valued you as a resource, I might be tempted to get rid of you, or have Shockwave mess with your programming. What you've just said to me would have ended in death for anyone else, and I warn you I will not permit disrespect. But you aren't just a resource—surely you know that. Blind loyalty is only slightly better than no loyalty, but despite your lack of optics, you are anything but blind. You see everything—you hear everything. You know me better than I know myself. You know exactly what I am and still you are loyal—still you trust me and follow me. That is not something I can replace or afford to lose. If you feel so strongly about it, then I will not send you to kill anyone again."
I knelt. "Thank you."
"Thank you," Megatron said. "You are dismissed. See to Laserbeak's injuries and then return here. We still have to deal with Blackangle and I want you present for that."
I nodded and left, feeling shaky and surprised.
But I shouldn't have forgotten who he still was, under all of the darkness and wrongness. And while he'd always been reckless, he wasn't stupid, not really. He still knew he needed my help.
And he would always be able to count on it, no matter what.
Orion drove through the streets of Iacon, seeing the city around him in a new light. The wisdom of the Primes was like a sixth sense. There was something new and familiar around every corner—something he'd heard before in every word spoken by the mecha around him—something recognizable in every situation. He felt as if he had lived a hundred lifetimes that he couldn't quite remember.
Speaking to Megatron and demanding his surrender had felt familiar. Watching Elita run off after their conversation had felt familiar. Being introduced to Blaster felt familiar. He wasn't sure what that meant, though, only that it was somewhat easier to figure out what to say, what to do, how to act.
Of course, he'd already made mistakes, which was concerning. He was certain he'd said the wrong things to Elita. He needed to find her and talk to her again, but he wanted to give her some time to think first. He could tell she was very uncomfortable with the changes he had undergone.
He had the memories of the Primes as well—a vast library of thoughts and experiences and histories that the mild, studious part of him was itching to explore.
But he didn't have time for that yet.
There were many things to do. They had to find somewhere to stay until the construction on their new base was completed. They had to help rebuild many roads that led to the central sector of Iacon. Optimus had to speak with his soldiers, and redouble his efforts to recruit mecha from around the globe.
He had allowed Megatron to live—to retreat freely.
He could have ended the war, but he had chosen not to. Had that been the right choice? Killing Megatron had felt wrong—especially because Primus had suggested the warlord could be redeemed. And if he hadn't let Megatron go, more mecha would have offlined.
There had been enough killing this orn.
Optimus transformed and walked through the front door of his destination, not unaware of the hush that filled the room, but surprised that there were so many mecha here.
Just a joor after the Decepticon retreat, Maccadam's was bustling.
He approached the counter. The bartender stared at him with wide optics.
"Is Maccadam here?" he asked.
"Um… yes. Hold on a breem." He put a finger to the side of his helm to signify he was sending a comm.
Optimus waited.
"Um… he says you can meet him in the back, down the stairs from his office. Do you know where…"
"Yes, thank you," Optimus said and walked past the mech and through the door to the back.
Maccadam was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
"Optimus Prime," he said, nodding deferentially. "Thank you for coming."
Optimus frowned. "You didn't ask me to come."
"I'm grateful anyway," Maccadam said, turning and gesturing for Optimus to follow him.
They went down the hall and entered a large room, where several mecha were sitting. Optimus recognized them, even the ones he hadn't seen before. The Primes—Logos, Micronus, Quintus, Amalgamous, Liege Maximo… And Alchemist—Maccadam.
Only half of them.
"What happened to Primus?" Liege Maximo demanded, glaring accusingly at Optimus.
"He… is offline," Optimus said. Primus had insisted that he tell everyone except for Alpha Trion that Primus was dead.
But where was Alpha Trion?
Logos sighed, lowering his helm. "Then we're doomed."
"He said he had provided a way for us to survive," Optimus said.
"Did he say what exactly?" Micronus asked.
"No," Optimus said. "I can only assume we will know when the time comes."
"Did he tell you what was wrong with him?" Quintus asked. "He… we went to the Core and we could see he was ill, but we couldn't figure out what was wrong."
"He told me that the reason for and nature of his illness was not my burden to bear," Optimus said.
The Primes around the table looked at each other.
"Does that mean something to you?" Optimus asked.
"Perhaps we're supposed to investigate it," Quintus said.
"Once we've hunted down that Unicron-spawn, Megatronus," Liege Maximo growled. "We can't forget about him."
"This might be more important," Logos said.
Optimus looked at Maccadam, whose helm was bowed.
"Don't start bickering," Micronus snapped. "Or I'm leaving."
Amalgamous snorted. "Us? Bicker?"
Liege glared at Micronus. "You've got some nerve telling us not to bicker. Besides, you can't leave. Primus is dead and we have to figure out what to do about it."
"We should wait for Alpha Trion," Logos said. "He knows the Covenant better than any of us, and he might have some insight into what happens next."
"Where is Alpha Trion?" Optimus asked. "And… where is Solus Prime?"
The others all looked down.
Maccadam spoke. "Solus… is dead,"
Optimus shuttered his optics. He'd barely met her, but the Matrix made him feel as if he'd known her for a very long time.
"Alpha Trion… well, come see."
Optimus followed Maccadam out of the room. They walked down the hall and around the corner, and then Maccadam stopped and buried his faceplate in his hands.
Optimus waited for a few moments and then, not entirely sure what to do, he reached out and put a hand on the older mech's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Maccadam choked. "I didn't… think we'd actually lose Primus too. After everything… after Onyx and Prima and Solus… this means… this means none of them are ever coming back."
"Alchemist?" Optimus said.
Maccadam took in a deep vent and put his hands down, but didn't look at Optimus.
"Alchemist?"
"Yes?"
"There is hope, for everything."
Silence stretched out for several long astroseconds.
"Thank you," Maccadam said. "Now, come with me."
He led Optimus to his medical office, where Alpha Trion was lying on a berth, hooked up to a spark support machine. He was covered in temp plating, and lay still and silent.
"When Megatron attacked Iacon, our brother, Megatronus, was fighting with his soldiers. They attacked the Hall of Records, and he killed Solus. He left Alpha Trion alive for some reason. He was badly damaged, and he nearly offlined, but Quintus and I managed to save him."
Optimus looked down at his former mentor. His personal memories of this mech were few, but he knew they had been close.
He was glad Alpha Trion was still online.
"When he wakes, I'll let you know," Maccadam said.
"Thank you."
"It probably won't be for a few orns."
Optimus nodded. "Once he is conscious, I will come and visit him."
"Good," Maccadam said.
"There is something else."
"Yes?"
Optimus hesitated, then reached into subspace and pulled out the mangled Key to Vectory Sigma. "I fought Megatron this orn, and… he destroyed this."
"Huh," Maccadam accepted the broken key and studied it for a moment. "It's not that bad. I can repair it."
"You can?"
Maccadam smiled sadly. "Normally I couldn't, but we have Solus's Forge."
The image of a large hammer appeared in his processor, along with the hint of a memory. Solus's voice, instructing him on how to use the Forge. The weight of the tool in his hands. She must have loaned it to a previous Prime.
"So yes, I'll keep it until I have time to repair it. For now, I'm sure you have things to do…" Maccadam shuttered his optics and shook his helm. "How are you holding up, by the way?"
Optimus hesitated, then spoke honestly. "I… don't know. I feel all right, but… confused, and afraid. It's overwhelming…"
"You'll get used to it," Maccadam said.
Optimus thought about Elita's reaction to seeing him. "I am worried my friends won't trust me now that I have changed."
Maccadam finally met Optimus's optics. "My friend," he said solemnly. "Don't start believing that lie. You will always be Orion Pax. And you have always been Optimus Prime. They'll see that eventually, just be patient with them while they get used to the changes."
"Thank you," Optimus said.
"Now," Maccadam smiled tiredly. "I've got to go talk my siblings into staying here until we figure out what we're going to do. Let me know if you need anything."
"And you," Optimus said. "If there's anything I can do to help…"
"You can get out there and be the Prime Cybertron needs," Maccadam said. "I'm sure that'll keep you plenty busy."
Optimus looked down at Alpha Trion, feeling guilty.
"What?"
"What if… what if I can't save Cybertron? What if my actions destroy everything?"
Maccadam was silent for a few astroseconds. "In my experience… it's better to try and to fail than to abandon hope from the beginning."
Optimus wasn't sure.
"Primus chose you," Maccadam said. "Don't doubt yourself."
"I will try," Optimus said.
"Good," Maccadam took in a deep vent. "I'll see you soon."
Optimus nodded and left the room, then climbed the stairs and returned to the familiar streets of Iacon, where he and his predecessors had spent many collective lifetimes.
He could still remember the demolished neighborhoods from Primus's Trial, and he knew that some orn, despite his best efforts—perhaps because of them—his beautiful home might be destroyed.
But he would fight for it anyway, to the bitter end.