Jazz woke suddenly, but didn't move. He kept his optics shuttered, listening, trying to retrieve his most recent memories.
He didn't hurt much, which he had to admit was nice, and the last thing he remembered… was Prowl and Orion and Ironhide finding him in the hall in the Decepticon base in Kaon.
Good news all around. He wasn't dead, and chances were he wasn't with the Decepticons anymore.
So, he un-shuttered his optics and sat up, to find he didn't recognize the room he was in.
Medical berth, spark monitor, medical tools, cheap floor tiles, plain gray walls. It didn't feel like a hospital, but it also wasn't Ratchet's office.
Hmm…
Jazz managed to disconnect himself from the spark monitor and got up off the berth. He supposed he could be a prisoner still. But this place didn't look like any kind of prison cell. The style of the room seemed vaguely familiar, now that he thought about it… had he been here before?
He'd have to go exploring. The door was locked, but not very well. Jazz was about finished hacking it when he heard loud, angry pedesteps outside. He backed away, suddenly nervous, and grabbed for the nearest weapon-like thing.
The door slammed open. "What are you doing!" Ratchet demanded.
Jazz froze, then forced himself to relax. "Hey, Ratch."
Ratchet glared at him. "Put that down."
"Oh, yeah," Jazz set the razor-sharp scalpel off to the side. "Yeah, sorry, mech, I was just… um…"
Ratchet huffed and scanned him. "Did you do a full systems diagnostic? Is everything working?"
"Yeah, I did that," Jazz lied. Everything did seem to be working fine, and if it wasn't he'd find out soon enough without having to bother with diagnostics. "How long have I been out?"
"Not long enough," Ratchet said. "Here." He pulled a cube of energon out of subspace. "This is medical grade, so it'll be easy on your systems. I repaired or replaced everything that was damaged, but you shouldn't have normal energon for a few orns, and I guarantee if you drink high grade you'll bring it back up, so don't even think about it."
Jazz tipped his helm back and swallowed a mouthful of energon. It felt good going down—kind of soothing. "Frag, that's good. Ratchet, you're a life saver, anymech ever tell ya that?"
Ratchet rolled his optics.
Jazz drained the rest of the cube and set it to the side. "Thanks, mech, I'll see ya around." He made for the door.
"Not yet," Ratchet said, but Jazz slipped out and ducked around the nearest corner.
He did recognize this place, he realized. They'd stayed in this building for a couple of orns back before the war, after they'd been kicked out of Perceptor's house, but before 'Raj had shown up to invite them to his tower.
So why were they back here?
Jazz stopped, and waited around the corner to hear if Ratchet was coming after him. The mech did emerge from his office but, fortunately, he went stomping off the other direction.
Jazz vented a quiet sigh of relief. Then he started down the hall again. He needed to find someone who could tell him what was going on and why they were here. Someone who wouldn't insist he go back to Ratchet's office. He felt fine, and he definitely didn't need a check-up.
He commed Mirage.
The noblemech responded quickly. "Jazz, you're back online."
"Yep, Ratchet's after me, though. Ya know anywhere safe ta hide?"
Mirage was silent for a few astroseconds, and then sent him a map with a room marked.
Jazz thanked him and made his way through the building, trying to avoid being noticed. He did run into a couple of mecha, but managed to stay away from Ratchet, and that was what he really cared about. He needed a break from medical equipment and angry mecha for a while.
He found the door of the room 'Raj had marked on the map and slipped in.
"Aw, pit," he said.
Mainspring looked up from his desk. "Jazz!"
One of the mecha who'd probably send him straight back to Ratchet. Thanks, 'Raj.
"You're online. How are you?"
"I feel great, mech," Jazz sat and shut the door behind himself before going to sit down across from his co-department head. "How about you?"
"Good," Mainspring said. "I…" he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
"What?"
"I'm so sorry. You made such a big deal about being careful about Makeshift… I did try, and I was a little suspicious, but I should have done something. Especially because he wasn't making a big deal about proving who he was. He answered the questions I asked, and he had your comm, but…"
Jazz raised a hand to tap the side of his helm. "Did ya get it back, or is this new?"
"It's new," Mainspring said. "We got your codes transferred to it, though, while you were unconscious. I'm so sorry. I should have known…"
"It's okay, mech, really," Jazz tried to smile encouragingly. It was still strange to think that the mecha here actually cared whether he was all right.
"I should have been more careful. We wouldn't have lost Iacon—we would have tried to rescue you..."
"We lost Iacon?" Jazz said. "Frag, but… this is Iacon… ain't it?"
"Yes. We got it back," Mainspring said.
"Huh," Jazz shook his helm. "How long was I out?"
"Only about four orns." Mainspring said. "But a lot has happened. Are… you sure you're all right?"
"Eh," Jazz said, "Feels kinda surreal, ya know? I was starting ta worry I wouldn't make it back, and then suddenly here I am. I'm fine, though. I don't want ya ta worry about me. I… cope pretty well with stuff like this."
Mainspring nodded, though he didn't look quite convinced.
"Ya gonna tell me what happened?"
"Actually, we're having a meeting in a few breems, so I can explain generally what happened, but I don't have time to give you the full story… you can come to the meeting if you want to, though."
Jazz hesitated, then nodded.
Optimus watched his friends trickle in to the large conference room as the time for the meeting drew closer.
He was nervous about this—more nervous than he'd ever been at the prospect of conducting a meeting.
Wasn't the Matrix supposed to make him stronger?
Wasn't it supposed to help him lead?
So far, it seemed to be doing the opposite. His friends—these mecha who had trusted him and stood by him for as long as he could remember—had treated him like a stranger for the past several orns. He couldn't blame them for their hesitance to trust him, of course. He couldn't deny that he was different than he'd been before. And, while Maccadam had told him they would get used to him, he hadn't had much time to spend with them since the Core had gone dark.
It didn't help that some of them were avoiding him. Elita sat three chairs away from him, arranging and rearranging her datapads and refusing to look up from the table. Ironhide, who was still recovering from his injuries, had decided to sit all the way across the unnecessarily large conference room until Chromia had gone to drag him back toward the rest of the group.
The others were acting differently as well. Red Alert was always on edge, but he seemed especially jumpy, and kept halfway glancing toward Optimus before looking away again, Ultra Magnus had been even more deferential and respectful than usual, and the one time Optimus had tried to talk to Ratchet since receiving the Matrix, the medic had seemed almost shy.
At least Prowl was acting normal. Then again, Optimus wasn't sure whether he'd be able to tell if Prowl was uncomfortable around him, because the Praxian was stiff and formal in almost all situations.
He had to fix this—things couldn't continue this way.
He needed to say something to bring them back. They had to trust him if they were going to work together.
Mainspring came in, followed by…
"Jazz!" Ratchet said. "There you are."
Everyone turned suddenly to look at the black and white mech as he approached the table. He looked remarkably well-recovered, except for a few still-healing burns on his faceplate.
"You're back!" Ironhide said. "Frag, mech, are you all right?"
"Yeah," Jazz took an empty seat next to Ironhide, which was also conveniently far away from Ratchet and close to the door. "I feel great. Kinda glad I slept through all the scrap that went down here."
"Welcome back," Optimus said. "It is good to see you recovering."
"Thanks…" Jazz trailed off, staring at him.
"Oh," Mainspring said quickly. "I forgot to tell you Optimus got the Matrix."
"Huh." Jazz crossed his arms and met Optimus's gaze with a wary expression. "Did ya get the key, then?"
"No," Optimus said. "Though I did take it from Megatron later. I will explain what happened during the meeting."
"Okay," Jazz said, and sat back in his chair, still watching Optimus thoughtfully.
"Now that we are all here, we can begin," Optimus said, and looked around the silent room.
No one would meet his optics.
He took in a deep vent and continued. "First, we are experiencing logistical difficulties because the apartment buildings where our soldiers were staying are largely destroyed. Red Alert, what is the status of our new base?"
"We can't move in yet," Red Alert said. "And we can only rush construction so much before we get sloppy."
Optimus nodded. "Do we know how long it will be before the base is complete?"
Red Alert tapped his fingers on the table. "A few quartex," he said. "Two or three at least."
"Is that long enough to justify looking for another temporary base?" Chromia asked. "I mean, this building's not that bad, and it's much larger than Mirage's tower. We can use a few of the other floors for the soldiers..."
"It's a nightmare to deploy out of," Prowl said.
"And the security is terrible," Red Alert put in. "It would almost be better to make a camp by our groundbridge station and stay there."
Optimus nodded. "We will remain here for the present, but we should look into securing a better place while we wait for our permanent base of operations. Elita, Chromia, will you work together on that?"
Both of them nodded, though Elita still wouldn't look at him, and Chromia's expression bordered on hostile.
"Thank you," Optimus said. "Prowl, will you report on casualties and the current status of our army?"
Prowl nodded. "Our numbers were significantly decreased by Megatron's attack on Iacon, and then we lost many more when we reclaimed the city-state. However, since taking back the city-state, I believe recruitment has gone up. We're still not anywhere close to Megatron's numbers, so we still need to step up our recruitment tactics, but we've already replaced all of the soldiers we lost in the last two battles."
Optimus nodded. "I will redouble my efforts to find new recruits."
"Thank you."
Optimus glanced around the room. "Are there any other pressing matters we must address before I share what I learned from my audience with Primus?"
He waited.
Ironhide looked as if he was about to say something, but then he shook his helm and looked away.
"Very well," Optimus took a deep vent. He couldn't tell them everything, especially since some of the mecha here didn't know about the trials. But there were some things they deserved to know.
He told them what Primus had said about the energon reserves on Cybertron, and the eventual need to leave the planet. He told them that Primus had promised an eventual solution to the fuel crisis, but that he did not know what it was.
He told them how Primus had given him the Matrix—how it had been his only opportunity to receive it.
Then he let the room fall to silence.
"So the Core's gone dark?" Jazz said at length. "Permanently?"
Optimus nodded.
"How are mecha taking that?" Jazz said. "I mean…"
"Not great," Chromia said. "There's been widespread panic, though we've got things mostly under control in Iacon. And Megatron's actually been using the problem to his advantage. The southern half of the planet's where most of the energon mines are, and he controls Kaon, Tarn, and Tesarus."
Elita spoke quietly. "Mecha are joining him out of fear now. They think he'll supply them with energon when everyone else has run out."
Jazz scowled at the table.
"However," Optimus said. "I believe there are many mecha who would join us if we invited them to—if they understood."
"Have ya announced ta the world that ya have the Matrix?" Jazz said. "That gives us more credibility."
"We have not hidden the fact," Optimus said. "But I have… needed time to decide what I should say when I do speak to the public."
"Right," Jazz said. "I guess it's only been a few orns. Frag, a lot happened while I was out."
"Indeed," Optimus said. "If it is not too painful to talk about… were you able to learn anything about Megatron's plans while you were a prisoner in Kaon?"
"Frag, yeah," Jazz said. "I learned more from Starscream than he learned from me, that's for certain."
"Starscream?" Optimus said. "That designation is familiar. Is that the seeker…"
"Yeah," Jazz said. "He's Megatron's… I don't know, he said he was second in command, but I don't think that can be possible, cuz he's kind of an idiot. I wish I could have reported the info about the trap and the attack on Iacon before it happened, but I did learn some other things from him that might be useful."
Jazz launched into an explanation of current Decepticon politics and plans. When he was finished, Optimus asked for brief reports from the rest of the mecha in the room, and then the meeting was over. As everyone was getting up, Optimus remembered that he'd wanted to ask them all if he could speak with them privately this orn. But both Jazz and Ironhide were out the door already, and everyone else was filing out after them.
He could just comm. them and ask them later.
He did catch up to Elita, though, as she was leaving the room.
"Elita?"
She stopped in the doorway, and finally turned to look at him.
"I would like to speak with you privately some time this orn." Optimus said softly. "If that's all right?"
She took in a deep vent. "Yes," she said, sounding resigned. "We… do need to talk, don't we?"
He nodded.
"I'll be free in about four joors."
"Very well. I'll be in my office."
She nodded curtly and left. Optimus watched her go, sorrowful. He knew she was hurting and lonely, just as much as he was. And the worst part was that he couldn't do anything about it.
But maybe it was better this way.
He'd rather lose her now than put her in danger in the future.
Megatron watched his generals file out of the room. Straxus would head back to Tarn, while Overlord took up his position in Tesarus again. The seeker generals lived here.
The meeting had gone as well as could be expected. No one was happy with the way the Iacon campaign had gone. They hadn't openly spoken against Megatron but he could tell.
He glanced at Soundwave, wondering if he was right.
The mech nodded.
The last few mecha filed out of the room, leaving one behind.
"You… wanted me to stay, my liege?"
"Yes, Starscream," Megatron glared at the seeker. "I have a few more items of business to deal with this orn, and I'd like you to accompany me."
Starscream bowed nervously, "Of course, your lordship."
The seeker hadn't followed Megatron's orders exactly, and while Megatron hadn't decided how to punish him yet, he did want to show the seeker a few examples of what happened to those who disobeyed him.
He led the way out of the meeting room with Soundwave and Starscream trailing behind him. They crossed the base and went down to the underground prison.
Megatron gestured for some guards standing by the doors to follow him as he entered the high security cell block. He stopped in front of the last cell on the row.
"Blackangle," he said.
The stasis-cuffed prisoner looked up casually. He was obviously trying to appear unconcerned, but Megatron could see the fear in his optics. "Good orn, Megatron." he said, and Megatron was impressed at how steady his voice was, but still not willing to play that game.
"I don't have the patience for pleasantries this orn," he said.
"Alright, look," Blackangle said. "You can't kill me. You'll lose Quantum. They're loyal to me, not you."
"Oh really?"
"And I know when I'm beat." He glanced at Soundwave. "I'll be loyal in the future if you set me free. I'm worth much more alive than dead."
"I think you're overestimating your lackeys," Megatron said, "Anyone who was exclusively loyal to you is now dead. The rest of Quantum seems content to follow your second in command, who was perfectly happy to step in and take over."
Blackangle's optics widened.
"Though it is true, there may be some usefulness in you yet." Megatron gestured for the guards to take him from the cell. Blackangle stood as they opened the doors, and they dragged him out.
"What are you going to do with me?" he asked.
"Soundwave gave me a good idea with the senator he captured," Megatron said. "Shockwave needs test subjects."
"No!" Blackangle said. "I swear, Megatron, I'll serve you loyally. Please—"
"No," Megatron said. "I don't want false loyalty, Blackangle, especially not from a powerful mech like yourself. I want real loyalty, lasting loyalty, eternal, all-consuming loyalty."
The mech shook his helm.
"Fortunately, I think our head scientist knows how to instill that sort of loyalty in mecha. Something he learned in the Institute."
"No!" Blackangle tried to pull free, but the guards held him back. "I'll do anything! You can't do this! You can't…"
"Knock him out and take him to Shockwave's lab," Megatron said. "I've already sent instructions to Shockwave."
He watched as the guards stunned the traitor and carried his limp frame away.
"Now," Megatron rounded on Starscream. "Your turn. Come with me."
"Lord Megatron," Starscream pleaded. "I don't understand. I swear I have been nothing if not—"
"Come!"
Starscream glanced nervously back at Soundwave, who was bringing up the rear, and then bowed his helm meekly and followed Megatron.
Megatron left the high security cell block and made his way down another row of cells.
"No!" Starscream said. "Who told you! Who ratted me out?"
Megatron stopped in front of an occupied cell and turned to face the seeker. "Starscream, I told you to kill him!" He gestured into the cell where a dark blue seeker sat, staring at the wall with his arms wrapped around his knees.
Starscream stopped, glancing up at the ceiling. "I… did bring him back, though. Perhaps he can be useful to you as well."
"No," Megatron replied. "By bringing him back here, you've only lost your opportunity to make his death quick and painless."
"Please, my liege…"
Megatron turned to look at Thundercracker again, but he was still stubbornly staring at the wall.
"He can still be useful," Starscream said. "He can still be useful, I promise."
"I don't want to hear another word from you, Starscream," Megatron said. "Thundercracker?"
The prisoner didn't look at him.
"You allowed my most valuable prisoner to escape—assisted him, even. Do you deny it?"
Thundercracker didn't move.
"Answer him," Starscream said. "Tell him it wasn't you, that the Autobot tricked you…"
"No," Thundercracker said at length. "Just kill me."
"It won't be that easy," Megatron said. "I'm tempted to let you starve, maybe find you a smaller cell to wait in.
Thundercracker flinched, but still didn't look up.
"I can ensure his future loyalty," Starscream said. "Shockwave can…"
"He's not worth it," Megatron said. "I don't want Shockwave wasting time on useless, traitorous deserters."
Thundercracker finally looked up and met Megatron's optics proudly.
"Here's your sentence," Megatron said.
"Without a trial?"
"We skipped that part. I don't have the patience for it."
"There's a surprise."
Megatron growled. "Don't talk back to me, insect."
Thundercracker looked away again.
"I'll tear your wings off," he said. "I'll tear your wings off and then nail you into the smallest box you'll fit in and leave you there until you leak to death."
Thundercracker tensed, and took in a deep, shaking vent.
"You wouldn't need shadowplay," Starscream said. "You…"
"Shut up!" Megatron said, rounding on the gray and red seeker. "Or I'll do it to you too!"
Starscream stared at him, and Megatron saw an enemy in the mech's optics. A cunning, crafty enemy. Thundercracker was no use to him, but Starscream was another story. He had already proven his worth by tricking the seekers into joining the Decepticons.
Megatron couldn't afford to make an enemy of such a valuable ally.
"Very well," he said. "Speak. But you had better not say you can just talk him around."
"Well, I can't right now," Starscream said. "But under the right circumstances…" he trailed off and glared at Thundercracker. "We could erase some of his memories—just far back enough he wouldn't know about Vos, and then re-explain everything to him."
Thundercracker looked up again. "No…"
"He wasn't supposed to know about Vos in the first place. That's why he deserted."
"Thundercracker's death is meant to be a warning for you," Megatron said. "To ensure you never fail me again."
"Please, my liege."
Megatron grabbed the gray and red seeker by the throat and slammed him against the bars of the cell his trine brother was in. "I need your undying loyalty, and I need you to follow my orders exactly."
"I will! I promise."
Megatron let him go. "Very well. I'll let it go this time. If you want, you can wipe his memories and try to win his loyalty back."
Starscream slid down the cell bars, trembling slightly.
"But I warn you," Megatron said. "If you fail me again, you and both of your brothers will die."
"I won't," Starscream said desperately. "I won't fail you. Thank you, Lord Megatron!"
Megatron turned to walk away, and Soundwave followed him.
"Starscream, wait!"
"Let go!"
Megatron glanced behind himself to see that Thundercracker had grabbed Starscream's arm through the bars.
"Screamer, don't do this," Thundercracker said. "Please."
"I'm saving your life," Starscream yanked his arm away. "You should be grateful, you glitched idiot."
"No, you can't—"
"Shut up!" Starscream said and followed Megatron, who turned and continued walking down the hall.
"Thank you for coming."
Elita carefully sat down across the table from Optimus. She wasn't sure exactly how this conversation was going to go, and that scared her, but she couldn't keep avoiding him.
It was time to face the facts and make a decision.
"Prime, Sir," she said, because she knew it bothered him, because a tiny part of her still wanted to lash out, even if it hurt her as much as it hurt him.
He met her gaze calmly, but she could feel his sorrow.
"Optimus," she revised. "Or whatever. I don't know what to call you." She couldn't bring herself to call him Orion, because he wasn't.
"You may call me whatever you wish to."
"What did you want to talk about?"
"I…" He hesitated, frowning, and his expression pulled at her, drew her in, made her believe for an astrosecond… And then it was gone, behind another calm mask. "I am very sorry for all that you have been through on my behalf—for all the sorrow and pain I have caused you. It is not fair to you. I know our bond is too strong to break through conventional means, but if you would like, we can try to find a way. It is not fair to you to be tied to me in this way—it puts you in unnecessary danger, and I know you do not feel about me the same way you did before I received the Matrix."
Elita stared at him.
Silence stretched too long. She didn't know what to think—didn't know what to say.
"If you need some time to think about it…"
She shook her helm. "Is that what you want?" she said.
Optimus looked away. "I know that I am different now. I know you can feel it, and that it bothers you. I—the mech I once was would not want you to suffer."
Elita narrowed her optics. Something about that… didn't feel right. And he hadn't answered her question. "But is that what you want?"
"This decision is not my right to make, Elita. Please do not let my emotions—"
"Stop," Elita said. "Something you said wasn't completely honest. Are you lying to me about something?"
He looked at her, still wearing a calm expression, but she could feel past it.
She narrowed her optics. "Prime, sir," she added.
There it was again.
"You cringe every time I call you that, on the inside at least. Look at me."
He met her gaze.
"You're different," she said. "You feel so different, but I think…" It hurt him. It hurt him every time she spoke his title, every time she reminded him he wasn't Orion anymore, every time he tried to push her away. He had changed, but maybe it was the bond itself that was making him feel like a stranger, because for the most part his emotions weren't that different. "You still care about me, don't you?"
"Of course," he said.
"So… why are you trying to convince me to leave you? I thought we were past that."
His shoulders slumped a little, and he looked down again. "You are right. And I am sorry,"
"So... what are you doing? Why are you trying to talk me into..."
"I… am afraid for your safety," Optimus said quietly. "Before giving me the Matrix, Primus… gave me a trial, that held clues to the future. In it, you... offlined."
Elita studied his faceplate.
"Maybe you would be safer if you—"
"No."
He still loved her. He still loved her just as much as he always had. She couldn't see it in his expression anymore, but she could still feel it.
"I'm still angry at you for taking the Matrix," she said. "And I'm upset that you lost so many of your memories and I'm still not sure how I feel about… how different you are. But if you think I'm giving up that easily, you're very wrong. And if you think I'm going to stay out of danger, whether or not we're bonded…"
He smiled slightly.
There. Some emotion.
"But none of that matters in the long run," Elita said. "The real question is… Do you still need me?"
He felt surprised, but didn't answer.
"You're stronger now," Elita said. "So maybe you don't."
"I…" he trailed off, unsure of himself.
"But even if you don't," she leaned forward across the table and rested her hand on top of his. "I still need you. I'll always need you."
He broke. The emotions he was feeling finally reached his faceplate and he was no longer a stranger.
"Orion."
He pulled away.
Elita wasn't going to put up with that. She got up and walked around the table. He was so tall now—even sitting, his helm was at the same level as hers.
He turned to look at her, and she reached out and cupped his faceplate in her hands. "I'm not leaving you, and don't you dare suggest breaking our bond again. I don't care what happens—if I offline next orn, it'll still be worth it to me."
Everything went still for a moment, and then with a feeling that she thought might be hope, he gently took her hands and stood. She stepped toward him and he let go and wrapped his arms around her.
"I am different," he said quietly after a while.
"But you still love me."
"Of course, I do. But I didn't think you still..."
"I just wasn't sure if it was really you or not," Elita said.
"I'm not sure either. I don't know… if I can be Orion anymore."
"You have his spark," Elita said. "Things won't be… It will never be the same. And I will miss the way you were, but even if that makes me angry, I understand that this is what you have to be now."
"But I promised you," he said.
The fact that he remembered that was comforting. He'd lost a lot of the time they'd spent together, but they still had some shared memories. "You promised me you would try," Elita corrected him. "I asked you if you'd still be Orion forever, and you said you'd try."
"I am so sorry."
She could tell him it was all right—that she understood—that she didn't care. But he would know that wasn't entirely truthful. She smiled, listening to his spark pulse. "I forgive you."
He let out a soft ex-vent and for the first time she could feel how tired he was.
"You should rest," she said.
"Elita?" He almost seemed like he was going to pull away from her, but then he didn't.
"Yes?"
"Are you certain?"
Certain of what? That he should rest? That she loved him? That he was still Orion enough for her? That she wasn't going to break the bond? That they still needed each other? That this was all right and they would work it out? That she'd never, never leave him?
"Yes, Optimus," she said. "I'm certain."
Thundercracker started online.
He was… he was in the medbay. He thought back, wondering how he'd gotten here. His helm ached, and he could tell he'd had some other repairs as well.
But he couldn't remember what had caused his injuries. And—come to think of it, this wasn't the medbay of the Decepticon base, was it?
"Thundercracker."
Thundercracker started, and turned to look to the side, where Skywarp and Starscream were standing, watching him.
"Are you all right?" Starscream said.
Thundercracker sat up and the motion made his helm throb. 'Warp looked a little concerned, which was uncharacteristic, and Starscream looked as if he was pretending to be concerned, which was also strange—normally he didn't even pretend.
"I said, are you all right?" Starscream repeated with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"Uh…" Thundercracker put a hand to his helm. "I think so. Where are we? What happened?"
"You were injured in battle," Starscream said. "Your processor was damaged. They were worried you might not recover and that you would have memory loss. What's the most recent thing you remember?"
Thundercracker frowned. "We… it seemed like a normal orn. We had joined the Decepticons—we'd just gotten back from Tesarus, but I don't remember getting hurt..."
Skywarp looked surprised, then angry. "Screamer, that's more than you said—"
"Shut up!" Starscream snapped at him, then looked back at Thundercracker. "You lost more than we expected," he said. "It's been almost three quartexes since then."
Thundercracker stared at him.
Quartexes, he'd lost quartexes.
"We'll have to catch you up on…"
"Wait," Thundercracker said.
"What?"
Something was wrong with this whole situation. He wasn't sure he could trust anything Starscream said. Not that Skywarp was much better, but at least he'd probably be more truthful. "'Warp can tell me what happened."
The two of them looked at each other, and then Skywarp looked down. "You don't remember," he said, sounding even more uncharacteristically subdued. "They… destroyed Vos."
"What?" Thundercracker said.
"The Autobots," Skywarp clenched his fists. "They sank it. It's gone. All the other seekers have joined the Decepticons too. We took Iacon, but the Autobots stormed in and took it back. Thousands of us are dead. Tens of thousands. Vos…"
"No," Thundercracker stood. "It can't be…"
"It's gone," Skywarp said. "It's okay, you'll get over it."
"Why would they… do that?" Thundercracker said.
"Because they're stupid," Starscream said. "They thought the seekers were considering an alliance with Megatron, so they threatened to bring down the city. No one thought they'd actually do it. Once they had, they realized their mistake, and tried to blame us for it. They've even got some mecha convinced—fools—but it was one of them who threatened the city, and they attacked it, just before it fell…"
Thundercracker shook his helm. "Are… Andromeda and Tealwing all right?"
"They're dead," Starscream said. "And they aren't the only ones. Some died in the battle, some when the city fell…"
He listed designations of mecha they'd known. Thundercracker looked down at his hands as he listened.
"…And the Autobots won't give up," Starscream continued. "They're determined to wipe us all out to restore 'order' or whatever it is they say they want. They—"
"Stop," Thundercracker said.
"Excuse me?"
"It's just… a lot to take in."
"We'll leave you to think about it then," Starscream said. "I suppose you don't know where your room is."
Thundercracker shook his helm.
"Well, you can ask around," Starscream said. "Come on, Skywarp. I have things to do."
They left. Skywarp hesitated in the doorway, looking back.
"Skywarp!"
"It's just about surviving at this point," Skywarp said with a guilty expression on his faceplate. "You have to understand."
"Come on!"
They left. Thundercracker shuttered his optics. He could check later, but there would be no reason for them to lie about the fact that Vos was gone. Vos was gone... he could barely comprehend it.
And Skywarp was wrong. It wasn't just about surviving. If the Autobots had done this—if they had killed so many of his friends—then they needed to pay for it, and he would do everything in his power to make them pay.
Jazz had liked his office in Mirage's house a lot better. It had been smaller, but it had a nice desk with lots of drawers. This place was a small meeting room, with a table and a bunch of chairs everywhere. He'd rearranged them a couple of times, but there was no way to make the room look anything but eerily empty, so he'd just stacked them in a sort of lopsided pyramid.
Ratchet had eventually hunted him down with some help from Mirage and Mainspring—the traitors—and had given him a thorough check-up. He'd suffered through it, being intentionally difficult, talking back to the medic, and generally antagonizing him. By the end of it, Jazz was pretty sure Ratchet had enjoyed the whole ordeal about as much as he had.
He felt kind of bad about that—Ratch really was a good mech, and Jazz was grateful for his help.
He tapped his fingers on the table. He wanted to go back into the main room. The quiet emptiness of this one did not agree with him. He needed some music at the very least. As soon as he was done reading those stupid reports, he'd go find someone to talk to.
There was a knock at the door.
In Mirage's tower, they'd had a camera system set up so you could see who was outside of your office, but that was another luxury they'd lost.
"It's not locked," Jazz called.
The door slid open, and Jazz was surprised to see Prowl there.
"Hey, mech," he said. "Need something?"
Prowl being here in person was definitely unusual. He would normally have commed if he had something to tell Jazz. Had anyone seen his interaction with Soundwave? The telepath could have switched him out with Makeshift… what about Blaster? Well, there was no way to know if the fledgling was loyal. He could theoretically be working for the 'Cons. That would be bad news. Jazz pulled a knife out of subspace, and held it under the table. He watched carefully as the Praxian approached him. The mech was moving like Prowl, and when he glanced over at Jazz's leaning pyramid of chairs, his doorwings twitched in an annoyed sort of way that seemed right.
He did have an unusually subdued expression on his faceplate, though.
"Actually, no," Prowl said. "I don't need something."
"Okay," Jazz said, and the silence stretched out until it was almost comical.
Then Prowl sighed and pulled a box out of subspace. "Truce?"
A board game.
Jazz's optic ridges shot up, but then he smirked. "Ha. I win."
"We haven't played yet."
Jazz put the knife away. Makeshift wouldn't expose himself by playing a board game with Jazz. Jazz would still keep his guard up, but this had gotten a whole lot more interesting, and a whole lot less suspicious. "Don't matter. I still won. Sit down. I generously accept your surrender, Prowler."
Prowl shook his helm and took a chair from the pile. "That is not my designation."
"I keep forgetting," Jazz said.
"Dare I ask why the chairs…"
"Aesthetic," Jazz said.
Prowl blinked. For a moment, Jazz thought he might be trying not to smile, but then he sat and put the board game on the table, looking completely calm and collected again. "I apologize for sending you to fight in the Tagan Heights battle. I… apologized earlier, but I realized after Iacon fell that I had been talking to Makeshift."
"Bet he didn't know what the pit ya were talking about."
"No, I don't believe he did," Prowl said. "I suppose that should have made me suspicious. In any case, I am sorry."
Jazz sighed. "Well, Prowler, I was gonna have ta kill someone eventually. I'm not mad or anything. I get it." He still felt guilty about it, and it still scared him that it had been so easy. He hadn't even had to think—he'd lost himself in the fighting. If some Autobot had gotten in the way, he might have killed them too. "Besides," he continued, "More mecha would be offline if I hadn't gone."
"That is true."
"Thanks for getting' me outta the Decepticon base," Jazz said. "Guess I should thank Prime and Ironhide too."
Prowl nodded as he finished setting up the board. "I didn't do much—I wasn't even supposed to be there. Would you like to move first?"
Jazz nodded and moved one of the pieces on his side of the board. He was probably going to lose, but he'd give it all he had, and next time he'd insist that it was his turn to pick the game.
The news anchor wore an Autobot insignia. Since the Autobots had reclamed Iacon, many mecha had joined. Now, while they still didn't match the Decepticons in numbers, they were getting much closer.
"Optimus Prime," he said. "Will you share with us your plans for the future? Now that you've got Iacon back, are the Autobots going to go on the offensive and reclaim the other cities the 'Cons have taken?"
Optimus took a few moments to consider the question. "We would like to free those cities from the Decepticons, but I will not waste lives in attempting to take them by force. The Decepticons must be stopped and if an opportunity presents itself, we will act, but we will not go on the offensive if there is unnecessary risk involved."
"Thank you," the anchor said. "As Primus's chosen servant, do you have anything to say about the Core that might help the citizens of Iacon and other city-states understand what's happened and what to do about it."
"The Core of Cybertron has gone dark," Optimus said. "When Primus gave me the Matrix, he explained that we would need to use our resources carefully, and that we may eventually need to seek energon in other parts of the galaxy. However, for now it is important that everyone remain calm. There is still plenty of energon on the planet—enough for many vorns. I would encourage all to use power sparingly, but there is no reason to hoard energon or endanger yourself or others attempting to obtain extra energon. We're working on conservation methods and we have allies in Altihex and Nova Cronum working on long-term solutions. Instructions on how to help reduce our societal energon demands will reach you soon, and we will continue to provide assistance as needed to prevent rioting and looting."
"Thank you, Prime.," The news anchor said. "With the Council gone—and I know this is old news—will you still be running Iacon under martial law or is there a plan in place for another system of governing?"
"We have appointed a temporary Council," Optimus said. "But unfortunately, I fear the Decepticons will not cease their attempts to conquer the planet, and we will need the city's resources to stop him."
Primus had shown him the outcome of the war—Optimus knew it could end with Cybertron in ruins—but that did not change what he had to do. It would be a betrayal of his calling to allow Megatron to win, and an even greater betrayal to sacrifice what was right for the sake of the greater good.
He had only one course of action.
"I do not want this war," he said. "But I will not shy away from it either. It is my duty as your Prime to protect the mecha of this world in any way that is required of me. The Decepticons will spread darkness across the globe, wasting resources on fighting. The sooner we can overcome them, the sooner we will be able to focus on the energon crisis and the reform of the Council system. Many of the Decepticons are good mecha who have been wronged by the governments of their city-states, but that does not give them an excuse to harm the innocent, and so I will fight to prevent that. I ask you, good citizens of this world, to fight alongside me. I am Optimus Prime, the last of the Primes, and I call upon all who are able to assist us in our efforts to stop Megatron and restore peace. The very survival of our world depends upon it."
The End
Notes/Acknowledgments:
1. Thank you for reading my story! I hope you enjoyed it. :)
2. As always, I couldn't have done it without my beta readers. Unlike Many Voices, this story is very different from my first draft, and it took a huge effort to revise and re-write it. I'm so grateful to have a group of friends and siblings who were willing to bear with me as I took it apart and put it back together again. Without their input and support, it would be a terrible mess.
3. As I've probably mentioned before, I have quite a few stories planned. The next one will be called "Age of Smoke" and will cover a large portion of the war. I'm not finished drafting it, but I'm pretty excited about what I've written for it so far. :)
4. That said, I'm super busy right now. I'm graduating from college in a few months, and I have to job hunt and keep up with student teaching and my last few classes and all kinds of stuff, so I won't be able to start revising and posting Age of Smoke right away. In fact, I'm not sure when I'll be ready, so for now I'm just going to say this series is on a hiatus of undetermined length. I'll still be posting spare parts chapters here and there, so I'll use those to keep you updated on news about the next big story.
5. Again, a huge thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, or left comments on Revolution! I'm always so happy to hear what people think, and encouraged by all of the positive feedback I've gotten. Thank you so much!