The Honor in Duty
Chapter 3
A Shift in Perspectives
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, everyone! Hey, wouldja look at that, I'm even posting on a Friday, like I'm supposed to! Anywho, this chapter was pretty fun to write, so I hope you all enjoy it. This chapter goes a bit more into several things, so with luck, it'll answer some of the questions you may or may not have... It may also spark a few more...
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I didn't get the rights to the Transformers during the holidays, so I still do not own Transformers, or Transformers: Prime. Huge thanks as always to the grand and amazing... *drum roll, please*... enmused!
Review Responses: To AllSpark Princess: Yes... Things do seem rather glum for Team Prime and our favorite defectors don't they? But don't worry, like they say, it's darkest before the dawn... When that dawn will get its act together and show up... Well. Not even I know all the answers. Have fun with this next chapter, and I look forward to getting to read more of your what you think!
To redlinevcr: And here you go, another chapter in the lives of our team! Hope you enjoy!
To adelphe24: Thank you for reviewing! Every new reader/reviewer makes my day! I see you've finished up with Duty and Deceit... I really did finish up on a bit of massive cliffie there didn't I? Lucky for you, I don't plan on stopping anytime soon, so keep coming back for your semi-regular dose of Team Prime & Co. Hmm... Terabyte, Skyquake, and Jetfire are giving me the evil-optic for reducing them to '& Co'... Better go take care of that...
To Cashagon: Ooh, yes. I've been leading up to the Shifting for a long, long time now... Honestly, I'm probably as excited about getting it written as you are to be reading it! And yes, while being the household dishwasher, one often finds many things to ponder. As far as the Dark Energon goes, I considered the Dark En affecting her, but it just seemed to cliche to go through with. So basically, the our favorite Decepticon medic purged her systems and that's part of why she had been unconscious in the med-bay for two orns - about three and a half weeks. Thank you for your questions, and I hope I've answered them, and I look forward to hearing more.
The tiny femme sat in solitude in the renowned Urayan oil baths, the only bot to come out at such an absurd joor of the night cycle. It was almost sunrise now. That was why she'd come out here so late. To watch the suns rise as she had so many times with Skyquake. She drew her black diamond shaped knees up to her chest, hugging them close as she soaked forlornly in the pleasantly steaming hot oil.
She had to admit, she'd needed this. She'd needed this really badly. After all, it had been over a quartex since Skyquake left and she'd been overworking herself for every waking astrosecond of it. The oil felt so good on her protoform and in her golden joints. The spy stretched out and let herself sink into the bath so that just her optics and finials stuck out of it.
Three rotations into her vacation and she had only briefly thought about her work. She had however thought of Skyquake almost nonstop. She smiled wistfully behind her mask. There was no point in pining away waiting for him to come back. Missions off-world… well, most bots never came back. Skyquake of course, would. Eventually. But until then, she would continue living her life. Normally.
He would be so disappointed to see how much time she'd already spent being miserable. He promised he would return and she ought to rest easy trusting that promise, because no distance or time could taint their friendship.
"Good morning!" Someone called brightly, slipping into the oil by the small femme. "Beautiful, isn't it? The sunrise, I mean. Of course, the oil feels just lovely as always too. I'm Novaflare, Autobot scout – recently promoted into Bumblebee's team! I'm so excited, I start next orn!"
The Decepticon femme straightened minutely in the oil, getting her weapons ready should this bubbly scout decide to quit chatting and attack. The Autobot femme was a compact four-wheeled vehicle, her armor magenta with gold and white accents – ridiculously bright for a scout. She was a young recruit, probably still a decavorn or so older than the spy.
"The sunrise is indeed splendid." The Prussian blue and black Decepticon agreed carefully, watching the bright scout warily. If the Autobot did nothing, then she too would not act. She was on vacation, and this Novaflare person seemed naïve enough to let alone. "My designation is Terabyte."
"Oh! Are you an Enforcer? You sound just like one, I'm sure you are!" Novaflare giggled, "My creator's an Enforcer, and my carrier was too!"
She raised an optic ridge, but decided to humor the femme, "Ah… Something of the sort, yes."
There weren't supposed to be Autobots in this sector. What would Soundwave want her to do? Reveal her identity and attempt to detain her? Ignore her and finish the last rotation of her leave in peace?
"So what rank are you? Have you ever detained a criminal? Ooh! Whose division are you in?"
Absorbing the slew of questions, the spy blinked. "I… My rank is Major, Second in Command of the Communications and Intelligence Division. I serve under Soundwave and the Lord Protector."
Novaflare let out a shrill squeak, leaping out of the oil bath and levelling a trembling stun gun at her. Her sweet, cheery voice shook as she said, "Y-you're a Decepticon?! Uh, p-put your h-hands where I c-can see them and stand up…"
As she began to do as asked, the magenta femme shrieked in panic, "Slowly! S-slowly, um, p-please."
Smiling faintly behind her battle mask, the spy obliged, slowing her motions further, her hands still raised over her helm. Hot black oil slid down her frame, her yellow biolights shining through it into the ever-lightening morning. "Am I the first Decepticon you have met in person, Novaflare? If you do not mind my asking, of course."
Like she'd expected, the Autobot femme looked utterly confused now, the stun blaster lowering slightly of its own accord. "U-um, maybe? Commander T-Trailbreaker s-says I'm not s'posed to talk to you during an arrest…"
"You have likely been told innumerable tales of Decepticon horrors, am I right?" The spy went on softly, "I do not much fit that description, now do I?"
"… N-no…" Came the shaky, uncertain reply. "B-but I still need to restrain you, 'cause I called for back-up, a-and I'll be in trouble if you're not in cuffs…"
"You called for back-up." She repeated firmly, her tone hardening, "Who is your back-up?"
Novaflare shook her helm obstinately, pulling out a pair of stasis cuffs and approaching cautiously, stun gun once again aimed at her spark. The spy's engine growled, but she stayed put. "You're on the wrong side of this war, Novaflare. The Autobots have destroyed entire cities for a mere handful of enemies. They did that to my city, they'll do that to yours, and they won't stop until Cybertron itself is dead."
The Autobot hesitated for a moment, considering her words before at last discarding them. "That isn't true! We stand for peace, a-and freedom!"
"Protihex. That was my home. Look it up when you are back in Iacon; your records will gloat about the marvellous victory of the Wreckers."
When the femme continued advancing, the two-wheeler gave up on persuading her, and sprang into action. Dodging stun blasts with a fluid cartwheel, she leapt into the air and kicked the brightly painted femme to the ground, pinning her under one foot as she crouched down. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that. I know what your superiors are like, even if you do not yet."
Picking up the scout's stun gun, she stunned the Autobot and ran, already hearing the engines of the other Autobots driving in.
"Yo, Skydump! Careful with that!" Agent Fowler shouted, waving his arms angrily, "You see those big red letters? They say 'fragile'! As in, don't drop it!" The agent waved his arms some more when Skyquake didn't respond with more than a glower. "Hey! Decepticon, tin-head! You even listening to a word I just said?"
The large green jet stared at the human. His expression would have been frighteningly calm if the fleshy had cared enough to look higher than his knee. Ruby optics shone with a murderous light, and Skyquake could practically feel the organics internal systems crushing to a paste beneath his foot. He could practically hear the fleshy begging for its life beforehand.
At last he bent down for a moment and picked up the dark-skinned arrogant flesh-bag by his too-small suit coat, lifting him up to glare at him face-to-face.
"Fleshling. My designation is Skyquake, and I am a Decepticon no longer," He sneered at the human held between his servos, watching the sweat pour down his face as his squishy spark pattered abnormally fast, "As evidenced by your continued puny existence. An existence which your levels of respect are putting at risk, flesh-bag."
The man spluttered, finally just shouting, "Put me down!"
When he did so, the man crossed his arms and glared up at him. "When the big O hears about this, I'll-"
"Do absolutely nothing, because Optimus Prime isn't here!" Skyquake roared at him, loud enough that the sound waves actually knocked the human to his aft.
Agent Fowler continued to glower mulishly at the mech until at last an odd expression came over his face and the man wilted. "You think I don't know that? The Cons have your techy girlfriend and our boss, and there's nothing any of us can do about it."
"There is much we can do about it." He countered, moving the last crate of equipment onto the trailer. "Our current leadership simply refuses to act."
With that, Skyquake transformed and jetted off, leaving the dark fleshy in the dust. He took a small comfort in the soft late summer winds caressing his wings and the thin clouds sliding around him as he sped through the air. He twirled through the air, spinning into a compact spiral, revelling in the speed, the freedom.
The winds seemed to shriek in delight as he cut through, then their jubilant cries mellowed into a familiar twinkling laugh as he levelled out. He suddenly became all too aware of how light he seemed without her perched on his wings.
The green jet's spark gave a pang of longing and the mech dropped from the sky like a stone, transforming as he went so that the air's cheerful giggling would cease. He had no time for gallivanting through the clouds. She was in Decepticon hands, and now that she knew what they were, the veneer of decency would be gone and whatever purpose Megatron had for her was bound to be less than pleasant.
They would make Terabyte suffer for her betrayal, and for his, and he knew for a fact that she was not in full control of her actions. Whatever Megatron had used as a bargaining chip with her now held her under his power.
Skyquake landed hard on his feet on the plateau of the Autobot base, stirring up a cloud of dust and frightening a nesting eagle from its perch. The bird squawked at him rebukingly, fluffing its wings unhappily.
Terabyte - and the Prime - had been gone for two quartex. Four months, he had been patient. He had waited for the Autobots to mount a rescue op. They'd gone on patrols, shifted junk for the squishies, and hi-jacked the Decepticon space bridge to send Arcee and the sparkling to Cybertron to 'find Vector Sigma'. None of that was helping get back their bots, and if they weren't going to do anything about it, he would.
Four months, he'd been a good Autobot POW and followed the order of things. But now he was done being a good soldier. It was time to be a good friend. It was time to bring their bots home.
Click.
Terabyte's gaze shot up in alarm and she watched the faint purple glow traverse the ventilation shaft directly above her berth. She closed her optics quickly. Silently the spy charged up her cannon and let her battle protocols whirr to life, but she remained in her berth, bios faint and vents at recharge speeds.
As expected, a moment later she heard another series of quiet clicking and the access panel to the vents opened. Internal proximity alerts blared. She received a notification from her quarters that there was an intruder above her berth.
A tiny appendage pierced into the berth, causing Terabyte's frame to slide towards the dip as she continued to feign sleep. When she sensed that the insectoid intruder was about to 'wake' her, the two-wheeler said calmly, "Good joor, Airachnid."
She smirked as the spider femme gave a startled squeak, then a defeated snarl as she felt the warmth of Terabyte's cannon pressed into her belly. She opened her optics just in time to watch Airachnid's foot get tangled in the nanoweave berth coverings, then the whole femme tripped over and crashed into the display case next to the berth, cursing as a heavy-assault rifle fell from its perch and landed a nasty dent on her shoulder.
Rising from her berth as though nothing were wrong, she helped the purple and gold spider to her pedes with a small bow of her helm. "Please, take a seat. Would you like some Energon, ma'am?"
Airachnid glared at her, but sat down as requested, curling her pedes up under herself and acting like all of this was a part of her plan in intruding. "At this joor?"
Ignoring the question, Terabyte stalked over to her kitchen and pulled out two small cubes, "Sweet or regular?"
"Actually, I was just passing through." Airachnid said finally, rising from the hard couch. The spy's finials picked up a suspicious motion from the spider, but she didn't turn around. "Thank you for your unexpected hospitality, Flip-Sides. But I wouldn't want to intrude."
"Is that so?" She asked innocently, frowning minutely as the femme behind her continued moving around her berth as she spoke. "I will not keep you then. If you don't mind replacing the cover to my ventilation shaft as you leave?"
"Oh yes, of course." The other femme said through gritted denta, obviously very displeased that whatever plan she had was foiled so easily. "Anything for our dear traitor."
When Terabyte turned around, the spider had left and her room was exactly as it had been prior to her guest's arrival. She spent the next groon searching for traps or left behind 'gifts', but at last gave up and went back to recharge, the snarled remarks, biting taunts, and sneers of the Nemesis crew swirling through her disturbed recharge.
That Morning.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
That was weird. She didn't have an alarm set. So what was that beeping? The beeping sped up, and the spy bolted upright, searching frantically for a bomb. Rapid beeping was never a good sign, and right after a visit from Airachnid, it could only be unpleasant. As she searched, the beeps sped into a continuous whine and Terabyte gave up her search, bolting for the best cover she could find, which unfortunately was very little.
Smoke started pouring from under her berth and she quickly powered down her audials to lessen the pain, covering her helm with her hands and waiting. A fraction of an astrosecond later her quarters shook and her belongings crashed all around her. Two more explosions rattled the room and when Terabyte looked up, everything she owned was covered in soot and nothing was where it had been left.
Pieces of her berth, which had contained much of the damage, were strewn across her room. And as if everything she owned being destroyed wasn't enough, a disgusting sticky white substance coated most of the room, and she herself was covered in the stuff. Spider's silk and charcoal.
She sighed heavily, rising from behind the shattered display case where she'd taken cover. A lovely start to the day, courtesy of Airachnid.
And she was late for work.
One Orn Later
"Orion asks many questions."
Terabyte stiffened at the voice of the warlord, straightening minutely and making sure her armor was sufficiently flared. She inclined her helm in as slight of a bow as she could manage. "A valuable trait in an archivist-"
"But not a Decepticon." Megatron cut her off sharply. "It is only a matter of time before he unravels our fabrications and his innate sense of right and wrong rises to the surface. I only hope that Orion will complete Project 'Iacon' before I am forced to destroy him once and for all."
She frowned faintly at his choice of words, an action that did not go unnoticed by him. Meanwhile Soundwave stood as stoic as ever behind his office desk.
The silver Decepticon Lord Protector's expression grew dark and he stepped forward, looming over the petite two-wheeler menacingly, his deep engine rumbling loudly through the small expanse of the office. Instinctively the femme shrank within her armor, yet also instinctively showing no outward signs of fear.
"Yes, Terabyte, I am not actually so evil as your Autobots have led you to believe-"
"You did that yourself, my lord."
He rolled his violet optics at her, turning around to glower at the door with his hands clasped behind his back. "I would prefer to keep my meddling, self-righteous brother alive, believe it or not. It is not my proudest trait, but it is as it is."
Terabyte showed no reaction, but her spark gave a pulse of regret. She of all bots should know that bots were not always all that they seemed or acted. After all, she'd unwillingly betrayed her new faction twice in about as many quartex. Yet Megatron was not in any way the same as her. He knew all along what the Decepticons were and he enjoyed it and he created them like this.
She pursed her masked lips. "I suppose you will discard preference in favor of slaughtering our Prime so you can conquer and pillage the cosmos in the name of tyrannical peace?"
The silver warlord grinned at her, baring his filed fangs. "What was it you accused me of being? Ah yes, a 'homicidal, Unicron-possessed megalomaniac bent on galactic domination' I believe it was? Yes… Quite fitting, don't you think, Soundwave?"
The communications head practically radiated displeasure, and his engine actually let out a light growl, almost unnoticeably. Then Terabyte heard her own voice, carefully inflectionless, "With all due respect, sir, shall we get to the point?"
Megatron just chuckled at his third in command, still bearing that menacing smirk. "As you wish… Knockout!"
The red medic came in immediately as summoned, bowing respectfully to his leader and the CI head, then sneering at her. "Yes, Lord Megatron?"
"Report."
"Project Shifter is progressing admirably, given the, ah, shall we say invasive nature of the operations involved." Knockout winked at her, sending a shiver down her aching spine from her last 'operation'. "As you know, Makeshift's CNA within the test subject is fully functional, yet her frame and protoform lacked the molecular versatility to enact it. Long story short, I've engineered a prototype dose of nanobots that will rearrange her molecular structure at will, creating the desired Shifting ability, with the added bonuses. When I finish, she should be able to Shift into anyone she wishes, excluding combiners and titans. Theoretically, of course."
"How long?" Megatron rumbled, his intrigue clearly piqued.
"Oh, I've already administered the dose, and put it to the test. Repeatedly."
She clamped down on the whine that tried to escape her engine as she recalled the first test. And the second and the third. It had been nearly two quartex since the Unicron ordeal. Four Earth months. Arcee's brief moment on the ship had been about one month ago. The crew of the Nemesis had been anything but kind to her, and Airachnid was the worst, wreaking havoc in her life as much as she possibly could. In that time, Knockout had worked ceaselessly on this project, and the toll of his experimentations on her frame had even caused the medic to leave off on his additional 'procedures' whose only purpose had been to cause her pain.
The testing of the nanobots was progressing though. Not even she could deny him that. In fact, they worked, completely. What he had been working on now was merely attempting to lessen the pain the molecular restructuring caused. That side of the project however, had not been progressing. Or maybe she just couldn't tell anymore.
"Demonstrate." The warlord ordered, sitting down and leaning back to enjoy the show.
Knockout glanced at her and shifted nervously, his proud grin slipping into more of a grimace. For the briefest of moments, Terabyte thought she glimpsed a flash of pity and regret in his cherry-red optics. A touch of fear shone in her own ruby gaze.
"Ahh… About that…" The medic cringed faintly under Megatron's violet scrutiny, "The nanobots are still a… work in progress. Perhaps an official demonstration would be best at a later date?"
"Terabyte," She stiffened at her former leader's commanding tone, the slave code whirring in expectation of a new order to enact. "Demonstrate the good doctor's work."
Before she could respond or answer in any manner, her flared armor relaxing in preparation. Her protoform turned icy cold and her armor felt suddenly as though it were burning to slag. Her engine let out a quiet whine that grew exponentially as the Shifting began. Her optics widened and she felt her face-mask melt away as it reformed, her fangs lengthening and sharpening and her height nearly tripling in less than a klick.
Her shoulders broadened and spiked up. When her finials began to Shift, Terabyte shrieked in agony, her ability to restrain herself lost as the pain reached a climax. At last her armor fell back into place and she went still, vents heaving raggedly as pink coolant slid down the silver face that she now wore.
Megatron looked her over from helm to toe with criticizing optics, at last rising from his seat and looking her straight in the optics. His expression was hard to read, but she could tell he was impressed. Tossing a quick glance down at herself, she saw a perfect replica of the warlord in front of her. She'd Shifted into Megatron.
"Speak, femme."
"Megatron is commanded by no one." She replied contemptuously, adopting his mannerisms and speech patterns with ease, her altered vocalizers producing his voice perfectly. Her rendition of the warlord was flawed only by the streaks of dried coolant on her face. Or rather, on his face that she wore.
"Excellent." Megatron replied, smirking, yet all the while regarding her face as though he'd never seen tears on his face before. "Well done, Knockout. Though the realm of stealth could stand to be… improved."
The red medic chuckled nervously up at the two Megatrons looking down at him, the real one smirking like he wanted to kill something, and the imposter glaring at him with much the same intent. "Yes, the, ah, tears and wailing do take somewhat from the effect."
Terabyte's engine growled, a deep, echoing rumble that shook the room, making her momentarily quirk her lips upwards in a shocked, but pleased smirk. Growling in anger really was much more intimidating when one was this size.
"Enough." Megatron said, an undertone of satisfaction hidden beneath his displeasure. "Change back and return to your duties, Lieutenant."
"Lord Megatron," Knockout said, his smooth drawl a touch concerned as he glanced at her again, "Perhaps it would be best if we allowed her frame time to recover before-"
Whatever else he was going to say was drowned from her audials amidst the sound of her own screams. Ingrained slave codes would wait for nothing.
She shivered convulsively, stretching out a shaky hand and hitting the button for the floor she wanted. Knockout, for a reason that for now escaped her, had insisted on escorting her to Orion's lab. He'd already given her more pain medications than she figured was normal.
Terabyte had managed so far to walk on her own, but to her chagrin couldn't muster the additional strength to flare her armor. When the lift came to a stop, she wobbled and the red Decepticon medic caught her with a dismayed groan that was no doubt for his probably now-scuffed paint job.
"The nanobots weren't ready for such a drastic Shift." He muttered, then, sounding genuinely concerned enough that she was sure she was hallucinating, asked, "You can hardly stand… you're certain you have no choice?"
"Slave code, KO…" She replied, her voice harsh and static-laced as she pulled away from his steadying grip and marched on doggedly, stumbling occasionally. "You know that as well as I do. Why should you care, anyway?"
The mech scoffed, sounding much more like himself, "Well a dead test subject would hardly be ideal. After all, finding a new guinea pig to agonize would be so much harder if word got out that the first one died. Unless you'd rather put that theory to the test?"
The navy and black femme hummed in agreement, her scarlet biolights flickering as she tripped on a piece of scrap metal some Vehicon must have dropped. Once again, Knockout caught her just before she could face-plant into the grungy Nemesis floors.
"Have you ever considered changing sides?"
"Ha!" Knockout nearly dropped her before setting her aright and pulling away to check his paint job. "I can see that's worked out so well for you, Flip-Sides. You switched over and your only reward was slave code to Megatron."
"And what did loyalty to the Decepticons give me?" Terabyte leaned against the wall for a moment to allow her systems to cool off a fraction. "A decavorn of lies, shattered friendships, and-"
"Skyquake." He drawled back, cocking an optic ridge at her, daring her to argue.
She fell silent, tripping along the rest of the way to Orion's lab, neither medic nor test subject speaking. Upon finally reaching her destination, she asked quietly, "… Who do you stay for?"
The red medic levelled her with a flat stare, obviously feeling she'd crossed some unseen line. At last he smirked dryly, "Oh, you know, my dear friends, Buff and Polish."
With that, he swaggered back the way they'd come, leaving Terabyte leaning heavily on the wall in front of the lab. If she'd been in a better frame of mind, she might have seen the troubled look in his optics, or heard the slight waver in his voice. She punched in the code with trembling servos, trying three times before her pain dulled processors remembered which code was right.
Orion frowned, tapping rapidly over the keyboards. This was wrong. He ought not be doing this, hacking into the Nemesis' files like an enemy spy. He ought to trust Terabyte. He ought to trust Megatron, his own brother.
But they were both lying to him. Over even the littlest things, and they didn't think he realized it. He told Terabyte that he'd discovered her quirk, the way her finial gave her away when she was lying. Megatron had his own tells as well, though it was plain that the mech had become significantly more advanced in the art of deceit in his vorns of absence.
What he was finding in the records was disturbing, and it was becoming very clear to him that a majority of the files had been heavily modified. For what purpose, he had yet to decipher.
Starscream. These records claimed him to be the SIC of the Decepticon army. Yet he was nowhere to be found on board and his name had been erased from the crew manifest. He would have to inquire further into this matter…
Thunk. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Access denied.
Tap… Tap-tap… Tap. Access denied.
Orion Pax cocked his helm and quickly traced his path through the systems and erased his digital footprint, closing down all evidence of tampering. He turned and opened the door right as whoever was on the other side submitted yet another wrong code. Nevertheless, the door opened and she gained a look of weary success.
The femme shoved herself upright from where she was leaning on the door frame, limping into the room and giving him the usual respectful half-bow that he still didn't understand. The action seemed to set off her equilibrium and she tripped right into his arms with a grunt and a hiss.
"Terabyte…" He rumbled, watching the tiny femme in his arms with concern. He seemed to be finding her in this position quite a lot. Which was a rather puzzling occurrence, as the manifests claimed she had not left the Nemesis since her arrival on board with him. "You are unwell. What ails you?"
"I'm afraid the matter is… classified." She bit out, sounding quite aggravated with her own answer. She seemed to want to say more, yet remained silent.
The large scarlet and blue mech's engine gave a disgruntled grumble. "I apologize, Terabyte, but I refuse to continue in this manner. Your condition has degraded exponentially in the past two quartex back on the Nemesis, and all of my inquiries have been rebuffed."
He carried her with ease, setting her down gently across two chairs. Her frame was too light. Unhealthily light. In order for her frame to weigh so little, her very protoform would have to have degraded. "You… lack weight… You must see the medic."
The navy and black femme sat up stubbornly, politely pushing his hands away as he attempted to pick her up again. "I assure you, the medic is well aware of my condition, Orion Pax."
Pax raised a sceptical optic ridge at her, his spark stirring in its chamber. Feelings not his own swept through him, a sense of ancientness and wisdom about them. "Something restrains you, something from within."
"Please, Orion." Terabyte's voice sounded pained and her ruby optics clouded over with a pain he could only recognize as mental. With every word she spoke, he could see the pain growing, "You do not understand. I can't answer your questions. The Decepticons are tampering with bio-mechanical genetics, along with slave coding and I am-"
Her helm jerked to the side and the femme let out a little gasp. Her voice was cold and inflectionless – almost robotic – when she spoke next. "I must serve my master, the mighty Lord Megatron. You ought to continue in your work as ordered, Orion, lest disciplinary action be taken."
Orion's spark cringed. If his brother truly was meddling in Cybertronian genetic manipulation and slave coding, two highly unethical fields of science outlawed by even the Senate, perhaps more had changed in his vorns of absence than he had wished to accept. He watched as the little femme returned to her work on the Iacon project.
He looked down at the floor for a moment, thoughts roiling in conflict within him, his spark churning with the arguing voices of the ancients within it, almost as though a foreign creature dwelt within him.
It was pulling, tugging, tearing at his spark. Calling him.
Optimus Prime. Awake.
Awake!