A/N: So I took a quick study break, and this happened...

Please R & R

~~~Epsilon Pax

#

The steady hum of monitors, coupled with the ringing refrain of the occasional chirrup of sensors that streamed a live data feed served as an unearthly and eerie kind of music, one that echoed plaintively off of the high walls of the abandoned military base. Its cadence was one they all simultaneously clung to and yet feared; an irreconcilable dichotomy that nagged constantly at the edges of their consciousness.

Feeling world weary, Jack rested his forearms against the high railing that encircled one of the many elevated platforms in the base, nearly all of which were mounted with modified screens and equipment; a fusion of varying technologies, of human and Cybertronian, of familiar and other. Yet, impossibly, for Jack—for all of them really—such had become more than familiar; it was now normal.

Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, Jack looked down once more to the uneasy sight below him.

There, the unmoving frame of Optimus had been laid to rest on one of Ratchet's examination tables. A dizzying array of monitors and sensors, all highly tuned to detecting even a modicum of fluctuation in his vital signs, were crowded around that frame that lay so still. With his optics shut, his battle mask still firmly in place, that graven countenance could have been an unearthed monument of antiquity, a poignant reminder of all that should not have fallen, but yet, somehow, impossibly, had.

So yes, while such an impossible blend of technologies had become a normal aspect of Jack's life, the sight before him was not.

Jack hadn't known any of the bots, let alone Optimus, for very long, but if there was one thing that had been impressed upon the young human's heart and mind it had been that their leader, that Optimus, had been an individual unlike any other he had ever met before. Jack had never witnessed Optimus show any weakness or fear, he had never seen Optimus be anything except strong, encouraging, loyal, protective and courageous. Of course, Jack would have to be blind to not recognize the weight that the Autobot Leader bore as well, an ever-present sorrow that none of them could understand, could never truly alleviate. As numerous as the scraps, dents and scars that plagued his tough frame, so too were there deep wounds within Optimus.

How many times, had Jack glimpsed their traces in quiet moments, when Prime had stood alone, wordlessly studying readouts; in such occurrences, while it would have appeared to anyone else that Optimus was intently focused on monitoring Decepticon activity, the distant look in his optics told Jack, time and time again, that the Autobot leader's thoughts were traversing other paths far and distant. To anyone else, such behavior would have easily been interpreted as being aloof, or standoffish, but Jack had watched him in those moments, had known it wasn't because Optimus was purposely being removed, rather it was because he suffered from a thousand regrets in silence.

That was until now. Until Orion had been forcibly brought back to the base, back home, Jack had never before witnessed that oh so carefully constructed and maintained façade of strength and resilience crumble. Until now, he had never realized just how much of a façade it had been, or how much pain it had been constructed to cover.

They had been friends, brothers even…Jack found it hard to wrap his mind around such a notion. Megatron once was Megatronus just as Optimus Prime was once Orion Pax, and long ago, longer than Jack could realistically understand, the two had fought side by side, just like Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee and even Ratchet fought together, united as a team, a family.

"Jack?" Ratchet called over to the young human, his gait slow and heavy as he approached, his optics dim and dull from the strain of the last few hours, "You should get some rest, it's late. Besides, don't you have school tomorrow?"

Jack never took his eyes off of Optimus' unmoving frame, "I'm not going…this is a little more important than geometry right now, Ratch."

"You shouldn't sacrifice your education this way Jack."

"A week or two isn't going to matter too much, I'll catch up…I'll have Mom tell them I'm having my appendix removed or something."

Still grappling with understanding human biology, Ratchet had to access the World Wide Web to look up the reference, "Do you need to have your appendix removed? I probably could—"

"No, I'm not being serious, Ratch, take it easy." Jack almost smiled then, almost, "But seeing as it's not entirely unheard of, it'd be a good way to explain why I haven't been at school lately."

"Jack, you should go tomorrow…Optimus would have wanted you to." Ratchet studied the young man's vitals, noting his drawn and pinched expression, the dark hollows that were beginning to form beneath his eyes. While Cybertronians could function for relatively long periods of time under even the most severe duress, humans could not. And what Jack needed most right now, aside from nutrients, was several solid hours of sleep.

"You know… Miko and Raf are going to go to school tomorrow…"He tried to change tactics.

"I'm not going, Ratchet. They can do as they want, but I'm staying here."

It was an unyielding wall of stubbornness, but at least it was an emotion that Ratchet was well versed in. Had it been Cybertronian stubbornness Ratchet would have merely pulled rank—"I'm your physician, therefore do it because I say so!"—but when it came to human stubbornness, it was a slightly more complicated matter, one that he could not merely bulldoze through. Then again there was always one solution he could fall back to: June. As the human mother of the group, not even Miko could brazenly disobey her, or at least not for long. Yet, just as he was about to contact her for a very discrete and yet succinct conversation about her son, Jack looked up at Ratchet for the first time since the medical officer had approached the young human. The emotions, which glimmered in his dark eyes and were scattered across his features, were of a caliber that Ratchet could not ignore.

"Ratchet…"Suddenly his voice sounded so very, very young and so very, very uncertain, "why did he say no?"

Ratchet was completely taken off guard, and did nothing to conceal his confusion, "Pardon?"

"Optimus…or Orion," Jack exhaled in a gush of words and pent up emotions, "He said that he didn't want to bear some sort of burden, that he didn't accept something…" He trailed off, as the memory of Optimus looking down at him without comprehension or recognition shivered through him, "Was he talking about being a Prime? Ratchet, did Optimus not want to become Prime? Did he refuse at first?"

Now it was Ratchet's turn to cycle air through his systems in emulation of a human sigh, as his facial plates grew solemn. How could he tell Jack how great of an honor, a burden it was to be the Prime? How could one manifest through words alone how much influence and responsibility the Prime wielded? How no ordinary Cybertronian could bear that weight within their spark unless they were chosen for it—a selection that was not done idly. There were no words that Ratchet could reach for to give voice to all of the trials and tribulations that he himself had witnessed Optimus bear, wordlessly for eons, without complaint, without hesitation, without anyone. Of this Ratchet was sure, to be a Prime, was to be alone.

Yes, they had fought side by side, they all had claimed a kinship and familiarity with Optimus that went beyond mere friendship, but ultimately that mantle of leadership, all of the cares and weight of past mistakes that could never be undone had all been borne by only one spark. Of course, they all knew the danger they all faced, how any encounter with the Decepticon's might be their last, but only Optimus had felt the substance of their lives, only he carried within his spark each and every loss. How many times in the past had Ratchet stood by, watching as Optimus had decided which bots to send on missions that he knew full well they would not return from; he had sent many to their deaths, just as he had saved countless others. Not that any of them had ever condemned him for his decisions, they never could nor would; Optimus was their Prime, their faith and trust in him would never falter. But what of Optimus' own faith in himself, in his own decisions?

Having been Optimus' friend for the longest out of all the bots, Ratchet had long since witnessed Prime second-guess himself, torturing his processor and spark over every choice he had made that had meant the loss of others. But, the instance that stood in stark relief, that stood out most poignantly to him had been the day that Optimus had arisen, the day that Orion had accepted the mantle of Prime. Ratchet had been there, had stood in the very same crowd that had been irreparably divided the moment that Orion had bowed his head and said, "I accept this burden with all that I am…"

Jack was keen enough to recognize when one of the bots were lost in thoughts from days long passed. In such moments it was hard to not be astonished, to feel diminished and humbled in the presence of such ancient beings; looking at Ratchet now, at the distant look that had dimmed his optics, Jack felt a sudden awareness of just how old the medic must be.

"Ratchet?" he called softly, "…were you there? Were you there the day that Optimus agreed to become Prime?"

Ratchet's voice rose querulously, "Yes, Jack, yes I was…I remember the day that Orion Pax became Optimus Prime…"

#

…was one in which the very air was charged with potent tension. Each and every bot that had gathered within the audience hall of the Council had been drawn there out of something more than mere curiosity. For some it was out of fear that they allowed themselves to be caught up in the mass of metal frames, all jostling for a better position in which to follow the proceedings. For some, a keen desire to know, to learn what would become of Cybertron's leaders, and accordingly, their own individual fate which such leaders governed, had drawn them to this most unusual of assemblies. Yet, for others, fear or political interest had nothing to do with it, but loyalty had. Among many, Ratchet had found himself in that arena out of his friendship and loyalty to Orion Pax. True, the two had only known each other for a brief time, but there had been something within Pax, a deep seated gentility, a natural aversion to violence for the mere sake of violence, a innate benevolence that sought to spare each and everyone no matter their caste or original designation any pain. For such a young and relatively inexperienced mechanism—one that had led such a sheltered existence among the archives—Orion had felt and seemed to possess a level of sagacity well beyond his years.

Standing there before the Council, before the greater population of Cybertron, it was not hard to discern that Orion had been cowed, frightened even. Ratchet could read the tension that had been evident in Pax's every panel, so dissimilar to the aura of haughtiness and pride that Megatronus seemingly radiated. Even from their stance, the difference between the two was painfully evident: Megatronus felt an egotistical right to be there, to blatantly challenge the Council and expect change, while Pax, though similarly determined to seek such a change, was humbled to be in the presence of not just the Council, but before so many of his peers as well, before so many that depended upon him to champion their rights. But for all of his fear, Orion stood tall, held firm and unwavering in his beliefs, willing, though it could have meant his destruction, to call—not disrespectfully demand as Megatronus had—for change within the very Council itself for the sake of preserving the freedom and rights of every Cybertronian.

It was the Council's duty to defend, to protect every Cybertronian no matter what caste or designation they may be, Orion had spoke with conviction and courage that Ratchet, still to this day envied.

But that conviction had waivered, flickering threateningly the moment the Council had decreed that Orion Pax was no more, that instead, it was Optimus Prime who stood before them now. With such a declaration the waves that it stirred rippled outward through the gathered crowd instantaneously, like two warring hurricanes shouts of outright threats and protests clashed with those who threw their whole support and loyalty instantly to the newly proposed Prime. There were many who had suspected such would be the Council's decision, and now, seeing such an expectation fulfilled, they rallied to their new leader, so young and untested as he was, a new Prime had risen, one who they could look to with pride, who appeared to be incorruptible. Who was to know, that those shouts, those initial cries of acceptance or derision would later resonate as battle cries that would stretch across a vast and bloody battlefield.

Having been pressed so close to the narrow and elevated platform upon which both Megatronus and Pax stood, Ratchet, among a few noteworthy others—namely Soundwave—had been held suspended in the eye of those two clashing tempests. Being so hemmed in by the sheer volume and mass of the crowd, all Ratchet could do was look on, riveted to Megatronus and Pax's reactions. Of the former, there was little surprise, for instantly at the proclamation, Megatronus' expression quickly gave way into one of disgust and loathing as he shifted away from Pax, his stance and bearing immediately becoming threatening, so much so that Ratchet was actually concerned that Megatronus might in that moment, right then and there, attack Pax.

Tearing his optics away from Megatronus' vicious countenance, Ratchet looked to Pax, whose own gaze had remained uplifted, flitting from council member to council member in a mix of emotions that ranged just as widely as those that were being so loudly voiced by the surrounding audience.

"Pax! My brother, surely you will not do this? You cannot betray me or our cause in such a way?" When Pax didn't respond, Megatronus' voice became harsh, hurling his words against Pax's audio receptors with venom, " You can't actually believe you could be Prime? You're not strong enough, you would not last a single solar cycle!" Ever manipulative, Megatronus hissed his litany at Orion, just loud enough for those so close to hear, his tone now became soothing and silky, brutally gentle, "I am stronger than you, let me take this burden, I can bear it. Just think of all that I can do for our people if you give this to me; do not accept, Orion so that I may be Prime in your stead and do all that you cannot."

A cry of objection rose from Ratchet's vocal processors, willing Orion to hear him over the din, "Orion do not listen to Megatronus! We will follow you!" Within Ratchet shuddered at the thought of Megatronus become Prime; beside him Soundwave remained unmoving and silent, recording and taking note of everyone's reactions.

Yet hardly had the words left him, that a cry from another bot beside him rose as well. This one was murmured in neither condemnation nor encouragement, but instead it resonated with undiluted pain and sorrow. It was because of the tonal difference in that utterance that Ratchet's audio receptors isolated it out of the din, allowing him to focus in on it. Surprised at the wordless cry, Ratchet turned to regard the bot who stood beside him, understandably taken aback when he beheld the lithe femme trimmed in deep rose and white who had moved forward through the crowds to draw closer to the dais.

"Elita?" Ratchet tried to reach out to her, but her gaze, her entire focus was upon the red and blue mech that stood before the Council.

"Orion…"she trembled, longing clearly in her tone. Instantly, Ratchet understood her sorrow; to be a Prime was to be alone. And while the medic knew the two were close, extraordinarily so, after all, for as long as Ratchet had known Pax he had similarly known of the care and devotion the two had for one another. And if Orion took up such a mantle of responsibility the likelihood of them being able to forge a spark bond would diminish greatly. If she were to bond with a Prime, she would always be a liability, would always be a target, especially in such tempestuous times. She would, in a word, never be safe or out of danger.

Orion shifted ever so slightly in those brief moments after the council had spoken, his optics flitting over to Elita-One's, lingering in sorrowful longing. In that instant Ratchet knew what would happen, what could only happen. Because Orion cared so much for Elita, he would let her go, not just to fight for the greater good of all of Cybertron, not just to continue on the dynasty of the Primes, but for her own safety, to protect her he would push her away.

It was the first of many, many sacrifices that Orion would make in the coming eons.

So it was that Orion bowed his head, and uttered the words that would forever cleave Elita and Megatronus from him. "I accept this burden with all that I am…"

#

"So, Optimus didn't say no, he didn't back down…"

"No, he didn't," Ratchet gustily agreed, "But in that moment he lost the two individuals that mattered the most to him. It was a loss that he was not prepared to make, but he did it anyway, for her and for Cybertron."

Stunned, Jack looked back down onto that still countenance, "He gave up any chance he may have had at happiness…"

Ratchet nodded, "Yes…but there was nothing else he could do, no other answer that he could have given, so that even while he said yes, I knew that his spark said no. Because it was never within Orion to want so much power and influence, he never wanted to be responsible for so many lives…it is a terrible burden to bear…" Ratchet bowed his head, trying to push away the memory, attempting to let it recede, "…To be a Prime is to be alone."