As if from a great distance, June watched Ratchet. Watched him grimace as Orion's sword pierced his side; watched him cling to his Prime desperately; watched him shudder in pain, and watched him fall. She knew she had screamed, could feel the vibrations of the noise as it tore from her throat, and yet the sound somehow never reached her ears, never registered. All of her focus, rather, was centered upon the fallen Autobot.
June drew a rattling gasp of air in, ragged and biting; she blinked and time resumed it normal pace, bringing with it knowledge, too much knowledge. For even as she ran towards Ratchet, her mind distantly registered the fact that Orion had taken Miko, had transformed and had driven away…had left them…had left Ratchet broken and bleeding…had left him as though he was nothing…
"Ratchet!"
Her steps beat against the cooling concrete, splashing in droplets of energon that had been sprayed across the ground. When she reached him, instincts of a nurse kicked in, taking stock of the situation as she drank in the bitter dregs of the aftermath, she drew cautiously nearer. Propped upon one elbow, Ratchet was slumped forward, one hand pressed to his side, his turquoise optics unreadable as he analyzed the wound, assessing the damage. Never had she felt so helpless as she stepped up to the fallen medic; not only they were completely alone here in an area she was not familiar with, but Bulkhead and Bumblebee had left them in a valiant effort to draw Megatron away—a shiver of fear for their safety ghosted up her spine as cannon fire echoed from somewhere beyond the buildings around them. To make matters worse, she didn't have a single scrap of her medical kit with her. Though, as she gazed up at the crumpled panels on Ratchet's abdomen smeared with energon, she doubted anything in her kit would have been of much help anyway.
"Doctor, what do you need?" The reflex of training kicked in; she could hide from the pain, from the feelings of betrayal and anger beneath emergency situation protocol. He had done this…Ruthlessly her mind whispered, Optimus, their Optimus had tried to, had intended to kill Ratchet…Swallowing thickly, June forced her feelings back, packed them down, deep down where they couldn't be heard, couldn't hurt her, as she once again attempted to focus in a more rational, practical manner. This was no different than at the hospital. She was a nurse, assisting a doctor who had a more extensive knowledge of the trauma that had been sustained. "Doctor?" Urgency tightened her tone, increased the volume of her voice when he failed to respond, and the dimness in his optics only alarmed her further, testing her control, her hold on her emotions.
"Yes...yes I hear you, June...it is...all right..." Had to be all right...would be all right...Gingerly he ventured to pull his hand away from the gash, verifying the damage through a series of frantic internal scans. No bio-mechanical organs damaged, a few minor energon veins severed, but not a single servo or gear had even been clipped. It was a deep wound yes, one that pierced almost all the way to his back plates, but it was a clean wound. A careful wound. Suspicion shivered through his neural net as realization dawned: Orion had known precisely what he had been doing, had calculated perfectly where to hit him without yielding any lasting damage. Orion had dealt the blow, but somewhere from within, somehow, it had been Optimus that had guided it. Too bad for Ratchet such knowledge did little to alleviate the pain. It still slagging hurt, hurt with a ferocity that echoed even after Ratchet had shut down the neural receptors around the sliced mesh; but he would live, would live and recover completely in short order.
Primus does not call to you yet...
Ratchet shuddered, not from the physical pain, but deep seated, unable to be healed spark pain. Orion was at the mercy of Megatron's influence, unable to fully grasp who he was, understand fully the repercussions of his actions...and yet, Orion could have killed him, could have reduced him to ribbons of scrap…His optics locked onto his palm, to the blue fluid that had pooled in the hollow of his hand…had Optimus saved him? Was it truly possible that within Orion's spark, Optimus still existed? Still lived?
"Ratchet!"
They needed help...guidance from an unwavering leader...what, who they needed was Optimus. Distantly, Ratchet could hear the furious plasma fire from Bumblebee's cannon, from Bulkhead's, and could only hope they would survive the firefight against Megatron. And Arcee...Ratchet grimaced as his processor dreamt up a thousand unimaginable horrors that she could at this moment be enduring at the hands of her Decepticon captors. The only comfort he could lend himself was in her continued and uninterrupted life force signal. There was hope to be found in the knowledge that she had not been offlined, hope perhaps enough for thoughts of a rescue. If I don't require a rescue first, Ratchet growled darkly to himself as again doubts filled him, assailed him. The Autobots were physically scattered, divided, but what was all the worse was the schism he could feel forming amongst them. Ratchet could only wonder helplessly if the wounds Orion had inflicted against Bulkhead could be bridged, repaired enough for the green mech to ever trust Optimus as completely as he once did. Optimus...
"Ratchet!"
There was the feather light touch of a hand, a human hand against the arm that gripped the wound. June. She needed him right now, just as much as the others did, as Miko did. Miko.Foolish child had orchestrated all of this, if it hadn't been for her, they might have already secured Orion safely back at base. What had she been thinking? What had she been trying to do?
"Ratchet!"
He couldn't ignore the sharp edge of fear in her voice any longer, nor could he remain unaware of her proximity. His head snapped up, as his optics met her gaze, so full of fear, of worry, frustration, anger, confusion…"June, step back! You must not come into contact with any energon!" Though weak, there was still an air of authority, of command that laced the medic's tone as he addressed her. Tentatively he transformed his hand into his favored soldering torch and with light, gentle touches began to close up the edges of the gash, sealing up the flow of energon, mending the mesh that had been torn. "It's not as bad as it looks..." He at last answered, his voice carrying an unusual rasp as he sought to reassure her. Just a field patch, a cursory dressing for now would suffice, would haveto suffice. There would be time enough later—or so Ratchet hoped—for a full diagnostic, for more thorough repairs once they returned to base.
"Really? Because that looks slagging awful." Bulkhead's booming voice startled June as he and Bumblebee drew up from behind them. Relief sang though June's heart at the sight of them walking, all limbs intact, no gashes or evidence of twisted panels, no spark threatening injuries.
Immediately, Ratchet's optics sought out Bulkhead's as he paused in his work, "Megatron?"
Bulkhead shook his head as Bumblebee let out a plaintive whistle, "Gone. Just took off; I thought he was going to scrap us for sure...send us packing to Primus, but just when I thought we'd had it, he took off—"
Chirp, whistle, click, click, burr-wurp, click!
Animated, Bumblebee gestured with his arms, eliciting another nod of agreement from Bulkhead, "Exactly...it was as though he knew something else had happened, something bad..."
"Orion..." Ratchet wheezed. With the clatter of tormented panels, he struggled to rise, "It's Orion, nothing could have taken Megatron away unless it was Orion...we have to go. Now. Orion needs our help...he needs me..."
"East Doc Bot! You're not going anywhere," Bulkhead was quick to move forward, placing a hand on each of Ratchet's shoulders, holding him down, " We need to get you back to base, now!"
Ratchet couldn't help but grimace at the rough handling, and was sure to keep on hand pressed against the wound, the tender patch, fearful of tearing it afresh; he couldn't afford to lose more energon, weak as he was, he would need all of his strength for Orion, "No." He was firm, resolute, "We must find Orion, he's wounded…badly—"
"—So are you." Bulkhead rumbled.
"Bulkhead—" Impatient, Ratchet gestured to the gleaming blue liquid that lay quietly soaking in the concrete, so much lost…too much spilled today…too much… "Not all of that energon is mine. In fact, thanks to you, most of that is Orion's! He's hurt, and he'll need medical attention fast if he isn't to fall into stasis."
"How could you possibly know that, without examining the wound?" June asked, Bumblebee chirping in agreement along with her.
Ratchet shook his helm, "Its too much energon lost…and no doubt he's loosing more as we speak. If I don't get to him soon, his systems will lock, will force him into stasis to protect his spark and keep it from going offline." Grimly, the medic looked from face to face; he did not like the doubt, the resistance that Bulkhead was exhibiting, "Bumblebee—scout ahead, track Orion, it won't be hard because he will not have gone far, not with his injuries."
Bumblebee bobbed his head in assent, but emitted a low chorus of moans. Ratchet shook his head, "I'll be fine. Bulkhead and I will follow, once you find him we'll catch up."
Over the growl of Bumblebee's departing engine, Ratchet at last turned to June, who looked up at him with her soft and gentle eyes, liquid pools of sorrow. She knew, she understood what pulled at him, what strained his spark. He was no leader, no Optimus. "June, where we go now, I cannot guarantee your safety…it would be best for you to return to the base until we return with Orion." But I will not force you to go, will not argue if you wish to come with us, his gaze told her.
"I understand…" Carefully she walked up to Ratchet, placed a hand atop his, wrapping her human hand around one of his fingers which he closed softly around it as he in turn held her hand in the only way he could, "Take care of yourself, Ratchet…I'll return and make sure sick bay is ready with all that you might need…I'll see all of you back at base."
###
"My dear friend…" Starscream's wisp of a voice was lilting, and syrupy thick with concern, "My dear, dear Orion…what has befallen you?"
With mincing steps he slowly approached, and Miko, looking over her shoulder realized why. The dry earth that had been stirred upon Orion's fall still clogged the air, masked the full veracity of the scene. Clinging to Orion, refusing to let go, to leave him, her mind was caught up in a whirl, as she frantically grasped, trying to think of something, of anything of how she could use the precious seconds to their advantage before Starscream realized she was there.
But before she could come to any semblance of a decision, before she could move, a wall of blackness rose up around her, impenetrable and firm. Her world turned completely and irrevocably dark and she froze, her grip becoming vice-like on the thick coils and malleable lines of tubing that comprised Orion's throat. Fighting upon the threshold of panic, squinting in what was as complete as night, slowly it dawned upon Miko what she was looking at and what now surrounded her: Orion's hand.
Feigning further injury, Orion had been quick to lift his uninjured arm, grasping his own throat as if in pain, but in truth it was to wrap his digits ever so gently, though firmly, around Miko, completely concealing her from Starscream's view. It was a brilliant move, but doubt clawed at Miko as she could only wonder for how long he would be able to conceal her in such a fashion.
"Starscream…" Miko felt the rumble of Orion's voice, felt the vibrations all the way through to her very bones being pressed against his throat in such a fashion.
"Easy, my friendeasy…" though muffled, Starscream's voice sounded too close for Miko's comfort, "You've lost a great deal of energon and if you do not receive a transfusion quickly, I am afraid you will fall into an irreversible stasis…"
Through the haze of pain, Orion could not will his optics to focus with any clarity upon Starscream and thus, could not read the expression upon the Seeker's features as he moved closer. Leaning over the prone mech's form, Starscream draped the scalpel of his digits upon Orion's shoulder as he spoke softly into Orion's audio finial, "…but then again, I am no doctor…"
Ah, what power, what influence over of the course of so many lives he held within his grasp! Through Orion, with either his life or death, Starscream could change so many things, right so many wrongs…the possibilities whetted his appetite. Lazily, Starscream let his hand drift down, let it fall atop the thin panel that concealed Orion's spark, let the needle straight fold of his fingers find the edge of that plate. How easy it would be, just two strokes of movement, really. One to tear that single piece of metal away like tissue paper, the second to scoop out the spark like plucking an energon crystal. Tension filled him, Starscream's digits filed away a ribbon of steel from the edge of that panel. It would be so easy…
Megatron was never going to give him those troops, would never help him find his lost Seeker brethren…
How delicious would it be to crush that spark, the spark that had caused the death of so many Decepticons; to feel Optimus'—or whatever he called himself now—energon spill from his spark, flow over Starscream's hands. He would be forever remembered as the one who had finally, at great and long last, vanquished Optimus Prime!
As if from a great distance, Orion watched the sharply angular face that hovered above him, watched unmoving, unknowing of the dark thoughts that flew through the other's processor. And Starscream found his movements arrested by those blue optics, found himself pulled into the lull of that gaze. So much lay behind those optics…trials and tribulations, wisdom, pain, suffering, victories won and sacrifices made, so much there…
Slowly, Starscream's digits retracted to lay flat, unassuming against Orion's chassis, as certainty took hold of the Seeker. Megatron had been right…the grain of truth shivered along his circuits. Whoever he was, the mech that lay prone before him—his freshly spilled energon creating small pools in the dirt—the mech who looked back at him was not Optimus…was not Orion…was not Megatron's looked for Decepticon Prime…no the being that looked up at Starscream was something…someone…more.
It made the worn Seeker pause, made him wonder if maybe, just maybe those old stories were true and if the Prime was truly the servant of Primus, the bearer of Primus' will…voice of their creator…
There was a sigh of servos, Orion's optics flickered, grew dim as slowly his systems began to fail. Still clinging to consciousness, the great mech before him was beginning to lose control over his frame, and the hand that clutched at his throat, at what Starscream thought had been a life threatening injury, shifted, slipped down. In the wake of its movement, two bright, very human eyes looked back up at the Decepticon.
Fearless and stubborn to the last, Miko rose to her feet throwing her arms protectively before Orion as if to shield him, "Back off you Decepti-bum!"
Starscream scowled, "You!" His optics narrowed into angry slits as he hissed, "You obnoxious little vermin! Why is it always you!"
"Like I'm thrilled to see your tin-can face again."
With a growl of frustration, Starscream's hand darted forward, plucking her easily from her perch.
"Don't you touch me you waste of scrap metal! Put me down you tin can buzzard!"
"Do shut up!" Without a further thought of her, Starscream dumped her back on the ground before rounding on Orion again.
Before he joined the ranks of the Decepticons, before he dedicated his very spark to a lifetime of war, he had been a scientist, driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge, for understanding. So it was such curiosity drove him forward now. It was what urged him to once more kneel over Orion, to slither his skeletal fingers between the joints of the panels of his chest. Orion moaned, stirred, but was too weak to fight him, to push him away as Starscream—with a care if not gentility—pried the panels apart, laying bare Orion's spark. Mindful of the delicate knot work of wires, circuitry and servos, it did not take Starscream long to realize what was not there, what should have been there.
Stunned he looked up, met Orion's all too knowing gaze, saw nothing but sagacity within those optics. Sputtering, Starscream fumbled as he restored the panels, folding them down, shielding the other's spark from view once more, "It's impossible…impossible…" Prime or not, Orion should have had the Matrix, should have kept the light of that most precious crystal that was housed within it ablaze. Yes, the shell was there, the empty husk of metalwork that was the Matrix was there, but no illumination spilled forth, it was dark, dim, spent, lost. And yet, somehow…when Starscream looked into Orion's optics…a Prime looked back. Unwilling to believe, Starscream reached out, capturing the other's jaw rigidly as he demanded, his voice low, looming and deep, "What are you…who are you truly?"
The Matrix of Leadership had been extinguished, burnt out and sacrificed to defeat Unicron, without it Optimus had lost not just his memory, had lost the knowledge of who he was, but he should have lost all that had made him a Prime. Without the Matrix, there was no Prime and yet…and yet…Starscream was certain, beyond any whisper of doubts that a Prime lay before him…a servant of Primus…a bearer of Primus' will…
"My dear Megatron…" The note of a lament rang within Starscream's voice as he leaned back, looking down upon Orion's broken form, "My dear friend…how wrong you are…Orion will never be your Nemesis Prime…will never be your Decepticon Prime…Primus…" Starscream breathed the name almost reverently, loathe as he was to believe in the long lost, almost long forgotten deity: "Primus made him too well…forged Optimus too strong…"
It was why the Autobots would never stop fighting for Orion, would continue in every way they could to regain him. But without his memories…with the Matrix so depleted, extinguished, Optimus would never be what he once was, would never be that terrifying force to be reckoned with. Yes, the Autobots were sentimental fools, but they weren't stupid…they knew a lost cause when they saw it…so why continue to fight? To struggle so hard to bring Orion back…
A slow knowing smile of realization turned up the corners of Starscream's mouth, and he turned his gaze away from Orion, towards Miko instead. Ah…there it was, there was the truth of the matter. They wanted their Prime back not just because they were sentimental fools, but because they had to have the Key…The Key to Vector Sigma, a shiver of longing, of hunger for such an ancient and powerful artifact coursed through the Seeker, filled and swelled his spark.
Miko pointed at him, "You touch me or him again and I'll rip out your spark with my bare hands!"
"Oh, I'm quivering in fear…" He grabbed her then, firmly without risk of any injury worse than bruises of course, "You be nice to me and I…I won't squish you like the annoying pest that you are…Now, tell me what I want to know and you can stay here and keep Orion company as he turns from black to gunmetal grey…"
Before she could hurl a litany of insults up at the sharp face that was all angles and corners, a ray of black shot forward, locking onto Starscream's wrist. Shrieking, it was all Starscream could do before a fist slammed into the back of his neck with enough force so as to cause his back plates to squeal in a wail of metal yielding to metal. Held fast, Starscream found himself flung to the ground, pinned beneath Orion's gaze more than he was by his force of physical strength.
"You…will not harm her…" That voice was bereft of any velvet smoothness, was instead stripped bare and echoed with the vastness of space. It held reverberations of Megatron's intonation, Starscream realized. There was a reason these two were beholden to each other…why they called each other brother even in the depths of their deepest hatred for the another…
"No! No, I wouldn't! Old friend, dear friend!Orion listen to me! I…I wouldn't harm this human…an innocent child!"
"He's lying!" Miko shrieked as she kicked and struggled, trying in every way that she might to free herself, "Don't listen to him, Orion! He's not your friend, not even Megatron's friend! Scrap him! Tear this talking tin can apart—"
"No wait! Orion! You and I are friends…f-for eons now, can you not remember?" There was a hesitation within Orion's gaze, cracks that still yawned between memories, kept him from piecing everything together just yet. "Please…" Starscream saw that opening, the opportunity and dove for it, throwing caution to the wind, "Please dear friend…let me help you as you once helped me…"
Orion shuddered with the effort, with the energy expended to topple Starscream, he could feel the chasm of stasis widening, opening up just a step away, "Starscream…I cannot…do not remember what friendship we had…but your help…any help…I could not turn away…"
"How…fortunate," Starscream purred as he helped lower Orion back to the earth, "You must rest, my friend…I will summon a medic for you…"
"Ratchet…" Orion wheezed and Starscream was all rapt attention; he walked upon the edge of knife, one misstep now and all would be lost.
"Yes…of course Ratchet, who else would I—" Starscream shrieked as a black fist reached up, locked onto his chassis, pulled him close, "Summon a medic…but leave me…you must…must keep Miko safe…keep her from—" Megatron…the name danced, a spark beat from being uttered, "—harm…promise me Starscream…promise me that you will return her to Jasper, to her friends…return her unharmed…"
There it was again, that looming gaze, sagacious and deep—perhaps, just perhaps there was something within the Matrix after all—otherworldly it pulled at Starscream's spark eliciting something so very, very close to loyalty. So much so that he found himself breathing, "I promise..."
It frightened Starscream that even he did not know if he was lying or if he was telling the truth.
"Orion—!" Miko wailed, and caught up within the Decepticon's grasp, Starscream looked down at her; she was truly nothing more than a young, frightened girl who was upon the precipice of losing a friend…But his mind, a mind honed, made cruel by eons of war, of destruction and loss looked upon her and saw none of these things, saw only an opportunity. Again, he turned back toward Orion, and with exaggerated movements pretended to hold Miko close, to stroke her head as he purred, "Such a sweet creature! Don't you worry, Orion, I will certainly not harm her."
Frantically, Miko attempted to bat away his claw like hand, "Stoppit! Orion! Please!"
"Miko…" With a low velvet murmur, Orion let his head tip back against the earth as at long last stasis took over his battered frame and his optics faded, dimmed from blue into nothingness.
Waving his fingertips before Orion's optics, just to be sure that he was indeed unconsciousness, Starscream smirked, a malicious expression as he carelessly dumped Miko onto the ground; he had no fear that she could hurt him or that she would run away. She wouldn't leave her precious Orion. Instead he loomed over her, placed dagger sharp fingertips beside her tiny, fleshy body, "So tell me Miko…where is the Key of Vector Sigma?"
Defiant she crossed her arms against her chest, "No way, not happening. I'm not telling you anything you piece of scrap!"
"Oh…I think you will." Starscream shifted away from her, moving to Orion's side. This time there was no hesitation as he ruthlessly pushed away the panels that protected Orion's spark.
Miko's eyes widened in horror, "NO! Don't you touch him!" She shrieked as she ran towards Orion.
Casually, easily, Starscream paused in his work just long enough to flick her away, his fingertips bruising and cruel against her small ribs as the blow sent her tumbling backward. Ignoring her entirely—for he had never expected her to just give him the location of the Key of Vector Sigma—he returned to the task at hand. Eagerly, his hands dove into the great frame before him, latching on to not the spark, but rather what lay ensconced just above it.
The Matrix of Leadership.
With a few grunts, twists and less than kind pulls, he was able to wrench it free, holding it high, aloft in the cooling air, a victory, a trophy. A laugh rolled forth from him, echoing and rattling in his chassis, clattering like bones as it swelled in volume, in viciousness. "It is mine…" Starscream drew it towards him, cradled the Matrix as if unbelieving. Already his processor thrummed with the possibilities.
"No…oh no no no…"Miko breathed, her mind frantically spinning for a way to stop him, to do something, anything… "You know that's useless without the Key!" She hollered up at him. But what she had intended to discourage the Decepticon, only elicited another blooming smirk.
"Oh, how little you know, how little you understand, you foolish creature. Now that I posses the Matrix of Leadership—" Lazily, his arm stretched forward, hand snapping around Miko, ensnaring her, "—and a hostage, I'm sure the Autobots will be most eager to hand over the Key." With the Matrix secure, Starscream transformed, the movements swift and brutal as he tossed her into his cockpit. With her shouts and curses ringing in his audio receptors, Starscream casually contacted Megatron. Sending him first the coordinates of Orion's location, the rest of his transmission was brief, terse: I have found something that is of great interest to you. Come and see.
Then, without a backward glance, Starscream took to the skies, keen on putting as much distance between himself and the broken form of Orion.
###
A/N: Our apologies for such a long break! Hope it was worth the wait!
Please R & R!
~~~ Epsilon Pax & Bumbee