Torenia Pax
"Bastards." The whisper was heard by at least four of those around her, but only Roller acknowledged the comment, looking into her optics with his own despondent ones, shuffling toward her and reaching out to grip and gently squeeze her hand. The two royals smiled sadly at one another before turning back to the descending House Honorum shuttle.
"It was a Primal request." Arlon Pax, standing on the other side of Torenia, replied defensively. "One does not refuse a Primal request, at least not without inviting scrutiny, which is something we all agree we would like to avoid."
"I still have no idea of what the issue is." Roller whispered, looking around at the other seven members of House Pax standing away from them to make sure they couldn't hear what he was saying to Torenia and Arlon. They seemed not to notice or care about the discussion going on with the three, nor did the dozens of other denizens of Tyger Pax, nearly the entire Constabulary of Polarus, and several citizens of the city, all who were now standing near the Tyger Pax shuttle port. "So what if he wasn't born in Burthov? Who cares? What could they possibly find out about him if they were to dig? It's not like he was born in Iacon; A-Three would have been able to pinpoint the hotspot of origin in a second if he were."
"Drop it child." Torenia whispered. "I found him outside of Burthov, do not ever suggest otherwise."
"Torenia, we must know the truth." Arlon whispered. "For his sake, we must know what we are dealing with so that we can know how best to protect him."
"They can't make any sort of claim to him if he wasn't born in Nova Cronum, and we know that he wasn't." Roller refused to let the line of questioning drop. "I know for a fact that A-Three ruled out every single hotspot in the emirate…as well as ours…and I think the hotspots of pretty much all other emirates as well." Roller looked up at Torenia. "So, yeah, big mystery, but he's safe from the Honorums."
"No, he's not." Torenia whispered before letting her head hang. "In time I will tell him, and only him. Until then, I will say no more on the subject."
A-Three
He watched the young robot peering out from the Spear of Paxus, the tallest tower at Tyger Pax, at the crowd that had gathered to see him off, and the shuttle that had been sent to take him away. "There are so many." The youth commented.
"Of course there are." A-Three replied, still amazed at the boy's surprising, and completely genuine humility. How could he not know that he'd touched their lives and would be greatly missed? "You are one of them."
"A Polariun?" Orion smiled without knowing it, warmed at being welcomed into a community he had grown to love.
"Yes," A-Three replied as he walked forward and took his place next to Orion, staring out at the landing platform, "and a Pax."
Orion was silent for several moments. "I love them, and I know they love me. I know that I am welcome here, and always will be, but I am not a Pax." The red and blue robot turned and peered intently at A-Three. "I ask you to please stop suggesting otherwise."
"As you wish." A-Three sadly replied.
Orion looked back toward the shuttle. "Everyone down there sees this as a simple good-bye, and that I'll be back in a few years; everyone except Arlon, Torenia and Roller. They're scared, you're scared, and it's making me scared. Why the fear? Why is the idea that I'll be in the stewardship of the Honorums so terrifying to you all? Even if I had come into existence in the heart of Iacon, why would they want me?"
"Because you're unique." A-Three replied as he too gazed out the large window.
"No, I'm rare." Orion replied. "I've seen my medical scans. I'm one in a thousand."
A-Three chuckled. "You're far rarer than that, even were we only talking about your green spark. Point one percenter is a terribly inaccurate term, coined by people looking for a term that was easy to say and remember for a phenomena that was in actuality far more unlikely than they realized. But there are other point one percenters, that is true. What makes you unique is the composition of your frame. You consist of metals that theoretically should be too dense, too…unaccommodating to life, yet here you are. I believe the power of your green spark is what forced these materials to alter themselves to accommodate your life, and it has made you..." A-Three turned and looked at Orion, "well, far more durable than you should be."
"That explains a lot." Orion replied.
"Though frankly, even if it were just your green spark that would be more than enough for the Honorums to want to latch onto you, so please, do what you can to avoid scrutiny." A-Three requested.
Orion stared quietly out the window thinking about what was just revealed to him for several moments. "My frame; do you know where on Cybertron the materials that could have gone into making it came from?" He asked.
A-Three peered deeply into the youth's optics and lied. "No. I have no idea." Lying had started to come easy for A-Three millions of years ago; he knew it would never come easy to Orion, so for now, ignorance was better.
Orion looked down sadly. "Alright. I guess only Torenia knows, and I promised her I'd never ask her again."
"In time I'm sure she'll tell you, but yes, until then, pretend to know nothing." A-Three gently tapped the youth on his shoulder, and indication that it was time to go.
"Not much pretending required."
*
Arlon Pax
They all kept their composure as Orion walked out from Tyger Pax and headed toward them, at least until Torenia's composure broke and she charged out to embrace her…child? Yes, Arlon had observed mammalian species with their offspring more times than he could count throughout his long life, and there was no other way to characterize what Orion was to Torenia. He was her child, and now she was watching him being taken away, and Arlon was unable to stop it from happening, and he realized that consciously or unconsciously, she would resent him for it. And he would resent himself for it as well.
The two hugged for over a minute before they released each other, Orion wrapping his powerful arm around her shoulder and walking her back toward Arlon and Roller, the youth smiling and saying pleasantries to those they passed; nobility and commoners alike had come to love and honor him. The pair finally made it to the members of House Pax, and Orion exchanged laughter and hugs with all of them. None of them knew of the potential danger of losing him to the Honorums. Even he and Roller truly didn't know, they only saw the fear in Torenia, and realized that there was something about Orion's origins that would allow the ruling house of Nova Cronum to make some sort of claim to him. What that was, they could only guess; A-Three had assured them that Orion's frame had not come from any known hotspot in Nova Cronum, but still, there was something that Torenia was afraid of, and that fear was specific to the Honorums.
Orion walked over, grinning widely at Roller. "Who's going to keep you out of trouble with me gone?"
Roller punched him in the shoulder. "Nobody, which means you'll need to come back often to bail me out. Of course, if that plan actually ends up working I think that old goat Ironhide may start arresting me without cause just to get you back in the precinct house. He won't be able to function without you doing all the heavy lifting anymore."
"Ironhide will be just fine without me getting in his way." Orion smiled, then hugged his best friend. "I'm going to miss you."
"Me too, brother." Roller replied as he squeezed hard before releasing him. "You know that's what you are, right? Slag tradition, slag protocol; I couldn't give two shits about what pool you crawled out from, frankly I'd rather not know, because in my mind, you may have well crawled out right next to me."
Arlon remained stoic. Technically he should admonish Roller for the statement; he was a noble, a royal, and such a belief was taboo in their culture. But their culture be damned, Arlon's internal mechanisms twisted at the idea that he counter what Roller said in any way. Orion was theirs, he belonged with them; he was one of them. By Primus, he was one of them.
"Let's not get all sappy, you high-born dandy." Orion chuckled.
Roller laughed despite his sadness. "Piss off you common mule. I hope Prowl puts you through the ringer. If anything, you'll be back all too soon."
"True, I'm just scared of the damage you'll do while I'm gone though." Orion answered, giving Roller a slap on the shoulder before moving on to Arlon and bowing his head. "Lord Pax, please know how grateful I am for all that you've done for me. I doubt I'd have survived were it not for the grace and kindness of your family. All that I am is what you have taught me, what's honorable, what's just, what's right; these are things that I will take with me everywhere I go and try to leave a lasting imprint of."
"Raise your head." Arlon instructed the youth, who did as he was told. His composure would not fail. "The Honorums will treat you well, there is great honor in serving their house, even temporarily."
"Yes my lord." Orion replied humbly. "I will respect and abide by all the Honorums bid of me, but know that all I do will be to honor House Pax."
"You wish to honor House Pax?" Arlon questioned. "Then treat the lowliest of citizens with the same respect you would me."
Orion smiled broadly, his blue optics shining brightly. "That is why I will honor House Pax…always. Your ideals are my ideals, and I am so proud to have them. My every action will be to devoted to making Cybertron better for all, you have my word."
Arlon's composure faltered, his voice cracking ever so slightly. "It is House Pax that is grateful and honored to have had you with us these past few months. We will be incomplete with you away. We will be made less by your absence. You may have started as a student of our values and ideals, but it is you that we have looked to and will continue to look to as an embodiment of those values and ideals. Take what you've learned, and know that those back home will always be proud of you." Arlon smiled as he watched the youth nod and turn toward the transport, and decided that later that day he would call upon A-Three to help him make some legal arrangements regarding Orion. It would have to be approved by the house, but he knew full well that wouldn't be an issue. It was a major decision, but he knew to the very core of his spark it was the right thing to do. "And Orion, this will always be your home."
Orion turned his head back and smiled widely at the bestial robot. "Thank you my lord." The youth turned once more to Torenia and smiled. "My lady."
"Oh, don't call me that!" Torenia mockingly scolded and she shot forward and embraced Orion again. "I wish you didn't have to go."
"I will be back." Orion replied. "We do live a long time you know, vorns from now you won't even remember me being gone."
"Long lives make us foolish." Torenia replied, her face pressed against Orion's chest. "I see the organics, the mortal creatures, cherishing every moment with one another, recognizing how precious their loved ones are and that their time with them is so very limited. Immortals take these things for granted, thinking there will always be more time with those we love. I pray for more time, but I will never take the time I have with you for granted. You have added so much to my life, you are my son, and you will always be my son. Now be safe, and come back to me whole and filled with life experiences."
"Of course…mother." Orion said, then forced himself away and headed into the shuttle.
Militus Macht
"My lord, Megatron is here." The small gray servant announced to the Emir of Polyhex as he was seated on his throne.
It had been the throne Jugatus Macht had ruled from, controlling Polyhex from it with absolute authority until the threat of Galvatron had forced him to accept the conqueror into his house to appease him and direct his ambitious aggression outward toward other emirates, and then parted with even more power later as Galvatron was stalemated and all emirates were forced into ceding much of their authority to a newly formed central government ruled by the Senate and the Prime. It wasn't until two million years after these events that Militus had been born to House Macht, and then two million years more before he had arranged for the untimely demise of Jugatus in an accident and taken his place as emir. An all but toothless emir that had to either have senate approval for his actions, or act in secrecy, a fact that infuriated him. "Send him in."
Militus rose from the throne, descended the stairs to the floor and approached the large, ornate metal door that the gladiator would be escorted through. A moment later the chrome warrior pushed the door open and walked in, smiling and ever so slightly bowing his head as he caught site of the Emir. "Lord Macht."
"Welcome Megatron." Militus passed by a table, reaching over and grabbing a goblet of engex as he made his way forward, but failing to grab a second goblet for his guest. "You're ready for the pits. Hell, you're way beyond ready, but Terminus convinced me to hold off on having you fight until it was certain that you'd obliterate everything in your path." Militus turned abruptly before reaching Megatron, took a swig of engex without breaking his stride and continued toward a side hallway. Megatron followed after him. "You'll always have your work cut out for you with Grimlock, and a few others may pose a challenge for you, but barring that handful, you're ready even by Terminus's worrisomely high standards. He has served my house well for longer than I can remember, and to that limited recollection his requests concerning your preparation have been his only requests, so I gave him that." They continued down the hallway, passing trophy cases, statues of prominent members of House Macht and other decorative artifacts. "And ultimately I'm glad we waited. True, a few have found out about you and your potential, but for the most part your existence remains unknown. And now you've been honed to perfection. You'll come out of nowhere, the mysterious new champion of House Macht, and be a destructive force of nature, bringing glory and riches to us, and to yourself as well."
"I appreciate the opportunity Lord Macht." Megatron replied with a grin, taking in every detail of the hallway and what he could see of the rooms that they passed. "I also appreciate you making your library available to me. The opportunity to educate myself is nearly as valuable as the opportunity to attain wealth and glory."
"Fine, fine, I want you to be smart." Militus replied. "I demand that my champion be an excellent representative of the House. Some of the fighters out there are complete morons, and that reflects poorly on those they represent. But no matter how smart you become, always remember your place."
"I will always present myself favorably, and those I represent will look all the better for their connection to me." Megatron replied, admiring the decorations and appreciating the historical significance of many of the items on display. "And I will always remember where it is that I come from." An undertone of venom, one too faint for Militus to detect, was present in Megatron's voice.
"That is good to hear." Militus said as they approached a heavily fortified metal door. "It is with that in mind that I would like to show you my House's most sacred artifact." A series of red lights shot out from the wall and scanned the two robots. The lights encasing Militus faded to green and then vanished, but the ones on Megatron remained red, and two large ion canons emerged from the walls. "Militus Macht allowing entrance to Megatron of Tarn."
An automated voice emerged from the wall. "Spark match to scan on record for Megatron of Tarn. Entrance approved."
The large door rolled open, revealing a vast room with even more ornate pieces of art and other artifacts displayed prominently about. The two entered, and while Megatron would normally be very interested in any item in the room, he was immediately drawn toward the encased object in the center of the room. Past the statues, past the scrolls and metal carvings, Megatron and Militus passed them all, not stopping until they were looking upon a large black fusion canon under thick transparent metal casing. "The canon of Machtus. As pristine and flawless today as it was fifteen million years ago when it was presented to the founder of my house. Legend has it that during the sparkeater plague, prior to the Knights of Cybertron joining forces, Machtus rallied Kaon and later all of Polyhex, forming not only an army but organizing all of the scientists, smiths and other tradesmen into creating weapons for this army. In addition to creating arms for the rank and file, the greatest minds of this group set about forming a weapon worthy of Machtus himself. It is said he was very large, very powerful, possessing a green spark, and with this in mind they made a weapon only he could wield. A canon with a nuclear generator housed within, capable of generating a fusion blast that could raze cities and decimate armies. It was with this that he punched through the legions of sparkeaters, rallying with the other Knights, and then leading the charge to push the demons north, up to the polar wastelands and then deep into the bowels of the planet, sealing them within. This was the greatest weapon ever forged, and it is the only known artifact from that war to survive the ages, apart from the Tartarun Gates themselves that is." Militus described the weapon with obvious pride and awe, and for once Megatron did not need to pretend to be as impressed with something as Militus was. "Perhaps the greatest achievement of my house is the care we've taken with preserving its perfection. No erosion, no decay, no wear of any kind. Galvatron wanted to use it for himself; fortunately Jugatus was able to appease him with a recreation that reportedly matched the original in power and durability."
"So it can be recreated?" Megatron asked, studying the weapon with obvious envy.
"Well, the recreation was not exact. Though while it was not the same, the destructive capabilities were close enough so that Galvatron was more than pleased with what he got." Militus explained. "But according to legend, the original remained unequalled in the eyes of all who witnessed both." Militus chuckled. "Of course, this many years later I would be more than happy to have Galvatron's weapon recovered and to give it an honored place here next to Mactus's." Megatron continued staring at the canon as Militus walked next to him. "Look upon this object of perfection, and know that you, like it, are a representation of House Macht's power, greatness and glory. Much is expected of you now Megatron."
"I will be worthy." Megatron replied, his optics still glued to the canon.
Sentinel Prime
Prowl never shut up. True, he was beyond valuable to Sentinel, always had been, he was perhaps the most valuable asset House Honorum had…well, no, let's not go that far. The wealth, influence, holdings, energon deposits, and various other things were far more valuable than Prowl, but as far as commoners go, he was by far the most useful. Hell, he wasn't even a commoner anymore, he was a vassal. Sentinel had given him his own title and holdings, though he kept his low nobility to himself, apparently afraid he'd be treated differently by his underlings. Of course he'd be treated differently by them, he'd be treated better by them. But the grunt wanted to remain being seen as a grunt. Fine, his choice.
But however he wanted himself viewed in terms of his social standing, there was no hiding the fact that he was an analytical nightmare to anyone within audio reception range. Yes, some of the details he constantly spewed were very useful, but most of the time it just gave Sentinel a headache. "I understand Prowl, please see to the details, delegate accordingly, whatever, you're more than capable of dealing with the Guiding Hand followers' pilgrimage."
"Understood sir." Prowl replied, standing in front of the large window that Prime was looking out of at the view of Iacon. Cybertropolis was the capital, and where the Prime was supposed to be located most of the time, but Iacon was not only Sentinel's home, but the most influential city on the planet. "Next, I'd like to discuss…"
"How's the new kid working out?" Sentinel Prime interrupted.
"New kid?" Prowl asked, thrown for a moment by the interruption and new topic. "Oh, Orion. Quite well actually. These last two weeks have proven very beneficial for both him and us, and despite his age we've entered him in the Academy, remote training of course so that we can have him patrolling here in Iacon."
"Good, I want him on the streets." Prime replied, staring past Prowl out over his city. "Your friend Ironhide has done a fine job teaching him the basics, and we can use him here."
"Well, he's not really my frie…"
"Plus I think we need to keep a closer eye on him." Sentinel Prime added.
"Why is that, sir?" Prowl asked, but at seeing Prime's optics shift from an appraising look at the city to a stern glare into his own optics, he realized what his leader was referring to. "Yes, I am aware that he has been visiting the Autobot prisoners."
"And this doesn't concern you?" Prime asked.
"It's…well, yes, I suppose it's a little troubling." Prowl replied hesitantly. "But it's not in violation of any law or rule, and he's followed every protocol for visiting prisoners, so I don't see what action I can take."
"None." Sentinel Prime replied, shifting his gaze back out the window. "At least none right now. But keep your optics on him. I brought him here because he shows great potential, but the last thing I need is someone rocking the boat. Especially some commoner raised and educated as a royal. His very existence alone might blur lines that aren't meant to be blurred, and Autobots putting ideas in his head will only make that worse."
"Of course sir, I'll keep you abreast of all he does and who he sees." Prowl replied. "I'll wait for your instruction on whether some sort of intervention is needed."
"Good." Prime answered, his disinterest growing. "Is there anything else?"
"Yes Prime." Prowl came back. "I have received word that Nightbeat is currently off-world. I know he is on a personal assignment for you, so I won't ask for details regarding what he is doing, but I would like to know when I can expect to have him back at my disposal."
"When he's done." Prime replied. "I do wish I could give you a more firm timeline than that, but unfortunately I truly don't know how long this will take him. Honestly, it probably will take him a great deal of time; I wish that wasn't the case, but you really should plan on not having him around for the foreseeable future."
"I…I understand." Prowl replied, not altogether satisfied with the answer, but knowing that was the best he was going to get.
"Now, unless the next thing on your list involves Iacon burning, I'd like to table it for later and be alone for a while." Sentinel stated as he rose from his chair and walked past Prowl to peer out the window more directly.
"Of course sir." Prowl replied. "Contact me if you need anything."
Sentinel continued staring out the window until he heard the door shut behind Prowl. "Computer, prepare table for holographic projection of a memory."
"Source of memory?" The automated voice asked.
"Brain module of Sentinel Prime." Prime replied as he turned away from the window, walked to the table in the center of the room, and sat down.
"There exist inherent dangers with directly interfacing a brain module." The voice explained.
"Noted…for the millionth time. Proceed none the less." Prime replied, plugging a cord from the table into his neck.
"Acknowledged." The voice replied. "Enable accessibility of memory and direct." Sentinel nodded as he mentally made the adjustments and led the invasive programming toward what he wished to see brought to life. "Memory found, recreation commencing."
Lights burst forth from the tabletop, and they began forming images, primarily the image of a large predominantly orange and maroon robot with a silver face smiling back at whoever was looking at it. "So you want to know how I knew I would be the greatest of Primes, huh?"
"Yes sir." Sentinel's disembodied voice shot back enthusiastically, a voice that seemed younger, less cynical and less arrogant.
The robot's smile broadened. "Look kid, you can call me Guardian…wait, scratch that. We're brothers, born of House Honorum, the greatest of all of Cybertron's houses, and you and I, well, let's face it, we were born to be the greatest of the Honorums. Call me Gallus, and know that you're the only one to call me Gallus."
"Of course si…Gallus!" Sentinel's younger voice replied with glee. "Thank you."
"So, let's see, oh yes," the image of Guardian Prime continued, "I had made quite a name for myself, fought in and won many battles, which was unique in that nobody else could do squat against Galvatron's forces. But I fought, and I won, and I kept winning. And I talked. I made speeches, I rallied the nobles, I rallied the commoners, I rallied everyone. They all were quick to join my cause, to follow me into battle, and I ran across some general from Uraya, and, well, OK, I may have misspoken when I said I was the only one to have any success against Galvatron, because I guess this guy had won a battle or two as well. But nowhere near the success I had had."
"Who was he?" The young Sentinel asked.
"Not really sure. He gave me a commoner name, though for some reason he struck me as noble." Guardian Prime answered, his face taking a look of deep reflection. "It was so long ago, but I even thought he may have been from House Trion. Not sure, probably because he said he was originally from the Crystal City. Anyway, soon into combining our efforts he took me into private and told me I was destined for greatness, that I was the one that he had been waiting for, that I was the Prime who was Promised. I had no idea of what he was talking about, so he recited this prophesy, one given by some aliens that had visited intelligent creatures on this planet that predated us. Anyway, he said the prophesy was about me."
"What was the prophesy?" The younger voice asked excitedly.
Guardian Prime grinned widely before answering. "And you, Iacon in the land of Nova Cronum, are by no means the least among the rulers of Cybertron; for from a region within your borders, a land of great life but barren of sparks, will come a Prime who will shepherd the peoples of Cybertron, and be the salvation for the peoples of many worlds. He shall be a hunter of peace, but an astounding warrior, who will ensure the right to freedom for all."
There was a pause as the young Sentinel took this in. "It's you…except the Honorus Pool is not barren."
"It was at the time of this prophesy." Guardian Prime noted.
"Oh," Sentinel's young voice replied, "then yes, it's you." The images flickered and disappeared as Sentinel Prime withdrew the jack from his neck. "No," he said as he stood, a broad smile etched on his face, "it's me."
Blaster
The first couple times the cadet visited him Blaster was sure it was some sort of set-up, some scheme to get him to divulge information on the other Autobots. By the third time this Orion came with his questions Blaster was starting to wonder if the young robot could be genuine. Now he was nearly convinced; no, he wouldn't be giving the cop-wannabe any details about his organization or its members, but Orion had yet to ask anything along those lines. "Back again, huh kid?"
"Yes." Orion said as he came to a stop in front of the bars humming with electricity. "If this is in any way an inco…"
"Inconvenient I'll be happy to go." Blaster replied with these words from Orion when he said it the last time that he visited. "Relax kid, I'm kinda warmin' up to you." Blaster looked the youth over. "You look a little worn."
"Just finished four hours of combat training with Delta and Ultra Magnus." Orion explained. "They know their stuff, and they're pretty damn strong."
"I should hope so, they're layered in armored enhancements." Blaster replied. "I actually don't mind House Magnus all that much, they're just a bit too rigid with the law and order stuff. Everything has to be by the book with them."
"I think that would be a good thing." Orion said as he leaned against the wall behind him. "But I forgot, you're fighting the system."
"No, the system is fighting us." Blaster corrected. "We started out with peaceful protests, distribution of fliers, manifestos, broadcasts and so on, all law-abiding, orderly and by the book. It's the powers that be that came at us and started the fighting. Even now, the most extensive damage we do involves elaborate pranks."
"You assaulted the Prime and his entourage." Orion replied.
"You call that an assault?" Blaster grinned.
"Yes I do." Orion replied. "So will the courts."
"You call it assault, the courts will call it attempted murder, or Primicide, or whatever." Blaster responded.
"No they won't." Orion countered.
Blaster laughed. "You really have spent your entire life in the Torus Heights, haven't you?"
"Aside from these last couple of weeks, yes." Orion answered. "What does that have to do with this?"
"It has everything to do with this." Blaster explained. "Look kid, if there were thirteen Arlon Pax's ruling the thirteen emirates of Cybertron, we Autobots wouldn't exist. Commoners have rights in the Torus Heights, they are entitled to an education, they are entitled to safety and security; for crying out loud, the words of House Pax aren't about their honor or greatness, it's 'Freedom is the Right of All Sentient Beings'. But that philosophy ends at the Heights' borders." The captive peered intently at the young robot. "You've been here a couple weeks, surely you've seen enough to know things are done a bit differently here in Iacon."
Orion nodded and looked down. "Yes, I've seen things that I…do not agree with." He then looked back up at the prisoner. "But change can occur within the confines of the law."
"Ha!" Blaster laughed. "The laws, while a long way from being just, would be sufficient for me were it not for one simple fact; they don't apply to lords and ladies."
"The constitution and laws apply to every citizen of Cybertron." Orion replied, though he had seen enough to know how childish that sounded.
"You really are a kid." Blaster smiled at him. "I like you. Unfortunately I'll probably not like you once you've reached the point where reality and self-preservation overwrite your sense of idealism."
"I was raised by House Pax." Orion replied. "I will undoubtedly lose my naiveté, but I will always fight for true justice."
"Well Orion of House Pax," Blaster replied with a sad but light-hearted chuckle, "I genuinely hope you never change."
Ogrus Onyx
"Single combat has been played out." Ogrus announced to the hulking gray and yellow robot standing by the door of the large room surrounded by guards. "Oh, there will always be single combat, and it will always be popular and most likely the heart of the games, but it's time to branch out." The Emir of Nyon rose from his chair, walking across the floor but maintaining a very safe distance from the heavily shackled robot. "I may despise the inclusion of Ankmor into our fighting circuit, but they've breathed new life into the events, adding themes to the battles, including team fights and full scale battle reenactments."
"I fight alone." The unwilling guest growled.
"You fight in whatever manner I want you to fight!" Ogrus snarled, stomping toward the subdued warrior but stopping well out of the range of any sort of danger. "The only reason you're still alive is because you fight, and win, for me! Never forget that!"
"The only reason you're still alive is because you enable me to fight, and win, for me!" The warrior grumbled. "Otherwise I'd have found a way out of these shackles and eaten your spark years ago."
"Such insubordination will lead to your smelting, Grimlock!" Ogrus snarled.
"Do your worst!" Grimlock roared, lunging forward, causing Ogrus to jerk away and fall to the floor. The six hulking guards all set upon him, but he merely laughed at their efforts to subdue or punish him. He wanted to humiliate the head of House Onyx, and upon succeeding he just stared and laughed, shrugging off the beating. He swatted away a couple of the guards and addressed Ogrus one more time. "Hun-Grr and his training partners already fight very well together, use them for your battles."
"I will." Ogrus grumbled as he rose back to his feet. "But I want you as well. Starscream Nexus…"
"HA!" The thunderous sound of Grimlock's genuine laugh shook some of the decorations in the room. "There's no way that ego-maniacal glory-whore is fighting with a team!"
Ogrus snorted. "You're right, but he has put one together, and they've wiped out every team they've faced, including one I put together. And to add insult to injury, he's modified their shells into bestial forms."
"Who's on this team?" Grimlock chuckled.
"Razorclaw, Divebomb,"
"Rampage, Tantrum and Headstrong." Grimlock finished the list. "Razorclaw's tribe."
"You know of his tribal affiliation?" Ogrus asked, genuinely surprised.
"Some fighters fight better in the proximity of specific individuals." Grimlock explained. "Hun-Grr's team is drawn to one another, as is Razorclaw's team."
"So we'll need to get you a tribe." Ogrus suggested. "If it makes you fight better…"
"No, this isn't common. In fact, it's so rare almost nobody knows about it. Those it affects rarely if ever notice it. I've just been around enough to have seen it. Some people are just inexplicably drawn to other people, they typically share common interests, so maybe it's not all that inexplicable, but there's more to it than just common interests, and it makes them…better." Grimlock looked down as he explained, but then turned to peer directly at Ogrus. "But as I said, it's beyond rare, and it definitely doesn't apply to me."
Ogrus shrugged. "Interesting, but ultimately it doesn't matter whether it applied to you or not. You will fight on a team, one that I've already selected for you." The Emir walked back to his thrown and sat down. "Though this should be seen as good news by you. While you may not share a spark-based romantic pull toward them,"
Grimlock chuckled. "I'd be happy to refer to Razorclaw, Hun-Grr and their crews as needy, emotional, candy-ass romantics, but the fact is that the pull has nothing to do with the attraction I have for certain femmes, or that you have for turbo-foxes."
"Silence!" Ogrus stood up and roared, enraged at the insult but recognizing that he couldn't, or rather wouldn't, act on it. "You will report to the pit and begin training with your team! I have selected Swoop,"
"Scrawny beanpole."
"Snarl,"
"Whiney bitch."
"Sludge,"
"Moron. Wait, no,"
"and Sl…"
"No!"
"ag."
"Shit!"
Orion
It was a slow night in central Iacon, though a slow night here was at least fifty times busier and more dangerous than the busiest of nights in Polarus. Orion drove through the street, maneuvering like a street racer half his size. While the bustle and sheer number of people seemed daunting his first couple of days, he had quickly grown accustomed to it and was now more proficient at getting around than most natives. The people were ruder, more impatient, and far more self-involved than the people of Polarus, but Orion was growing to like them for the most part. Of course, there were always exceptions, and the sight of six large robots dragging two smaller robots out of a pub and into the street was a good reminder of that. Orion sped ahead, weaving between other Cybertronians in vehicle mode and the occasional ground shuttle until he reached the skirmish and transformed. "Enough!"
"Piss off, this is none of your business!" One of the large, well-polished aggressors barked out at him.
"Iacon Constabulary!" Orion barked back. "Release those citizens and stand down!"
The apparent leader of the group chuckled and walked toward Orion, but turned his head back to address his friends. "Keep these two warm for me, I'll be right back." He continued toward the red and blue robot, stopping in front of him. He was large, the same height and bulk as Orion, but less tapered in the waist. "Funny, I know all the cops in Iacon, but I don't recognize you."
Orion glared at him. "I am Orion of Polarus, and I suggest you instruct your friends to release those two or things are going to turn very ugly for you very fast."
The other robot displayed a grin. "Ah, you're new, I get it. No harm done, you just don't know."
"I must not." Orion replied. "What I do know is that if those two are not released in five seconds, I will be taking you and all your friends down and have you arrested."
"Whoah, settle down hero." The arrogant robot replied angrily. "Shut up and listen before you get yourself in trouble. My name is Lucox Honorum." The arrogant royal stared intently at Orion, fully expecting a look of shock and submission to come over the constable's face. When none came a surprised Lucox continued. "You have heard of House Honorum where you're from, haven't you?"
"Of course. I'm here at the behest of Sentinel Prime." Orion replied. "And that has no bearing on the fact that you and your friends will either release those individuals, or I will make you release those individuals."
"Excuse me?" Lucox said disbelievingly. "Are you slaggin' kidding me? You need to go back to the precinct house and have someone explain how things work here."
"I have a complete understanding of the legal code, I am well aware of how things work here, and you and your friends are now under arrest." Orion replied. "Turn and submit to apprehension or I will have to apprehend you forcibly."
"Slag you, you foreign low-born piece of shit!" Lucox roared as he took a swing at Orion's head. Orion caught the flying fist in his hand, gave a crooked grin before head-butting the Honorum in the face, sending him to the ground.
The five other members of Lucox's group immediately released the two they were holding and charged Orion. "I am an officer of the law," Orion warned as he easily dodge the first attack, and parried away the second, "you will be charged with assaulting a peace officer unless you stand down right now!"
The two that had already attacked Orion and been pushed away regained their balance and stood on either side of the officer while the other two helped Lucox up. "Bitch, you have no idea of what you just did." Lucox growled. "I've been trained in hand to hand combat by Sentinel Prime himself, I'm fitted with the best light weight armor and have had high end press-enhancements added in as well." He gave Orion an arrogant grin. "And my friends are pretty damn enhanced too. While you, hell, you look pretty raw. Some tires and motors slapped on a birthday suit."
"It's good you've all been upgraded." Orion allowed himself a little bravado. "I won't have to hold back…well, not as much as I would have."
Lucox chuckled. "Kick his ass boys."
For the next four minutes they charged and attacked the lone constable, the five of them swarming on Orion. After the four minutes, they were all on the ground, battered, several broken limbs, a lot of leaking fluids, and more than a little bit of whimpering, and above them all stood Orion. "You are all under arrest."
Lucox Honorum turned his battered and dented face up to glare at Orion. "Your life, is over."
Exponum One
They had taken common transportation, a royal shuttle had no place anywhere in Polyhex, unless of course it was a Macht shuttle, and even then one needed to be careful in Rodion. But Exponum had made this journey many times before, and felt very comfortable with the trip. Well, perhaps not this time. He looked over to his family member Elita Solus, and worried for her safety. She was beyond proficient in hand to hand combat, but in this environment the numbers would be against them should things go badly, and even the best fighters couldn't do much against multiple opponents. Fortunately he saw his friend waving to them from in front of the transport he had had for several vorns, a large, gray, boring but reliable cargo-hauler with an equally boring cab. Exponum smiled at his old friend. "Ratchet, it's so good to see you again."
"Hello Exponum, great to see you too." Ratchet said as they shook wrists, turning to look at the femme next to the Emir of Axiom. "And this must be Lady Elita of House Solus. How are you my lady?"
"Please, just Elita." Elita replied smiling at the old doctor. "Exponum has told me so much about you."
"I don't mean to rush," Exponum interrupted, "but I'd like to load the supplies and get to the safety of your clinic."
"Of course." Ratchet replied. Rodion had been his home for several vorns, but he knew how treacherous it could be. "Why don't the two of you get in the cab and I'll load the supplies."
"No, we're more than capable…"
"Thank you Ratchet, that's a great idea." Exponum interrupted Elita and led her to the transport. Once inside the cab he continued. "It's not about labor, my child, it's about safety."
"Why, because I'm a femme?" Elita snapped. "I can mop the floor with any one of these guys."
"Yes, and you may do alright against two, perhaps even hold your own against three, but they'll swarm you if they sense there's even the most meager thing to gain from it." Exponum replied. "This is nothing like Hyperious. Crime is simply the way of life here, honor is an alien concept, they will take what they want from you and then use your body in whatever way they wish."
"Use my body?" Elita asked. "For what?"
Exponum stared straight ahead and fidgeted uncomfortably. "Have you ever heard of spark mingling?"
"Yes, but it's not true." Elita replied. "Something degenerates concocted as a way to replicate sexual intercourse for us."
"Well my dear, there are a great many degenerates here." Exponum replied as they heard the thuds of the boxes of supplies they had brought from Axiom being loaded in the back.
"Then why are we helping them?" Elita asked.
"Because there are also a lot of good people here too." Exponum replied. "Our authority ends at the borders of Axiom, but the good we can do need not."
"Yes, do what we can do, help who we can help, until all are one in contentment and happiness." Elita rattled off. "Perhaps those should be our words."
"I would have no problem if they were." Exponun replied with a smile. "But even though they're not, they are good words to live by."
"Yes sir." Elita replied, looking out the window at the hordes of individuals, nearly all worn down and in various states of disrepair, walking through the streets, most seemingly aimlessly. She studied these unfortunate souls for several minutes before the driver's side door swung open and Ratchet climbed in.
"On to the safety of your clinic." Exponum announced enthusiastically as Ratchet pulled away from the curb.
"Yeah, safety." Ratchet replied. "It really has been awhile since you've been here, hasn't it?"
"How much could it have changed?" Exponum asked, but noting that things did seem a bit worse outside than he remembered.
"Well, there's this fighting circuit that, depending on the House, either the nobles are secretly sponsoring or plugging their heads in the sand about." Ratchet looked over at his guests. "No offense."
"None taken." Both members of House Solus replied in unison.
"Anyway, from what I can tell there's a major training facility around here, and they sometimes have their tournaments here. In fact, based on how the locals have been acting lately, I think there's something going on now." Ratchet explained. "So with this underground fight club, the drugs, gambling and all the other wonderful things that accompany money-making illicit campaigns have come to town…well, more than there was before."
"Has this affected your clinic?" Exponum asked, a little worry in his voice.
"Well, more people needing medical help, and whereas before most of the help I provided was for neglect, accidents or the occasional injuries due to violence, I'm now dealing almost exclusively with victims of violent crime or speeder overdoses." Ratchet grumbled. "And I'm losing patients. It slaggin' kills me, but some of these poor souls are losing their sparks to all of this nonsense."
"I've heard of the circuit." Elita whispered, but loud enough for them to hear. "But I've also heard that Sentinel Prime, and Zeta Prime before him were actively trying to bring it down."
"Not actively enough." Ratchet mumbled. "Zeta's dead, probably killed by the gangsters running this thing, and now that he's Prime and no longer Security Chief, Sentinel won't care until dead bodies start showing up in Iacon."
Elita turned and stared in amazement at Ratchet. Her head turned back to Exponum as she felt his hand rest on her shoulder. "My friend Ratchet has no problem speaking his mind, even in regards to the Prime. I trust you'll take the statements as they're meant to be taken, my dear."
"Heh, the kid isn't used to the voice of dissent." Ratchet chuckled.
"I'm used to it, but I'm used to it being delivered with far more respect." Elita replied. "He is the Prime after all."
Ratchet paused for a moment before responding. "Hopefully you're taking Exponum's request to take my statements as they're meant to be taken to heart, but I'm old enough to remember a time when Prime's were chosen by the Matrix, not chosen by senators doing the bidding of the high houses of the lands they come from and represent."
"So you don't consider Sentinel, or Zeta for that matter, to be real Primes?" Elita asked, eliciting a chuckle from Exponum.
"Nope." Ratchet replied. "And Sentinel can come down here and beat me up all he wants, but it won't change my opinion."
"I'm not sure I like your cynical attitude toward our senate or our chosen Prime." Elita replied. "But you are entitled to your opinion."
"Thank you my lady." Ratchet replied, a hint of mirth in his voice.
"You probably aren't fond of nobles or royals, are you?" Elita pressed.
"Depends on the nobles or royals we're talking about." Ratchet replied.
"The system of noble and ruling houses." Elita clarified.
"Oh, that." Ratchet muttered as he turned the vehicle onto a smaller road. "Yeah, not a fan of it."
Elita glared at the medic. "Are you an Autobot?"
Ratchet laughed. "Not ambitious enough to be an Autobot. They want to change the world, I don't."
"And yet you're running a clinic far from your home, in what may be the worst city on the planet." Exponum pointed out.
"I'm in for fixing a few boo-boos, not unseating the system that has run our society for fifteen million years." Ratchet replied, directing the truck around a bot that was passed out in the middle of the road.
"Our system has only been around for eight million years." Elita replied.
"The senate has only been around for eight, but people crawling out of the same pits that spawned the Knights of Cybertron and demanding dominance because of it has been going on for nearly twice that time." Ratchet explained. "Gallus Honorum couldn't stand up against Galvatron's army without a few hundred thousand commoners doing the grunt work, and to win us over he needed to toss us a bone." Ratchet pulled up to a decrepit looking building and came to a stop. "That bone was the senate, an organization that supposedly was meant to hear our voices and take them into account, but, well, yeah." Ratchet explained as he got out of the truck and shut the door.
Elita looked to Exponum in disbelief at how the commoner doctor had spoken to her, and was met by a broad smile from her elder. "It's tough to hear my dear, but he's right."
"This is treason." Elita grumbled.
"No, this is three friends having a discussion." Exponum explained. "You say you made friends with a Pax, this should be nothing new to you. If anything, the Royal House of Pax is a more commoner-friendly than my friend Ratchet." He chuckled as she groaned a reply. "And remember, he is a friend, and someone who is doing a tremendous amount of good in an area that is completely neglected by the noble and royal houses around here. We do help, but it's sending a few supplies and visiting from time to time. Ratchet uprooted his existence, left an amazingly lucrative practice to help who he could help here. We'll be going home in a few hours; this is his existence."
Elita nodded. "Yes sir, he does what he can do, he helps who he can help, and he does a much better job of both than we do."
"He does a very different job of both than we do." Exponum replied. "We lack his skills, but we have resources. But in order to make the most of our resources, we must do it from the throne of Axiom."
Elita nodded again. "I understand. And I suppose that the good he does more than offsets the anti-establishment ideas he spews."
Suddenly the door swung open and Ratchet poked his head into the cab. "We've got to get you out of here."
"Why?" Exponum asked. "What's going on?" Ratchet disappeared but came back with an unconscious robot. "Primus, is that Stitch?"
"Yes, he'll be OK, but we need to get out of here." Ratchet reiterated as he shoved the non-moving Stitch into the laps of his guests.
"But wouldn't we be better able to treat him in the clinic?" Elita asked.
"Whoever did this is still here!" Ratchet grumbled. Elita stared at the doctor for a moment before pushing past Exponum and jumping out of the cab. "Elita, get your ass back in here!" Ratchet roared.
"They wouldn't dare touch a member of Axiom's ruling family!" She spat back as she marched toward the front door.
"Yes they slaggin' would!" Ratchet roared as he jumped out and ran around the truck to stop her from going inside. He was too late, watching as she marched right in. Exponum followed him in as well, and watched in horror as two large thugs stepped in front of Elita and planted a hand on each shoulder.
"Clinic's closed!" One of the thugs announced, pushing Elita back.
"Got it, we'll see ourselves out." Ratchet replied, grabbing Elita by the arm and trying to pull her toward the door.
Elita jerked her arm away and walked back toward the thugs. "This is the property of Ratchet, he determines whether the clinic is open or not!" She spat, looking from one set of optics to the other. "And this is a medical clinic. People who need help find it here. How dare you interfere with that? How dare you keep people from getting treatment that may save their life?"
The two thugs looked at each other and suppressed laughter. "Look femme, I suggest you get the slag out of here before we decide that you'll never get the slag out of here."
"Bring it!" Elita challenged, and took on a fighter's stance.
"I'm sorry, but did I hear that the proprietor of this fine medical establishment was present?" A voice from the back rang out, causing the thugs to stop their advance on Elita. A moment later a boxy tan and purple robot marched out and smiled broadly at them. "Hello." He marched forward and extended his hand toward Ratchet. "Ratchet is it?" He noted the hesitant nod from the boxy white and red robot. "Great. How would you like to make a few credits doing what you normally do?"
"If I were that interested in credits, I'd still be in the Crystal City." Ratchet replied, but considered the situation. "How many patients and what's wrong with them?"
The tan and purple intruder smiled broadly. "Just one. Right leg is mangled, might need a complete replacement. Lots of other dings, but his internal systems can handle those."
Ratchet nodded. "His injuries, how were they sustained?"
The other robot shrugged and shifted his body uncomfortably. "Welllll,"
"I know it was in the course of committing a crime, but there are gradients to crimes, and certain levels of scumbags that I won't offer my help to."
Ratchet's explanation brought a smile to the criminal's face. "Yes, it was a criminal activity, but nobody was victimized."
"Gladiator?" Ratchet asked, exasperation clear in his voice.
"Gladiator." The boxy criminal replied.
"Alright, bring me to him," Ratchet said, "but first, your associates are going to apologize to the lady. Second, we're going to wake up my associate and anyone who touched him will apologize to him as well. And these apologies, they better be sincere or I'll make it so that you're gladiator is going to be wearing his spark on the outside of his frame. Oh, and while I don't want any money from this, you will be reimbursing me for every expense that occurs from this. Got it?"
"More than fair." The gangster, Swindle, looked to his henchmen.
Both henchmen nodded and looked to Elita. "We're sorry." They said in unison.
"They'll revive your associate and make amends with him as well." Swindle assured Ratchet.
"Fine, take me to my patient." Ratchet grumbled. They walked down the hallway and into a room where an exquisite looking but scuffed up yellow robot was standing in the corner and a brawny red robot with a destroyed right leg was seated on the table. "Sweet Primus, you really got your ass handed to you, didn't you?"
The red robot shrugged. "It was three on one, and I won." He looked down at his leg. "Believe it or not, the other guys are worse."
"Uh huh." Ratchet replied as he got to work on the leg. "So why aren't they here?"
"They're locals." The red robot, Sideswipe, replied. "And they fight for a noble house, so they've got their own set up. And as Swindle here's a"
"No names!" Swindle growled. "I assumed the Autobots would have taught you the importance of operating incognito."
"Yeah, this guy is going to bust you out to whatever passes for law enforcement in this shithole." The pretty yellow one snickered.
"Anyway, being commoners our noble hosts did not feel inclined to offer their medical facilities and staff to us, sooooo, we decided to use your clinic." Sideswipe finished explaining.
"Guiding Hand, you really tore this up." Ratchet grumbled as he scrutinized the injury closely. "This will take most of the day." He then looked to Swindle. "I'll patch him up, then you get out of here and never come back." The annoyed medic then turned back to his red patient and pointed at him. "I never want to see this guy on my table again."
Prowl
It had been years since he had stepped foot in this particular precinct house. According to reports it had started out as a slow night, but given the bustle of activity going on now, that had changed. But Prowl wasn't interested in the overall level of crime, he was only interested in one particular incident. As he walked through the front area he caught the notice of the desk sergeant, who frowned and shook his head. "He beat you here. Already with the young lord and his friends, getting their side of things."
"And the kid?" Prowl asked as he stopped in front of the desk.
"We have him in Interrogation Room C." The sergeant, a moderately maintained bulky orange robot, replied. "Ran a full med scan on him a couple hours ago. Sent the results to House Honorum the moment we had them. They said they were the only ones to have access to the results, but I did get a copy for you, figuring you'd be the one to be doing any leg work concerning them." The sergeant said as he handed Prowl a data pad.
"Thank you sergeant." Prowl said, taking the pad and heading toward the room in question.
"It's a real shame." The sergeant called out. "The kid was a natural."
Prowl just continued on, ignoring the comment and passing through the dozens of robots between the front office and the interrogation rooms. He finally got to the room they were holding him in, and he entered. There, seated at the table in the center of the room was Orion. Prowl shook his head. "Did you know he was an Honorum?"
Orion nodded. "Yes, he identified himself."
"Did you have any reason to doubt the veracity of his claim?"
"No, I knew he was telling the truth." Orion answered.
Prowl just stared at him for a moment. "Come on kid, give me something to work with here."
"All I have is the truth." Orion replied, devoid of fear or any degree of remorse.
Prowl let out a pained chuckle before leaning toward the young commoner. "Do you have any idea of what you've done?"
Orion nodded. "My job."
Prowl sat in a chair across from the youngster. "You truly don't know how things work, do you?"
"On the contrary, I'm well aware of how things work." Orion replied. "But just because they work that way, that they've always worked that way, does not make them right. I will be prosecuted, I will be punished, both legally and socially, I will be made an example of, I may even be killed, but I will be right." The powerful young robot shrugged. "And that's all I strive to be."
"Primus," Prowl grumbled as he rubbed his hand over his head, "you are a Pax."
Orion smiled. "Thank you. I'd say you are an Honorum, but you seem genuinely conflicted by what's about to happen to me."
Prowl looked at the robot with an expressionless face. "Let's keep that our little secret. You're allowed to do that, aren't you?"
Orion nodded. "Yes, I can keep most secrets, and that one seems innocuous enough."
Prowl stared sadly at the cadet. "I'm sorry kid, but I really don't see how I can help you."
Orion shrugged, laconically accepting his fate. "I know you can't. I will have my say, I will honestly explain what happened and how I was justified, and if that's not enough, then so be it."
The door was suddenly thrown open and Sentinel Prime stormed in. "What the slag did you think you were doing?" He roared at the young captive.
Orion, not cowed at all, merely stared up at the Prime and replied in a calm steady voice. "Upholding the law and protecting citizens."
"You laid your hands on a royal!" Prime bellowed. "A member of MY House!"
"He and his friends were assaulting two individuals." Orion explained, knowing it was pointless but doing so anyway. "I ordered them to stop, they refused. Your kinsman identified himself, expecting that his name would allow him to do whatever he wished and that I would back off."
"His name does allow him to do whatever he wishes!" Prime snarled.
"The law says otherwise." Orion replied. "Guardian Prime said otherwise."
Sentinel Prime leaned forward and planted his palms on the table, glaring heatedly into Orion's optics. "Guardian Prime is dead; I'm not. You really should have been more cognizant of what I want, not what Guardian said to shut the mouths of the countless common shits out there." Sentinel stood back up and smiled condescendingly down at Orion. "Some commoners can become more than shit. Prowl here is a lord, with lands and a title. I gave him those because he proved he was more than his common origin. You had the potential to do the same. You're smart, you're physically gifted, but you have a downside that more than offsets those positives. You forgot your origins. You forgot you were shit. Had you waited until one of your betters had enhanced your status in some way, you might have been OK feeling entitled to certain airs…not what you did tonight, you'd never be permitted to do that, but you could get away with a few things. But you thought being some sort of constable in training entitled you to lay hands on and assault a member of the highest house on the planet. Lucox emerged from the great Pool of Honorus, as did I, as did Gallus Honorum, as did Honorus himself!" Sentinel Prime growled. "You didn't even emerge from the Pool of Paxus." Sentinel Prime straightened up to his full height and pulled out a data pad. "You somehow emerged from a mountain on Insula Avalonius."
"What?" Prowl coughed out. "That's impossible."
Sentinel Prime crossed his arms and nodded, never breaking his glare at the cadet that had beaten down his kinsman. "I had a scan run on him, always knew the Paxes were hiding something about this kid's origins, and the dumb shit gave me the perfect pretext to dig into it." The Prime shook his head, almost humorously. "The database couldn't make heads or tails of his composition. It was damn near alien. In the end we had to have our satellites conduct deep geologic scans to find materials that could create this…thing." His explanation to Prowl over, he now directed his words back toward Orion. "You're not just some common shit born somewhere in the Torus Heights," Prime leaned in again, planted his hands on the table again, and brought his face to within inches of Orion's, "you're a freak of nature who was born well within the borders of Iacon, which means that your ass is mine even more so than it already was."
Orion continued staring at him, still devoid of fear, but recognizing his situation was much, much worse than he had assumed it had been.
