Guardian Prime

"Tell me Grimlock, how old are you?" Guardian Prime questioned as the two large powerful robots marched through the lower-level hallway of the eastern Capitol Spire.

"Not sure." Grimlock muttered as he took in his surroundings. "Think I was forged a few dozen or so vorns back. Older than most that are still around, but far too young to remember the Manifest launching."

"Makes sense." Guardian Prime replied as they headed toward the door of an elaborate but small meeting room positioned at a corner of the hallway. "I'd like to think that had you been around, I'd have recruited you."

"Ogrus Onyx wouldn't have liked that." Grimlock chuckled. "And I've been a loner all my life. My combat squad had to be forced upon me, and that was just, what, two decades ago, if that."

"You joined the Autobots." Guardian Prime muttered as they entered the room and he waved for Grimlock to take the chair on one side of the table as he closed the door behind them.

Grimlock scoffed. "It was just for a ride away from Onyx and Torrent soldiers at first. Then a middle finger to highborn shitbags. Then the Autobots were the best chance at getting back at Megatron's gladiator cult that fucked us over, especially as by then they had started framing the Autobots in their terrorist campaign. And when the Gates fell, the Autobots had their shit together much better than the government forces did."

"They seemed a bit abrupt in their appointing Orion Pax as their leader." Sentinel replied as he too took a seat. "Obviously it was a brilliant appointment, but at that point he was an untested entity."

"Brilliant is a bit of an overstatement." Grimlock grumbled.

Prime displayed a look of surprise at the massive former gladiator. "That's an opinion I wasn't expecting from anyone, especially an Autobot."

"Look, I'll be the first to say the kid has a lot going for him. He's very smart, no question, and as a warrior he's top tier. He has all the tools, but he's soft." Grimlock stated almost disinterestedly. "You're fighting a war, you're leading an army, you're going to be responsible for lots of people dying. If you have an opportunity to slaughter your enemies en-masse, then do it. If attaining victory means sending soldiers to their deaths, then do it. If you must shelve your precious morality to do that, then fucking do it. But Pax, he just was unwilling to cross certain lines. At first, I attributed it to his youth, maybe to his Pax upbringing, but at this point I'm convinced that it's just him and he's unlikely to ever change."

"Hard to argue with success." Prime countered with a smile. "But I don't disagree. I have tremendous respect for Orion Pax, I hope in time we bring about the social equity we need so that the Autobots see no reason to continue and disband, and I would welcome him as a trusted lieutenant, perhaps my second." Guardian Prime looked away. "Unfortunately, I don't see him accepting that welcome. As you said, he's soft, and leadership, real leadership, has no room for softness."

"Meaning you intend to do things that Pax's delicate sensibilities would be opposed to?" Grimlock asked.

Guardian Prime was quiet for a moment before slowy allowing himself a nod. "Our population has been decimated by the war with the sparkeaters, but it will be replenished. In time we will outgrow this magnificent world of ours, we will outgrow the resources it is blessed with. It's the fate of any higher-level species once it learns to change the world around it to better suit its needs. We've expanded before, we've even cyberformed portions of worlds to better reflect the mechanical portions of our own, but even with these adaptations they're alien worlds incapable of providing energon. Yes, they all have energy sources, most stemming originally from their local star, that we can convert to usable sustinence, but it's at best it's barely more than a wash in terms of the energy levels gained versus the energy levels consumed to create this sustenance." Prime studied Grimlock's face, trying fruitlessly to gauge some sort of reaction, but the hulking gladiator's visage was completely expressionless. Even if he'd had adequate facial features, Prime guessed Grimlock had a very good Sheol's Bounty face.

Finally, Grimlock leaned back in his chair and replied. "Ultra Magnus said that Megatron was boasting of having undergone a physical enhancement that would replicate the increase in power and durability offered by the Matrix, a process that was developed by, at least according to him, Jhiaxus. If true, I'm guessing something like that would have had to have been authorized by you, and obviously done in secret." The bestial robot leaned forward and peered intently at Prime. "One could speculate that the same could be said of any plans for continuation of the Ferrotaxis, especially after the big show of opposing it history records you doing before the Senate and populace."

Prime gave nothing away with his facial expression, merely met Grimlock's intense gaze and replied. "Megatron's claims of this Matrix-caliber enhancement procedure are being investigated thoroughly. But, hypothetically, let's say there's merit to the claims, and even merit to your speculation regarding the Ferrotaxis. I know you could never be accused of being soft, but such a device, one with the ability to effectively wipe out an organic world and all life on it and replace it with a wholly mechanical and energon-producing neo-Cybertron, even many war-hawks would be unnerved by the thought of doing something so…planetcidal."

Grimlock peered intently at Prime's face. Could the simple brute be studying him? Prime dismissed the consideration, especially at hearing Grimlock's response, one accompanied by a shrug. "The weak have always and will always give way to the strong. Something at such a scale obviously needs to have careful thought and consideration put into it, it's not something to be done capriciously,"

"Of course."

"No cruelty or taunting, do not draw it out and torture them with hope, but if it's truly needed for the superior species," Grimlock leaned back into his chair, "then let it be done."

"I'm glad to hear you say that." Prime replied. "Not that the Ferrotaxis was continued but should the need to fully cyber-form worlds become more pressing, I need to know who can be trusted to help with progress, and who's likely to stand in the way." The sentiment was punctuated by a knock at the door. "Come in." Prime called out.

The door slid open revealing Drift. "Prime, your other guest is here."

"Ah, right, of course." Prime replied as he stood up and looked to Grimlock to do the same. "I thank you for coming Grimlock, I know you're busy, and while this may not have seemed like something worth dragging you to the Spires for, trust me, it's something I needed to discuss with you. I ask that you keep this discussion between us for now."

"What discussion?" Grimlock muttered as he walked to the door, giving Drift a brief and disinterested ocular evaluation as he walked through the door, but paying a bit more attention to the other guest of Prime's in the hallway flanked by two brawny guards.

Trepan, his hands shackled in front of him, looked Grimlock over before gazing up to meet his long red optic. "Rossum would have loved to have had the opportunity to work on you." Grimlock paused for just a moment before ignoring the comment and marching past him down the hall. Trepan then turned to Guardian Prime. "He'd loved to have study your frame as well, as would I. I doubt either of us would be able to do much beyond what the Matrix had already done to you, but still, a fascinating study."

"I have a different study for you, Trepan." Prime muttered as he nodded to the guards to have the prisoner follow him down the hall, further into the depths of the Spire's sub-basement level. "You took a brain, a Titan's brain, one that was animalistically simple at its best and that was essentially destroyed when you found it, and you rebuilt it to not only function, but to function at a level of at least average humanoid intelligence."

"Beyond average, I assure you." Trepan boasted, the comment earning a slight shove from Drift who was marching behind him.

"All the more impressive." Prime commented as they reached a set of large double doors at the end of the hallway. "You should know that your continued existence is contingent upon whether or not you can replicate that process."

"You found another brain damaged Titan?" Trepan asked excitedly. "The Quintaxium? The Imperexium?"

Prime stopped and glared at the scientist. "How are you familiar with these names?"

"Trypticon's brain rebuild actually duplicated most of the memories of his brain template." Trepan explained. "Some loyal adviser to House Onyx that was old enough to remember when Quintessons ruled Cybertron. Someone who'd apparently been to one or both of those cities, who'd been to your new pal Metroplex as well." Trepan smiled. "I hope you weren't counting on Megatron being ignorant to this bit of history."

"I suspected he knew." Prime muttered as he turned and continued to the doors, pushing them open. "And to answer your question, no, we have not yet found any brain damaged ignus devas." He led the group into a vast warehouse converted to be a laboratory with the massive headless corpse of the giant that Omega Supreme had killed on Neutronia months before, intense waves of energon were pulsing into the open chest armor and bombarding the exposed spark while walls of computer banks were connected to the giant's neural circuitry at the neck keeping the basic operations of the massive frame going and staving off death…in a way. "We have an ignis numen though."

A look of horror came over Trepan's face. "That's not brain damaged, that's brainless!" He frantically looked up at Prime. "You cannot expect me to repair or modify something that no longer exists!"

"I do actually." Prime shrugged. "Yes, Omega Supreme's blast left far less to work with than I thought it would, but I still need you to give that thing a functioning brain module. It's the reason you're still alive."

"This is impossible!" Trepan panickily shouted. "I have nothing to work with here!"

Prime shook his head in disappointment. "I'm sorry to hear that Trepan." He then looked to Drift. "Eliminate him. But let's take Ultra Magnus's suggestion to heart and question him first. We'll be smelting the frame, so use whatever torture you'd like, there won't be any evidence."

"No!" Trepan shouted.

"As you command, Prime." Drift replied as he reached for Trepan's arm and tugged him to the doors they'd entered through.

"Wait! There's an alternative!" Trepan yelled out. "Wait!"

Prime looked to Drift and nodded, prompting the tugging to stop and Trepan to gather his wits as Prime stared intently at him. "Well, go on. Tell me of this alternative."

Trepan stared at the headless giant as he rushed to explain, fearing Prime would change his mind before he could provide his convincing argument. "That creature's brain is gone, irretrievable. Whatever it knew is lost with it. But if it's just the brawn you want, that giant body functional, then there is a way to make use of it."

"Your execution may just be stayed after all." Prime muttered. "The physical power of that body is all I'm interested in, so please, continue."

"There's a theory, something I came up with while working on Trypticon." Trepan explained. "I refer to it as a Head-Master process. Essentially the body is equipped with systems that keep it alive with the brain module disconnected, much as you have done here, only more compact and fitting within the frame. The head however is a separate entity entirely, another smaller Cybertronian that has its shell mode configured into the head of the larger Cybertronian, and once attached, the nervous systems of the two Cybertronians are integrated to an extent that the larger body is now the body of the smaller entity."

"The head controls the large body as though it were its own?" Prime asked for clarification.

Trepan nodded. "Exactly. Not a pilot controlling a mech, but it is the smaller Cybertronian's body. His own hands, his own feet. Obviously, he'll need to train in that new body, it'll be a tremendous adjustment."

"And you can make that happen?" Prime pressed.

"Yes." Trepan replied confidently. "The science is sound. Provided the rest of that frame is preserved as well as it appears to be, yes, I can make this happen. The subject for the headmaster will need a very strong spark to integrate with the massive spark and body you have there. At least a load bearer. And he'll need to be large. We can enhance his or her frame, but it still needs to be a large frame to begin with." Trepan raised his shackled hands to his chest, palms outward. "I can vouch for the science behind it, and I'll be responsible for the procedure, but any issues regarding the candidate is entirely on you."

"That's fair." Prime replied. "The guards here will escort you to a lab where you can get started on this. You'll have whatever resources you need, but you are to get this completed quickly."

"Yes, Guardian Prime." Trepan replied as the two guards flanking him pulled him over toward a side room on the far end of the vast laboratory.

Prime nodded for Drift to come to him. "We've already been compiling a list of noteworthy individuals, for threat analysis or recruitment consideration. I know one category is likely bearers of ignis superious."

"Yes Prime, I have the current listings of this compilation here." Drift replied dutifully as he pulled out a data tab and began scrolling through the information. "Ignis superious, eleven that we are confident of."

"At least twenty-two feet in height floor to head." Prime narrowed.

"Six."

"Let me see the candidates." Prime instructed and took the offered tablet. He scrolled through the six candidates. "Free thinker, too smart, too dumb…ooohhhh, yes, he'll do." Prime pressed his finger on his selection, bringing up the dossier on that candidate and handing the tablet back to Drift. "I've actually met this one, fiercely loyal, almost to the point of worshipping me. And a physical bruiser, taller and broader than me, and at least has a load bearing spark if not more."

"Spreem?" Drift muttered the name as he studied the dossier.

"Yes, have him report here."

0000

Orion Pax

Under different circumstances this would have been an impressive gathering. Polar Claw had summoned all the Maximals on Earth back to the Axalon, and Orion had taken every Autobot on the planet north to the artic circle to meet with them all. In addition to the Maximals and Autobots were Alpha Trion and the fully recovered thirty-three-foot tall Jetfire. Orion had spent many an hour chatting with him in the last week and found him to be almost intimidatingly brilliant. When he had mentioned this to Alpha Trion, the old scientist laughed and related that Jetfire had said the exact same thing about him.

Orion's thoughts were interrupted by the approaching Ironhide. "We're awl here, Cahmmander, ya' sure you wanna do this?"

"Yes." Pax replied as he gazed out over the large group. "They have a right to know, they have to know what they're fighting for, and what they'll likely be fighting against."

"That's tha problem, Orion." Ironhide countered. "Yer about ta tell the Maximals that tha sleeping giant they'd been babysittin' is coming back ta scorch this Earth, and ya are goin' to ask them to stay and defend it. Yer about to ask the Autobots ta stand against tha greatest hero of our planet and become traitors of Cybertron. An' then yer goin' just let 'em dwell on that an' not expect some of them ta rabbit, or worse, rabbit an' tell Prahme."

"I under…" a confused look came over Pax, "rabbit?"

"Human slang." Ironhide clarified. "Means run away."

"Ahh, and yes, that's a very real concern, as is their loyalty to Prime and the prospect of them warning him." Orion nodded. "But they have a right to know what may happen. I hope I'm wrong, but if I'm not, I cannot simply allow Guardian Prime to wipe out organic life on this world and make it a big metal energon-producing back up world."

"You really think that's what he wants?" Ironhide asked.

"I wish I could say no," Orion looked down at the ice-covered ground at their feet, frigid winds whipping against their red metal frames, "but every instinct in me tells me that's what he intends to do here. Plus," he looked up and nodded toward Alpha Trion, who met his gaze, "I have it on good authority that a full-scale test of the Ferrotaxis on Helios-Three has been on Prime's agenda for well over a million years." Orion tried to force himself to relax before looking back at Ironhide. "But I will speak with Prime and be sure before acting against him. My questions will likely tip him off to my intentions, so those that will be standing with me need to be told now of what might happen, so that we can be ready when he takes action."

"Standing with us, Orion." Ironhide muttered as he reached up and squeezed the much younger Cybertronian's shoulder. "Standing with us. From now til mah spark's last pulse, I stand with you."

"Doing so may make that last pulse come far quicker than you expected." Orion smiled.

"Not possible." Ironhide chuckled as he turned and started walking toward the assembled Autobots and Maximals. "I expected it to burn out tens of thousands of vorns ago." After several steps he turned and looked back. "Ya should probably get this show on tha' road, Pax. Getting' a bit cold even for our metal bumpers."

"You're right." Pax nodded and watched Ironhide rejoining the other Cybertronians before stepping upon the command deck created from his trailer and calling out. "Attention everyone!" The conglomeration of Autobots, Maximals and the few that didn't fit into either group went silent and faced the Aubobot Commander. "Armed with the information provided to us by the Maximals, several hours ago American scientists accompanied by Wheeljack found the Ferrotaxis deep within the bowels of the Atlantis command center. Still inoperable due to the damage done to it by Primal Convoy over eleven thousand years ago, but based on Wheeljack's best guess, it can be repaired, refueled and reactivated within a matter of hours by someone with knowledge of how it works." Orion looked down for a moment before sadly re-raising his optics to the group. "I firmly believe that Guardian Prime knows how it works, and I fear that he intends to repair it and use it to cyberform Earth."

"That's impossible." Air Raid called out. "Guardian Prime forbade its development, Jhiaxus was obviously working on his own, against orders. That's why he made it on this backwater mudball."

The Maximals grumbled and a few snickered, but it was Alpha Trion that spoke. "Guardian Prime was well aware of this backwater mudball long before construction on the Manifest commenced."

"Maybe, but it's a stretch to say that he was aware of what Jhiaxus was up to here." Silverbolt shot back, almost angrily. "And who the hell are you?"

"His name is A-Three, he is the former polyhistor of Tyger Pax." Orion stated. "And I pray you're right about Prime being unaware of what's here. I will be speaking with him soon, I will be discussing this matter directly to him, I will be asking him very pointed questions. If I walk away from that meeting confident that he intends to destroy the Ferrotaxis and ensure that it cannot be replicated, then I will apologize to him and to you for voicing these concerns. But if I believe that he intends to use this device to end and remake this or other worlds, I will be forced to oppose him. I will fight to my spark's last pulse to protect this world from his imperial ambitions."

"That's treason!" Slingshot bellowed, the third Aerialbot to raise some sort of objection, and thus far the most disrespectfully delivered.

"Aye," Orion nodded as he gazed at Slingshot, "that's what they'll call it, and me and anyone following me will be branded as such. But if it gets to that point, the alternative will be to stand back and allow all life on this world to be wiped from existence and have the planet remade into a purely mechanical surface." His gaze washed over all those listening to him. "I cannot abide by the alternative. I give you my word that I will verify that this is Prime's intention before any action is taken, but if it is, I plan to protect this planet, and I could use all the help I can get."

"You're asking us to defy Cybertron." Rattrap announced. "Not just sneak around and sabotage stuff or fight a small group of colonial fender-sacks, or make sure interested parties don't find a skuttled giant ship, no, now you're asking us to stand against Cybertron led by the Prime."

"Yes, that's what I'm asking." Pax replied. "You Maximals volunteered for a task that was to be far shorter, simpler and safer than what it turned out to be." Orion turned to the Autobots. "You Autobots set out to create a society of equals under the law, and that mission has been accomplished." He then looked over everyone. "There's no question that what I ask of you now was never something you ever expected to be asked. I certainly have no right asking it of you. But I am asking. This isn't for me, this isn't some coup against the government or Prime, this is simply to keep this planet safe. A planet that isn't your home, that's filled with countless species that you have zero kinship to, to save them all from a fate that will likely enrich the lives of Cybertronians. I am asking you to stand against our planet's greatest leader and hero, not because you'll be remembered fondly for it; you likely won't. Not because we'll win; we almost certainly can't. I'm asking you to stand with me because it's the right and moral thing to do. I'm asking you to oppose the slaughter of an entire planet, and maybe our efforts and sacrifice will serve as an example so that others take up our fight." Orion looked down and shook his head. "As I said, I pray I'm wrong, but if I'm not, I will stand against him. I will have to stand against him." He looked up. "That's all I have, dismissed."

The large assembly dispersed, some of the Autoobots slowly started walking toward the Oar, the craft that had transported most of them to this artic region of Earth, others stayed in the general area interacting with the Maximals. Prime looked to Alpha Trion but saw that he was engaged in a deep conversation with the towering Jetfire, so he looked to his officers approaching him, Prowl, Ironhide and Jazz and walked toward them. "I would have advised against including everyone for this little bombshell. The Aerialbots are going to be a problem, they're not even Autobots, their loyalty is to Prime, they'll be putting in a call to him within the hour. I suggest we detain them, hold…"

"No, we're not going to do that." Orion interrupted. "I'll be telling Prime where I stand soon enough, and honestly, I'm sure he already has his suspicions."

"So, the plan is to simply confirm it, and make sure that if we do have to fight him, he'll be fully prepared to kick our asses?" Prowl questioned pointedly.

"We don't have the resources to overwhelm him militarily." Pax replied. "If we're going to be able to oppose him, it'll be because we win over support of his base by letting them know what he has planned."

"His base is worried about Decepticons, and likely sees a converted Earth and the Ore-13 we'll be getting from it as the most effective way to defeat them." Prowl continued to press.

"We've already achieved, through diplomacy, the support of the human governments and their willingness to provide us with any Ore-13 they come across." Orion replied. "Yes, it's limited, but activating the Ferrotaxis would slaughter this world. There has to be some morality left on Cybertron, I can't believe that what remains of our populace would support this."

"Fear frequently overwhelms morality, Pax." Jazz countered. "And most Cybertronians can't think of any organic species as anything more than vermin."

"Demonstrating the higher-level functioning of humans will be easy," Pax countered, almost annoyed, "and even if every species on a planet is simple, that doesn't make exterminating a planet an acceptable option!"

"It's nawt us yewl be needin' ta' convince, Pax." Ironhide countered. "We're just playin' Unicron's advocate, here. And after tha last few years, compassion fer other species will likely take a back seat for anything that might make life on Cybertron better and safer."

"I understand that Ironhide." Orion shook his head. "But what's right needs to take precedence over what's safe or convenient. And if that's a stance I'll be taking against all Cybertron, then so be it."

"Pax!" Bumblebee's voice came through all their wrist speakers. "The escape craft has detached from the Oar, someone's stealing it!"

"Jetfire, Aerialbots, transform and prepare to shoot it down!" Orion called out as the ascending escape ship emerged from the other side of the parked Oar.

"Hold up Pax!" Jetfire called out and started trotting to Orion. "It's not what you think."

"Explain!" Orion barked.

The thirty-five-foot tall Jetfire held out his hands defensively. "I had no idea until he casually mentioned what he was going to do just as he set out to do it." The stern look from Orion let Jetfire know the explanation had better start explaining more. "Al…A-Three, he said he had to contact a few people."

"The Pax polyhistor? What the hell is going on?" Prowl growled.

Pax shook his head in exasperated confusion. "Every time I think we're square, he does something else to get me borderline enraged." He looked to his lieutenants. "Just let him go, if anyone asks tell them I granted him permission to take the escape craft."

000

Mindset

Mindset wasn't the masochistic type, but if either of them had to take a headshot during their escape, he'd had vastly preferred it to be him as opposed to Jhiaxus. Though a loyal soldier, this wasn't wishing to take on the injuries of a superior, no, this was the wishes of someone on a disabled craft who lacked the technical expertise to repair that craft while the inventor of the craft lay dormant with a head wound. The schematics were undoubtedly downloaded into the ship's computer, and they were undoubtedly intuitive and made so that even Mindset could fix a few things, but the ships computer was as trashed as navigation, propulsion, communications, and a dozen other vital elements of the craft.

"Beep…beep…beep…beep…"

And now it seemed the sensor array was on the fritz as well. He wasn't sure where they were, but wherever it was, just a quick optic-sweep of the vast nothingness around them and very, very distant stars made it clear that they weren't close enough to anything worthwhile, and that there was nothing legitimate that could be causing the proximity alarm to be going off. "Shut the slag up!" Mindset growled pointlessly at the control panel before finally shimmying out from under that panel and got himself back to a standing position, looking into the rear seat where Jhiaxus, his head heavily scorched, laid dormant in stasis lock. "Could really use a hand with this, my lord." He muttered to his sole companion, as futile an uttering as his previous snarling at the proximity sensor, which was still going off.

Mindset turned and glared at the control panel. "The one slagging thing I thought was still functioning." He grumbled as he switched the alarm off and scrutinized it but stop as something caught his optic through the viewport. "What the…". A small white craft was hovering directly in front of theirs, though small, it was larger than the disabled craft that housed Jhiaxus and Mindset. He instinctively reached down to send off a hail but pulled his hand back at realizing that the communications system was disabled. A hatch on the roof of the hovering craft opened, and a glider, one sized about right to be a mid-sized Cybertronian in modified shell mode, exited and began its approach toward the drifting ship Mindset was in.

Mindset grabbed a rifle and scurried to the hatch on the roof of his small ship, emerging into space and pointing the weapon at the approaching glider, a misnomer in this environment as there was no atmosphere to glide through and the movement was facilitated by boosters on the aft. The approaching vehicle stopped, and a moment later a small device was slowly launched and was propelled through space at a non-threatening pace toward Mindset. Mindset caught it and saw that it was a communicator with audio-piece. Mindset affixed the audio-piece to his left receptor, and a voice came through in ancient Cybertronian, something he was not completely familiar with, but it was close enough so that he could follow. "Greetings, who beist thou, and whyhaps have you found yourself in this sector?"

"Uh, yeah, the name's Mindset, I'm from Cybertron…which you seem to know already, so, uh, we had a mishap with our wormhole generator." He replied. "I have a companion that is severely injured. I'd appreciate any help you could give."

"Of course." The glider continued forward and transformed to robot mode, a mid-sized but well-built robot with green helmet, upper face mask, torso, and lower legs, while his arms and upper legs were whitish silver. The newcomer landed on the hull several yards in front of Mindset. "I could tell from your craft that you were of Cybertron. I was taught the old version of the language, which is my default, but I am familiar with the more modern tongue. My name is Rook, and I am affiliated…" he paused. "I fear I really cannot divulge much of the society I am a part of, there are security concerns."

"Look, my superior officer needs significant repair, his wounds are quite severe." Mindset explained. "I will submit to whatever security measures you deem fit, but I need to get him medical treatment soon."

Rook studied Mindset for a moment before nodding and jerking his thumb back toward his craft. "Alright, the Saber has a sensory deprivation chamber on board which should keep you from determining the location of The Hub. I will help you get your injured superior aboard."

000

Elita One

"By The Hand, what's that smell?" Elita muttered to herself as she made her was down the hallway toward her office, dismayed at the realization that as she got closer to her office, the smell got stronger. She raised her wrist to her mouth. "Maintenance, this is Elita One. I may need…" her door slid open, and she entered the room, freezing as she caught sight of a stranger seated on the couch on the far side of the room. "Never mind." She shut the channel but left her wrist next to her mouth. "I can have security here in seconds, so you may want to explain what you're doing here," she drew significantly more air into her vents than she typically did, "and why you're stinking up my office."

"I apologize for the smell." The bearded white, maroon, blue and purple robot stood non-threateningly. "I am coming from a location where the smell permeates everything, and as I'm in a bit of a time-crunch, I did not take the time to do a chemical wash."

"The thing is, I didn't ask about the source of your smell, I asked what you're doing here." Elita stated sternly.

"You did, which is a valid question, though I am surprised that you did not ask who I am." The stranger, who gave the impression of being quite old, replied. "But as to the question that you did ask, I'm here to inform you that Orion Pax and Guardian Prime are going to be at odds soon, and in all likelihood it will turn violent."

"Impossible." Elita scoffed. "Prime loves Orion, the statues and films he's commissioned alone are…"

"Attempts to win the youth over so that he can ask the impossible of him." The bearded robot interrupted.

"And what's that?" Elita asked skeptically.

"To stand by and do nothing as Guardian Prime ends worlds." The intruder answered.

Elita stared him over for a moment before walking over to her desk and taking a seat behind it, maintaining her glare on the other robot the entire time. At her taking a seat, he lowered himself back down to the couch. "Alright, well, as you've been waiting for it, here it is. Who are you?"

"Most living people who know me call me A-Three." Elita leaned forward at recognizing the name of the long missing Tyger Pax polyhistor and Roller's accomplice in getting Orion off world years before. "Though the name Atrium of the Crystal City has started being used again in certain circles. But the name I was born with was Alpha Trion."

Elita gasped. "Primon?"

"Yes, that's another name I once had." The old robot smiled weakly at his attempt at humor.

"You…you're A-Three?" Elita questioned pointedly.

"Odd, that's the one identity of mine people tend to accept without question." The many-named individual smiled as he leaned back.

"Orion is a major part of my life, and A-Three was a major part of his." Elita shot back. "If you are who you claim to be, at least that part of who you claim to be, then you are welcome here." A stern look came over her face. "Though I do have a bone to pick with you regarding you kidnapping him and making me fear the worst for fourteen years."

"The choice I had at the time was to keep him safe and cause his loved ones to fear for his safety, or let their fears become reality as Sentinel Prime had him killed." Alpha Trion shrugged. "So, by all means, pick away."

Elita raised her wrist to her face. "Open a channel to House Pax and put me through to Emir Nelonia Pax."

"Right away, Elita One." The voice came back through the speaker.

Several seconds passed before, "This is Nelonia Pax."

"Greetings Emir Pax, this is Elita One. I have a favor to request." Elita replied.

"It's wonderful to hear your voice Elita One, and an honor to speak with you." Nelonia's voice came back. "Please, as anything of me."

"I would like you to transmit a visual image and any other identifying information of your former polyhistor, A-Three." Elita asked.

"I…I'm sorry Emir Elita, but A-Three was fiercely private, and Arlon…House Pax as a whole protected his privacy." Nelonia apologetically came back. "That may be the one request I cannot honor. Please, ask anything else of me."

Elita stared at A-Three intensely, a wave of energon flickered over her optics as she scanned his image and transmitted it to Nelonia. "Can you at least confirm that this is him sitting in my office?"

"By Primus, he's alive!" Nelonia gasped.

Elita nodded a confirmation to herself before addressing Nelonia. "Emir Pax, I will reconnect with you later regarding this, for the time being, please keep this between us."

"I…of course Elita One." Nelonia replied with confusion etched into her voice. "I eagerly await your call."

Elita One severed the channel and continued her visual evaluation of who she now believed to be A-Three…or Atrium of the Crystal City, who was Gallus Honorum's most valued ally, or Alpha Trion, who would become Primon, the first Prime. Of course, appearance could be modified, but for whatever reason, she now believed this robot. "Alright, assuming I believe you are who you claim to be, and even believe what you claim is going to happen will happen, what is it you want me to do?"

"To do what is right." A-Three replied.

"And what's that?" Elita scoffed. "To serve Cybertron and the Matrix-chosen Prime with honor and kill worlds, or be a traitor and stand by the greatest Cybertronian I've ever known?"

"Matrix-chosen Prime." A-Three chuckled as he looked down at the floor for a moment. After a few seconds he looked back up and met Elita's gaze. "I can assure you from first-hand experience, being chosen by the Matrix and bearing it in your chest does not make you infallible. Nor does it make you incorruptible. And based on what I've observed over millions of years studying Guardian Prime, the favor of the Matrix likely isn't guaranteed for life."

"Meaning?"

A-Three smiled. "Aren't you curious about why Jhiaxus developed a series of upgrades designed to equal the level of enhancement provided by the Matrix?"

"Seems like a very valuable procedure in my optics." Elita replied.

"Yes, but according to the evidence, he was commissioned by Guardian Prime to do so." A-Three shrugged. "The one individual who would stand to lose should such a procedure come into existence. Unless…" A-Three let that hang for several seconds.

"You're suggesting he lost…favor?" A skeptical Elita asked, though her skepticism wasn't as strong as it should have been.

"It's a theory." The ancient robot answered as he stood up and started toward the door. "Another theory of mine is that soon you will be asked to choose a side. It will not be an easy choice, so I suggest starting your considerations now."

Elita stared at the empty couch as she pondered his words but called out just as he reached the door. "Do I need to contact Emir Pax with an explanation, or will you be providing that to her yourself, A-Three?"

The old robot turned his head a bit so that his left optic was toward her. "You can save yourself a call, Tyger Pax is my next stop. And please, Elita One, from this day forward my name is once again Alpha Trion." With that he left.

000

Obsidian

The world was primitive, were it not for the strange enhanced energon it wouldn't be worth the fuel used to transport here. But this was where Orion Pax was, murderer of his beloved. No, it was battle, as enraged and agonized as Obsidian was, he would not slander Orion, even in his own mind. But Strika was dead, and Orion had dealt the killing blow, and therefore the young Pax, or Convoy, or commoner, whatever he was, needed to die, and Obsidian needed to be the one to snuff his powerful green spark. And that meant coming here to this dirt, rock, and water world with overwhelming aerial superiority. "Starscream, front and center!"

The arrogant shit sauntered away from the cluster of Seekers and stood before Obsidian atop one of the many buttes in the dry, arid area, his standard smirk in place. "Aye, Obsidian, what can I do for you?" The optics of the Air Commander lifted skyward momentarily to catch sight of a brown and white bird high overhead but returned to meet Obsidian's optics after the brief distraction.

"How certain are you that the Autobots will be moving through here?" The hovering general asked.

"Quite certain, Obsidian." Starscream reported. "We intercepted a transmission from the American military to the Pacific Northwest, specifically the border area of the states Washington and Oregon where we've narrowed the Autobot headquarters to a few hours ago. The humans discovered an outcropping of Ore-13 near Ghost Ranch, New Mexico, a few miles from here. We have Laserbeak patrolling the skies north of here, and he just sent word that the Autobot shuttle is approaching and appears to be landing about 20 miles from here in the desert. That's Pax's typical M.O., put down where the humans likely won't see the craft and continue in human vehicle modes. So, short answer long, yes, we're certain that the Autobots are on their way. They're just all ground vehicles, so it may take some time."

Obsidian looked over the dry, rocky landscape. There was vegetation, but there was far less green here than most other parts of this world not covered by water. Far below in the canyon he saw a darkly colored bear foraging through some of the underbrush. The hovering legend looked away from the animal, saddened. He had always respected and admired the organic natural aspects of Cybertron than had evolved alongside the mechanical. Organic life was pitifully short in duration, but there was a beauty in how nature found its equilibrium, even after periods of vast change and upheaval, organic life seemed to adapt to the new norm. And now, regardless of who was victorious, this new organic world was going to be purged of all organic life and remade into a wholly mechanical utopia. That bear below, the raptor in the sky above, the bison and mustang a half mile from the bear, the lone wolf eyeing the mustang from a respectful distance, all the plants and organism on this world, all of it would be gone within days of the activation of the Ferrotaxis. All so that Cybertronians could have a different form of energon and growing room they wouldn't need for millions of years.

Obsidian ended his contemplations regarding this planet's future and re-focused on the task at hand, looked up to the north where a few miles in the distance he finally saw the clouds of dust being kicked up. "Decepticons, take your positions." The soldiers scrambled around them, they'd been there a couple hours, the instructions had been made clear, they each knew their role. The Decepticons for the most part were not the most disciplined of soldiers, but the secretive and often rushed training that Megatron and his lieutenants had conducted in the years of the Great Deception was for the most part effective, and the less secretive training in the four years of warfare with the sparkeaters was honed all the more by actual combat. Four years of warfare with the sparkeaters…and with others. He had never been bound by honor, certainly not to the degree of an Arlon Pax or Atrium of the Crystal City, or Pious Maximus, or Big Convoy or…well, the list could go on for a while given how long he'd lived, but though he was far more pragmatic than the likes of those leaders, even he was unnerved by what had been done at the Grand Convocation. But that was in the past, what was done was done, and he could only move forward, serve the cause he had chosen to serve, and avenge his magnificent Strika.

The Autobots were now coming into visible range, led as expected by a big red boxy ground vehicle that had to be Orion Pax pulling a very plain gray trailer. His entourage was on the light side, just three vehicles, a predominantly white sedan painted to resemble local law enforcement, a sleek yellow sports car, and a green military jeep. This ambush would not eradicate all the Autobots on this Earth, but it would remove their leader and these other three and leave what's left vulnerable and easy to pick off. But Obsidian's quest for justice would be sated. Justice? Were Orion Pax's actions a crime? "Silence." Obsidian grumbled to his own mind. Justice or vengeance, it ultimately didn't matter, Obsidian could spend what remained of his life after this day second-guessing his right to have executed Orion Pax, or he could spend it regretting not executing Orion Pax. Living with the regret of killing Orion Pax for simply killing his enemy as soldiers are supposed to do was the lesser of two evils to the ancient general. He raised his communicator to his mouth. "Starscream, take Thundercracker and corral the other three away from Pax. Once clear of their leader, kill them."

"Yes, Obsidian." Starscream replied through the channel.

"Motormaster, your team is to engage Orion Pax, keep him away from his soldiers but do not kill him."

"Yeah, on it." Motormaster grumbled a reply.

Obsidian watched as a gray jet and blue jet shot out toward the oncoming Autobot vehicles far below and started raining ordinance down upon them. As ordered, they targeted between Pax and the others to separate the soldiers from their leader and started directing the three mid-sized Autobots toward a cluster of three buttes a mile in the distance. The five Stunticons, as they've apparently been designated, were seen charging out from the shadows below the butte Obsidian and other fliers were perched upon. "Remember Motormaster, I want Pax subdued. Injure him if you need to, but he is to be alive."

"Yeah, Yeah, we know." The Stunticon Commander muttered as he charged out, his teammates zipping out ahead to engage Orion. "His spark'll still be sparkin', but I'm pounding that frame to scrap metal."

Obsidian refrained from harshly reprimanding Motormaster for his disrespectful talking back to a superior officer; such was the current state of the Decepticon military, but in time he'd instill real discipline. He turned his attention to Starscream and Thundercracker harassing the three automobiles speeding toward a butte for cover. The two jets zipped over them, cut around and started strafing the yellow, white, and green vehicles from ahead of them, prompting the Autobots to transform and fire into the sky futilely. The three Autobots hastily made their way toward the tall, vertical rockface, firing back and up the entire time, seeming to buy themselves a respite of the few seconds it would take the two Decepticons to round the butte and get a lock on them. But just as the last of the Autobots cut around the corner the rockface impossibly opened and standing there in the previously hidden cavern was a large but sleek white and red robot that looked to be about thirty-five feet in height.

Its chest was made up of what was clearly a nosecone and cockpit. "Starscream, be advised…" the large unknown robot fired once into the sky with his rifle before stepping forward, transforming into a large, sleek jet, and darting into the sky. "Obviously they have a flier, take it down." He then turned to the fliers behind him, "Skywarp, Thrust, Ramjet and Dirge, take to the sky and aid your comrades." Even as the Decepticons were lifting off the top of the butte and transforming Obsidian could only watch as this unknown jet seemed to defy the laws of physics and accelerate and decelerate impossibly fast, getting position behind Starscream and Thundercracker, and with expert accuracy fired shots into their wings, forcing them down. To their credit, both Starscream and Thundercracker transformed and landed alright, but they were no longer able to aid their four comrades against this new but clearly formidable Autobot air warrior.

This was obviously a trap. The humans 'discovered' a cache of Ore-13 and sent word to the Autobots that the Decepticons intercepted? How could he be so dense? Obviously Strika's death and his quest to avenge it had taken him off his game a bit. He leapt off the butte and transformed to his helicopter mode, heading toward the Stunticons giving chase to Orion Pax. "Scrapper, it's a trap, bring in the reserves! Target Orion Pax!"

A 'boom' from the sky above was heard and a moment later the shuttle that had transported him to this planet was descending from the upper atmosphere. Orion Pax wasn't the only one with a few hidden tricks. Obsidian chanced a look over toward the dogfight and was dismayed to see that Ramjet was already plummeting to the ground and the remaining three Decepticons were completely unable to gain any leverage over the large flying Autobot. "Scrapper, unload Red Wing, Nacelle, Hooligan, Space Case and Skyjack and have them assist Thrust, Dirge and Skywarp in taking down that Autobot flier."

"If this is a trap, should we…"

"We have an air force and two gestalts!" Obsidian agitatedly interrupted Scrapper's half-said suggestion. "Whatever preparations Pax had will be insufficient to keep us from achieving what we are here to achieve." He could see five jets of differing colors exit the craft even as he was finishing his reply. All their jet modes had been altered to resemble aerial combat craft of this planet, but as they weren't currently trying to blend in as Earth jets, they didn't expand their size to the dimensions of the Earth vehicles they were made to look like. Their more condensed modes provided smaller and more dense and durable targets and were therefore preferable in combat. The Autobot jet was the only one that was even close to the size of a comparable Earth jet, and that wasn't due to expansion, that was just because he was very large.

The Autobot jet was almost impossibly fast, so fast that what should have been an easy flanking opportunity resulted in him pulling away from all eight Decepticons and causing them to cluster together and fall back while they gave embarrassingly futile looking pursuit. This white and red Autobot shot forward and down, veering into a canyon below, turning sideways as it entered the canyon and maneuvered between the vast rocky walls. All eight of the Decepticon fliers followed the Autobot into the canyon, maintaining fire the…wait. "No, pull up!" It was too late, it should have been obvious, but Obsidian had overlooked the potential for an ambush in the canyon. The Autobots had already prepped the area and seeded it with hidden soldiers, and this was made clear as fire erupted from the walls of the canyon, cutting into the flying Decepticon pursuers. Skyjack, Thrust, Dirge and Nacelle managed to pull up in time, but Skywarp, Hooligan, Red Wing and Space Case were cut down and sent crashing to the floor of the canyon hundreds of feet below. "Slag it all!"

It was going from bad to worse as five new forms came over the horizon, and like with his Decepticon fliers, these new forms resembled human aircraft, but were condensed to standard Cybertronian size: more flying Autobots. This would not be an overwhelming victory, but it could be a more modest victory. If they could kill Orion Pax, then whatever else happened today would be a small price to have to pay for such an achievement. He zeroed in on the red truck hauling a gray trailer trying to get away from the Stunticons. Orion was putting distance between him and Motormaster, but the other four Stunticons had caught up to him and were harassing him. "Scrapper, the Stunticons are directing Pax between those two buttes a half mile to the south, park the ship between them, disembark and catch Pax in a pincer move."

"Yes Sir, Obsidian." Scrapper replied as the shuttle shot out toward the two rock pillars jutting skyward, slowed to a hover, rotated around, and lowered to the ground. A moment later six green and purple construction vehicles came speeding down the ramp. It would be more than enough to end Pax, but resources were needed elsewhere. Fortunately, not all the reserves were in the shuttle. "Blitzwing, Astrotrain, Octane, take over for the Stunticons. Motormaster, get to the canyon and engage the entrenched Autobots and aid our downed fliers if needed. Should Menasor be needed, then merge."

"I want Pax!" Motormaster protested loudly.

"You'll do as commanded!" Obsidian bellowed back as he shot over the black and gray Stunticon leader on his way toward Orion Pax. Motormaster continued in his pursuit of Pax until a MiG-25, KC-135 Stratotanker, and a Cybertronian orbital bomber zipped over him, prompting him to veer off to the east toward the canyon where four Decepticon jets had been brought down. "Triple-changers, widen out to effectively trap Pax in, then transform to terrestrial modes."

"You've got it, Obsidian." Blitzwing replied as he cut to the east, Octane swept to the west, and Astrotrain flew below Obsidian. Astrotrain transformed to a locomotive once he was a dozen feet off the ground and let his momentum from flight mode carry his ground mode forward at over a hundred miles an hour, while Blitzwing did the same for his tank mode, and Octane followed suit in a tanker truck mode, all of them with the Constructicons effectively encircling Orion Pax, who was now coming to a stop. Orion circled around, detached from his trailer, and transformed, holding his ion blaster and swiveling his head to gauge the threat before him. "Constructicons, merge." Obsidian commanded, and watched as the six green vehicles reconfigured themselves into an eighty-foot-tall humanoid monstrosity. "Dismember Orion Pax!" Obsidian gave his final order before unloading his cannons at the Autobot Commander.

Orion leapt to the side with astounding speed and avoided the barrage from the Cybertronian helicopter. Obsidian had been told of the last Convoy's reflexes, but he truly was faster than could be anticipated, and the Decepticon general was unable to evade Orion's return fire clipping his wing and bringing him down. Obsidian hit the ground hard but had the wherewithal to transform and get to a standing position. Devastator stalked Orion menacingly as the triplechangers slowly tightened the circle around Orion. Orion continued to evaluate the Decepticons coming for him, but there was something in his optic. Not only a lack of fear, but a look of knowing. No, he had to be bluffing. He was thoroughly outmatched, there was no way around that.

Obsidian chanced a look toward the east where he saw the Stunticons being confronted by the five new mid-sized Autobot fliers, both teams transforming to robot mode. Motormaster must have not wanted to waste time, as a moment later the Stunticons were merging into Menasor. But to Obsidian's amazement, the five Autobots were combining as well. The two equally sized giants exchanged fire before charging each other. Obsidian was relieved as Menasor hip-tossed the predominantly white Autobot gestalt, throwing him dozens of yards away. Menasor smirked before charging the rising Autobot but was unable to see or evade the right cross the Autobot was throwing his way, a punch that caught Menasor right in the face and sent him flying back into a rockface, which caused a small avalanche to come down the mountain and partially bury him as he hit the ground. Shit, Menasor was so stupid.

Obsidian turned and re-focused on Orion Pax, who gave his trailer a smack, prompting it to open to repair bay mode. Inside was an African lion and an orange robot with gray metal and fleshy elephant parts covering his body that appeared to have had to spread himself over the floor of the trailer uncomfortably to fit inside, both sprung to their feet ready for action, the lion roaring at the Decepticons surrounding them. Obsidian raised his arms and targeted Orion Pax, but the wolf he had seen earlier charged and attacked him, chomping down on his arm, and dragging him down. No, while it was the same entity, the wolf he had seen earlier fell within the size parameters of wolves, this one was now much larger; clearly a Cybertronian. As the Decepticon fliers that took on Earth jet forms had to expand to mimic the size of the crafts they were impersonating, other forms required condensation to get to smaller sizes, as was the case of this faux canine. The overall mass remained the same, so just as expansion thinned out the Cybertronian and made it more vulnerable to damage, condensing made it denser and more durable. Of course, these musings were pointless as the animal was its natural size, and Obsidian flung the beast away, but the animal had been expecting that and transformed mid-air, landing as a robot, a Maximal with a small rifle in his hand, and a moment later Obsidian was on his back on the rocky ground with a painful wound in his chest. "Maximal mongrel!"

"That's right, traitor!" The hideous blue Maximal with gray fur covering him snarled. "This is what happens when you go after a Convoy!"

Obsidian turned to see why his soldiers were letting this happen and saw that the other animals he had been admiring before the battle were now besieging them. Blitzwing's tank mode had been rammed by the bison and now both were transforming to robot mode, the bear was rolling Astrotrain's locomotive over, and the mustang was kicking Octane's tanker mode with its rear legs, causing the truck to tip over. But most startling of all was that the large bird he had been watching, a bald eagle, was veering down toward Orion Pax. No, not Pax, the lion and orange and gray robot, the two entities reconfiguring their shapes, the eagle altering its shape too as it descended, and as they converged, they seamlessly formed a robot. A bit over fifty feet in height, and while the different animal features were clearly present, it didn't look like a gestalt. It held itself comfortably, almost agilely; it was symmetrical…how in the hell could a gestalt be symmetrical? And it was…the only word Obsidian could thing of was beautiful. A feral savage beauty, but beautiful, nonetheless. His blue optics shined out of his tan face, one more human-like than most Cybertronian faces, and he glared at Obsidian a moment before turning to face the far larger Devastator.

"Ha!" Devastator's belted laugh soared over the desert landscape. "Devastator knows this trick! Won't fool Devastator twice!"

"No, it's not…" another shot to his leg shut him up. "Argh!"

"Convoy wants to talk to you, be thankful for that!" The blue Maximal taunted. "But we're going to let the big green monster remain blissfully ignorant."

Obsidian turned his head, and watched as this new, smaller gestalt leapt into the air in a way was impossible for a gestalt, a broadsword made up of the weapons of the individual components raised over its head, gripped tightly in both hands, the leap carrying it higher than the suddenly nervous Devastator, and as it came down it swung the broadsword down heavily, impacting hard against the crown of Devastator's head. The power of the swing and sharpness of the irradiated blade were such that were it not for the enhanced multi-spark durability of the Constructicon gestalt, the green giant would have been cut in half head to crotch. As it stood, the blow put a grotesque dent in the center of Devastator's forehead and sent the eighty-foot-tall Decepticon toppling backward to the ground, at best stunned for a bit, at worst, out of commission for the remainder of this slagging quagmire of a battle. Fortunately, Devastator was stirring and groaning, he would be getting up at some point, but…

"Obsidian!" Pax called out to him. "Enough! Strika forced me to kill her, please don't force me to do the same to you."

"Liar!" Obsidian snarled as he glared at Orion.

"It's not a lie." Orion replied. "I'm sure you know it's not a lie, nobody knew Strika better than you."

He was right. The Decepticons that watched it happen did report as though Orion was reluctant to fight her, that the killing blow seemed instinctive. And pushing forward despite the cause being lost…that was Strika. "I do know." Obsidian climbed to his feet. Orion's pet wolf raised his weapon, but Orion waved him down. Standing wobbly as the individual fighting went on around them, Obsidian gave Orion Pax an appraising gaze, one far softer than the one he had fixed on the youth earlier. So young, and already so brilliant. "You outplayed Megatron at the Grand Convocation."

"I knew he could not be trusted." Orion humbly replied.

"You outplayed…Strika." Obsidian almost choked on her name.

"I…I read her books." Again, with the humility, but a tinge of genuine sadness this time.

"You've outplayed me."

Orion looked down. "I knew you were here on this planet. I knew you were intent on hunting me. I knew you were hurting, and that hurt would make you less careful." Orion looked back up and met Obsidian's gaze. "And while I don't regret it, I take no pride in admitting that I took full advantage of those things."

The chaos of battle still raging around them, Devastator was back on his feet, he was bigger, stronger, and more durable than the smaller animal gestalt, but he was too slow to touch it, while the three-bot combiner landed non-debilitating but still powerful blows at will. The triplechangers were getting the better of their Maximal attackers, but the goal of the Maximals was to keep them too busy to attack the precious Convoy, and in that they were successful. Obsidian looked intently into Orion's blue optics, a tiny hint of green deep within, underneath the blue, hinting at the powerful green spark housed in his chest. "I…I knew Arlon Pax. I fought by his side many times in the war against Galvatron." Galvatron, a vicious cruel monster who he now counted as an ally. "Arlon was noble, and selfless, and kind, and wise." Obsidian looked down at the ground. Remembering the nobility of lost friends, seeing a protégé of one of them who exceeded all these friends, and contrasting all their actions against the choices he's made in recent years. So many poor choices. "He sacrificed his life. Not to save your life, but to endorse you. He saw you; he saw your ideals; he saw your potential future as being worth it. As being worth his life." Obsidian nodded to Orion. "He was my friend. And my friend was right." Obsidian looked back down at the ground. "I wish we had met you before we met…him. I wish Arlon had sent the invitation, and not Militus Macht."

"Terminus told me about the time he found you and Strika mentoring Megatron in Castle Macht." Orion nodded. "Unfortunately, I never had any ambition to be competent at battle strategy until I was forced to be competent at battle strategy. Arlon never had cause to send an invitation on my behalf."

"Competent." Obsidian chuckled. Slagging kid. The humor faded; a darkness came over him. "What might have been." There would always be more wars, he would have opportunities to redeem his tarnished legacy, but without Strika it just didn't matter. Nothing mattered. It was time. The blasters in his wrists powered up and he lunged.

"Wolfang, n…" the command came too late, and even if it hadn't the shot to his cranial shell would still likely have been fired.

Obsidian hit the ground hard. "I'm sorry Convoy, but…" the sound was distance, all sounds were. Distant and fading.

"He left you no choice." Orion interrupted, a sincere attempt to put his soldier's mind at ease.

Obsidian could vaguely hear a different noise, another voice coming through the communication channel. "Obsidian's dead, Decepticons retreat." There seemed to be joy in Starscream's voice.

He could then dully feel the movement of his body being adjusted, cradled in Orion Pax's arms, the youth's voice soothingly entering his fading audio receptors. "Obsidian, hero of Cybertron, go be with your beloved Strika."

000

Grimlock

Blaster's vague communique to all Autobots on Cybertron annoyed him, which seemed to confirm the reason for Prime's equally annoying lobbying a couple days earlier. The war with the sparkeaters was over, they were on call and ready to lock horns with the Decepticons, and now Blaster wanted them ready to take up arms against the government forces as soon as they got the call to do so. Grimlock didn't mind fighting, and while the Autobots were not what he'd consider 'his people', of the three groups, they were the most sympatico with he and his team. But it seemed Pax was picking a fight with Prime, and this brewing conflict made it so Grimlock had to jump at any opportunity he could while opportunities still existed. Planning wasn't his forte even with adequate timing, so smash and grab it was.

So far, they'd encountered no resistance as they made their way down to the lower levels, being led there a couple days before by Guardian Prime had likely greased the wheels a bit, but they wouldn't get much farther into the bowels of the Capitol Spire without arousing attention from someone. They were fine with that, he, Slag and Snarl were looking to meet a bit of resistance to what they needed to do. Swoop, ever the voice of reason and caution…at least for their squad, was fine coordinating their rapid escape from this place, while Sludge was a bit irritated at having to wait with him outside as back-up should he, Slag and Snarl need it while making their escape with their…prize.

Finally, as they approached a set of double doors with big, intimidating guards on either side, their free pass came to an end. "Excuse me, Grimlock is it?" One of the guards stepped forward as the other gripped his rifle a tad tighter. "Prime didn't inform me of any return visit."

"Bureaucratic red tape always tangles shit up." Grimlock replied as he continued marching forward toward the guards and the doors they were protecting.

"I hate the fucking public sector." Slag grumbled as he and Snarl marched lockstep on either side of their squad leader. "Inept shitbags finding jobs in the one area where they don't have to worry about competition."

"You know their budgeting philosophy rewards managers who use up their entire budget and reduces future budgets for those that use less than what they're allocated." Snarl chimed in. "They penalize efficiency and reward waste."

"Look guys, you're allowed your opin…" the guard raised his hand to halt them as he spoke, but Grimlock lunged forward and removed him from consciousness with a thunderous right cross. His comrade shot forward, but Slag intercepted him and with a blow almost as impressive as Grimlock's, knocked that guard out as well.

"Move!" Grimlock roared. "Clock's ticking, we have two minutes at best!"

"You're the one that's seen this guy!" Snarl shot back as they sprinted down the hallway toward another set of double doors, these also guarded and far more reinforced than the last set of doors. "Slag, if you would."

"On it!" Slag roared as he transformed mid-sprint into his Tribuccinagaleadrac, a hulking three-horned quadruped and galloped at over fifty miles per hour, bashing through one guard and the doors. The other guard leapt out of the way and turned to see how his comrade had faired, only to have Grimlock's massive black fist smash the back of his head and turn the lights out. The three Autobots barreled into a vast laboratory, laid out across the center of the floor was a huge yellow train with a crane on top, and next to it was a naval battleship.

"Trepan, front and center!" Grimlock yelled out through the expanse as his optic scanned over a dozen scientists cowering behind their equipment before seeing the white, gray, and red goggle-bearing scientist at a terminal seventy yards away. "Hey there, Doc. You're coming with us."

"Who…" Trepan sputtered, but a huge hover-tank shot out from the shadows and rammed into Slag's flank, knocking the beast over. The tank then transformed into a massive robot.

"Snarl, grab Trepan!" Grimlock roared as he and the similarly sized robot began trading blows. It seemed evenly matched at first, but Grimlock's power started to overtake the unknown robot with the egg-shaped torso, and after Snarl had grabbed Trepan and was making his way out with Slag next to him, Grimlock finally pounded the other robot to the ground. "This is taking way too long!" Grimlock roared as he charged after his comrades and their prisoner.

"You're the one having trouble taking out a science dork!" Snarl yelled out as he ran through the hallway with the squirming Trepan held tightly under his right arm.

"Piss off, Snarl!" Grimlock growled as he caught up. A cluster of six guards rounded the corner ahead and started charging the kidnappers, but Slag, still in bestial form, battered through four of them. Grimlock transformed into his dracosaurian mode, specifically a metal form of a Venatordracus, and charged after the remaining two guards, making quick work of them, and allowing Snarl to sprint by with his captive unhindered. The three Autobots and their prisoner encountered a dozen more guards before making it to the lobby, where Sludge was struggling with another half dozen guards, keeping them occupied so as not to confront Grimlock and the others. "Sludge, quit screwing around with them and let's get out of here!"

Slag swiped a couple of guards away from Sludge, and the four of them barreled out of the building with Trepan en-tow to find a transport hovering a few feet off the ground. Snarl ran to an opening side door and tossed Trepan into the craft, following him in while the other members of the squad, two being in beast mode, followed him in. "Get us out of here, Swoop!" The massive, horrifying head of Grimlock's dracosaur mode belted out toward the cockpit.

"Yeah yeah." Swoop grumbled as he piloted the craft into the sky, but once out of the square he lowered it to zoom through the still devastated buildings of Cybertropolis. "Still making our way to the catacombs?"

"Only Autobots have more than a passing familiarity with those." Snarl replied as he watched Grimlock's monstrous face come within inches of Trepan's. "The one area Prime's troops can't effectively follow us."

Grimlock stretched his mouth back to reveal his blade-like teeth to Trepan. "Good to meet you, Trepan. Please inform me of what you'll need to perform Matrix-caliber enhancements to my team and I."

"Matrix-caliber enhancements?" Trepan nearly yelled back the clarifying question with wide optics. "That's what this is about? I thought you were defecting, or Decepticon spies, or something that'd make you idiots becoming wanted criminals worthwhile! Like you knew what I was working on and wanted to sabotage it…granted, too late to really stop what I've started, but at least that would be some sort of sensible motivation! But no, you've become traitors that'll be hunted down with extreme prejudice just so that you can have some physical upgrades? Are you fucking insane?"

"Yes, clearly we must be." Grimlock grumbled. "Does that make doing as we command more, or less the right course of action."

"Rossum helmed the Matrix-caliber upgrade project after we found Jhiaxus's notes on it, not me!" Trepan shot back. "I'm the Titan brain maker, you dolts!"

"So, you're telling us that you're useless?" Snarl asked casually, prompting Trepan to nervously glance at him before turning back to seen Grimlock's snarling face, now somehow with a type of drool flowing between the fangs.

"No, wait." Trepan sputtered. "Look, yes, not my area of expertise, but Rossum is a colleague, we've shared ideas and work, and yes, I have a pretty firm understanding of what's involved. Granted my expertise is more neurological, but that's far more complex than enhancing frames, spark energy transference, and cyber-musculatures." The captive scientist gave a weak smile and a shrug. "Frankly, what I'd be doing for you would be a huge step down from what I normally do."

"Coming up on an entrance to the catacombs." Swoop called out. "We'll be touching down momentarily."

"Goooooood." Grimlock growled ominously at Trepan, seemingly ignoring Swoop's announcement. "So, what'll you need?"

000

Skywarp

Another bolt of lightening streaked across the black, rainy sky, wind and tiny pellets of rain buffeting the trees around the group of Decepticons but having no impact on the ten giant metal sentinels standing at attention in the mud as they watched a small spacecraft lower to the mud in front of them. A hatch opened, a ramp lowered, and two alien vehicles came rolling down onto the mud below. Alien probably wasn't the correct word as they were currently on this Earth, and these vehicles were identical to vehicles native to this world. Skywarp didn't know enough about this planet to have guessed what their proper designations were, fortunately Starscream had shared the details with them recently enough so that Skywarp had not forgotten them yet. The long blue truck, called a GMC Minuteman, which was designed as a carrier and launcher of missiles for the American military, was Soundwave. The camouflage green, brown and gray treaded tank, specifically a M60A1, also used primarily by the American military, was the native shell-form selected by their leader, the Mighty Megatron. As they reached the ground, five motorcycles of varying colors shot out after them.

All the vehicles stopped before the ten Decepticon fliers and the two large vehicles transformed to the tall hulking robots Skywarp had expected them to be, while the five motorcycles transformed into Rumble, Frenzy, Ravage, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw. Megatron looked around at their environment as Laserbeak swooped over and took perch upon his shoulder, he noted a coastline overlooking a rocky sea in the distance behind the ship, a small human town, a…Mexican town, yes, they were in the country called Mexico, the small town a few miles to west of them, and jungle surrounding this clearing they were in. "Why did you select this location for us to meet, Starscream?" Megatron grumbled over the sounds of the storm they were in.

"It's symbolic, Lord Megatron." That self-important fop replied with a stupid grin on his face. Skywarp loved flying with Starscream, he was the best in the sky. Well, prior to running into that big white Autobot, he was the best. But dealing with him on the ground was irritating. Such an arrogant twit. "You see, sixty-six million years ago life on this planet was larger, more powerful, and far more interesting. But an asteroid impacted here, in this very location, and that signaled the end of the dominant life on this world. The idiot humans native to this planet don't know this, they really have no idea of what killed their draco…excuse me, they call them dinosaurs, they have no idea of what killed the dinosaurs of their world, which unfortunately means that even if we decide to share the location of your landing with them, they wouldn't understand the symbolic nature."

"I am neither a human, nor an idiot, Starscream, yet I fail to understand the symbolism of this remote and overly organic location, or how some random extinction event might be pertinent." Megatron growled.

"A landing at this location signaled the end of the dominant life on this world tens of millions of years ago, and today another landing at this site will do it again." Starscream arrogantly related.

Megatron just shook his head in annoyance. "Starscream, it is you that is the idiot. You chose a location for Soundwave, his minions and I to touch down that's hundreds of miles from our base on this planet, knowing that our shell modes are ground vehicles, all for some simple, pointless symbolism that I couldn't care less about and nobody else is aware of."

Starscream shrugged. "Fine, I missed the mark, my mistake. But no real harm is done, Astrotrain has been outfitted with expansion technology well beyond that used by us Seekers to accommodate his terrestrial shell mode. Human locomotives are quite a bit larger than the vast majority of Cybertronians, so we made it so that he could really stretch out. This expansion extends to his orbital shuttle mode as well, and he can expand large enough to carry the seven of you with ease while still retaining a level of proportionate mass to be durable enough for most things that could be thrown at him."

Megatron turned his head to Astrotrain, who nodded his affirmation, prompting Megatron to turn back to the cockpit window of the ship that had transported him to Earth and nod. At that whoever was piloting the craft lifted it off the ground and it departed into the black sky to return to Cybertron. "You're not off to an impressive start, Starscream." Megatron announced as he started marching toward Astrotrain, who transformed to star-shuttle mode and expanded.

"I'm more theatrical than you are, Mighty Megatron." Starscream replied with a hint of defiance in his voice as he followed Megatron into Astrotrain. The spoiled little shit was going to ride back with the others, that jerk. "That's the root of this evenings disconnect. But the other setbacks on Helios Three are the fault of Strika and Obsidian. Had you left me in charge…"

"Shut up Starscream." Megatron snarled. "The Ferrotaxis exists, thereby making this planet too important for me not to deal with personally." Soundwave and his minions entered Astrotrain as well, the ramp raised, the aft door sealed, and he lifted to the sky. The other eight fliers transformed and followed him into the scenic but ineffectual storm.

000

Ultra Magnus

The shrouded slab exited the shuttle first, being pulled by two technicians that had run up the shuttle ramp the moment it touched the ground and retrieved it. They were to bring it to the mortuary, but Guardian Prime would want to look upon the fallen and tarnished hero before they took the frame to be cleaned up, just as he had with Strika. Following the technicians and the slab down the ramp was the Autobot Commander, Orion Pax, and all stopped and silently allowed Guardian Prime his examination and final goodbye. The Prime of Cybertron stepped forward and pulled away the shimmering metallic satin covering to reveal the destroyed frame of Obsidian, the charred parts that had been blasted off of his body laid to the side on the slab. "It should not have ended this way."

"I wish I could have found another way." Orion Pax said solemnly.

"This ending was Obsidian's choice, just as it had been Strika's." Ultra Magnus consoled Orion. "You did what they forced you to do."

"Despite their regrettable choices at the end of their lives, both Obsidian and Strika will be interned as honored as heroes of Cybertron." Prime said as he peered down intently at the one remaining blackened optic of Obsidian. "The good does not wash away the bad, nor does the bad wash away the good, but in their cases, the good outweighs the bad by a large enough margin." With that he slid the shroud back over the corpse and nodded to the technicians to take the slab away. As they departed Prime turned to Orion. "I assume you've been briefed about what Grimlock, Slag, Snarl, Sludge and more than likely Swoop have done."

"I have, my Prime." Orion nodded. "They have not responded to summons from myself or the Autobot leadership on Cybertron and are therefore fugitives wanted by the Autobots as well as the government forces."

Prime looked down, nodded, and waved them to follow him to a side conference room, continuing the conversation as they walked. "I fully understand and support your desire to keep the Autobots a separate entity during the war with the sparkeaters. It was a different time, you faced a different enemy, and you were correct, large, consolidated forces would have just made easier targets for the sparkeaters. But now, in our current era, facing our current enemy, I think we should reconsider that separation."

"I am definitely willing to discuss it, Guardian Prime." Orion replied as they entered the small meeting room that was just off the landing platform that Orion had arrived on. "And I am not opposed to a consolidation, provided the goals and values of the Autobots and the Government are aligned."

Guardian Prime displayed a knowing smile as he took a seat on one end of the table, nodding for Orion to take the opposite seat and leaving Magnus to take a seat between them. "Shall we get right to it then?"

"I would like that Prime." Orion replied.

"What is it you fear?" Prime asked. "What do you feel that our organizations may not be aligned on?"

Orion paused, almost hesitant to state what was on his mind, but only for the shortest of moments. "I am apprehensive about what you plan to do with the Ferrotaxis should you recover it, or should you gain the ability to rebuild it."

Guardian Prime paused this time, not apprehensive, just wanting to find the best way to phrase what he wanted to convey. "Twelve hundred millennia ago word of Jhiaxus's technological wonder to some, horror to most, was brought to my attention. We had been enjoying a golden age that had lasted so long that most of the population at the time couldn't fathom an environment where there wouldn't always be plenty, where there wouldn't always be safety and security. The problem is that safety and security are not a natural state. Reproduction is a necessary manifestation for lifeforms because those lifeforms are supposed to die. Organics age and die off even in ideal circumstances, but we Cybertronians, our bodies are so robust, our sparks are theoretically immortal, and yet we normally find ways to die off, so our planet modestly reproduces our numbers, the pulses vary, but on average every fifteen years we have another birthquake that brings hundreds of new living beings into our world."

"You two are so young, and especially in this post sparkeater-war world of ours the idea of several hundred new mouths to feed coming into existence every decade and a half seems too small and rare. But after seven million years of prosperity, those numbers add up. Nobody dies, new life emerges, and those of us at the top, those of us with access to our population numbers, our energon acquisition numbers, our habitation numbers, well, we start to hear the clock ticking louder with each new pulse of Vector Sigma."

Guardian Prime paused, and Orion took the opportunity to chime in. "My Prime, I recognize the need for expansion, for you then and for us again at some point, but what the Ferrotaxis does."

"It's a high price." Guardian Prime conceded. "It's a horrible price. It sickens me, it will always sicken me, as well it should. But ultimately, it is the duty of the Prime to do what's best for Cybertron and Cybertronians."

"But there are viable alternatives." Pax replied.

"Alternatives, yes." Prime gave him an incredulous look. "Viable? No. You've been to Junk. You lived there," Prime smiled at the youth "you've betrayed no secrets, but with what I know, it's obvious that it was there that you found sanctuary from Sentinel. And having lived among the Junkions for fourteen years, you know that what they did was survival, and often that wasn't achievable for some, but even at best, what they had was insufficient for the people of Cybertron."

"That's not a good example, Prime." Orion countered. "Junkion was poorly placed for a Cybertronian colony, it was too far from its star, there were no native fuel sources. But a situation like Eukaris, where there are accessible and abundant fuel sources and Cybertronians live in harmony with the native flora and fauna,"

"It's not as harmonious as you seem to think, Orion." Prime interrupted. "And the fuel is still not energon. What we can make of the native fuel sources of most planets is barely more palatable than the putrid swill they serve on Junk. But with the Ferrotaxis, those fuel sources can be refined to energon caliber food and fuel. Hell, as demonstrated by Helios Three, sometimes they can produce something more potent than baseline energon."

"Prime, you are more than just the leader and guardian of the citizens of Cybertron, you need to be their moral compass as well." Orion countered. "You're guiding us toward a course of action that will end worlds, that will exterminate countless species, many of whom are fully sentient, just so that we can expand and find sustenance that is more palatable. That is too high a price for mere comfort."

Prime smiled. "Is that Arlon I hear?" He chuckled and shrugged. "I mean that as a compliment. But it's obvious that such sentiment wasn't obtained on your precious Earth. I know you haven't been there long, but in your time there have you had an opportunity to meet a human of Mator ethnicity? A member of the Lache People? A Koningo? An Emishi? A Wudjari? A Beothuk?"

"Obviously I have not had the opportunity to encounter extinct people. I'm sorry my Prime, had I given the impression that the humans were to be our moral compass?" Orion shrugged. "Yes, they have wiped ethnic groups from their own species from existence. They have brought extinction upon other species of their world. And yes, they have done so often for the purposes of making their own lives more comfortable or expanding an empire. Perhaps in that sense you may see activating the Ferrotaxis on Earth as justified. I do not. And if we were to do it, what moral defense would we have a right to use were we faced with a superior species suddenly eyeing Cybertron?"

"Superior species?" Guardian Prime chuckled but made a show of changing his expression and taking a more sincere tone. "If someone else came for Cybertron, regardless of who they were, any sort of moral defense would be irrelevant. I don't mean to sound cynical, though perhaps I do. Tarnishing your view of the universe is unpleasant, Orion, but it is necessary to make you the leader you're destined to be. I wouldn't go so far as to say might makes right, but nature itself rewards the creatures with the brawn and strength of will to take what they want and need. And we are nothing if not extensions of nature."

"I disagree." Orion stared resolutely at his leader. "We have the ability, no, the responsibility to be much more than that."

"Orion, look…"

"Enough." Orion interrupted whatever Prime had planned to say. "Unless you genuinely believe that whatever you have to say is going to make me believe that killing worlds should be acceptable, it's best that whatever it is about to come out of your mouth is left unsaid."

"That's a questionable tone to be taking with your Prime, young Pax." Prime stated sternly.

"You're trying to justify the unjustifiable." Orion replied, showing no sign of intimidation. "If my tone was inappropriate for addressing a Prime, then my apologies, but I cannot continue to rationally debate something that is so blatantly evil as though it weren't. As though it should be a viable option for good and reasonable individuals."

"And your vast experience is sufficient for determining what positions are right for the Prime of Cybertron to be taking?" Guardian Prime belted out sarcastically.

"How much experience is necessary to know that exterminating every lifeform from one of the most fertile planets we've come across is wrong?" Pax shot back confidently. "Especially for things we won't be short of for millions of years."

"Those millions of years will certainly pass, Pax." Prime shot back. "We would be fools to wait until then to start formulating our plans."

Pax shook his head. "I'm not suggesting we wait; we should seek out new worlds to expand to. But offer to live harmoniously with the native lifeforms, and perhaps in the countless centuries of exploration we find a dead world where use of the Ferrotaxis would be viable. Heck, the rate at which the humans are going, in a few thousand years native life on Earth may be wiped out without any help from us." The young Autobot Commander leveled his gaze at Prime and peered intently at him. "But we will not be the cause of a dead Earth."

"You keep punctuating your arguments with assertions of what we should, will, or most annoyingly, will not do." Prime peered back with equal intensity. "Autobot Commander or not, these are not decisions for you to be making. I am the Prime, not you. Unless you seek to usurp my authority." Guardian Prime leaned back, leaving the accusation to hang in the air. Magnus had been uncomfortable throughout the entire exchange, but things were ratcheting up, and the likelihood that Pax would be leaving here in chains and kept in the brig was increasing by the utterance.

Pax to his credit seemed unphased by the accusation. "At no point in my life have I ever wanted to be Prime. I have never been interested in authority, but life seems to be intent on giving it to me, and I've done my best to wield the authority that I have been given in a moral and just way in the service of those I've been entrusted to lead. But I never asked to be a police officer, I never asked to be Commander of the Autobots, and I certainly will never ask to be Prime. But it isn't authority or a lack of it that determines what actions I choose to take. I will not let you kill that planet, and if the Autobots revoke my title, my stance will not change. If House Pax revokes my right to bear their name, my stance will not change. If you brand me an outlaw, and all Cybertron cheers you for it, my stance will not change. If need be, I will stand alone, a nameless nobody, hopelessly protecting aliens of a distant world from the greatest hero in history and the planet loyal to him."

Prime leaned forward and smiled at the young Autobot. "But you won't be standing alone. Tell me of your mentor."

"Arlon?" Orion asked.

"No, not Arlon." Prime snapped, his patience waning further.

Orion nodded knowingly. "I first met him as A-Three, the Polyhistor of Tyger Pax, when I was a few days old. More recently it was revealed to me that he has gone by several other names in his long life, including one you were extremely familiar with, Atrium of the Crystal City. But even that was an assumed name to hide his identity. He was born Alpha of House…"

"Yes, I know who he was." Prime snarled. "A brilliant scientist, a brilliant strategist, a brilliant philosopher, and someone that possessed most of the tools to be a brilliant leader, but simply lacked the desire and the struts to actually lead. Someone much like you. Oh, and he was a traitor. It's starting to seem that you may have that in common with him as well."

"Alpha Trion's loyalty is and always was to Cybertron." Pax replied, the name sending a wave of disbelief through Ultra Magnus. "I don't agree with the actions he took, but I fully understand his reason for taking them."

"His reasons for trying to murder his Prime?" Prime snapped. "His former friend and ally!"

"He did not try to murder you." Orion replied evenly. "He sabotaged your ship, he rigged it to put you and the crew into stasis. It…" the young robot looked down sadly at the top of the table, "it didn't go to plan, but his intent was not to kill you or any of the crew."

"And yet hundreds starved to death!" Prime growled furiously. "There may not have been an energon blade clutched in his fist, but he is a murderer! As are your kinsman and their Maximals who abetted his murder by neglect on that watery mudball!"

Pax looked back up and met his angry Prime's gaze. "I will support you in making them answer for their actions. But your intent to activate the Ferrotaxis on Earth verifies your intent, and to many, justifies their actions."

"To many?" Prime laughed. "Who, your humans? Cybertronians stand with me, Orion Pax. That your precious Alpha Trion stopped me a million years ago only adds to the tragedy. Whatever argument there is that can be made about humans being sentient beings didn't exist when I first set out to reformat that world."

"That's not true!" Orion countered immediately. "Sentience does not require civilization! Protohumans of one million years ago were self-aware, they were sentient!" Orion leaned back. "And throwing that word around wouldn't sway me even if what you said was true. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, but the right to exist, the bar for that is far lower than sentience."

"Enough!" Prime snarled. "It's now I that has exceeded my threshold for listening to what I consider to be nonsense. This is the same thing as your humans paving over at forest to build a city, nothing more. Perhaps they're sentient, perhaps they're even what the Galactic Council would call higher functioning, but they're still just vermin when compared to us, inferior in every conceivable way. By your own estimates they've been sentient for at least a million years, yet they only developed civilization in the last ten millenniums."

"Yes, they had a slow start." Orion nodded. "But they've gone from being reliant on steam power to splitting the atom in under a century. There is no debate as to whether they're higher functioning or not."

"And that makes them better or worse?" Prime posed. "I've been reliant upon you and your Autobots since returning here for a reason, one I'm about to share with you now. We mechanical lifeforms are a rarity in this universe devoted to organic life, and like with minority groups in most societies, we're misunderstood, feared, and hated. Higher functioning organics of this very world, our brethren, enslaved us, murdered us en masse to keep our numbers manageable, and engineered a race of monsters to eradicate us when we finally revolted against them. And they're still out there, conspiring against us. I've been leading a campaign to stymie their efforts to retake our world and free our enslaved brothers and sisters that they still possess." Prime pointed to the southward facing white battle station off in the distance. "Feel free to ask Metroplex about his experiences with higher functioning organics."

"The humans are not Quintessons." Pax replied.

"No, but they're not different from them." Prime responded. "The Quintessons weren't acting alone. That Galactic Council I mentioned a moment ago, they were presented with proof of the crimes of Quintessons, not just against us, but against other organic species and worlds, crimes that included planetcide. The response of the Galactic Council was to overlook these heinous crimes because they saw the Quintessons as being preferable to us. They saw the Quintessons as being allies against us. Allies to aid them in ending the perceived threat we pose. The perceived threat organics will always see us posing."

"So, because of the poor judgment exercised by the leadership of the Galactic Council you seek to make that perceived threat valid and real!" Pax shot back. "You seek to pre-empt the possibility of humanity developing an anti-mechanoid bias in the future by exterminating them now?"

Prime chuckled. "Pax, I couldn't care less about humanity. They're insects, I just want that planet."

Orion Pax turned to Ultra Magnus, and while there was uncertainty within him, Orion could see that Magnus felt more in line with Orion than with the Prime. Orion then turned to Guardian Prime and stood up. "Am I under arrest, my Prime?"

Prime looked up at Orion and chuckled. "No Pax, you're not under arrest." He then looked at Magnus and shook his head before turning back to the Autobot Commander. "I can't help but like you Orion, even after this argument. Hell, I think I like you more because of this argument. I love your spirit, and the points you made aren't easy to dismiss, that's for fucking sure." Prime stood up and smiled at Orion. "But I am right, what we are going to do does need to be done. If you wish to select individual humans to be relocated on another world, I would be open to that. We've already created a genetic database of the various species of Helios Three so that should the opportunity arise, we can recreate those lifeforms on some other environment. We are not without mercy, Orion. Please think on this course of action you feel you need to take; I pray that you soon recognize its folly and come around to my way of thinking. When that happens, please know that I will be here waiting for you." He shrugged. "And I'll have a lot more unwanted authority to send your way."

Orion's optics dimmed. "I thank you my Prime, but I will not be changing my mind."

The smile and mirth faded from Guardian Prime, but there was no anger, only sadness. "I know, Orion. Go home, to that Earth that you're choosing over Cybertron."