A/N: If you haven't been following the Rise Extras, I heartily recommend that you do so. The Extras add another perspective or six to the Rise universe. Extra 11 will help you understand this chapter.

23. Torsion

It felt as though my Spark had stopped mid-pulse. I barely registered the weapon aimed at me—my full attention was fixed on Ramrod. My sparring partner, my berthmate, my most trusted friend. Ramrod, who hated his former master, merciless when battling Autobots, who came to my aid when I needed him most… a spy.

I stared at the top of his helm; his optics remained on Highbrow's pedes.

Look at me, slaggit… look at me, show me some sign that this isn't true. Look at me!

"Look who it is," Highbrow said, forcing me to tear my gaze from Ramrod and focus on the immediate situation. I was on my own and outnumbered. A high-ranking Autobot had me in his sights. Any klik he could terminate me, if his finger placed a bit more pressure on the trigger. I braced for it, wondering how quickly I could dodge and return fire—but there was the question of Ramrod, what I would do with him once I defeated Highbrow…

"We hadn't expected such distinguished company, had we, slave?" Ramrod didn't look up. "The commander of the Decepticons, walking right into my hands."

He didn't shift the blaster, but I felt a flicker of hope. He'd made the same mistake as the Triumvirate: rather than finish it, he chose to gloat. He wouldn't terminate me without warning. I had some time, but I couldn't think of how to get out of this without harming…

"Concerned about him?" Highbrow held his blaster steady with one hand while he patted Ramrod's helm. "You needn't worry. Your friend hasn't betrayed you. He never existed."

What?

"The mech you thought you knew was no more than programming, code I wrote and implanted. All these decavorns you've been deceived. Remember how much you told him, sharing all of your concerns, your plans, your weaknesses with him? You have a loose vocalizer in the berth."

Slag, he was right. I'd been able to speak with Ramrod about anything. He was there when I was most vulnerable, in that post-overload haze when my processor was sluggish and my limbs were weak. He had access to me at all times—his position as Trannis's lieutenant allowed him entry to the Command Center, he knew my usual haunts, and he knew the code to enter my quarters. How easy it would have been for him to terminate me, whether by some "accident" while sparring, by quietly disconnecting a vital fuel line while I recharged… or by poisoning my energon.

Then why had he come back to save me? And what did Highbrow mean by "programming?"

"I don't believe you," I said, stalling.

"You could believe that your dear friend betrayed you, if you'd rather. Think of him as a shell… a disguise to allow him to infiltrate the Decepticons. You've never known him as the slave he truly is."

I looked down at Ramrod to see him finally looking back, but the moment our optics met he bowed his head again. Highbrow seemed to find this amusing.

"He is shy, my slave, nothing like the one you knew. But he will obey my every command. Won't you, slave?"

I saw Ramrod shudder.

"Ah, Commander, I'm afraid that our chat must end here. I was sent here to eliminate you, and while I may have failed earlier this orn, you will not be so lucky this time."

His smirk was dark and cruel, his blue optics narrowed in satisfaction. But at the same time, I noticed that he had let his blaster drop ever so slightly; a few astroinches, but it was enough. In the split-klik it took for him to raise his weapon, I'd already begun to move, twisting sideways as he fired and bringing up my own cannons. I stopped at the last moment, canceling the firing sequence almost too late, freezing at the sight of Ramrod standing in front of Highbrow, blocking my shot.

After a few kliks, the Autobot laughed.

"I know your weakness, Nova." His casual use of my designation made me bare my denta in a snarl. "You wouldn't harm him, even to kill me? He is not your friend. He never was. But this interests me. What will you do when you have no choice?

"I have a better idea. Slave, terminate him."

I took a step backwards.

"You won't fight him? Loyalty is not a Decepticon trait. I assure you that he will show no such mercy."

Slowly, jerkily, Ramrod straightened his arm and detached his weapon. I took another step back.

"Ramrod," I tried. "Don't do this."

He met my optics, expression apologetic, before throwing himself at me.

Instinct saved me. I darted to one side, seizing my swords, but he knocked one from my hand. I stumbled backwards from the force of his strike—he wasn't holding back. He came at me again, but I refused to attack in turn.

"Ramrod," I gasped. "You don't have to do this."

"How do you know?" he said quietly. His vicious attack belied his tone. "My designation…" He landed a blow on my helm and my next block was dazed, sloppy. "…is Torsion. I'm not him."

Faster than I could predict, his leg hooked around mine, flinging me to the ground. My other sword skittered away, coming to a halt well out of my reach. A moment later he landed solidly on top of me, his staff pressing down against my delicate throat components. I struggled fruitlessly as Highbrow laughed.

"Excellent, slave. Finish him."

The pressure increased, making alerts flash in my vision. All I could do was grasp at his wrists, trying in vain to push back. He hesitated, optics widening.

"Terminate him, slave. That's an order!"

Ramrod—Torsion—remained still. I could feel his arms shaking. His optics met mine, wide and uncertain, confused and somewhat frightened. It was an expression I'd never seen on his face before.

"Finish him!"

One klik, then two, then he gave an agonized, shuddering growl and jerked away from me, spinning around and crossing the gap in three running strides, gaining enough force and momentum to knock Highbrow off his pedes. He shifted his grip on his staff and drove it down towards the Autobot's chest. I heard the crack of armor. Again he struck, the third the strongest of all. His master arched, sparks leaping from his chest in a blaze that threatened to short my optics.

When the nose stopped echoing, Highbrow lay still, chest dark, a pool of energon spreading from beneath him.

Torsion cast his staff aside and fell to his knees beside the graying shell, burying his face in his hands. I approached him cautiously, aware of the danger that remained.

"Ramrod?" I tried. He shook his head without uncovering his face. "…Torsion."

"I don't know," he said, vocalizer crackling. "I don't know any more. I killed my master. I don't know what to do."

"Torsion…"

"You want to talk to him. The other me." He looked pitifully up at me. "I'm not like him. He was always able to protect you and all I did was hurt you. I didn't want to hurt you, I never…"

He crawled to my pedes, bowing his head.

"I'll understand if you hate me. I betrayed you. I was weak. I'm nothing like Ramrod." His voice broke, but he carried on. "I would have terminated you. But I couldn't do it. Earlier, when you drank that energon, I couldn't follow through. So I made Ramrod go back to find you. I couldn't do it then and I couldn't do it just now. I was afraid of my master, but some part of Ramrod…"

I knelt with him. "Who are you?" I asked. This mech who had been hidden behind Ramrod was a stranger to me. "How did you get here?"

"I was Sparked a slave," he said. "I never knew freedom like… like he did. My master sent me here, but he implanted false memories of an escape into Ramrod. Ramrod didn't know they let him go. He 'remembered' running from them.

"He doesn't know about me. We were supposed to be completely isolated from each other. I was supposed to appear every so often to report back to my master, but I wasn't supposed to be conscious of what Ramrod did. I wasn't supposed to feel what he felt. But I saw and felt everything, or at least echoes of it. My master was an excellent programmer. He was good at what he did… too good. He programmed Ramrod to hate him and all Autobots. But he hated them so deeply that I did, too. He influenced me. He hated Highbrow, so I grew to hate my master as well.

"I don't think you understand how much you mean to him," he went on. "To me. To all Decepticons. You are everything to us… our leader. You've freed us… even I, a slave, could fight for you."

"You aren't a slave any more," I answered.

"But I am a traitor," he whispered. "It isn't Ramrod… only me. Erase me."

"What?"

"Soundwave can do it. Erase me. I'm not the one you want. I don't deserve to exist after betraying you. Erase me, leave only Ramrod. You deserve him."

I stared at him. Erase him from his own body when he'd never had a choice? But he'd had one choice, and he had chosen me. He had chosen the Decepticons… like I had.

"You are part of Ramrod," I said. "And he is part of you. He wouldn't be strong if you weren't. He hated his master because you did, not the other way around. Torsion, you are equal to him. You are a Decepticon. Come back with me."

His optics were wide and amazed. "You can't mean that. I'm not worthy to look at you, Nova… Commander…"

I took his face between my hands and kissed him gently, a gesture familiar to Ramrod and evidently to Torsion, too, judging by the way he leaned into it.

"Come back with me," I repeated.

That was enough for him. He nodded. My processor still spun when I tried to think of it. All this time, Torsion had been just under the surface, but he was nearly a separate entity from Ramrod. How would Ramrod react? How would it feel to not have total control of his own body?

As if on cue, Torsion broached the subject.

"He doesn't know about me," he said. "I can tell him. About this. About me. But he may take it poorly."

"It's best that he knows," I said. "You are the same."

"I'll try."

A klik or two later he started, looking up at me in a mixture of confusion and panic. I knew at once that it was Ramrod, though how I knew, I couldn't define.

"Nova! Primus, Nova, I'm so sorry… I had no idea about any of this… if I'd known, I would have—"

"You couldn't have known," I answered, trying to calm him. "I'm all right. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry? This… this slave inside me tried to kill you!"

"You can't blame him. He's you. He chose freedom, he chose our way."

He carefully gripped my shoulders, bumping his forehead against mine. "It was close, Nova. He could have killed you… I could have killed you."

"Enough. It's over, Ramrod." I sought to distract him. "Help me carry Highbrow back. We could retrieve some useful information from his processor."

However much I wanted to talk to him, Ramrod kept his distance for decacycles. I let him work it out with Torsion; although I missed him, he had to do it on his own.

Flamewar wanted to execute them both, regardless of which consciousness had been responsible; Soundwave merely gave me an inscrutable look; Lugnut was torn between Torsion's betrayal and Ramrod's obvious loyalty. Trannis and I discussed the matter privately. He spoke highly of Ramrod; his continued faith in my friend was obvious.

Although I wanted time to clear things up with Ramrod, the Autobots would no longer allow it. After our all-too-brief and rudely interrupted rest, they were on the move again, marching boldly into the northern reaches of Polyhex. It wasn't a clever move, but neither had been assaulting Tarn back at the beginning. They seemed unusually sure of themselves. Cautious after the debacle at Praxus, I took care to gather intelligence beforehand. The area was solidly ours, all nooks and underground passages accounted for, no reinforcements lurking nearby.

I remained uneasy, but there was nothing to be done. We could not let the Autobots venture unopposed into our hard-won territory.

The Decepticons flew to meet them.

Our aerial force arrived first, and Starscream led our trine for a look at the Autobots. They were arrayed in typical formation and in hearty, though not astonishing, numbers. Why would they make a move so daring unless they were certain to win?

/They have to be planning something,/ I reported back. /It's not like them./

I scanned the front ranks, but there was no sign of Optimus. I felt inwardly relieved—at least there was no chance of encountering him during this battle.

/Or the Senate's being stupid,/ Starscream commed. /Don't burn out your processor. Are we here to fight or admire the view?/

/I'll go with plan A./

I signaled the others and we swept down upon them.

The Autobots were foolish not to have adapted wings. It was almost pitiful how easily they were driven back by our fliers alone, and by the time the ground troops arrived we had battled them nearly to the border.

/Too late,/ I commed to the groundling generals. /The party's almost over!/

/What, none left for us?/ Flamewar answered. I could see her division below me.

/You can pick up the scraps. If they retreat beyond our borders, let them go, and aim to capture the stragglers, not terminate./

/How boring,/ she griped, but I knew she would obey.

Then came a whistling in the sky and all became chaos.

When I stopped tumbling tailfins over nosecone, I transformed to see a huge… something unfolding from its impact crater. It straightened to its full height, turning its massive head this way and that, then lifted an arm.

/What in the Pit is that?/ I broadcast. The answer came back almost simultaneously from every one of the High Command, accompanied by the occasional expletive.

"It's an Omega Sentinel," Starscream answered, transforming. "But I never thought they would reactivate one."

"What are our chances of defeating it?"

"Defeating it?" He laughed harshly. "You don't defeat a Sentinel. They're programmed to follow one directive only, and at the moment that directive is obvious."

"Then let's move!"

The Decepticons scattered as the Sentinel fired. The flash was so bright that it momentarily blinded me. The shockwave sent my gyros spinning. Only a crater remained where the blast had struck.

/Soundwave,/ I commed across the distance. /Connect me to Shockwave immediately./

/Affirmative./ A klik later Shockwave's frequency connected to mine.

/What is your command, Lord Nova?/

I transmitted my visual feed. /As you can see, we've got a situation. If they did it, then so will we. I know you've got one of these lying around—activate it and send it up here, now./

/But that would require immense amounts of energon—/

/This thing's between us and Kaon. I'm willing to risk a long, lingering deactivation rather than let this Sentinel crush us right now. Send our Sentinel now. That's an order!/

I turned my attention back to my Decepticons. The fliers were regrouping, but those on the ground were caught between the Sentinel and the rallying Autobots.

/Let's lay down some cover,/ I ordered. /The ground troops can focus on the Autobot army while the air force holds off the Sentinel. We've got better chances from up here./

I opened a private line to Starscream. /Does that monster have a weak point?/

/Let's experiment, shall we?/

/I bow to your expertise, Air Commander./

Starscream took command of the aerial units, comming his orders briskly and without panic.

/Alpha command, Delta command, attack the head. Beta, Gamma, try to destroy those guns. The rest of you, take out the sensor arrays on its back./

I had no trouble subordinating myself to Starscream in matters of aerial combat. Skywarp and I held close to his tail as he led an attack run on the Sentinel's face. At such close quarters, I saw that it was protected by a thick layer of reinforced glass. Our shots made little impact on its armor, and from what I heard coming across the open channels, only those attacking the sensor arrays were having much luck.

Its head swiveled around and my trine balked simultaneously—the turret now aimed at us looked deadly serious.

/Scatter!/ All the fliers in the vicinity obeyed Starscream's order without question.

I cleared the danger zone just in time, but the shockwave caught me and flung me into a spin. I hit the ground with a jarring crash, but nothing seemed seriously damaged. Starscream and Skywarp picked themselves up beside me, levering me upright. A twinge shot up my leg, but this gave me an idea.

"The legs," I said. "Aim for its legs. Perhaps we can knock it off-balance."

"I've got a better idea." /Aim for the legs. Try to knock it off-balance./

"Why didn't I think of that?" I quipped before we took off again.

Though the Sentinel was distracted from our ground troops, we now had to contend with its full attention as it swatted at the fliers swarming around it.

/We don't have to defeat it,/ I commed on the Decepticon frequency. /We only have to stop it from annihilating us until our backup arrives./

/Commander, ve've gotten the Autobots on the retreat again,/ Stryka reported.

/Good work, but I doubt they'll fully retreat as long as this thing is still-/

/Watch out!/

Hands grabbed me and a disconcerting moment later I was on the other side of Sentinel, Starscream and Skywarp alongside me, just as it brought its powerful cannons to bear in a devastating salvo. Frantic damage reports flew in from every division.

/We can't last much longer./

/It's taking us apart down here!/

/Shockwave! What's your status?/

/Your weapon is en route, my lord./

/Just a little while longer,/ I assured my troops. /Help is on the way./

/Uh, Nova? I think it's here!/

Skywarp teleported us again just as a second massive Sentinel landed where we'd been hovering.

/Everyone move—I don't think those things care about collateral damage./

Starscream and I supported Skywarp—two jumps carrying two other mechs had sapped his strength—as the other fliers headed for our position and the ground troops, Decepticon and Autobot alike, scrambled for cover.

The giants closed on each other. Each blow shook the ground, sending tremendous clashes at our audios. They crushed the battlefield in their duel, along with any mechs unfortunate enough to wind up under their pedes. The sheer devastation awed me.

At first, the two seemed evenly matched. They were equal in stature and strength, but it soon became apparent that Shockwave's had the upper hand. The one fighting for the Autobots had been worn down ever so slightly by my Decepticons. I couldn't tear my optics from them, not even when the flashing of their cannons broke my vision into static.

A tremendous fist thudded into the chestplate that had proven too thick for our blasts to penetrate. The Autobots' Sentinel bent with a groan of stressed metal. A faint moan of dismay came from the Autobot army while a ragged cheer rose from mine.

Like a toppling mountain, the Autobots' Sentinel keeled over and crashed to the ground. The one that remained stood still, huge and menacing, and soon the welcome call came across the comm.

/The Autobots are retreating. They're pulling out!/

Starscream patted my shoulder, condescending as ever, but there was genuine affection somewhere beneath. "Another victory."

I surveyed the swath of destruction left in the wake of the battling Sentinels, a vast stretch of shorn and twisted metal. It would be decavorns before anything could be built here. I shuttered my optics, but the desolation remained burned into my processor.

"Right. Victory."