"You know, I really wasn't expecting to get out of there," The minibot—who'd refused to give his name—said, walking slowly while Orion supported the bot's weight. The bot grimaced. "I would have remained with the others, fight to help my people escape, but what with my state," and here he waved at himself, "I wouldn't be able to help."
"I'm sure we'll be able to get them out too," Orion said, hoping with all his heart it would be true. "And more intel will be crucial for that."
"That's what we're doing this for, right? I wouldn't have gone out if it wasn't important." The minibot missed a step, pulling sharply on Orion's arm. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to trip."
"That's what I'm here for today, among other things."
"Can we— Can we sit for a little while?" The bot asked, wincing from the pain with each step that they took
Orion led the bot off-road to where a few small boulders stacked together, forming a place where they could both sit without much difficulty.
"Is it your joints that hurt, or something else? Maccadam, our medic, has been talking about his recent attempt to create a type of gel that soothes joint pain but still provides enough grit to keep it in place properly."
"I'm not injured, actually. Or, well, I am, that's why I'm limping, but that's not why I'm not going to fight. The reason I'm limping is because I had to go through a tunnel that even we would normally avoid going through. It was the only way out though, and there had been no time to dig it out further. The type of crystals that form in the rock here are very abrasive, and quite a bit got into my joints. That gel might help a little, actually, but I didn't have the time for a check-up, not for information this time-sensitive.
"No, the reason why I'm not going to fight is something else, actually. It's one of the more unusual habits of my frametype, as far as I know. At least, I haven't heard of anyone big undergoing the same process."
Orion hummed in acknowledgment as he scanned their surroundings, alert to any Quintesson approach.
"Uh-uh. Budding, the elders call it. We've got a specific section of coding that deals with it. Share sparks, and our bodies do the rest. Give it half a vorn, and you'll have a newspark on your hands."
"That's… very different from Vector Sigma."
"You tell me! But the Quintessons had scheduled me for some of their 'testing', and that would've been the end of me, so the others," the minibot's voice faltered there, "banded together to get me out of there."
"And now you're here, but they're still stuck in there." Orion sympathised.
"Yeah." The minibot looked away, the storm of emotions in their field running wild.
They came to the outer boundary of the structure. The minibot pointed out various sections of the building, providing information on Quintesson movements, the number and location of the slaves, the physical structure of the building and everything else he could think of.
It was late when they returned to the base.
—
The attack had gone well, the information enough to give them the edge they needed.
Orion hadn't gone. With Megatronus and Logos gone, someone had to hold down the fort, and while a capable warrior, he was more of a jack-of-all-trades than either of them. Megatronus could face a small legion on his own, and Logos was more than capable of coordinating an entire battlefield.
The group of newly freed mecha would arrive soon, and the base had been readied to take them in until they could be situated in the roles they'd like to be in, whether that was staying here or leaving for one of the territories further away.
—
"And?"
"They're both healthy, as far as I can tell. We've got no proper scanners, nor have I seen this particular process before, so it's up in the air whether our guesses are correct."
Despite Maccadam's words, the minibot smiled at the small being laying in his arms. "It's gone perfectly well, and I am glad for your help." He said to Maccadam.
His expression turned serious. "Orion Pax." He paused, weighing his words. "You and yours have done me a great favour. As the leader of this band of ruffians," and here he motioned to the minibots spread around the medbay, wounded to varying degrees during last cycle's attack and rescue. "I offer you our help with your fight against the Quintessons."
Orion smiled. "Your offer does you credit, but while we appreciate any help, know that you are not obliged to do so."
"And that is why we will join you. You have proven yourself to be true to your word, and I appreciate that."
They sat quietly, the minibot rocking the newspark back and forth.
"Orion?" The minibot asked.
"Yes?" Orion replied distractedly, his attention laser-focused on the tiny being in front of him. There was no doubt, this was the most adorable being he'd ever seen.
"My name is Micronus, and we'll be glad to stay here with you."
—
He couldn't recall Maccadam ever looking so frazzled before. The mech had been willing to help them in their endeavour, but despite his wide range of experience he had never done this before. Micronus and his lot had offered all the information they had, but even that wasn't much.
The procedure hadn't exactly been studied in frametypes other than minibots before, and there was enough variation between the two frametypes that there was a potential for things to go really, really wrong.
Maccadam had done a massive amount of research and had gotten exactly nowhere. They were now making it up as they went, which was … not ideal, he had to admit.
Even Megatronus had started to be affected by the generalised sense of panic Maccadam was emitting, though he'd been all stoic right up until the emergence. He was pacing about, scattering the inhabitants of the base out of the way of his frenetic movement, so caught up in his thoughts he didn't even notice them scurrying about.
At the end of the cycle though, they had created new life. He could feel the teeny-tiny field surrounding the sparkling, echoing confusion and curiosity at the world around them. The sparkling—and he just realised that despite all their worrying, they had never gotten around to the actual naming; it was just as well, since a designation would need to encompass all that they were as a person, not just their function of frame—was rolled into a tiny ball, curled up to hide from the world.
Megatronus, who had circled back around to the medbay, knelt down next to him, a single finger reaching out and very, very carefully stroking the curve of the sparkling's plating. Slowly, they uncurled, and to their surprise, two tiny arms darted out and grabbed onto the finger, clinging to it.
He shot an image-capture of the two of them, and the sight would be enough to warm any bot's heart.
He adored them both, and in that moment, despite all the wrongs that they had experienced—cruelty, slavery, death and despair—everything in the world was right.
—
Orion's pedes drew dust in their wake as they travelled through the wastes far east of their home base at Iacon. In recent vorns, their numbers had swelled greatly. Many of the new arrivals were happy to join in on their fight, but more and more had arrived that were not. Their reasons were their own, but stories Orion heard ranged from being physically unable to fight, a pacifistic mindset, or the entirely reasonable desire not to have anything to do with the Quintessons ever again.
Megatronus was as energetic as always, striding ahead with little trouble from the sand, the way Orion had. Orion guessed it was his height that gave him the advantage here. Despite their difference in size, at their size category weight started to matter far less, and the ability to lift your pedes completely free from the sand was as valuable an ability as any when it came to traversing the wastes.
Rolling about their pedes was Rodimus, still so small he could fit in just one of their hands, if barely so. He was fascinated by everything around them, from the rare crystal growths, coloured a prism of white, yellow, orange and pink, to the various forms of rock jutting out of the soft-yellow sand, rough on paint and pedes alike, being just as likely to trip you as to look pretty. He didn't have any of the trouble his carrier had with the sand, being far too light to actually sink into it when he rolled over the loose grit.
He still had his hardened shell, split into five overlapping plates. From what Micronus had told him, the bigger the sparkling, the more plates they'd have, right until their switched over to their final alt-mode. The plates would get more flexible in time, shifting with each passing vorn as more plates formed underneath. The ability to curl up into an impenetrable ball was a defensive one, and he was surprisingly mobile given that he seemed to lack either wheels of thrusters.
Every time Rodimus found something new or exciting or pretty—and everything around them seemed to qualify—he brought it back to show them. When Megatronus mentioned the mechanimals that lived in the area, he became really quiet, optics bright from what could either be curiosity or fear. It became clear which it was when he brought them a tiny crystal-lizard, the pattern on their plating mimicking the translucent nature of the crystal trees that dotted the landscape.
"He's… very excited for this." Megatronus said, a bit bewildered.
"Weren't you when you first saw this? He's never been outside much, and even I was stunned at the world's beauty when I first saw it, though I was much older then, and far more experienced with the world."
"I suppose so. By the time I had gained enough awareness that there was more to the world than fighting or the next battle, I had already seen a large section of the planet, this part being one of them."
He paused to pat Rodimus on the head after admiring a particularly nice rose-coloured crystal budding his sparkling had brought him, carefully helping him bury the larger offshoot so that it could grow from a new spot.
"No, what fascinated me were the ice fields to the far north. The way the ice glitters in the light of the moon or the sun can trick your sensors into seeing things that aren't there. In my case, it was a vision of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen. Impossible to imagine for me back then.
"Have you seen anything that came close since?"
"Hmm. The large hub at Iacon comes close."
"The hub? I did not think that building was particularly pretty. Useful, functional and by now, home—sure. But beautiful? I'll grant you we got rid of all the rust, but… really?"
"The people within the building are. And besides, empty buildings are worth nothing, not if there is no one to use them. If we're judging beauty purely on aesthetic values, we might as well call it a day and give a prize to the Quintessons."
"I had not expected for you to express an opinion that the Quintessons are better than we are at anything." Orion said, teasing.
"They aren't. That their buildings are pleasing to the eye does not mean their design is good. The outsides are as beautiful as the insides are rotten."
The journey was long, and the sand would kill their internals if they were to transform or drive. As energetic as Rodimus was at the start, eventually he tired, tugging at Megatronus's leg to ask if he would carry him. Megatronus didn't have the specialised magnetic mods that carriers tended to develop, but his frame was large enough that he could put him on his shoulder without any danger of their sparkling falling to the ground.
"What do you think the new base will be like?" Megatronus asked.
"I think Logos said that Censere was the one to get it all set up, and he's usually fairly thorough. There probably won't be a piece out of place."
"That will change soon enough. Whatever Rodimus won't want to move around immediately, the caravan that'll arrive next will."
Orion hummed in acknowledgement. "Has it been decided who will go in the first wave? I know we were having difficulty figuring out who'd be the best suited to leading this sector."
"You remember that Nexus brought someone into the fold half a vorn ago?"
"Alpha Trion, yes, I remember. Is he the one then?"
"Nexus, Logos and Maccadam all vouch for him, and his skillset isn't to far off what would suit best. We won't need much fighting prowess here, but rather someone who can deal with the more social aspects of leading. Most of the inhabitants here won't be warriors or soldiers."
"I'm glad we found someone in time." Orion crested the top of the hill, and at last they could see in the distance the rock formation that they'd built the base into.
"So am I." Megatronus said, smiling at Orion. When he put his pede down, his attention far away, his footing slid away, and he went rolling down the hill.
Orion followed at a slower pace, taking a controlled slide rather than an uncontrolled stumble. With a surface as soft as this sand was, there was no need to worry that either Megatronus or Rodimus would be harmed by the stumble, but it was amusing all the same, and Orion chuckled as he helped Megatronus up, the larger mech sputtering as he tried to spit out the sand that had gotten stuck in his mouth.
Rodimus, having been woken up by the fall, was lying on his back on the sand, uncurled and with his arms and legs spread wide. He didn't look upset though, and he was smiling.
"Can we do that again?!" He asked, scrambling up, arms flailing in his excitement. "Please, carrier, please." He whined.
In all honesty, Orion thought it was cute to see him so happy about their surroundings, so unlike his sire, who was still spitting out sand and grumbling something terrible about it.
"I'm sure your sire will oblige you with a few rides on our way." Orion said.
"Will I?" Megatronus asked sardonically, before sighing at the sight of Rodimus's pleading face. "I guess I will." He picked Rodimus up and put him back on his shoulder.
Orion smiled. Whatever grumbling Megatronus did, he never followed through.
And so they went, over the hills until at last they reached the base that would be their new home, at least for a little while.
"Have you decided on what to name the base?" Orion asked Rodimus. "Logos did say its first resident would be the one to give it a name."
"I don't think that's what he meant," Megatronus said. "But I will admit it is a valid interpretation of his words."
"I think it will mean more to us if Rodimus names it," Orion shrugged. "We've named many bases, what's one more to us?"
Rodimus looked down at the crystal he held in his hand, a gentle orange-white colour, pondering the name.
"Do these have a name?" He asked.
"We call them crystal-lizards," Megatronus said. "You know that."
"No, uh, I mean, do they have a—" Rodimus waved his hands. "Uh. A long name?"
"The scientific naming category? They do. I believe they're called nuon krystallos." Orion answered.
Rodimus's face screwed up into a frown.
"Nuon nuon nuon… crystals… Uh…"
Megatronus stroked his back gently, his fingers incredibly large in comparison.
Rodimus clattered his mandibles in excitement as he made a decision. "Nyon. This is Nyon." He said decisively, beaming at the two of them. "We're gonna live in Nyon!"