Chapter Six

Springer stepped outside of his quarters in Metroplex, a silly grin plastered to his face. Things had been kinda heavy lately, so he thought he'd pop by and get in a few yuks with Roddy while he was on Earth. Primus knew they both needed it. He hesitated outside the command center, still torn between the silly string and the rubber chicken, when a fuel-curdling scream came from within. All sense of merriment forgotten, Springer dashed inside the office and was struck dumb with horror. Rodimus lay sprawled backward in his seat, optics staring sightlessly at the ceiling, screaming like a banshee.

"Roddy! Roddy, what's the matter?" Springer yelled, shaking him viciously. Rodimus jerked like a puppet on a string, still staring blindly past Springer's shoulder. It was as if he didn't even know anyone was there.

"Optimus!" Rodimus wailed. "He's dead! Oh god, something's happened to him! OPTIMUS!"

Springer was very confused. Rodimus was the type who kept a cool head in danger, and he saved any emotional reaction until afterward. He had seen his old friend upset plenty of times, but never like this, not even when Optimus had been dying of cosmic rust. Besides, what could have possibly happened to put Prime in danger? As far as he knew, Optimus hadn't been scheduled for anything more sinister than endless negotiations, overseeing repairs, and the usual massive paper trail (which really was a fate worse than death, once he thought about it). He tried to calm Rodimus down long enough to talk. "Roddy, you've got to get a grip! Come on, talk to me! I can't help unless you tell me what's going on!"

"Nnnn… nnn!" The young Prime seemed unable to break out of his trance, transfixed in horror by something that only he could see. Springer was certain that it had something to do with the Matrix. Rodimus always got all weird when the Autobots' mystical artifact was involved. He'd found the connection it forged between the two Primes to be creepy in the extreme, but he couldn't deny that it made them a force to be reckoned with.

"Aw, hell!" There was no reasoning with him. "Look, Roddy, stay calm, okay? I'll try to figure out what's going on." He activated the vid screen and opened a channel to Cybertron.

Jazz greeted him with a big smile. "Springer, m'man! Long time no see! How can the Jazzmeister help you?"

Under other circumstances, Springer would have been glad to shoot the breeze. "Sorry, Jazz, no time to chat now. Can you get me in contact with Optimus Prime? I imagine he's busy and may have his comm. line off, but I need to have a quick word with him."

"Sure thing!" Jazz tapped a few buttons on his console and frowned. "Huh. That's funny. Teletran Two isn't registering Optimus inside the base. Hold on a sec." He turned aside and opened a comm. channel. "Jazz to Optimus Prime. Come in, Optimus Prime." There was only the hiss of static.

"Blaster!" Jazz yelled across the room. "Are the comm. lines working properly? I can't communicate with Optimus!"

"All systems go, Jazz!" Blaster called from off-screen. "The lines look good to me, but I can't reach Optimus either. Maybe his comm. unit is down. I'll just locate him and go… wait-a-tic, 'Tran says he's not here."

The uncharacteristic frown on Jazz's face was unsettling. "We can't reach him, Springer. We'll have to get back to you."

Springer frowned back. "Let me know right away if you locate Optimus. I'll see what I can find out on my end."

Once he had shut off the vid monitor, he turned back to Rodimus, who was still rocking back and forth. Thankfully he had been quiet during Springer's quick chat. There was no need to alarm Cybertron before it was necessary, but the need may arise soon. "Listen, Roddy, you're the key to all of this. If you know what's happened to Optimus, you've got to tell us right away."

Rodimus looked at him glassily. "I can't sense him anymore. I feel nothing." His lip trembled and he began to sob.

Springer threw his hands in the air. The whole situation was rapidly becoming what Roddy himself would call FUBAR. He truly felt for Rodimus, but he had to get to the bottom of what was going on, and Rodimus was being more of a hindrance than a help. He patted his friend's shoulder awkwardly as he activated his comm. line. "Springer to Ultra Magnus."

"Magnus here."

"Praise the Matrix. Look, do you know anything about Optimus Prime's whereabouts? Cybertron can't locate him and Rodimus is in hysterics." Wailing and moaning could be heard in the background

"What the devil is going on over there!" Ultra Magnus roared in top Major-General form.

Springer fought the urge to roll his optics. "I don't want to 'cry wolf', as the humans say, but I think we may have a situation on our hands."

There was a long silence. "On my way."

Magnus reached the command center in record time, much faster than Springer thought the big guy could actually move. In tow was Kup, glowering at the duo as if they had pulled some dopey prank. Well, maybe they had given him reason to be suspicious in the past, but right now this was no laughing matter.

"What's this nonsense about Optimus Prime being AWOL?"

Rodimus took one look at Kup and began screaming once more. "He's dead! Great Primus, he's dead!" The other three shared a baffled look. Ultra Magnus also tried patting his shoulder, to no avail. "Did something happen to Optimus? Come, Rodimus, you must tell us what you know." The young Prime seemed far beyond rational thought. The city commander opened a line to Medbay. "Ultra Magnus to First Aid. Emergency on command level. Please respond immediately."

Springer had always been a fan of the direct approach. He pulled back his hand and slapped Rodimus squarely on the face.

Rodimus blinked and stared at him with a hurt look. It was an improvement over the screaming, but the silence took on an eerie quality. Finally First Aid arrived and analyzed the patient quickly, diagnosing acute hysteria. He injected the mech with a sedative, and the young Prime immediately fell into a relaxed slump. Magnus grabbed Rodimus' face and held it still, forcing the emotional mech to look at him. "Rodimus," he said softly. "Now that you're a bit calmer, please tell us what's wrong."

Rodimus shuddered. "Optimus. He… he was on the shuttle. Something happened to it. I – I felt it. Dammit, he shouldn't have been there at all! I can't sense him at all! He's dead, I know it!" He whimpered, clutching his chest, and then slumped forward onto the desk as the tranquilizer took effect.

First Aid, Springer, Magnus, and Kup all stared at each other blankly. Rodimus had said something about a shuttle…. Springer fumbled for the console and mistyped his search three times before he was finally able to bring up the flight roster. There was the usual list of supplies and grunt troops, Megatron's scheduled flight to the Zambini homeworld, and a small mining group heading to the Toreli sector, but he couldn't see anything for Optimus. Another dead end. "Slag on a shingle!" he growled, throwing his hands up in the air. "I don't get it. I can't find any flights for him at all."

"We'll get to the bottom of this, lad, don't worry," Kup said in what was probably meant to be a soothing tone. "Ultra Magnus and I will leave immediately for Cybertron on a priority flight."

"Not without me you aren't!" Springer snapped. "If something's gone wrong with a flight, then it's my responsibility to investigate." He lifted Rodimus' limp form and bodily slung him over his shoulder. "I'm taking Rodimus to his quarters first. He'll be best off there."

"Fine, lad, fine," Kup sighed in exasperation. "We'll go prepare for the flight. You meet us when you're ready. But don't dawdle!" He dashed out of the room with Magnus hot on his heels.

First Aid frowned. "I really think that he should be taken to the medical bay."

Springer shook his head. "Under normal circumstances, I would agree. But whatever this is, it's best kept out of the public eye. Rodimus is going to be out of it for awhile, and until we get this mess sorted out, it would be better to tell people that he needs some rest. And for him to do that he'd need to stay in his quarters." He sighed at the frustrated look on the medic's face. "Look, I know you're busy and it would be easiest for you to monitor Rodimus from Medbay. But all he needs right now are some extra tranquilizer shots and someone to watch over him, am I right?" First Aid nodded. "Then I'm sure we can get Nova to fill that role."

Springer slung his comatose friend over his shoulder in a fireman carry hold. The one good point about this whole situation was that it was nighttime on Earth and the corridors were nearly deserted. He managed to lug Rodimus all the way to his quarters, where First Aid keyed open the lock with a medical override. Between the two of them, they finally got Rodimus positioned on the recharge berth. He looked like a train wreck. Springer wished fervently that he could stay with him, but if what Rodimus said was true, then they had a much bigger crisis on their hands. He activated his comm. unit one more time. "Arial Defense Commander Springer to Private Nova."

"Yes?" Nova sounded surprised and confused. She was still little more than a recruit, and though he was one of Roddy's friends, she wasn't much used to talking to him in a professional capacity.

"Listen, I've got no time to explain. You've got to get to Rodimus' quarters and keep an optic on him. He's been sedated and shouldn't be by himself."

"What? What's hap—"

"Never mind that!" he snapped. "I told you I've got no time! Just get over here! First Aid will let you in and fill you in on the details. There's something that I've got to take care of. I just pray that Rodimus is wrong." She tried to speak again, but he cut off the connection.

He jogged to the shuttle bay, cursing all the while. If this was a wild goose chase, he'd kill Roddy! And then once he was alone, he'd fall to his knees and thank Primus that it had all turned out all right. But when had their luck ever been so good? Millions of years of war had taught him that things could always get worse.

He spent the shuttle ride swiveling back and forth in his seat anxiously. Even the patented Ultra Magnus Glare of Death wasn't enough to quell him. Slagit, he wanted to move, wanted to charge in and demand answers, even bust some Decepticon heads (hey, it may not have anything to do with this situation, but it sure would make him feel better). Magnus was bent over his handheld unit reviewing reports, but it was obvious that he wasn't making much progress. Kup, however, was working like a madman, making what looked like sweeping and radical changes on some security blueprints.

The shuttle had radioed in for landing coordinates just minutes before it arrived, taking Cybertron by surprise. Jazz and Blaster had rushed to greet them as they touched down, but the shuttle occupants barely spared them a glance. Springer caught the shuttle maintenance tech just as he was getting off shift, and a few pointed questions told him all he needed to know.

Springer cursed a blue streak, reaming the poor grunt for not correcting the flight logs. Dammit, he was the aerial defense commander! It was his duty to be kept informed of flight schedules! How could he possibly do his job if the log wasn't updated with crucial information? The whole Optimus situation could have been resolved much faster if the record had been updated to reflect the change in pilot.

Cursing some more for good measure, he quickly conferred with Magnus and Kup. Meanwhile, Blaster had tried to raise the shuttle on the comm. link without success. Now that he knew that Optimus had in fact boarded the shuttle, he was able to access the flight plan and plot the ship's trajectory. The shuttle was outside of sensor range, and it did not respond to any hails. The group reached a consensus and gave Springer the green light to assemble a search and rescue team. He prayed that it wouldn't end up being a salvage operation. This time, Springer left nothing to chance. He did the pre-launch check himself and verified that his ship was in top condition. Then he boarded the ship with his team and sped toward Zabini space at breakneck speed.

He returned fourteen hours later, scratched, dirty, weary, and angry beyond endurance. Worse yet, he had a briefing with the Gruesome Twosome, as he liked to think of Magnus and Kup. Well, Mags wasn't so bad, once he removed the stick from his tailpipe, and Kup was alright when he'd had a few cubes of hi-test, but when combined they were at their stodgier-than-thou worst. All he wanted was to return to Earth and curl up with a cube of hi-test in one hand and his beloved 'Cee in the other, but duty called.

He dragged himself into one of the briefing rooms and threw himself into the nearest seat, settling into a comfortable slouch. He waited. One, two….

"And?" Magnus arched an optic ridge.

Right on schedule. He forced himself to straighten up and display some semblance of decorum. "Aerial defense commander's official report, sir! Shuttlecraft was destroyed by an incendiary device at approximately 2300 hours. Blast was in a radial pattern and destroyed the majority of the craft. There is little worth salvaging."

Kup held out his hand, and Springer passed him the data pad. "Analysis of the detonator device indicates it is of Decepticon origin."

Springer sighed. "Yeah, that's the sum of it. Doesn't mean much, though. This type of explosive is common around the quadrant. The 'Cons traded them for weapons and supplies."

Magnus folded his hands, trying to conceal a tremor. "And Optimus?" he said, his voice curiously flat.

Springer's gaze fell to the table. He drew out Prime's handheld palm-pilot, now nothing more than a twisted hunk of metal and plastic. "We didn't find much. Hard to say if that's a good or a bad thing. There were a few scraps of armor and some spilled fuel, but that's about it." He felt an odd sort of lump form in his throat. "Either he was v—vaporized, or his chassis was salvaged as scrap by the space pirates. Would explain why there wasn't much left in the shuttle. At any rate, he's lost to us. Rodimus was right," he choked. "Optimus is dead."

Magnus shuddered. "The pirates know that we would want to put Optimus to rest. If they had his body, they would have contacted us. Even if he had been taken prisoner, his captors would be eager to negotiate with us. And if he were still alive, I'm sure we would have gotten word of it somehow. Optimus is a rather recognizable figure in this quadrant. I think you're right, Springer. He is likely lost to us."

All three bowed their heads and spared a moment of silence for their fallen leader and dear friend. The shining beacon of the Autobots was gone. What could they do to stop the downward spiral into chaos?

Rodimus groaned, his optics flickering online. His hand collided with a lump on the bed. The lump moved. "Rodimus? You're awake!"

Roddy winced and pressed his hand to his throbbing head. "Yeah, unfortunately. How long have I been out?"

"Two days," Nova sighed, curling against him. "You were out of your mind; First Aid had to sedate you. Are you feeling all right now?"

Rodimus performed a diagnostic scan. All functions were within acceptable parameters – except, of course, the pounding in his head. "As good as can be expected physically, anyway. Except for a crushing headache." Emotionally, he felt as if a vacuum cleaner had sucked out his insides. He was empty and numb. Compared to the earlier hysteria, perhaps it was for the best.

Nova smiled slightly. "It's a side-effect of the tranquilizers. First Aid warned me that it may happen. He left this for you to take." Rodimus made a face as he gulped down the headache remedy. It tasted vile but was remarkably effective. Once the pounding in his skull ceased he asked, "Has there been any news?"

Nova shrugged. I've been here with you the whole time. I have no idea what's going on. Although you did say some rather disturbing things in your sleep. You talked about Optimus a lot."

Roddy slumped back against the cushion. "Well, there's no doubt in my mind now. You'll probably hear about it soon, so it may as well come from me. Nova, I wish to the gods it wasn't true. Optimus Prime is dead." The admission gave him a pang, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have. The cocoon around his heart would burst at some point, but for now it gave him some welcome distance.

Nova gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. She had spent the whole time at Rodimus' side, but she still had known that something had gotten the command in a huge lather. Springer, Magnus, and Kup had all stopped by to check on Rodimus but had refused to answer any of her questions. First Aid had also visited occasionally to examine his patient and to administer more medicine, but he too had left her in the dark. From Rodimus' babblings, it hadn't been difficult to guess that Optimus was somehow involved. Still, she had thought that he had only been injured or was in danger. She had never dared to imagine the worst.

Just then the speakers outside his quarters crackled to life. "Attention, all Autobots. This is city commander Ultra Magnus speaking. I have an announcement of the utmost gravity."

Nova and Rodimus looked at each other. The subject of the announcement was of no surprise to them. A sudden horrible thought occurred to him. "Has anyone thought to tell Andromeda first? No, you've been here with me, you wouldn't know. Dammit, this is just the sort of thing that Mags wouldn't think of!" Nova's optics grew wide. She had held some hard feelings toward her father for many eons, but surely he couldn't be that thoughtless? Yet Rodimus was right -- Magnus wasn't exactly a people person, and warning Andromeda wouldn't have been at the top of his list.

"Find her, Nova! Go quickly, and run! She shouldn't be alone!" Nova darted out the door as fast as her legs could carry her. Meanwhile, Rodimus heaved himself up with a groan. Once he reoriented himself, he headed to the command center with breakneck speed.

The security forces on Earth had been gathered for a briefing by Kup when the announcement came in. As one, they toward the vidscreen, where Magnus' face appeared, looking stern and a bit sorrowful. "Attention, all Autobots," he began, and Andromeda felt a feeling of dread settle in her stomach. She had been relieved when Kup had enthusiastically accepted her abrupt request to spend several days on Earth. She had needed a few days away from Optimus and Cybertron, and the change of scenery had helped. She was also glad to pitch in where bots with her expertise were sorely needed. And then something had gone majorly wrong; she'd suspected it for days, but none of the top brass had breathed a single word about the problem. Everyone had been running around frantically beefing up security, gathering reports from all over Cybertron, and investigating a mysterious shuttle accident. Neither Optimus nor Rodimus Prime had been seen during this time, which could only mean trouble. This time, she knew, something disastrous had happened. Could it have been another terrorist attack?

"Undoubtedly, you will have noticed the increased security and intelligence gathering of the last few days. We had wished to wait until we were certain to inform you of our findings. The Autobots have suffered a terrible, incalculable loss. It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you of the passing of Optimus Prime's spark into the Matrix."

Andromeda made a small choking noise. She had suspected that someone had died, perhaps even someone that she been close to, but had never in a million years imagined that it could have been Optimus. She could barely make out Magnus' words through the dull roar in her head. "Optimus Prime boarded a shuttle that was subjected to a terrorist bombing. He did not survive the attack. We have not only lost a great leader, but–"

She could listen no more. A scream tore itself from her throat. "NO!" she wailed, covering her face with her hands and sobbing. "Optimus! No, no! It can't be true!" Gods, everyone was staring at her and she knew she was making a huge scene, but she just couldn't help it. She stumbled to the door and bumped smack into a body. Slim arms wrapped around her. "Come with me," a familiar voice whispered. Nova dragged the hysterical femme down the hall and into an empty storage closet, where her friend could vent her sorrow in privacy.

Meanwhile, Ultra Magnus continued on with his speech, only the slightest of tremors in his voice. "Optimus could never be replaced, but we will work hard to honor his memory. Please have faith that we are all looking out for you and your safety. Although Rodimus Prime is currently—"

"Right here," he said firmly, and stepped in front of the vid screen. The look of gaping shock on Magnus' face would have been amusing under other circumstances. "We are working around the clock to put a stop to these attacks. Be assured that the ones behind the group calling itself the Circle will be dealt with. As you well know, it will mean extra duty and sacrifice. However, it does not mean that anyone should take vigilante action. We are your leaders – please trust in us to do our jobs." His voice grew soft. "The details for a memorial service have not been set, but I promise that you will all be kept informed. I suggest in the meantime that you pay your respects to Optimus at the prayer shrine. Never fear, the Autobot army will come through this stronger than ever, if we stick together. Until all are one." The monitor went blank, and throughout Iacon and Metroplex, silence reigned. Despite Rodimus' brave words, no one believed that things would improve. With Optimus Prime gone, the bright future of the Autobots and the Alliance itself seemed to dissipate like smoke in the faintest breeze.