Whew! Another chapter up! This was a longggggg time in the making. University exams wipe me out. Prowl and Jazz fans... this is your chapter. Also, towards the end some tissues might be needed. As always, we appreciate your reviews and I try my hardest to reply to all of them! I hope this chapter cheers up your holiday seasons.
Chapter twelve
"We should have the spacebridge up and running soon," Wheeljack said.
Prowl looked unimpressed. "How soon?"
Wheeljack faltered and his helm-fins flashed blue as he tried to come up with an accurate estimate. "Eh…"
Perceptor looked up from where he was hunched over with Skyfire, going over some calculations.
"I'm sure that with a few more tests to ascertain the effectiveness and efficiency of the modular capacitor—"
"Very soon," Skyfire interrupted before Perceptor could launch into a jumble of scientific jargon. "Depending on how the tests look."
"I want it finished in five cycles," Prowl said flatly, tapping a datapad against his chest.
"Five cycles?" Perceptor asked incredulously. "That's not nearly enough time to finish the tests on the—"
"Five cycles," Prowl repeated. "Get Ratchet to help if you need him. I want this finished."
"But sir!"
"This isn't up for argument," Prowl replied coolly. His blue optics flickered and he inclined his head at Skyfire. "Now if you will excuse me, I must be going."
Prowl then turned on his heel and strode quickly out of the room, sharply turning down a hallway to the left.
"Hey Prowl!"
The tactician stopped his clipped pace and Sideswipe nearly smashed into the back of him. The frontliner neatly danced out of the way and skittered to a halt beside him.
"Whoa, you okay?" the red-plated mech asked, holding his hands up defensively.
The smaller black and white coloured mech looked livid. His lips were pulled into a tight, thin line and his optics were an icy colour. The doorwings on his back flickered in irritation. Sideswipe was adept enough at reading doorwing language that he took a hasty step backwards.
"Uh it's okay. I'll catch you later when you aren't busy, okay?" the twin said with a forced chuckle.
Then Sideswipe bounded off back up the hall and Prowl's lips creased down even further. Prowl made an irritated noise in his vocalizer and continued up the hallway, but it seemed as though Sideswipe's appearance had taken the edge off. The tactician strode along to the command hallway and stopped again when a figure moved in the doorway to his office.
It was Jazz with his leg propped up against the door paneling, looking smug as always.
"Aw, you look tense."
"Fuck off," Prowl snapped. "You heard the news."
The saboteur shrugged. "Yeah, I'm not that happy about it either. Especially since I'll have to go and be one of those stupid royal guards during the ceremony."
"While I on the other hand, have to bear witness to the entire bonding ceremony," Prowl said moodily. "Now get out of the way of my office. I have work to do."
Jazz merely smiled and stepped aside to allow Prowl passage through the doorway. But before the doors could close, the saboteur nimbly slid inside. Even alone with Prowl inside the office, Jazz continued to wear his seemingly innocent smile.
"Yo cat, you don't look so cool," Jazz teased, swaggering forward as if he owned the place. The innocence in his smile then morphed into a suggestive leer. "You know I'm always here to help, don'cha?"
Prowl was already sitting in his chair, his optics off. "There's only one kind of help I need, Jazz, and you know exactly what it is."
The tactician kicked his legs up on his desk as he flicked his optics back on, grabbing a datapad in front of him. Prowl attempted to read it before he gave an angry snarl and flung it to the side, the screen cracking as it bounced across the floor.
"I'm currently in a very stressful position, Jazz," Prowl said, glaring up at Jazz. "More than usual. All because of that damn Decepticon… what was Prime thinking. Prep Mirage and Bluestreak…Bumblebee too. And my brother. Security is going to be tight at this event because I know someone is going to try something stupid."
"Mhmm…" Jazz made an agreeable sound deep in his vocalizer and hoisted himself up onto the desk to perch himself on it. There were a couple of datapads that sat in a pile next to him and he uncaringly pushed them aside to make more room. They tumbled off the desk and hit the floor.
"Already on it, Prowler."
"Damn it, how many times do I have to tell you not to call—"
Jazz clicked to get Prowl's attention and held out his hand, displaying a small liquid-filled vial that he held between his fingers. He waved it tantalizingly close to Prowl's face and the liquid sloshed inside.
"Oh Prowl, but I come bearing gifts!" Then with a flurry of gestures like he was performing some sort of magic trick, Jazz subspaced the item and held his empty palms out, acting all surprised that it disappeared. "But look!" Jazz exclaimed. "Poof! It's vanished into thin air! But don't you worry, I have more!"
Prowl had jerked forward as if to reach for it, but with the vial now gone again, he morosely sat back in his chair.
"You're a Decepticon cocksucker," Prowl muttered. He irritably tapped his fingers against his desk and very slowly his doorwings drooped downwards. "Alright. What do you want in return?"
"First of all…"
The blue in Jazz's visor flickered, the colour draining into a near white that showed the abrupt shift of his demeanour. He backhanded Prowl hard across the face with a loud smack.
"Don't give me that when you're cut from the same mould," Jazz snarled quietly. "And you get to be my cocksucker right now. And maybe, just maybe you'll get more."
Prowl's face was still angled to the side. His lips twitched upwards in an expression of neutrality before he obsessively began running his fingers along the edge of his desk.
"Jazz…" Prowl tentatively began, "you know I didn't mean it like that. Recent events have made the effects very… unnoticeable."
The smaller mech slumped forward and placed his quivering fingers on Jazz. He looked up, his optics displaying true need.
"Please. I need it."
The glare in Jazz's visor softened slightly and he smirked at Prowl's pathetic display.
"Oh I know you do," the Jazz cooed out, tugging one tapered edge of Prowl's chevron to the side. "Just so happens that I want you to put that poisonous little trap of yours to good use."
He fluidly slid off the desk and neared Prowl. With one hefty push, Jazz pushed Prowl back, chair and all, so he could pull himself back onto the desk. This time he was sitting right opposite the tactician and he obscenely spread his thighs wide. The office's bright light glinted off Jazz's raised codpiece and Jazz gave it a pat, as if beckoning over a pet.
"C'mon," Jazz coaxed. "You know what to do."
The tactician scowled, but his optics remained trained on the saboteur's spread legs. He stood up and was forced to bend over at an awkward angle in order to lower his face with Jazz's panel. With a quick look up, Prowl opened his mouth and drew his wet glossa across the surface. The tactician worked in drawing his glossa across the warm metal, curving his lips down to suckle at the edges. Then, with a sharp glint to his optics, Prowl turned his helm slightly and harshly dragged his prominent denta on the surface, causing sparks to fly up and leaving behind three gashes.
"It's this what you like, Jazz? A little bit of rough treatment and you will interface with anyone," Prowl said, muffled. "Don't you get enough cock-sucking from your lackeys and love interest?"
"Tastes sweeter when you do it, Prowler," Jazz purred out with a faint hiss from his vents. "Gets me off so hard seeing you like this."
Jazz's interface panel retracted and his cock extended from its housing, its head glistening already with fluid at the slit. He took it in his hand, gripping it by its thick base and made a pleased sound when he squeezed tightly.
Prowl took Jazz's spike in his warm wet mouth, conforming his lips tightly around the bulbous head to suck. He jerked when the saboteur grabbed the back of his helm and shoved him down, forcing him to take his entire cock at once. The tactician grabbed hard onto Jazz's plating, his sharp-tipped fingers sliding underneath the seams to scratch at wiring.
"Oh yeah, just like that," Jazz growled out, the light in his visor sharpening into a bright, blue line.
The plating around Jazz's thighs puffed out, allowing Prowl to sink his fingers deeper into the wiring and protoform within and the saboteur grunted, his body jerking in mixed sensations of pleasure and pain.
Jazz was enjoying the abuse, clearly.
He grabbed Prowl by the sides of his face, pushing his own digits past Prowl's stuffed mouth and pried the mech's jaw open. Oral fluid gathered around the seams of Prowl's mouth and dribbled past his chin as Jazz held him, keeping his mouth an open receptacle so he could thrust his spike through it. Jazz's pelvic plating smacked harshly into Prowl's face and the tactician reached in between the puffed of pieces of plating to sink his fingers into the mech's protoform. The result was instantaneous – Jazz gasped in pleasure and jerked his hips up erratically.
Then Prowl raked his denta against the cock in his mouth, tightening his jaw and biting at the saboteur's fingers. He stared up angrily at the mech with his light blue optics and knew Jazz was only too happy that Prowl couldn't vocalize his displeasure.
"Mm, oh yes…perfect…" Jazz murmured.
He pulled his spike out, the shaft glistening wetly in the light. There were small indentations across the ridges, the surface a little scarred; the marks of a true masochist. With a tight grip on Prowl's chevron, Jazz held the tactician still and it only took a couple of strokes for him to overload. His hot transfluid splashed all over Prowl's faceplates, the lavender-coloured liquid splattering on his optics and beading at the edge of his nasal ridge.
"Now there's a look that suits you. Spread your legs, Prowler. Finger yourself until you cum. I wanna watch you."
Prowl looked extremely displeased. He wiped at the cum on his face, flicking it off of his fingers. With a moody huff, he sat back in his chair and took a rag from his subspace so he could wipe up the mess.
"Thanks," Prowl replied sourly. "But no thanks. You got the overload you wanted. I have no desire at the moment." The tactician held out his palm as he tossed the dirtied rag to the side. "Give me what's mine."
Jazz cocked his helm to one side and the light in his visor narrowed at Prowl's behaviour. He pursed his lips in consideration and covered his own interface array, making himself look decent again.
"Okay then." He procured the vial and placed it neatly on the desk. "I'll be lenient with you this time but the next one is going to be more intensive." He laughed. "But isn't that always the case?"
With one last smirk aimed at Prowl's direction, Jazz jumped off desk and skipped across the room.
"See ya next time when you're in dire need for your next fix, babycakes!" Jazz called out and before he left, he made sure to wolf-whistle loudly.
The Autobots had tested the spacebridge thoroughly despite Prowl's demands to hurry it up, of course. Just in case to make sure they didn't all end up inside-out with the transfer process.
"…but don't look alarmed guys, it's perfectly safe," Wheeljack had cheerfully informed them.
Except Soundwave really did feel like his insides had been rearranged inside-out. Unfortunately the Autobots didn't have the technology quite as refined as the Decepticons.
All his gyros spun ten different directions all at once and his sensors had temporarily shorted out from the massive displacement. It was like someone had thrown him halfway across the galaxy in a giant slingshot and when his sensors did come back online, they all did it simultaneously. That threw him into a full sensory overload…and not in a good way.
Sideswipe promptly stepped to the side of the skiff they were all standing on and bent over to breathe harshly. Sunstreaker who had been standing next to him began to sway to and fro and his optics flared brightly.
"Primus damn it, Sides, don't you dare—"
Sideswipe violently purged, leaning hard on his knees with his hands.
Unable to fight back, Sunstreaker gave into the nausea that Sideswipe had unwittingly fed him through their bond and with a harsh grinding sound of internals, purged right next to his brother.
Soundwave stumbled on his pedes and had enough common sense to override his programming by clamping down onto the valves of his tanks, just in time to stop himself from purging right into his mask. From his left, where he knew Jazz stood, he could hear the disgusting splatters of half-processed energon hitting the floor and the unhealthy whines of a high-performance engine stalling. The telepath then looked to his right. Optimus Prime was hunched over and was heaving loudly, his large hands splayed on his bent knees.
"What? Why ya'll throwing up like that?" Ironhide asked them curiously.
The bastard merely stood there, completely unaffected.
When the spinning feeling subsided, Prime straightened up and passed a glare to the older mech of the group. "Your cpu is too fried from eons of getting punched in the head for you to feel this anymore, Ironhide," Prime muttered lowly.
The old veteran shrugged, his plating slightly puffed out from the journey, but he otherwise looked unaffected by the arrival.
"Thought this might happen," Hoist said from the back.
He was along as the team's medic and he stepped forward among the group, handing out energon stabilizers while carefully avoiding the soured energon splattered on the floor.
"Primus, that was fucking terrible," Sideswipe finally said, reaching into his subspace for a rag so he could wipe off his face and pedes.
Prime moved forward towards Soundwave's direction and looked at the telepath enquiringly. However after a moment, he concluded that Soundwave was alright and went on to the command console, feeling a tinge of trepidation. He activated the door mechanisms and the gears slowly started to turn.
"Remember to turn on your filtration systems. Cybertron's gravity conductors were destroyed with the war and there is no oxygen. Hydrogen will have to be used in its place. Also, remember to recalibrate your gravity systems… if not, you will go floating out to space," Hoist lectured.
"Yes mom," Sideswipe sighed, much to the medic's chagrin.
The door finally opened and darkness flooded in.
Ironhide made a mournful noise. The cityscape of Iacon was a mangled mess of destruction and waste. The only structures that stood and were relatively undamaged were the gold painted Autobot headquarters laid before them. Autobot guards rushed forward, carefully lining Prime's group, and with them, Alpha Trion. The old mech stepped forward out of the group and he greeted Optimus.
"Alpha Trion," Optimus greeted in return, bowing respectfully.
Soundwave stood a step behind Optimus. It might have been considered as an act of respect, though it spoke more of thinly-veiled submission; standing next to the Autobot leader would have indicated equality between the two.
"Our Prime has returned home to his planet," Alpha Trion said softly, water vapour escaping his lips. Then he turned to Prime's right, bowing his helm and shoulders at Soundwave. "And does our new Royal Consort. I am happy to finally meet you."
Alpha Trion brought up an old, long-fingered hand and twisted it across his chassis as a sign of greeting to both mechs.
"Alpha Trion," Soundwave murmured with a polite inclination of his helm, repeating the complicated gesture after watching Optimus perform it back to Alpha Trion.
The mysterious old mech smiled before he turned to Optimus and clasped him on the shoulder in a friendly way. The group started to walk towards the door that led into the Autobot base, but Optimus paused to look forlornly at the ruined landscape. Water streamed from his vents as Optimus, the largest mech amongst them, walked across the platform.
"Seeing Cybertron again… like this. It all seemed like a bad dream," Ironhide said, clearly dismayed as he gazed out at the ruined city. "It pains me."
Throughout the city the old speedway was twisted and ruined. It had once been a great transportation hub for countless mechs and femmes, but now pieces jutted up into the sky. The giant Autobot battle cruiser Killtross was pointed bow upwards into the starry night, a giant hole piercing its hull, completely destroying the command deck. In its heyday, the cruiser had been one of the largest on Cybertron, meant only dock out of orbit. It had been brought down during one of the final battles and had contributed to over half of the city of Iacon's demise.
Prime paused as he stared at it, crossing his arms over his chassis. After a moment, Ironhide jabbed him in the back.
Alpha Trion's voice rang out across them. "We should get inside. We have yet to even begin clearing this place for security threats… especially in this ruin of a city. The city is full of cannibals and Empties. The process to begin clearing it out will take tremendous effort. Iacon isn't even the worst hit. Kaon as you know is…" he added.
Soundwave didn't ask what had happened to his own native city – Polyhex. He had personally seen that cesspool of vagrants and Empties razed to the ground. Of course, he had heard what had happened to those remained – hideous, mindless cannibals that scoured the wastelands for anything living to devour. Ironic enough, their original name Empties still remained and transferred over to those who degenerated enough to become them.
Prime bowed his head and moved on. They continued towards the largest structure in the vicinity, utilising a make-shift walkway that was surrounded by forcefield generators and small laser turrets. Beyond their ruined surroundings, the colossal domed structure of Iacon's command centre could be seen. When they reached the armed entrance, the troops ran out in front of them and did smart-about turns, facing them with their blasters ready for any danger that might come their way.
When the fortified double doors slid aside, Prime obviously knew where he was going when he entered the building. Alpha Trion was a few heads shorter than him, but he kept pace easily with the big mech.
"The Council wants to see you right away," Alpha Trion said as they walked quickly through an underground passage that went up into the main building.
At the end they came to another door with guards and again they were permitted through.
"I thought as much," Optimus said tightly.
The group took an elevator up, ascending through many floors. When the doors slid open, the atmosphere was completely different. It was clear they were in the grand palace of the Autobot headquarters. The floor gleamed with care, murals lined the walls and even the foul smell in the air had been exchanged for a pleasant fresh oil smell. Alpha Trion and Optimus stepped out, along with Soundwave, but the rest of the group remained behind.
"How does Vector Sigma feel?" Prime asked quietly.
"He is curious. Most of Soundwave's records have been altered by Shockwave," the elder mech replied. "There is little else on him besides his battle records."
Soundwave didn't say anything to that. There was nothing he wanted to clarify about himself.
There was more walking, more lavishly decorated corridors to cross and the closer to their designation they got, the more nervous Soundwave felt. He had never met or seen Vector Sigma but had heard stories of him. The all-powerful computer that was capable of bestowing life. Soundwave wasn't sure if the myth that Vector Sigma was sentient was true as well and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.
When they stopped in front of an enormous slab carved out into the wall, Soundwave wanted to pull back. Then that slab split into two and pulled itself apart, revealing a large chamber within, and Soundwave's visor flickered with trepidation.
There was a circular table inside, and seated at it, the rest of the Council members. Vector Sigma shimmered off to the side and even though the multifaceted orb was just a projection, Soundwave could feel its immense power radiating towards him. The telepath's mental barriers shot up by instinct alone, hackles raised like a cornered animal. Without meaning to, Optimus grabbed Soundwave's hand and led him forward into the room. The room was dimly lit, and the Council figures swayed above them like apparitions.
"So our disgraced king has finally returned to his homeland," a voice said.
Optimus recognized it as Emirate Xaaron's and he smiled ruefully. Optimus then remembered he was holding Soundwave's hand and he hastily let it go.
"I am glad you receive me so well, Council member Xaaron," Optimus replied smoothly. "However you may speak of me in private, I ask you to refrain from such language in a public setting."
Xaaron leaned forward and snarled, showing the sharp features of his face and his shockingly gold plating. "You dare—"
"Enough," Alpha Trion snapped from behind the pair. He stepped forward and patted Prime on the shoulder before he turned to the left to climb of the dais.
The bright orb of Vector Sigma seemed to expand in interest, but did nothing else for the time being.
Optimus grabbed Soundwave and pushed him forward. "I present Soundwave… new Royal Consort."
"He's not the Royal Consort yet," Traachon said exasperatedly, leaning forward for a good look. "He must undergo the ceremony with you. Then officially he will be the Royal Consort."
Soundwave recoiled ever so slightly at the way the Council members were looking at him; coldly dissecting him as if he was an experiment laid out on that vast table of theirs. Though the real dissecting had yet to begin, he knew.
"He will require a new alternate mode," Gravitas spoke. "One that is more befitting of his stature."
Xaaron scowled. "At least that despicable Decepticon symbol is gone," he said, pointedly looking at the centre of Soundwave's chestplate.
Soundwave glanced down at the clear planes of his torso. Wiped clean like his past had been eons before.
"Soundwave, come forth," Vector Sigma finally commanded.
The telepath turned his helm slightly; catching a glimpse of his mate's plating as if for the very last time, and obeyed the supercomputer. Without a sound, he slid around the back of the seats and stopped right in front of the orb.
Prime made as if to follow, but Vector Sigma wouldn't allow it. With a sharp snap of its energy, Optimus grunted in pain and fell to his knees. The Autobot crawled forward so he could see Soundwave standing before Vector Sigma and for the first time, he sent a strong gush of encouragement through the bond they shared.
Soundwave actually flinched because of it.
Prime withdrew right after that. "Please, Vector Sigma, there's no need to be so—"
"Silence."
Vector Sigma then focused exclusively on Soundwave. In an almost teasing manner, the being swirled its energy around the mech before him, gliding over Soundwave's plating like a parasite.
"Soundwave…who are you?"
Vector Sigma smoothly invaded Soundwave's mind. It wasn't abrupt or sudden, but simple and easy. Soundwave stiffened but made no other outward sign that he was uncomfortable from the invasion. He was always the invader and it was never the other way around. It felt too much like the Matrix and no matter how fast his mental blocks – fearsome in their own right—were shooting up one after the other; they were all shattering like glass. Vector Sigma was impossible to keep out.
Soundwave…who are you? Vector Sigma asked within his mind, words not spoken but felt running along Soundwave's consciousness.
'Soundwave. Former third-in-command to Megatron, former Decepticon communications officer—'
Vector Sigma seemed almost bored as it sifted through Soundwave's memories as a Decepticon, lingering on a few select instances before moving forth.
No, Vector Sigma insisted, who are you?
Its interest lay in Soundwave's life with Shockwave and before that. His time as Ratbat's aide. The first moments he met Megatron. The excitement he felt when Megatron threw him down in a pool of fresh mechblood and fucked him like a wild animal.
Soundwave began to tremble when Vector Sigma dwelled beyond that. It specifically picked out his deepest, most hidden thoughts. His ambitions and goals, his hates, dislikes and the few likes he had. The relationship he had with his symbiotes. What he had with Optimus Prime. His gains and losses. The horrible life he had before Shockwave had found him. Vector Sigma left no stone unturned. Everything was scrutinised to the very last detail.
"Soundwave. From Deadend, Polyhex. From the Empty caste. Creators unknown. Discovered by Shockwave. Transgressions: prostitution, murder, treason, cannibalism, ritual sacrificial techniques, genocide, deception and manipulation—"
Panic began to course through Soundwave's circuits. 'Enough, enough—!'
But Vector Sigma continued to list everything, as if Soundwave didn't already know everything he had done in his existence from the day he was created. "—rape, theft, unlawful information extraction technology, torture—"
Soundwave felt as if his head was going to explode. 'Stop it, stop, stop!'
"—unlawful extraction of sparks, bribery, non-consensual coercion, contraband dealing, unlawful weapons development and dealing." Vector Sigma paused, abruptly interested at what it found. "You once carried a spark. It did not survive. Given who the sire was, that is favourable to your current situation."
A brief fuzzy memory of Shockwave coolly informing Soundwave that his sparkling had not taken to its protoform flashed through him and the pain he had locked away flooded back in like a wave of acid. It stung and ate at his spark. Soundwave's legs gave out and he crashed onto the floor with a heavy clang. His claws scratched across the expensive metal surface as he tried to push Vector Sigma out of his mind. It was to no avail. He began to convulse from the intensity in which Vector Sigma blithely raked through his innermost secrets and feelings.
Soundwave found himself being suddenly the mech – the vermin – he once was, scavenging the rusted out streets of Polyhex. 'Stop it, fuckin' stop it,' he pleaded in his mind, his voice young and coarsely-accented, staticky with the malfunctioning vocaliser that would short out constantly.
"Stop, you're hurting him!" Prime finally shouted.
He lunged forward and grabbed his bondmate, using the Matrix's energy to shield the telepath from Vector Sigma and effectively slamming up a thick barrier between themselves and the entity. The Matrix's barrier was hot and thick and the energy rolled through the room violently.
Silence pervaded the room.
When Vector Sigma stopped its assault, Prime lowered the defences of the Matrix slightly, hiking his bondmate up in his arms to hold tightly to him.
"I've had enough with this. You've seen him, he's bonded with me and he's the Royal Consort officially or not!" Prime snarled.
The Autobot leader turned around and walked down the steps away from Vector Sigma until he was back in front of the room at large.
"I will not allow my mate to be subjugated to torture just because you're curious, Vector Sigma," Prime snarled. "And if I feel your presence near my mate again I'll remove your projection and keep you locked in the bowels of this planet!"
Shock pervaded the Council. At the end of the row, Alpha Trion leaned back in his chair and smiled. He was the oldest Cybertronian, the first and original. He had sired countless of offspring. No half-sentient supercomputer placed in the Autobots' midst and propelled to the height of a god could faze him.
Especially not a half-sentient computer the Quintessons had placed.
Soundwave was limp in his arms as Prime walked out of the chambers.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know he would… overreact like that," Optimus said softly.
His rhythmic pedesteps were soothing to Soundwave and soon they entered into a smaller area. Prime walked a narrow corridor, passed through a guarded door that opened to a huge hallway and a tantalizing view of the outside. There were huge piles of crystals, all in different colour and sizes.
"The royal garden," Prime said, pausing. "Once upon a time these gardens were highly cared for and beautiful. Now…"
Prime looked away and continued on. They soon arrived in a much smaller room with a berth, where Optimus placed Soundwave upon the surface with a gentleness he had not displayed before. Prime then stood and walked over to the other end of the room to prepare energon for Soundwave. He took it back to the mech and set it down on the table next to him.
"It pains me to see Iacon like this. I'm going to take a team out and we're going to try to clear some areas out. Killtross needs to be raised and destroyed… I was so broken when the Decepticons took that cruiser down. She was so beautiful."
This Optimus Prime wasn't the same as the last one. There was something different. Something had snapped inside the mech, something good. It could have been because he was back on Cybertron, or it could have had something to do with the Matrix. The energy that had bathed and shielded Soundwave was protective and warm, not evil and dark like he had always experienced it before.
Slowly, Soundwave pulled himself to sit up. His mask retracted into his helm and he took the offered energon drink. But it didn't seem as if he was in any mood to drink it. He just looked visibly shaken from Vector Sigma's probing; his lips drawn tight over his denta and the light in his visor giving off unsteady flickers.
"I am functional," Soundwave croaked out without Prime asking him and he bowed his helm so he could rub at his helm crest. "I refuse to be subjected to that again." His voice got louder. "Do you understand? I refuse." Then a quiet pause and he averted his gaze. "My apologies…my performance to Vector Sigma's trials was not satisfactory."
Prime touched Soundwave's helm with the tips of his fingers. "I knew he wanted to interrogate you, but I wasn't aware it was to that extent. I won't let him do it to you again," Prime replied. The Autobot handed over a small pack of rust sticks to his bondmate. "Eat these. It'll help with the sickness. Vector Sigma used to do that to me for fun before I had the Matrix."
With a curt nod, Soundwave placed the untouched energon cube back onto the table next to them and took the pack of rust sticks instead. He stared at them; as if he never had one before and gingerly took one out, pressing it unenthusiastically against his lips. The rust granules broke off and stuck to the surface of his lips.
"You did not join it…him…Why?" Soundwave said, sluggishly amending himself.
"No, I did not," Optimus said slowly. "I think our bond is a new beginning for both of us. It's permanent and we'll be together forever. But we haven't courted each other…or know each other first. It's strange and uncomfortable. One thing is for certain – we can't erase the past."
Optimus looked up, gazing out of a shield window into the lower half of the courtyard. The living crystals cast glittering fragments of light, and every so often tiny piece of metal from the air would float closer, attracted by the energy and heat. They were slowly eaten up on contact.
Prime rubbed at his face. "Being back here…it's hard for me. For many reasons." Slowly the large mech slid ungracefully to the floor, his long limbs splayed about haphazardly. "In the city that was so vibrant and lively… now it's dull and filled with the dead. I've lost so many friends to this war." Then Prime began to weep. He covered his face up and his vent hitched quietly, his shoulders quivering. "No one deserves such pain and loss… no matter what faction."
Soundwave stared. Once upon a time, he would have watched a mech pour out his sorrow without a hint of emotion. Except now with his spark in turmoil from the whole Vector Sigma experience, with slivers of sadness leaking in from Optimus' side of the bond…Soundwave could only feel numbness.
"I would not know," Soundwave finally said, so uncomfortable with the sight of the mighty Optimus Prime mourning in front of him for a dead planet that he had to look away.
After a moment Prime stopped and heaved a great sigh. "And what to do now? Would it be best to leave this planet and settle somewhere else? Like Earth? Or unite our people and rebuild this dead planet like we should be obligated to do. We are not meant to be a problem for another species. Or should we leave to the planet Orga or Duke… or somewhere else?" Prime lamented sombrely.
There was a lengthy pause before Optimus turned to Soundwave. "What do you think?"
The red visor brightened with Prime's request for his opinion, but was nonetheless very grateful for the change of subject. He ran the quick calculations within his cpu and weight the advantages and disadvantages of colonisation elsewhere but Cybertron.
"Earth: inadvisable. Indigenous species will pose a problem. Orga, Duke: all neutrally-aligned, organic. Indigenous species would have to be subjugated which conflicts with the Autobots' current code," Soundwave intoned. "Paradron: Autobot colony. Inhabitants have established their own ruling system. Adamant in their neutrality. Current Autobots and Decepticons too deeply riveted in their belief that Cybertron should be revived. Current conclusion: explore the possibility that Cybertron can be revived."
"I can help with that," Prime said softly, his blue optics glittering. "Because I have a direct link with Primus, who as you know, is this entire planet. Primus is still alive, but he's been in stasis for a long time… in an energy conserving state, not like our stasis necessarily. Primus needs a mass… a huge mass of energy to be revived and he can start healing himself. I wonder where we would find that energy?"
Soundwave slid the uneaten rust stick he'd been holding the entire time back into the pack and hunched forward into his seat. "Urban legend: the Matrix of Leadership is part of Primus himself. Confirm?"
"Yes. The Matrix is a piece of Primus' spark," Prime said absently. "Whoever wishes to rule the planet must have the Matrix, and the Matrix must accept him. Otherwise Primus must be in stasis like he is now. The war has taken a heavy toll on him. Even if the planet were to die, there's the assurance that Primus can rebuild himself through the Matrix. But if both are destroyed, the Cybertronian race will cease to exist."
"I have felt the Matrix," Soundwave blandly stated. "I do not wish Primus to revive."
"He is a vengeful god," Optimus agreed. "But I don't think we have much of a choice at this point. We'll have to see what happens with the war."
At the mention of that, the corners of Soundwave's mouth turned down and what could be seen of his expression darkened considerably with spite. The war was not for him anymore; he had been disgraced and pushed aside as Prime's trophy. His energy field pulled in tightly towards his plating and he hunched in further into himself, turning away from the other mech with nothing else to say.
Prime stared at the floor, obviously knowing that the conversation was over. "Drink that energon. I'll send Hoist in to look on you in a bit. Get some recharge…we have to begin plans for the ceremony."
If anything Soundwave seemed to make himself even smaller on the berth.
Optimus Prime finally sat down on the broken aileron from some giant spacecraft, panting heavily. He was covered in a mixture of debris, ash, and mechblood. The Autobot breathed harshly and his muscle cables quivered with overextension. Next to him, Ironhide was panting equally as hard and the twins continued to labour on ahead of them, clearing debris from the perimeter of the Royal Palace and some of the main streets that had originally been near the capitol building and Autobot Headquarters. Optimus had decided it was time to take action and begin some of the work, ordering a large group of guardians and Autobot forces that had stayed on Cybertron to begin the clean-up.
Still, Optimus had not seen Ultra Magnus.
Elita-1, however, had greeted him as coldly as ever and now her femmes were working just off to the right.
Crash!
Optimus winced as a guardian tossed aside a broken piece of a cargo ship with relative ease. The massive mechs were useful and strong, and Prime was only too glad to have them on the team. Each was about as big as Omega Supreme and they followed orders mindlessly like all non-sentient creatures did.
"Primus, I can't remember the last time I've worked that hard," Ironhide said, though Prime could tell the old mech was excited at being able to push forward the energy into something.
Optimus himself made a hollow noise. "Nor I. But we're making good progress. Now if any Empties come close we'll be able to see them."
"And shoot those fuckers before they tunnel into headquarters," Ironhide growled. "Had plenty of time to get acquainted to them when I was out in the mountains south west of here. They'll eat you whole. Metal and all."
Prime couldn't help an involuntary shiver at being eaten alive by cannibals. "We're going to wire mines through here as well… and we need to mark them accurately this time, weapons' master," Optimus chided while he patted the red-plated mech's shoulder.
"I'll never forgive myself for that. Poor Blue… doorwing missin' and all," Ironhide muttered back. "Poor youngling was in so much pain. But he didn't cry, that little one. He's a tough mechling."
"He is an invaluable asset to our time," Prime agreed absently. "His talents and light-heartedness make things much happier."
"I don't think he realizes that," Ironhide said, pushing aside a door panel from someone's alt mode with his foot. "But I promise to wire the mines extra safely this time. What's your Empty score now?"
"I've killed twenty today so far," the Autobot leader replied.
"Only twenty!" Ironhide laughed. He slapped Prime's shoulder and stood up, his vents not expelling so hard now. "Thirty-seven for me. Loser pays for the first round?"
The blue in Prime's optics cycled narrower. "You'll regret that."
"You're on!" Ironhide cajoled as he stood up. Then he paused. "Where's Soundwave? I thought he might be out here helping."
The accusation was clear. Prime lifted one massive shoulder in a shrug. "He's still recovering from what Vector Sigma did to him. He was recharging this morning and didn't even stir so I decided to give him the opportunity to rest."
"I see," Ironhide replied, his optics narrowed. The older mech nodded his head and then tottered off, shouting orders to any of the others nearest to him.
One of the guardians had been standing idle. When he noticed Optimus sitting down, he walked over, his giant pedesteps shaking everything.
"Optimus Prime: Status?" it enquired in a booming voice.
"Fine," the Autobot leader replied, waving his hand slightly. "I have many questions."
"Elaborate," the big guardian asked.
"How would it be possible to raise Killtross from the city?" Optimus wondered aloud.
"Pieces," the guardian answered.
Optimus rubbed his facemask, playing with the edge of his electrum sword resting on his lap. "But that would take forever. The ship is huge. We don't have the energy to raise up all of the individual pieces… we'd have to clear the area, cut the pieces, secure them to the transport vessel and that vessel would have to break orbit… and go where with the pieces?"
The guardian bent down and showed Optimus a hologram. "Pieces: into the nearest sun. Easiest way to dispose of waste."
Optimus stood up and nodded. "Thank you for your help, guardian."
The huge mech inclined his helm as well before he turned back around and continued his work of moving debris. Prime stood up and followed Ironhide where he was talking to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker about what they were going to clear out next. The task seemed insurmountable to Prime and he stared at the giant wing of the Killtross as he approached.
"I need an engineer," Prime said. "To see if we can get the Killtross up and running as a battleship again."
The three mechs gawked at him. Ironhide visually assessed what he could see of the giant ship and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Prime… the energy involved to even start to repair it would be more than we could possibly put forth. This ship was shot out of orbit, plus it was sabotaged. We don't know the extent of the damage…"
"Precisely," Optimus replied. "It's worth a shot. Even if the ship isn't repairable, it used to have a shield class unlike any other since. The possibility of it being salvaged would be… invaluable."
Sideswipe was now looking at the ship that was lying against the skyline. His red plating was smeared and scratched and he paused to look at Sunstreaker before looking back to Optimus.
"We had a friend who was stationed on the Killtross," Sideswipe spoke up, gesturing to his twin and himself. "A top grade gunner. Anyways, we commed him when we saw the ship going down… he was still alive when it crashed to the surface of the planet but there was too much chaos for us to try to send someone to get him out. He was on the lower levels where the underbelly guns were… and he said that the room was mostly intact. Maybe the rest of the ship is too."
Prime looked down, his blue optics trained on the ground momentarily before he looked right into Sideswipe's optics. "I'm sorry to hear that, Sideswipe. But…Alpha Trion would be very interested if we can map out the ship's interior and find the extent of the damage."
Ironhide shrugged. "I agree. Raising the Killtross would be… extremely advantageous."
"Alright. Everyone will go for recharge and some energon. We'll meet back here in seven cycles to begin working... and don't forget to download the schematics."
Prime watched as the small group dispersed. He knew everyone was tired from the long day of labourious work, but they had made good progress in clearing the debris from around the base of the Autobot headquarters. At least now they stood a chance to pick off any Empties that would tried to enter.
With one last look at the Killtross, Prime also retreated back into Autobot Headquarters.
Later in the day after a short recharge, Optimus drank his energon cube. Soundwave was next to him, but Prime paid him little attention. The emotional atmosphere from the previous day had evaporated completely, leaving Optimus as impassive as before the exchange with Vector Sigma.
"What is my Prime's schedule?" Soundwave finally asked. An energon cube was in front of him as well, but remained untouched.
Optimus was silent. He leaned heavily in his chair with tiredness, both optics off while he drank.
"I will take a team to assess the damage on the Killtross. Then we will map out the core damage and return the results to Alpha Trion," Optimus replied carefully.
"Assess damage: what for? To find useful components?" Soundwave replied, tapping the tips of his claws against the surface of the lacquered table. It was obvious he was bored.
"Possibly."
Soundwave's visor darkened and he made a frustrated click with his vocalizer. "Other possibilities: remain?"
"Top secret clearance only," Optimus said loftily and he slammed his cube back down on the table in obvious annoyance. "Which you do not have. The Killtross is my ship and I'll do whatever I want with it."
The Autobot stood up and grabbed the weapons he had carelessly tossed to the side, integrating his guns back onto his body's weapon systems. They were hugely heavy and made it difficult to recharge with them on due to their bulk and uncomfortable mooring.
Soundwave hovered near him. "I wish to join you. I do not require information of objective. Top secret security clearance is not needed," the telepath reasoned.
"I would feel more comfortable if you remained here. It will be dangerous," Optimus replied idly as he smacked a forearm mounted gun that refused to pop into place properly.
The red in Soundwave's visor grew darker at the prospect of danger. "Decepticons: thrive off danger. Please allow me to accompany you. I will not make a mistake."
The stubborn gun on Prime's forearm finally snapped into place when Soundwave reached over and twisted the mounting a little to the side. Optimus snatched his arm away and bent over to pick up his electrum sword. After sliding it neatly into a cavity on his back, he briefly inspected his systems and made a click with his vocalizer.
"I already informed you of my decision," Optimus replied waspishly.
With that, the Autobot left Soundwave glaring behind him.
Now out of the Royal Palace and back out on the outside, Optimus was pleased to see that the continuation of the debris removal had been eventful. A few of the roadways had even been cleared as far as the gates that entered Iacon city. Optimus picked up his pace, trotting over to the group he had selected to come with him. Jazz was with them this time, and Ironhide waved a lazy hand at him.
"You're late!" the old weapons' master snapped. "What happened? Recharge too long?" he snickered.
Optimus rolled the light in his optics. "No. My gun wouldn't fit properly into its holdings."
"Is that what they're callin' it nowadays?" Jazz replied with a sharp grin.
"Enough," Prime said in a sharper, more exasperated tone. "We will begin our inspection of the Killtross. I've been informed that the best entrance will be on the right south side where a gash was torn in the hull."
Ironhide winced. "A gash in that size of a hull? Hopefully it's a repairable one."
"It goes without saying that Empties are presumed to be crawling all over the ship. Close range blasters out, nothing huge. I don't want to risk the integrity of the ship with someone's plasma cannons, Ironhide," Optimus accused, glaring at the old mech momentarily, "therefore keep it safe and smart. Small blasters… knives and swords too. The Empties here are desperate—" A collective laugh, "—more so than usual, and we would do well to keep on guard. I don't want to lose anyone because of a stupid mistake. We're going to inspect the ship in teams. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, Ironhide will go with you. Jazz comes with me. Any questions?"
Sunstreaker raised his hand with a sour expression on his face. "Yeah, how come Sides and I get stuck with the bitchy one?"
"I'll show you bitchy!" Ironhide snapped, jabbing both twins with the butt of his rifle to get them to turn around. "Now let's go, soldiers!"
Prime and Jazz followed behind as they scaled the debris around the rear of the Killtross. Every so often Optimus would call for a halt, stilling completely so they could listen to see if they were being followed. It was hard, but thankfully Jazz was more skilled at it than the rest.
"There are a few," Jazz said over an open communications channel, "they are following us deep below the rubble. Possibly down on the first floor beneath the surface. Old subway tunnels I think. The noise they make is very slight… but it's easy to discern if you're a properly trained."
"Thank you Captain Obvious," Sunstreaker snapped over the line. "Next time I'm having a good self service I'll remember how great you are and cum to your holy title."
The ensuing laughter over the line made Optimus smile as they continued forward. The smaller mechs sidled past two huge chunks of metal ship that were pressed closely together, but Optimus was too big and forced to climb up and quietly slide down the other side.
"Thought you did that already?" Jazz quipped back, earning more snickers in return. "Unless the other night was Sideswipe. You twins are hard to tell apart frame-wise."
"Hey, don't drag me into this!" Sideswipe snapped.
"Enough comm chatter," Optimus said firmly. "We will soon be entering the ship. Ironhide I'm switching you with Jazz. Jazz is right, he does know most about the Empties and he'll be able to help the twins more. Ironhide and I have our fair share of dealing with them."
"Optimus taking my recommendation? What is this?" Sunstreaker said in a bored voice.
"It's not because of you," Optimus replied testily. "Now stop. I grow tired of the bickering."
Two cycles had already passed since they had started out to find the entrance of the ship. A long gash started to appear along the ship's right underbelly, disappearing underneath.
"This is it; look for a gap wide enough to be used as an entrance," Optimus instructed.
The group split up, searching around the belly of the ship that was resting on the ground until Sideswipe made a triumphant noise. "Here. Might be a bit of a squeeze for Prime though."
The Autobots pulled away some rubble and sheets of metal debris. Jazz peered up the hole inside the ship, his headlamps shining brightly. "Looks safe. I'll go up first and have a look. Twins to follow. Prime's last since he's heaviest."
Optimus turned around when Jazz started to climb up into the belly of the ship through the hole. They couldn't have been the first to discover this entrance, and undoubtedly they were being observed. Optimus held a small blaster gun at the ready, scanning the landscape until Jazz's voice came through the communicator's line again.
"Condition of ship is actually really good besides this impact gash. It must have slammed into something really sharp or shielded, otherwise I would say the crash would have done little structural damage."
"So there's hope that we might be able to save it," Optimus responded, the relief palpable in his tone. "Or at least scavenge some parts."
When the rest of the mechs had gone through, Optimus followed as well. The gash of the ship was rusted from exposure, and a trail of a suspicious looking brown fluid had dripped down the thick tear to the outside. Optimus climbed up dutifully, his back scraping painfully into some of the narrower spots, but when he emerged on the lowest level of the ship, Optimus was instantly hit with the scent of decay.
"Primus," Optimus muttered.
All around them were the decayed, grey bodies of Autobots. Most of them had been stripped open of all useable internals.
Jazz suddenly collapsed onto the floor.
"Jazz!" Optimus said sharply.
The small mech was weeping weakly on the floor, banging his fist against the partially cracked surface of the deck.
"My bondmate! My bondmate! I must find him! Whatever is left…I must find him!" the saboteur cried weakly.
The blue in Optimus' optics widened. He had completely forgotten that Jazz's bondmate had died with the destruction of the Killtross. No wonder the saboteur had been so eager.
Optimus reached down and helped Jazz to stand on his pedes. "I forgot. You shouldn't have come here."
"No, I need to," Jazz said softly, his vocalizer crackling with static. "I need to find him. I swear if they fuckin' ripped him apart I'll—"
"—we'll find him, Jazz," Optimus interrupted. "And we'll give him a proper rite of passage. Just like we'll do with everyone on this ship soon. They deserve it."
Optimus carefully stepped around a body of what would have been a big gunner mech. The gray carcass was missing the lasercore and all internal components, but the spinal strut and outer protoform remained. Even the head hadn't been spared – the cranial cap had been sliced open cleanly and all parts removed, including the optics.
"Jazz, are you able to continue with the mission?" Optimus asked, reaching down to touch the mech's back.
Jazz flung an angry arm out and shoved Prime's hand away. "I'm fine. Let's go."
"Alright, we'll continue on. There might be a whole nest of Empties here, so I don't want anyone wandering off down any of the corridors. Previous plan... aborted. We stick together," Optimus said quietly, his optics darting around the broken walls and gaps in the ceiling.
"Good," Sideswipe said. "This shit is disturbing."
The floor creaked underneath his weight as he stepped forward and Jazz jumped forward and held a hand warningly against Prime's midsection.
"Sorry big bot, but you're going to have to take the rear. You're too heavy."
"Discrimination," Optimus complained moodily as the rest of the team filed in front of him.
The hallway was strewn with broken metal chunks, strange coloured stains on the floor and flecks of rust creeping up the walls. With only their headlamps to see, and infrared mostly pointless, the dim corridors were lit with a ghostly light, which occasionally illuminated a dismembered body.
"Look," Ironhide said, pointing ahead.
A huge gun turret that was retracted into the hull of the ship was tipped over on its side. The gun barrel was retracted into itself and several huge casings of missiles were strewn out to the side, along with a few rounds that were still live.
"Slag, be careful. If one of these goes off, it'll explode this entire section of the ship," Ironhide commented as he observed the missiles from a distance, shining his headlamps over the area to see the various ammunition strewn around.
"Do they have an expiration date?" Optimus asked.
"Yes, I'm shocked none of them have gone off yet. Especially with the Empties messing with things they shouldn't," Ironhide replied.
A sudden clicking noise caught Optimus off guard.
He froze and spun around, lunging forward to collide bodily with a surprisingly large force. The hit sent him skidding to the side, slamming hard into a wall.
There was little time to recover. Four Empties rushed through a passage behind Optimus, landing onto the ground lightly where they scurried over to the rest of the group, wailing their Empty cries. They no longer had plating and barely resembled a Cybertronian. Naked struts, wiring and energon pumps were all that was left.
However, the original Empty that had assaulted Prime did have plating except on his helm. With a hiss of aggression, Optimus lunged forward again and slammed into the mech, grappling with the sharp clawed hands that kept going for his neck. The beast snapped its maw, mismatched optics unerring and disturbing as it clacked its jaws and made a noise like two pieces of metal being rubbed harshly against each other.
Optimus struggled to push the mech back. He pressed hard with the arches of his pedes against the grated surface of the floor, pushing the Empty back against the downward slope of the hallway. Suddenly Prime dropped to the floor, kicking out viciously with both of his legs while simultaneously curling the deadly arches of his pedes inward to use as a pair of talons – the result was a sickening crunch of the Empty's legs where the frail knee joints snapped in half. Optimus then surged upwards and with a fierce slice of his hand, severed the mech's head from his spinal strut. It lolled to the side obscenely, spraying over-processed, disgusting mechblood outwards in a fine mist that soon died. The head rolled off down the hall where they had come.
However Optimus had barely stood when he was tackled by a much smaller force. He went rolling and hissed with pain when a pair of sharp claws jabbed into his sides, expertly seeking out his vital fuel lines.
"Fuck!" Ironhide shouted from behind Optimus.
The rest of the team was fully engaged with fighting the fast moving Empties, unable to shoot or risk triggering a reaction with the leftover shells from the Great War.
Optimus reached behind him, trying to get the savage Empty off of his back, but he couldn't reach it. With bright blue optics he slammed his back hard against the wall next to him, reaching around to pull off the small grotesque cannibal to toss it across the room where it snapped its huge maw one last time before going offline.
Prime saw the next one coming. It bounded across the floor on all fours, coolant water streaming from its partly severed mouth. Optimus drew his electrum sword out and parried to the side, easily dodging the small creature while he beheaded it with ease when he spun to the side.
Optimus slid the sword back into the hold on his back, then looked for the next target, his battle mode still activated.
"Is everyone okay?" he called.
With a thunk and a squeal, Sunstreaker stabbed the last Empty viciously in the head before pushing it away from himself with his knee.
"Yeah, we're fine Prime," Sideswipe called.
"I didn't even hear those fuckers until they attacked," Jazz said, flicking his hand out to splatter some of the disgusting smelling black energon on the wall. "They've evolved…or degenerated these ones. Pure instinct now."
"Optimus, are you alright?" Ironhide finally asked as he stepped closer to his leader with a concerned look in his abnormally bright optics.
"Yes," Optimus said a bit gruffly. "We should go before more come."
The group continued on, taking a hallway to the left.
"Where was Meister last located?" Optimus asked through the communication's unit again.
"Medbay," Jazz answered stiffly.
The group trotted on, with Prime in the back trying to keep his steps as quiet as possible. The feat was fruitless, but Optimus continued his scans of the interior of the ship.
"It's so huge in here," Sideswipe commented. "No way we'll be able to go through all of it today, right?"
"I agree," Prime said. "With all the debris in here, we'll never get to the engine room."
"Then let's stop in the medbay and find Meister. We need more muscle to really get down into the bowels of the engine room," Ironhide commented. "I want a few snipers posted around this ship. We'll have the entire Empty population of Iacon in here if we make too much of a presence."
The ship suddenly creaked eerily. Optimus hissed, calling for a halt as a mournful noise of bending metal echoed throughout the cargo bay they were in. The space was huge and Prime's headlamps couldn't illuminate the other end of the unloading bay.
"My suggestion is we get to the narrowest hallway as soon as we can. There's a fuck ton of them coming towards us fast!" Jazz shouted.
Optimus took his subordinate's advice and started to run, along with the rest of the crew. Prime turned and glanced behind him, unable to see any body heat in his infrared, but he knew the Empties were right behind them. A hand suddenly swiped into the field of Prime's light, spurring him to move even faster. They skidded into a narrow hallway that rose at a sharp incline.
"The medbay doors should be right up here!" Jazz yelled.
The grated incline ended, opening up into a wide chamber with two large doors situated to the side. They were tightly shut, but the right had a huge crater sized dent in the blast proof doors. Prime spun around and with a fierce howl, flung himself forward at the nearest Empty behind him. He knocked it over into the one behind it and reached on his back for his sword, rushing forward so he could stamp on the fallen cannibal's head to cleave through the one behind it.
However the hallway was short and Optimus was knocked off balance by slamming the flat of his blade hard into the wall. Sparks flecked down and Optimus retreated, narrowly avoiding a sharp pair of claws from an Empty that had anchored himself onto the ceiling. The thing dropped down and Optimus was only able to avoid it by jerking back, tripping over his own massive pedes on the incline of the ramp. Reactively the Autobot shielded himself with his arm at the impending blow from the Empty.
Nothing. A cool, calm energy swept over Optimus' spark.
The large mech looked up. The Empty in front of him stopped moving, angling its broken face to the side as if in mock curiosity. An optic was hanging lose from the thing's face by a dangling cord and Optimus stood, taking a hasty step backwards. Then, the Empty's head detached itself completely from its neck and the body stood convulsing for a few seconds, black fluids bubbling out of its severed stump before it finally collapsed. Prime's headlights shone brilliantly, just in time to illuminate a blood-spattered Soundwave behind it. He uncaringly dropped the head he had wrenched off and it cluttered off somewhere in the shadows.
"You! What are you doing here? I told you to stay at the palace!" Optimus snapped angrily. He sheathed his sword, crossing his arms over his chassis.
Soundwave lowered his stained hands back to his sides. "Incorrect: Optimus Prime: stated he would be more comfortable if I stayed. I wished to sacrifice some of my bondmate's comfort."
"You knew precisely what I meant," Optimus snarled, stalking closer.
He slammed the telepath up against the wall, flaring his energy field out angrily. The large mech leaned down so close to Soundwave's face that their facemasks were almost touching. Soundwave's visor was already glowing an ember red and his energy field coyly pretended to be submissive, despite the fact that Prime could feel the anticipation boiling just underneath.
"Are they the danger to me?" Soundwave murmured with a low tone. "Or are you?"
Prime could feel the slide of Soundwave's hot plating against his body and the bond allowed him to experience the fast pulsing of the telepath's spark, just behind that glass chestplate. It was intimate, exciting, and alarming.
A flare of sexual aggression leaked from Optimus causing Soundwave's spark to pulse even faster. "I'd fuck you right here you smarmy little—"
But then he stopped, realising that they had a crowd watching them. He let Soundwave go and brandished a finger at him instead.
"Don't do it again," Prime warned, turning back while the twins stepped aside for him. "Can we get into the medbay?" he asked tetchily.
Jazz had paid no attention to the exchange. He was struggling with the two sides of the door, trying to wedge a knife in between so he could attempt to pry them open.
"No… they're stuck," the saboteur finally conceded.
"Step back," Optimus instructed.
He reached into his subspace and pulled out a cylindrical rod. When it activated, it instantly burned a hole into the floor and Optimus pulled it up, cutting away the giant blast doors of the medbay. A molten chunk fell off and landed near his pedes.
"What caused that dent? These doors are as thick as I am tall," Ironhide rumbled.
"Something from the inside, obviously," Optimus snapped.
Sunstreaker had taken several steps backwards, staring at Soundwave with suspicious optics.
"Is this one…" Sideswipe said slowly, pointing at Soundwave, "supposed to be out here?"
"He has a name and yes, he's fine," Optimus replied.
Sideswipe held his hands up apologetically as if to say 'sorry you're in a bad mood, dude' but before more words could be said, the sounds of metal hitting against metal echoed up through the pipes around them. They were all on high-alert, bodies tense and ready to defend themselves.
Jazz whipped his helm around, his visor fixating directly onto Soundwave.
"I know what mods you got hiding in there," he harshly said. "What aren't you telling us?"
Soundwave shifted his weight from one pede to another and tilted his chin back to peer over his shoulder, seemingly unconcerned. "I can sense them a level below us. Amount: over twenty in number. In addition: there are three hostile combatants to the left of us. Distance: currently half a joor and closing."
As if on cue, a rattling hiss travelled down the dark hallway.
"I am adept at dispatching the threat. Should I terminate?" Soundwave asked monotonously, addressing his bondmate.
With an angry growl, Optimus reached across and physically grabbed Soundwave, pulling him close to his side. "No, you shouldn't even be here right now. If you think I'm going to allow you to do as you wish because you purposely disobeyed me, you're very wrong."
"My deepest apologies, my lord," Soundwave said.
Sunstreaker raised his blaster and fired down the hallway, illuminating the dark tunnel for a brief second. The Empty squealed in pain, dropping back as another one came running up behind him, nearly silent. With an irritated noise, Ironhide walked next to Sunstreaker and reached up where two guns were holstered on his back plating, he drew them over his head and they transformed into an even larger weapon when he finally brought them down to bear.
"Watch and learn kid," Ironhide snickered.
Optimus could hear the whine of the weapon as it charged. He stopped to look as it fired a brilliant blue blast, spraying the hallway and three Empties in a thick coating of liquid nitrogen. Then the red mech fired off a slug, causing the entire hallway and Empties to shatter into a trillion pieces. Next to Prime, Soundwave stared elsewhere as if distinctively bored with the whole affair.
Prime drew a hand up to his facemask. "Ironhide. Please, I want to repair this ship." However, a moment later, Optimus noticed his mistake and glared at Soundwave for being there. "You ever repeat that and I'll make sure you never see the light of day again," he snarled at his bondmate.
"Would you prefer that I return to the room assigned to us?" Soundwave asked.
It was apparent that Prime was growing distressed with the entire situation and Jazz tore his gaze away from the door for a moment to stare at the telepath. "No, you're staying here," Jazz said. "Then when we get back, Alpha Trion's gonna pay you a little visit. See what you've been up to running around out here."
The air of indifference that hung around Soundwave rippled slightly, displaying just for a moment his own exasperation. He tore his own gaze away without a word and took a step away from the both of them.
"As you wish, my lord," he intoned.
The last piece of the doorway was only hanging by a thread of metal. Optimus kicked it out of the way and stepped through to the inside. His headlights cut through the darkness, bringing light to the inside of the chamber that had obviously not been entered in a long time. A thick layer of sediment and metal flakes were laying on the floor, along with upturned medical berths and a plethora of scattered bodies and body parts. A part of the ceiling fixture had collapsed, cutting the room in half, but it had apparently not compromised the security. Part of it had slammed into the doorway, effectively preventing the doublewide doors from ever opening again.
"Oh, I forgot the medbay had two levels," Ironhide said. "This is obviously the floor from the second room."
Sideswipe cautiously stuck his head inside the room through the makeshift doorway. "If it's okay with you guys, I'm staying out here."
Optimus looked back, motioning to Sunstreaker as well. "Stand watch with Sideswipe."
Prime then issued a sharp growl to Soundwave, flaring his energy field. "You stay with me. No wandering off."
There was little else they could do but begin piling the bodies in one end of the medbay. Each one that wasn't Meister was both painful and uplifting. Optimus knew Jazz wanted to see his bondmate again, but he also knew that confirming his death would make it that much more unbearable.
When most of the medbay had been cleared, Optimus finally noticed a figure laying against the main console towards the end of the room. He padded over, carefully stepping over debris with Soundwave right behind him. The mech was red in colour, and besides being offline, appeared to have no significant wounds. Optimus peered closer, noticing his Decepticon symbol and a tiny flashing light on his exposed medical port, a cord sticking out and connected to the console.
"We have a live Decepticon!" Optimus called out.
Ironhide was beside him in an instant, gun raised while he warily watched the figure.
"Should we kill him? He's just leeching from the system's battery unit," Ironhide grumbled.
Optimus flipped open a tiny port on the mech's wrist and extracted a tiny chip. He inserted it into another port on his own wrist, silent for a moment as his systems read the Decepticon's data.
"Part of the Decepticon special ops."
Soundwave's flat voice answered the rest of their unanswered question concerning the Decepticon's identity. "Designation: Mindwipe. Do not bring him out of stasis. Recommendation: terminate him. Subject: too troublesome."
Optimus glanced at Soundwave once before he pulled the Decepticon's plug out from his medical port, disconnecting him from the console. He roughly turned Mindwipe around so he was laying on his front. Optimus pulled at the Decepticon's neck and carefully severed the wires of his spinal struts with no compassion, leaving him paralyzed.
"We'll bring him out of stasis back on base. Alpha Trion will deal with him."
Somehow, an annoyed tone managed to creep into Soundwave's monotone. "Mindwipe: hypnotist. Recommendation: blindfold him. His control modifications are located behind his optics." Soundwave's vents exhaled deeply as if to say 'you foolish Autobots'.
Optimus reached forward and smacked Soundwave harshly, sending the mech spinning to the side. "We'll deal with it, my queen," Optimus snapped.
He grabbed Mindwipe again, and taking a knife from his subspace, stabbed the blade right through the Decepticon's optic. He ground the knife against the back of the ocular cavity, creating a sickening noise as he twisted it and then pulled, yanking the wires out. He did the same with the other optic, then crushed both of them in his hands and grabbed Soundwave's, giving the mashed-up pieces to his mate.
"You happy now? My precious, pretty, little bitch of a queen?"
The red in Soundwave's visor blazed with fury. Though the bond between them was locked tight, it was easy to discern the rattled energy field that rolled off the telepath. He crushed the remains of the optical glass in his palms.
Optimus stepped closer, lowering his helm to the height of his bondmate's. "Turns me on when you get so angry…makes it so much fun to fuck it out of you later."
Soundwave actually hissed low in his vocaliser at that and turned away, stepping past Ironhide who was pointedly ignoring them both. Then Prime slung the still-unconscious Mindwipe over his shoulder and strode off so he could dump the Decepticon by the doorway with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The large mech in stasis slumped down and flopped to his side while both twins sidestepped him, unwilling to help or even touch his plating with the tip of their pede.
"All clear, sir," Sunstreaker informed Prime.
"Good. We'll—"
He was interrupted by the loud noise of debris being thrown to the side. Jazz was digging into a large pile of twisted metal, support struts and jagged pieces of plating from where the ceiling from the second level had sustained the most damage. The saboteur had obviously found something of interest and he was trying to yank out the large pieces so he could clear some room.
"C'mon…c'mon…" he was saying to himself, completely absorbed in his task.
There was a greyed-out arm half visible from beneath the rubble, palm facing upwards. A closer look to Jazz's face revealed his tightly drawn mouth and the wild blue glow from his visor. He had found his long dead bondmate.
Prime nodded at Ironhide who had slung his weapon over his shoulder and hopped quickly over the debris so he could help Jazz remove the final pieces. When Prime neared them just in time to push away a fallen medical observational unit, Jazz dropped to his knees and banged his fist against the floor. His vents stuttered, distressed clicks and static pouring out of his vocaliser unheeded. The long cold body of Meister had remained thankfully intact from the neck up. What had killed the unfortunate mech was a massive piece of equipment that must have flown at him at lightning speed, causing his chestplate to cave in from the impact and his lasercore to crack. There were still shards of it embedded into the empty cavity of his chest.
"He would have felt no pain, Jazz," Ironhide said softly. "It was quick."
Jazz carefully pulled Meister's limp body out, cradling him to himself. He rocked himself on the floor and sobbed silently, rubbing his face against Meister's.
"Why the fuck did Prowl have to fucking decide to stop for lightspeed right out of the planet's atmosphere? If that idiot had waited Meister would still be alive!" Jazz shouted angrily.
Optimus put his hands up. "Prowl wasn't conspiring an end because he wanted to, Jazz. Prowl was making his best calls as a commander and it didn't work. Everyone makes mistakes."
"This was a big slagging mistake!" Jazz snarled.
Optimus Prime looked away. "He'll be the first to admit that."
Optimus was the Autobot officiator of funerals. With his title, it fell to him to recognize and honour the Autobot dead in the ways that their customs dictated. Meister was no different – as a medic he was given special honour for his service and laid to rest upon one of the crystal tables in the royal gardens. Only the small group of Autobot Optimus had brought with him attended the ceremony – Soundwave was not allowed and not welcome.
With Jazz kneeling in front of his bondmate, clutching onto him, Optimus sang a low and sorrowful song in high Autobot, casting a stillness over the entire garden.
"We cherish and mourn our forgotten dead," Optimus finally spoke. He stepped forward and brushed a hand across Meister's face, then Jazz's. "His spark lives on in the undying well of allsparks, cradled next to Primus."
The crystal bed that Meister was laying on suddenly lit brilliantly, along with the rest of the beautiful crystal gardens following, with every colour being seen. It painted everything in a mosaic of imagery, perversely beautiful for what the real intent of the spot was.
Slowly Meister's body began to break down. The crystals contained an element that ate the special metal of Cybertronians, breaking it down and using it as energy to keep growing. The crystal gardens were memorials to the dead as much as they were the dead.
Jazz clutched Meister's hand until it came time to let go.
As always, leave us a review!