Prism 5
A Transformers Prime Fanfiction
Vision
Fowler left Jack in the charge of the ward nurse; a capable old woman who had served in the armed forced for decades, and strode out into the command center.
"Who in the name of Uncle Sam's best bowtie is he talking about?" the human demanded irritably as he jogged up the stairs.
He was about to repeat the question but a warning look from Ratchet silenced him. Megatron was clearly deep in thought; red optics unfocused and servos clenched. Even though the great mech was not moving his entire frame appeared to be vibrating with emotion. The human had thought he had seen the depths of the Cybertronian's spark in the past, but now he stared at a powerful reminder of just how little he really knew of this alien who their lives and freedom depended on.
With a final shuddering ex-vent the Warlord disentangled his talons from the remains of the consol. Fowler quickly shoved aside the ever amusing image of Ratchet scolding the far larger mech with his usual cant of 'I needed that!'. He could tell from the deadly serious look in the medic's optics that this was a serious matter.
"I need you to question him further," Megatron finally said, clearly fighting to control his voice. "Find out what he knows about Optimus."
"So this is a real Cy?" Fowler demanded.
"Yes General," the ebony mech almost whispered. "Optimus Prime was very real. But he passed into the Well of Allsparks many vorns ago."
Seeming to shake himself Megatron spun on the human.
"Return to the room now."
Nodding curtly the man turned to go. Blood red optics followed him out then snapped down to the medic.
"Your theory."
"I told you I am not…"
"Your. Best. Working. Theory. Now."
Ratchet knew better than to argue with his commander when he used that tone. He drew in a long vent of air to cool his systems and triggered a new screen on the display. This one simply showed an odd set of groundbridge coordinates.
"You are aware of how a regular spacebridge system functions. The wormhole that is created is highly unstable. There are quite literally thousands of systems that need to be in place to make it practically functional making multiple units impractical; interphasial generations, vortex stabilizers, mass displacement regulatory programs, and the list goes on. However one key factor has always been the smaller the mass the fewer the complications. Also that transporting anything without energon or a spark is less of a bother. This was the theory behind our new rescue portals. If a team was damaged anywhere in Sol System the humans at least could be transported back to the safety of the main control center."
Megatron nodded as his optics reaffixed on the display. Fowler had entered the room and was cautiously engaging Jack in conversation. The medic was wracking his processor for a way to explain a concept to the warrior in simple terms that he didn't properly understand himself.
"There was one major difference in the design," Ratchet continued. "Normally a spacebridge or a groundbridge forms the naturally unstable wormhole between two points in spacetime and the added systems keep it stable. Because worrying about sparks wasn't a problem Perceptor was able to utilize another method. It essentially reaches out to a third point for stability, like an anchor. It creates an incredibly stable bridge, with a longer range than any groundbridge, not the range of a spacebridge but much safer. The stability stems from the fact that the third point actually digs into the very fabric of reality."
"And how does that explain this?" Megatron demanded indicating the tense situation in the medical room.
"Even though the tech is old; it predates not only the Fall but the original occupation, it is poorly understood even now. Put simply we have no idea what the third branch attaches to. The one theory that makes any kind of sense is that it tethers the energy of this reality to another, by finding a point in the theoretical other reality as close as possible to our own." Ratchet paused in thought. "There was a power surge," he said softly, "if it hit just as Jack's mass was at the apex of the three branches, assuming the 'tether' branch was attached to a version of Jack in another reality it may have bumped him into that one while pulling this Jack that we see into our own."
The Warlord nodded slowly, and to Ratchet's surprise appeared to calm down.
"This means that our Jack is probably in an unknown universe and most likely as frightened and disorientated as this one is," the amber and white mech cautiously pointed out.
"Perhaps, my friend, perhaps. Only recall that this Jack has been demanding to see Optimus Prime. It would stand to reason that it is he and not I who leads the Cybertronian forces in this other dimension, and I cannot imagine my charge coming to any harm while under the care of Cybertron's greatest Prime. Now," and the red optics fixed on the medic, "I will continue to monitor this conversation while you find a way to reverse the process."
Ratchet bowed respectfully. He knew his Lord Protector well enough than to bother pointing out that it was only a theory, that they did not even know if it was possible to reverse it, that it was possible the power surge had simply incinerated their Jack. The medic had been given his orders, and he followed them.
"So you are afraid I'm in league with the enemy," Fowler said with a tired sigh as one chocolate brown hand rose to rub tired eyes. "An enemy that includes Megatron."
He glanced up to see how his statement had been received and was met with a cold even stare. The officer was trying not to show it but he was growing more unnerved by the second. This was the young man he had helped to raise, he probably knew him better than he did most of his soldiers, but there was something off and it had nothing to do with the weird rewrite of history the kid seemed to be experiencing, and while his brain had long ago accepted the fact that Jackson Darby Megatronus was a skilled soldier and would face dangers in battle, the older man's heart still rebelled at the thought of something wrong with little Jackie. The General shook his head to clear it and tried a different tack.
"Okay kid, it's like this. Right now you don't trust me, and for the sake of the argument let's say that you might have a reason. But you are not getting out of this room until you give me something. So why don't you assume the worst case scenario; your enemy Megatron has captured you, both I and Ratchet are working with him, and he is listening to every word. Working from that, tell me everything that Megatron knows, not what he could have learned from capturing a three-star general mind you, just what he knows on his own."
Jack shifted uncomfortably. He was loath to give anything to the other in this situation but what the man said made a kind of sense. The youth nodded slowly and a thoughtful look fixed on his face. What could he say that wouldn't endanger the real agent Fowler and the Autobots? The history of Cybertron was good, that the Autobots were on Earth. He had no idea how much Megatron knew about the alliance with the human governments so he would avoid that. With a deep breath the youth began to speak.
"I guess it all began on Cybertron, back in what they call the Golden Age, before the civil war."
Fowler nodded and let his recorder do its work on the facts while he watched the youth. As far as he could tell Jack thought he was telling the truth as the story came out; a tale of ambition, hope for the future, lofty goals, all coming crashing down in betrayal and lust for power. He was not the only watcher. Standing alone in front of the flickering green screen Megatron stood his faceplates frozen in shock.
Jack finally stopped talking and glared at the skeptical look on Fowler's face.
"So, Megatron leads a group called the Decepticreeps."
"Decepticons."
"Close enough for Government work kid, against the heroic Autobots who are trying to protect our world from the Cons, and you know all this because?" the man asked.
"Because Optimus and Ratchet told me, and while neither is exactly an impartial source both are completely honest."
"Listen Jack," Fowler began but fell silent when his communicator gave a signal.
The man paused and raised a finger to his ear as he listened to what Megatron was saying. Fowler's eyes suddenly widened and he began to sputter a bit but after a short time he nodded and gave a long sigh. The youth watched him suspiciously from the bed.
"Kid, you know much about alternate dimensions?"
"Maybe," Jack replied cautiously.
Fowler opened his mouth to continue when the wall of the room began to shift and fold back on itself. Quicker than Jack would have thought possible the room was gone and a massive black hand had scooped him up from where he perched on the bed. He was vaguely aware of Fowler demanding to know what was going on and of Megatron rumbling out that he had tried Fowler's way long enough. The youth was aware that they were passing through corridors and then his stomach lurched as the entire world seemed to rearrange around him.
Jack found himself strapped into the cockpit of a fighter jet. By the time his mind had recognized that fact sudden acceleration pushed him back into the seat. He gasped for breath as the G forces pulled at his body, crushing the air out of his lungs. Just as he thought he was about to black out the pressure released just enough for him to regain his senses. The blue sky above his head was rapidly fading to the black of space on the other side of the canopy.
Thousands of stars suddenly appeared around him and despite the situation the youth found his breath taken away again by the beauty of the panorama. The stars seemed to roll overhead and suddenly Earth swung into view, growing smaller as they pulled away. A deep and inexplicable sense of peace seemed to flow over Jack and he relaxed somewhat into the seat that held him. The silence seemed to stretch with only the sound of Megatron's engines and the human's heartbeat filling the compartment. Finally Jack took a deep breath.
"What do you want Megatron?" his voice was carefully neutral.
"Look at me."
"I'm in your cockpit," the human stated with a frown, "no matter where I look I'm looking at you."
"No Jackson. Look at me," the Warlord's emphasis on the verb made Jack stiffen.
How could the Decepticon leader possibly know about that? There was no way. He had to be misunderstanding him.
"Jackson, I know that you are not limited to the five senses that humanity claims," the mech growled as if reading his mind. "Now if you want to understand what is going on, look at me."
"Fine!" the youth muttered deciding that there was little danger in doing as the jet instructed.
He closed his eyes and began the breathing exercises that Zech had taught him. The older human had assured him that with practice neither method would be necessary and the raven haired youth had had some success in using his other sense but worked up as he was he needed every advantage he could get to calm down enough and focus. Soon though his heart rate slowed and the world resolved around him into light. He gave a startled cry and his eyes snapped open shattering the vision.