Prism 8
A Transformers Prime Fanfiction
Fracture
Jack sat blank faced as he listened to the story. His fingers traced idly over the smooth interior of Megatron's cockpit. The human took a shuddering breath and shook his head. It was simply too much to take in.
"Okay, next question. Where's Optimus Prime?"
He felt the air around him stir and sensed the energy flowing through the mech tense even through the blocks the human had put up. The silence in the small space seemed to stretch out before Megatron answered.
"Optimus is one with the Allspark," the confession was a hoarse whisper full of pain and guilt.
Jack's naturally compassionate soul went out to the mech at the suffering he heard and in response sparks of soft energy flickered from his circling fingertips into the warm mesh of the Cybertronian unnoticed by either party. But Megatron felt their effect as the pain around his spark lessened and he resumed gently stroking the human.
"How?" Jack asked.
There was another pause and then.
"I killed him," it was more the bitterness and self reproach in the Warlord's voice than the words themselves that made Jack catch his breath.
"I don't understand," the human murmured.
"Tell me Jackson, has your Optimus ever mentioned our age old enemy?"
"Ah, Unicron?"
A dry chuckle echoed through the cabin.
"No, not the Unmaker."
"I can't say he's mentioned it."
A long vent of air echoed through the cockpit and the entire jet shuddered with barely repressed emotion. Jack stroked the mech again sending a wave of reassurance through him.
"I should begin at the beginning. I was originally a miner; one of the lowest classes of mechs on Cybertron. I found escape from the mine and some measure of fame in the Gladiator pits of Kaon."
The human nodded and shifted again as the stroking of the harness increased. There was something inherently different in the way Megatron was doing it compared to how Optimus did. Jack was hard pressed to pinpoint the exact deviation; the pressure was about the same, the straps never wandered anywhere that would make him squirm, but still there was something off. It was as if, the human finally decided, when the Prime stroked him the main purpose was to give comfort to the human, the Warlord was seeking comfort from the gesture. That realization, pinning down the source of his unease calmed the raven haired youth and he settled a bit more comfortably into the seat. If this mech needed his comfort he was willing to give it. Unconsciously the light flowing from his fingers into the warm mesh changed color and the mech's story was interrupted by a low noise, almost, but not quite a purr before he continued.
The first part of the tale was much the same as what Jack had already heard from Ratchet and Optimus but something seemed off about the time frame. Jack was by no means an expert on Cybertronian concepts of time, Raf would have probably made more sense of that aspect of the story, but it sounded like the two great mechs had been in communication for longer than they had in the human's home verse.
"When it came time for me to speak before the counsel our audience was canceled mere hours before we arrived. I was furious and Orion spent no little time and effort calming me," there was a moment of silence as both the mech's voice and straps stilled.
"He was perhaps the only being who could have turned my anger. He convinced me to apply again. We kept in constant contact as the new appointed time drew near, until he simply stopped communicating with me. I feared something had happened to him but to my shame did not investigate, thinking he had fallen prey to the wiles of the corrupt senators. I was a fool to even consider such a thing. A few shifts before we were scheduled to appear Orion suddenly arrived in Kaon. While he was physically fine he appeared shaken to his very spark. He requested a private audience with me and I granted it."
Megatron ceased speaking and stayed silent longer this time.
"Megatronous my friend; I come to you in dire need with a request that few could grant, fewer would grant."
The silver gladiator gazed into those cerulean optics as the red and blue mech sat slumped on the bench in front of him and felt a twinge of fear such as he had only ever felt in the ring. He had grown to know this quiet mech through the conversations they had shared and the short time they had spent together. No matter how heated and passionate their debates had become the archivist had always maintained his composure, but now there was raw terror seeming to gleam straight from Pax's spark, barely held in check by his mighty processor. It suddenly dawned on Megatronous how much he had come to respect Orion. A strange need stirred in the battle hardened mech. He would provide for this one.
"Make what request you will of me my brother," the gladiator stated, "whatever the cost, if it is in my power I will grant it."
Silver faceplates rose from black servos and Orion Pax drew in a long shuddering vent to cool his systems.
"I need you to help me seize the Iacon Counsel Chambers."
O
O
"Wait, what?" Jack demanded incredulously, interrupting the tale.
"Indeed," Megatron rumbled sadness and amusement both in his tone, "such was my response as well. I could not believe my audio receptors at first. What he proposed was high treason. I remained silent as he said to me that he was not free to give me any explanation on how he knew certain information but that the senators were in grave danger, all of Cybertron was in danger, and we had but a short time to plan our attack."
O
O
"You are my only recourse Megatronous," the archivist stated reaching out to grip his forearm.
"You mean I am the only mech you know mad enough to even consider what you ask," the gladiator replied.
"You are the only ally I have who would even stand a chance of succeeding in the task."
Orion knew the larger mech realized suddenly. The peaceful mech had an understanding of what this would require, what the cost would be. Red optics narrowed in consideration as the red and blue mech pressed his case. Pax's vocalizer stilled as the silver gladiator suddenly stood and strode to the door. The cobalt blue helm dropped in defeat, his friend had been his only real hope for an ally in this matter, he had no delusions of success if he besieged the Council Chambers alone. He rose to his peds tiredly and moved to follow the other mech out of the gladiator's sparse personal chambers.
"Brother," Orion started quietly, "I need to know one thing. When all is said and done, you will believe I acted on the urging of my spark for the good of Cybertron, not out of madness."
The larger mech turned from the cabinet he had just opened and looked at the smaller in surprise.
"You plan on taking the Chambers alone?" he demanded. "With what weapons?"
Orion transformed his hands into the short utility blades his model was fitted with and studied them intently for a long moment. He was about to respond when Megatronous gave a derisive laugh. Slightly offended the archivist glanced up at his friend and then stiffened in shock. The larger mech was holding a sword half as long as he was and standing in front of the door challengingly.
"You are a fool Orion, if you think for one moment you will make it past the guardians of the senate."
"I must try," the archivist stated strange desperation in his voice.
"Then try me. I am only one and I have no ranged weapons on me."
"I will not fight you my brother," Orion said with a long exvent.
"Then you will not leave this chamber."
The red and blue mech's helm snapped up and he glared in shock at his friend. More swiftly than the gladiator would have thought possible the smaller form darted at him and the short but sturdy blade cut up. Orion was good, the larger mech realized in surprise as he caught the red arm and lightly threw his chassis to the floor. This was actually making him pay attention. He pressed the edge of the blade to the sensitive cables at the joining of the archivist's helm and chestplates and gave a smug smirk, the kind he knew aggravated the tactful mech. How he did enjoy that stunned look on those silver faceplates.
"If you cannot even stand against me are you still determined to do this?" he demanded roughly.
No answer was vocalized but the blue optics glared up at him in determination.
"And if I try to stop this madness?"
The larger mech was not prepared for the look of hurt and betrayal that flickered across Orion's faceplates and a spasm of guilt flickered through his spark. But the look was soon replaced with one of determination as the smaller mech spoke up.
"Brother, I do not wish to fight you, but I must do this. I," Orion shuttered his optics in shock as a deep rumbling laugh filled the room.
The blade lifted off his neck and the sword was dropped heavily into his hands.
"That is what I needed to hear my brother," the gladiator laughed.
His ruby red optics glittered like dying stars and a deep rumble rolled out from his chest as he reached out one massive taloned hand to help Orion up.
"I will not let you do this alone. If you are so very determined, then by all means lead on. Let it be treason!"