Worlds Apart
The Battle's Over
The white room was becoming uncomfortably familiar. Optimus looked around at the others. Perceptor was working on mild repairs, anything to keep him going. Hot Shot was going to lose it if this third mystery bot didn't show himself and explain. Prowl watched patiently, possibly going over outcomes in his head. Optimus smile.
"I apologize for keeping you four waiting…"
The white wall peeled away into a cut green. The mystery bot slipped through, his sword passing in front of him. Hot Shot tensed, striding forward only to be held back by Prowl. Perceptor pushed himself up so he was equal level as the others.
"Ratchet is going to have my head when he sees these damages. What am I supposed to tell him?" whispered Perceptor.
"Tell him you were dimension jumping," laughed Hot Shot.
"Har har har," mumbled Perceptor.
"You really going to take us back home again?" Prowl asked.
"Of course," the bot replied warmly. "That is the only reason I am intervening."
"Who are you supposed to be anyway? How'd you cut through the dimension thing like you did? I thought you needed a machine like the others to do that not a sword," snapped Hot Shot.
"Hold your vocal processors, Hot Shot," the bot ordered. "You two fast for one to answer all those questions."
"How'd you know my name?" hissed Hot Shot.
"I know all four of you and many more. I know, also, where you belong. As for cutting through the dimension gates, I am the one who began that practice," the bot chuckled.
"Really?" Perceptor perked.
"Don't tell me you know something the rest of us don't," growled Hot Shot.
"Do tell, Perceptor," Optimus offered.
"If memory serves, the first known time and space travel was given to one of the first thirteen, Vector Prime," Perceptor hummed.
"Correct," Vector replied.
"So you're Vector Prime, one of the originals," Prowl whispered. "Wonderful."
"I will send you back to your worlds now. Who's first?" Vector offered.
"What about this?" Optimus asked, lifting the remaining chip.
"We almost got killed over this thing," Hot Shot screamed. "We better not throw it away!"
"I'll take it!" perked Perceptor, snatching the chip. "Maybe I could work on the dimensional traveler as well. Not for destruction use."
"Who's first?" Vector repeated.
"I'll go first," Optimus nodded.
"As well," Vector nodded, cutting his sword along the white light.
The green glittered brightly against the faded white. Vector offered the first step. Optimus sighed, looking back at his comrades. They looked wearily back at him. something just didn't feel right about leaving so soon and without so much as a goodbye involved.
"If it helps in anyway, this is not a permit goodbye," Vector informed.
"What?" Optimus gasped.
"You four will be needed again for a future time crisis. But that is giving too much information away," nodded Vector. "We must get going."
"Can you tell us our futures or something?" Hot Shot begged.
"Yeah, like who wins the war?" Prowl requested.
"That would jeopardize your world, now. If you knew outcomes, the chance of fate and destiny will be useless, now wouldn't it?" smirked Vector. "But I can tell you, hard times are ahead."
"Goodbye and good luck, I do suppose," Perceptor shrugged.
"Right back at you," smiled Optimus, passing into the doorway.
"So we will meet again and all right?" Hot Shot verified before Vector followed after Optimus.
"Of course but when I will take you out of time is a matter of things," Vector answered.
"What kind of answer is that!" snapped Hot Shot.
"He means that we won't know when he'll take us. It could be tomorrow. It could be seven years. It could a millennium!" Prowl explained.
"Now you get smart," grumbled Hot Shot.
Vector entered the dimension gape as the two began their argument. He found Optimus looking among the statis pods but with no curiosity toward his own. Vector chuckled, tapping his sword on the empty and open statis pod. Optimus turned his attention but didn't seem too pleased to see his open statis pod.
"You have to go in, Optimus," Vector sighed. "Or you'll mess up with time grid."
"How much longer though?" Optimus asked, approaching the pod.
"Five or six more stellar cycles should do it," nodded Vector.
"Will I even remember this?" Optimus asked, looking up at Vector.
"Probably not but that's for the better," assured Vector. "We can't have you knowing that you are more important elsewhere than here."
"Of course," grumbled Optimus, slipping into the pod. "Can you tell me what causes the future time problems then? After all I won't remember it."
"Smart one, aren't you? The problem lies within the solution I am afraid," Vector answered.
"In the solution? One of us?" Optimus asked, leaning forward. "Who?"
"Optimus, you don't understand how lucky you are as an Optimus Prime of lower status," Vector explained, pressing Optimus back into the pod.
"Why? I'm confused," Optimus whispered.
"Optimus Primes are known to have many casualties, some don't come back online as quickly as others," Vector went on, messing with the controls.
"You're saying an Optimus in one of the other's worlds is going to die and that impacts the time problem?" Optimus muttered, still thinking it through as he spoke.
"Precisely," Vector nodded, pressing a button. The pod lid began to close.
"Who's?" Optimus gasped. "Quickly, please!"
"Why, who has the capable skills to construct something that would affect time and space?" Vector replied, watching the lid snap shut on the pod.
"Perceptor…" Optimus whispered, optics slowly closing.
He struggled for a moment to keep him online to ask if he was correct. The pod door had fogged, preventing vision of the outside. He couldn't put it up any longer. He fell into statis.
A/N
This is the end. Or is it?