Optimus had been fairly busy since we'd last met. He'd cobbled together a makeshift shelter from some metal plates he'd scavenged off a few abandoned ships, and I could see the silhouettes of his crew in there, laying dormant. I supposed it was a good idea; it wouldn't do any good if someone accidentally came across a few comatose alien robots.

I swear, I still got a bit of cognitive dissonance just by thinking about that.

We rolled to a stop, and Optimus opened the door, allowing me to step out. Once I was a few feet away, he began to transform, parts shifting around as he stood up. I still found myself staring at the sight, in awe of the process.

"Thank you for coming here, Taylor," he said. "I know that it must be difficult for you to process all of what I have told you thus far, but you have managed well."

I fidgeted a little. "T-thanks. So... why am I here? You said that I could help you, but how?"

"Follow me," Optimus said.

He turned and walked towards the shelter, leaving massive footprints in the sand. I jogged after him, taking care not to fall into the depressions he made. Once he was at the entrance to the shelter, he gestured for me to step inside first, and I did after a moment's hesitation. It felt like I was walking into a tomb, especially considering how mangled the crew looked.

I watched as Optimus stooped inside the shelter and knelt by the smallest of his crewmembers, one that had silver armor. Extending a hand, he hovered it over the machine's chest, and I watched a spark fly from his fingertip.

For a moment, the alien shuddered, and I could've sworn I saw its eyes flicker. But as quickly as it came, it went back to being comatose.

"The driving force of my civilization- and its struggles," Optimus said. "By the standards of your people, we operate on tremendous amounts of energy; without it, we enter this state of stasis. My crew was badly damaged in the battle aboard the Ark and the subsequent crash onto your world, and if they were to exit stasis, they would perish. In order to resuscitate them, I require energy."

"And this is where I come in?" I asked, brow furrowed. "I don't see how I could help you resuscitate your crew. I can control bugs, and get some sensory input from them, but that's not going to help much here."

"That may be," said Optimus, "but there is more to you than just your powers. You, as a native of this world, are far more familiar with its workings, its nuances. If I were to attempt to collect the energy now, without any information, I would undoubtedly get the attention of your governments."

I blinked. "So... you basically want me to be your guide."

"Yes. And in the case that I must steal energy, someone who could ensure that I succeed without detection."

He wanted me to be an accomplice to theft? I was trying -keyword there- to be a hero, and stealing didn't exactly fit the bill. Especially considering what he meant by 'tremendous' amounts of energy... what kind of trouble could that wreak on the city?

"Optimus, I don't want to be a crook," I finally replied.

"Though I understand there are some legal issues with our acts, I do not believe there are moral ones. I will not harm your kind for energy, nor will I put them at risk."

"It's still making me a bit uneasy. Can't you, I don't know, just use solar panels, like what you have on your shoulders?"

"I have already placed an order for three hundred panels from various sellers."

My brow furrowed. "You're a thirty-foot-tall robot. How did you order solar panels?"

"Ebay."

"Oh," I said simply. "Well, I guess that makes sense. Did you just artificially give yourself a bank account?"

"Several."

I nodded to myself. "Okay, that's good. What else can we do to get power? Could you use your ship's batteries or something?"

"The Ark derived power from Cybertron itself, via the Space Bridge," Optimus replied, as if that made any sense to me. "The mechanisms required for that were damaged in the crash, and the internal power storage has been depleted; I cannot even activate Teletraan I, the Ark's central computer."

"Then maybe we could pull the ship out of the ground a little, let it get some sunlight so it can start fixing itself." I felt silly saying it, but I didn't know exactly how to respond in this situation. "That's how you're moving around, right?"

"Yes," Optimus admitted. "However, the Ark is far to large to move in such a manner."

"How big is it?" I asked.

In response, Optimus produced a hologram. It took me a moment, but I realized it was a rough bird's-eye map of Brockton Bay, along with the surrounding area. I could see a red dot on the beach, right where we were. Was that the Ark?

Then, the dot turned into an outline, and my eyes widened as it continued to stretch out in a rough oval shape. I'd imagined his spaceship had to be big, just to fit individuals of that size, but...

"Are you telling me," I said slowly, measuring each word, "that your ship is bigger than Brockton Bay? And that it's been directly underneath the city all this time?"

Optimus nodded. "There lies the other problem. I do not see a way of extricating the Ark without demolishing Brockton Bay in the process. Perhaps one of your planet's parahumans could assist us in that endeavor, but I do not wish to reveal the existence of my people to yours."

I scratched the back of my head, thinking, then stopped.

"Then why did you reveal yourself to me?"

Optimus was silent for a few moments. Then he knelt down, so he could better look me in the eye.

"Because freedom is the right of all sentient beings, Taylor. Freedom from tyranny, oppression, pain, and murder. Freedom to live, love, think, and create. Lung would have taken that right from you, and I would have been complicit in his crime if I had done nothing."

That hit me harder than it should've. The idea that this alien, this being older than humanity, would risk revealing himself to the world and jeopardizing his plans just to save a nobody like me? Any doubts that his faction were the bad guys went out the window, and that got me thinking.

"I'm not the only one he would have done that to," I said. "Or even the first he's killed. You've probably read about his gang, and the other gangs. They all kill people, and ruin innocent lives. I've known a few kids in my school that have become druggies because of the Merchants, or join the E88 and start picking on kids of other races. I once even saw a knife-fight in the hallways between two kids that were in different gangs."

I sighed. "That's why I want to be a hero, I guess. I want to at least do something about all the ugliness, even if I could only do a little."

"I did not know that the violence permeated everyday life in such a manner, where even the children fight," Optimus said, as if in thought. "I am fortunate to have found you, Taylor; you offer more than mere objective collections of fact, but a lens into your world."

He stood back up, staring at the skyline in the distance. "Our worlds are more similar than I may care to admit. The war between us and the Decepticons consumed our planet, turning all to the sword, whether they wanted to or not. I see it here, with the formation of factions that fight each other for petty gain, uncaring of the lives they destroy, or the freedoms they crush. I will not stand by and let the same turmoil that ruined Cybertron envelop your world."

I scratched my chin, thinking, then paused.

"I think there's a way you can get energy and help the city out," I said. "Killing two birds with one stone."

He looked back to me. "What do birds and stones have to do with this?"

"Wait, wha-" I shook my head. "Never mind, it's a turn of phrase. Basically, I remember reading somewhere that a lot of tinkers use hi-tech power sources for their labs, especially the ones that make weapons or vehicles. I'm not sure if it would be a lot, but it might be something."

"It would certainly be worth an attempt."

"Alright then. The Merchants have this tinker named Squealer; I read that she specializes in making big vehicles, like tanks and aircraft. The Merchants are the smallest gang in the bay, too, so it's not like we'd deal with a lot of resistance. Low risk, high reward, as people say."

"Apprehending a gang, and seizing their illicit power sources? Yes, that is a viable strategy," Optimus said. "Very well, we will make our strike two days from now, at night."

I blinked. "You want to do on Monday?"

Optimus tilted his head. "Is there an issue with that time? I understand that it is a school night, but the raid will not occupy much of your time-"

"It's not that," I replied. "It's just that my mom might notice me going off with a giant alien robot to take down a supervillain gang."

"If there is an issue, then I can possibly postpone to the next weekend."

I shook my head. "No, I think I can get around it. The sooner we do this, the better, right?"

Optimus nodded. "Indeed."

"Alright then," I said, pulling a notebook out of my backpack. "For a heist, we're gonna need a game plan..."


I


The planet's sun was low on the horizon when they finalized a rough plan.

Force was not an issue. Even in his weakened, malnourished state, he was more than a match for any small-scale human weapons. There were a number of parahumans in the city that would pose a challenge for him, or even a threat, but none were in the Merchants. He'd researched them on the web, taking note of their abilities and judging how they could pose a threat.

The chief issue was not a matter of firepower, but discretion; it would not be beneficial if the human populace at large learnt of his existence. Even if he was initially mistaken for a tinker creation, the ensuing investigation from the authorities could possibly result in exposure.

Taylor, Optimus found, was full of insights when it came to solutions to that matter. Her power was multifaceted, with a wide variety of possible uses, and she had several ideas as to how she could use it to prevent exposure. By the time they had finished, her primitive data-storing sheets were completely filled in with notes, diagrams, and maps.

Once they were finished, they began other preparations. He first fashioned a makeshift trailer from the scrap lying nearby, then drove into the city, Taylor riding along. The solar panels were at the various locations he'd specified online for the drop-off, and Taylor loaded them into the trailer.

Once that was completed, he took it upon himself to drive her home. As before, she had him stop a few blocks from her domicile, away from prying eyes. For some reason, she especially did not want to be seen exiting an eighteen-wheeler, when compared to the firetruck he'd been disguised as before.

He made a note to research that stigma, then drove back to the Boat Graveyard.

Night had fallen since he'd left, and he used the cover of darkness to lay out the solar panels. He connected the power cords to himself, and to his crew. When the sun rose, it would power the nanites and rejuvenate them, if only by a small degree.

There was little else to do, at least until they performed the raid. Hopefully, the power sources used by the Merchants would be enough to revive at least one of his crew, but until then, he could only wait.

He found himself staring up into the sky. The stars had shifted drastically over the millions of years, and he studied their positions, trying to track the stellar drift.

Cybertron was up there, he knew, but where? Was the war still raging, that same infernal stalemate that had left countless scars on the outer shell, or had the tide turned for one of the factions? Had the Decepticons taken control, dooming the world to tyranny?

Was it still even there?

He still found himself grappling with that question when morning came, and the first rays of sunlight shone upon the panels.