Chapter 24
-0-Diego, that same morning
Prime had stood in his office, the burdens he'd carried alone for millions and millions of years seemingly lessened now. It was astounding that in the space of a few joors he could feel reborn. He couldn't remember when it had all changed, the view of Prowl that had been in his processor and his perception of the moods and mannerisms of that singular mech. He couldn't remember when he had changed. Prime just knew that he had. It was a change, too, not an infatuation, a flirtation or something transient.
Prowl had always been important to him but unknowable. The mech was private and reserved, exceedingly capable, always ahead of the curve with the seeming ability to almost read his processor to get, collate, combine, structure and think about what was needed and necessary.
Prime knew that he had a Machiavellian grimness about winning the war and their few EPIC battles over process and outcomes had cemented themselves into his psyche forever. Prowl was no light weight nor was he easy. He was tough, smart and one might even say once in a while, scheming. Yet, he was without a doubt single minded in his pursuit of the end of the war with as few casualties on their side as his ability to plan and devise could allow. All in all, that side of Prowl was a challenge and one of many points of his character that Prime enjoyed.
When whatever it was had to materialize in his servo, on his desk or among the mechs, whatever it was, did. It was almost preternatural, Prowl's ability to be all that he needed at whatever moment it was and all that they all had to have in a moment's notice. He never in all the vorns that he'd been Prime had another second-in-command.
Prowl was always there.
And yet for some reason Prime had only just now come to see him in three dimensions, giving in ever so much to the idea that this didn't have to be a singular journey, that it might be okay for him to have someone himself and all the resultant possibilities that would flow from that choice.
This mech with the calm steady presence, the doer and the thinker had become intensely important, the one Prime wanted to do things for, to take care of the way Prowl took care of just about everything and everyone else. If he didn't have Prowl in his operation and now his life it would bring chaos. It would also bring crippling loneliness and despair.
For Prime, seeing him this way everyday now was everything. They had developed a short hand and had for a long time worked together in a mostly synced manner. Even though Prowl was famed for his rages and desk/table flipping when things didn't follow every step, his usually calm encouragement, his steadfast belief and ability to do the harder things without (much) malice had become the best game in town for Optimus Prime.
For some reason, it had all come to him in a crystal clear moment. Perhaps his stint in the Matrix had cleared away the confusion about what he would allow for himself and what he wanted now actually asserted itself. He was Prime, a mech in a long line of mechs who were entrusted with the greatest gift and the greatest burden Cybertron could bestow, the care and protection of their people and their way of life.
When the news that the twins had an altercation with soldiers who were speaking ill of them, criticizing their relationships and their way of life and culture, it had been a blow. That had given him pause for a moment, the consideration that what they took as their specie's norm was found to be derisive within the hosts who had given them space to stay here, the humans.
They weren't humans even though they had some similar ways, styles and habits. They were metallic lifeforms, Cybertronians and Autobots. They did what they did because that was who they were in the elaborate and ancient modes of their culture, not because they had other options. They lived in homes, raised families, went to school, sent their offspring there and enjoyed lives with goals and enjoyments that were very similar. They had culture, art, history, music, commercial aspirations, sports and religions, too.
It was who and what they were.
But it had also reinforced something that had been percolating in his mind since arrival in this solar system. Ironhide had disclosed to him that Ratchet was after a sparkling. He had grinned and laughed, encouraging them even as he knew Ironhide would never become a carrier. Even as he did he knew their people needed the hope, the belief that things would become normal again. A sparkling would do that.
Birth would mean rebirth could happen once more.
Within his chest nestled close to the spark that defined him was the Creation Matrix, the Autobot Matrix of Leadership. It contained access to the previous Primes, to the entire experiential information database of every Cybertronian who had ever lived. It could create life and restore it. It was his honor and burden to bear.
It was a glistening beacon into the night of their current sad condition, twinkling brightly for a lot of his lost forlorn people who were waiting for him, their Prime to save them from despair. He felt the burden acutely and now with his change of perspective he wasn't alone in bearing it. He would do something about things in his own way under his own direction. He was going to save his people.
Prowl was on his side as ever but he was also by his side personally. He considered his biggest project when he entered the Ops Center, deciding to let Prowl help him. The chance his people needed and the one he had to fight to get them was coming together in his processor. He needed to confide with those who would help make it happen. Not just for them, he considered, but for the babies and infants who would come and those that were here, those that had no concept of a permanent safe home world.
But that would come after the threat subsided a little. For now, it was the task at hand that mattered. So he soldiered on, the hope for their future on hold to ensure that the here and now would be something they could all bear.
-0-California
Bumblebee honked outside the dorm where the Allspark slept. It was late and he'd texted Sam on the cell that had his personal number. He could, of course, hack into any system and make all the calls he wanted and he did.
The slagging delinquent.
Of course, Prime couldn't learn that or he'd get The Lecture about being Personally Responsible. He was a youngling mech who missed his friends in Diego sometimes, so 'occasionally' he 'experimented' with his 'skills', keeping them honed to the greatest degree possible while he protected the Allspark.
He hacked his phone and text calls for free.
A figure shambled quickly down the walkway, Sam in his jammies and slippers. He had throw a jacket over them and his face reflected his sleepy state. "Bee," he said. He entered the car as the door opened. He sat as the door closed gently. "What's up? I got your text."
"I'm heading for Denver," Bee said. "Prime needs recon. While I'm gone, Smokescreen will be coming. He's being dropped off tomorrow on a military plane that's coming into Vandenburg Air Base and will be here with only a small window without you protected. I just want you to keep low and wait until you see him."
"He'll let me know he's here?" Sam asked yawning deeply.
"He will," Bee replied. "You'll like him. He's a gambler."
"No kidding?" Sam asked intrigued as ever by the former lives of the mostly civilian Autobots. "You have gamblers?"
"We all are, Sam," Bee replied with a chuckle. "Go inside and keep a low profile. Smokescreen will text you and Teletraan has you on the radar. We will protect you, Sam."
"Be careful, Bee," Sam said as he leaned forward to get out of the Camaro. "You driving there and then what? Is anyone going to help you or are you on your own?" His tone was worried and it warmed Bee.
"Ironhide, Hound and Springer are going to be there and Prime will direct it from the air," Bee replied as his door swung open.
"Springer, huh," Sam said with a grin. "Are you sure Optimus wants the little woman to be in battles?"
Bee laughed as the car vibrated slightly with his mirth. "I wouldn't say that to Springer if I were you, Sam. Ask Smokescreen about the Wreckers."
"I will," Sam said patting the dashboard fondly. "Take care and come back without bullet holes, okay?"
"I will," Bee said watching with amusement as Sam walked to the dorm to enter the building. Then he closed his door and began to roll away, heading toward the interstate and Denver many miles away. As he did, a car rolled slowly behind him. Barricade with his signature heavily dampened and his alt vehicle form changed drove slowly past the dorm and followed Bumblebee as he rolled east, unseen and unnoticed by the Autobot.
-0-At Diego Garcia
The hubbub of shipping out on assignment filled the base with activity. Soldiers pulled their gear together as Epps led three of them with him toward Silverbolt. The striker team would be going with Hound, Springer and Ironhide to seek out a possible violation of the Tyrest Accord. The Code of Interplanetary Conflict binding both Autobots and Decepticons forbid the transmission of Transformer technology to others. The situation at hand was potentially the second attempt by the Decepticons to facilitate this violation.
It had been enforced by officers like Ultra Magnus in the past but now it was up to N.E.S.T. among all their other duties to help them prevent the catastrophic possibility of humans obtaining weapons far beyond their capacity to handle. That most of the weapons sought couldn't be manufactured here due to lack of appropriate materials and skills didn't stop the effort. One didn't know what one might discover taking a weapon apart. They were willing to get what they could for advantage even if they wouldn't be able to actually replicate the item.
Information was power.
Ironhide gathered his gear together, deciding the munitions he would arm with and carry in subspace. The armory was a third level subsurface warehouse at their complex surrounded by the hardest metal they could bring, cybertanium. The blast doors were two feet thick and the lock was a rotating combination.
He stood in front of the rack with munitions for his canons, tapping them for the characteristic tanging sound that proofed them for him. Standing behind him, watching with a guarded expression was Ratchet who was not going along. At least not in the first wave.
No one expected to make contact and if they did a second wave of reinforcements were going to be waiting on deck in Diego to fly to the battle courtesy of Cosmos. The human civilians didn't want a 'chaotic confrontation by aliens' in their city though Prime thought it a poor idea not to go in force. He relented in the name of comradeship even as he sorted out a back up team to come if needed.
Ratchet who was used to dealing with nervous civilians from his years as Optimus Prime's appointed diplomat felt exasperation nonetheless. It meant that there could be a lag time and lag times meant deaths were more, not less likely to happen.
Ironhide finished then nodded to Ratchet who followed him out and upward, moving past stockpiles of supplies gathered by Cosmos on many trips to far flung places. They were pulling things together for an as yet undisclosed venture that Prime was planning. They reached the barracks level and continued onward to the staging area out front.
Springer and Hound were already there and Smokescreen had left earlier, hurrying onward to fill in the gap brought about by Bumblebee's deployment to the area where the Decepticons were reported to be venturing.
Prowl and Prime were nearby, huddled over a datapad and the human soldiers were gathering a short space away, standing or sitting on packs, their parachutes on the ground next to their weapons. They would be dropping into the Coors Field Stadium in Denver, itself dark and empty of prying eyes. The area they needed to search was in the general vicinity, an old warehouse district filled with dive bars and a slowly gentrifying eclectic selection of shops and housing.
Ironhide and Ratchet stood together as others, those who weren't going came to wish them a safe journey, Primus blessed and swift. Finally, Optimus hugged Prowl, kissing him, then looked back at his crew with a nod. They began to gather gear, walking toward Silverbolt who waited patiently on the tarmac for them.
Ratchet watched then gazed intently at Ironhide. "Come back, Ironhide," he said quietly.
"I will," Ironhide said. "I'll probably see you there."
"Prime is sending us behind you anyway," Ratchet said. "Expect it."
They stared a moment then embraced to hold each other tightly. The soldiers gathering their gear averted their eyes with sympathy mixed with surprise at both Ironhide and Ratchet as well as Prime and Prowl. Then they let go, kissing softly.
Ratchet nodded, folding his arms over his chassis, watching as Ironhide walked toward the jet. He climbed into the hold and sat by the door helping the others inside until all were aboard. Then the door closed, at last obscuring him from Ratchet's clear view.
Prowl watching nearby walked over and stood with him as Thunderbolt rose and flew away into the late afternoon sun, fading at last from view.