Chapters, glorious chapters. Note about this one, while I'm still working on where this would fit into the official Prime canon timeline, I'm thinking on setting this chapter just before Loose Cannons.
xx
To say Optimus awoke would have been too kind a word. Rather, he was torn away from the fabric of his relapse, the frayed threads that still lingered around him stinging painfully. He cycled air heavily, optics wide and systems on the verge of meltdown. His berth surface and his shivering frame was damp with coolant shed in his stasis. So much for drying himself a groan he heaved himself upright and sat on the edge of his berth, servos on his knees and helm low. Even with the centuries that passed Elita One remained as crisp and beautiful in his memory as when he last saw her... when anyone last saw her.
His digits scored into the metal of his knees, distracting him from the murky depths of his mind. He wasn't ready to remember that yet... at this rate he never would be. Perhaps that was for the best.
As Optimus emerged from the stifling heat of his quarters and walked into the welcoming neutral air of the base, he prepared himself for a swarm of morning greetings and, more plentiful, mundane problems from his teammates needing addressed 'immediately'. The sight of the foyer was a comforting familiarity though, with the children sat at the TV and their guardians nearby. Ratchet was nowhere in sight- most likely getting supplies from deeper within the base or trying to escape the usual noise in the base centre that the humans generated. If he didn't spurn the species themselves, then he held more than enough contempt for their traits. Arcee, Bumblebee and Bulkhead all raised their helms towards Optimus at the sound of his arrival, all mostly content- except for the femme.
"We missed you last night," she commented. Not a question, nor an accusation. Yet it still gave Optimus a sense of unease. "Ratchet said you were out on patrol." He nodded, trying to remain calm under the intense sweep of her stare. If he wasn't careful, she could easily pierce the shield that hid his discomfort.
"There was suspicious activity in the area," he expanded, marching himself past her even as her optics burned into his back. "I had to scout more thoroughly to ensure there were no threats." Arcee made a sound in reply, and seemed to let the matter drop. For now.
"Hey Optimus, where was the area that you were searching?" Rafael asked as Optimus passed the couch that the children were seated on, laptop opened and on his knees.
"I believe you know it as the northern Jasper woods," Optimus replied, wondering what the purpose of such a question was as the human child typed something in and brought up a webpage.
"I was just wondering because- where is it- here!" With a click Raf projected his laptop display onto the larger base computer. If Ratchet was present then he'd be having a processor meltdown at the thought of having potentially lost 'hours of vital medical work'.
"I was browsing the conspiracy websites for any new 'Bot sightings, and I saw this posted on a local blog," Raf explained as a short blog post was displayed on the screen, accompanied with a dark, blurred picture of the forest. There was a sliver of glowing blue between the fuzzy fern shadows. "It says that there was something moving in the woods last night, and that it left behind a glowing blue liquid." Bumblebee's, Bulkhead's and Arcee's optics widened at the news.
"That looks like energon to me," the Wrecker said grimly, and Bumblebee beeped something worriedly. "Think it could be that 'suspicious activity' you were talking about, Optimus?" Three pairs of wide blue optics swivelled towards the Prime, waiting for a confirmation.
Optimus took time to study the display before having to answer. The image was barely recognisable as a forest, only the fern leaves and ragged shadows of undergrowth giving it away. But what at first looked like a stunted tree with two 'branches' sprouting from the top brought back the images of mere hours ago. She was injured, clumsy, her first priority getting out of the rain. Stealth came later. Something- or someone- was bound to hear the crashing of desperately fallen foliage. All it took was one witness to bring even the greatest lie down to its knees.
But there were times when it could push itself back up.
"It could very well be, Bulkhead. Though I did not come across such on my patrol..." Optimus answered carefully, feigning his ignorance with a shameful expertise.
"Last night's rain will have washed it away by now," Arcee pointed out.
"Nevertheless, I shall investigate further," Optimus said with veiled relief.
"Investigate what now?" a grumpy voice asked from behind; Ratchet returning with an armful of glass medical vials. Bulkhead pointed to the projected display, thankfully after Ratchet had unloaded his servos so that he didn't end up littering the floor with broken glass shards from his shock.
"Energon!" he cried out, advancing towards the image with an accusing digit pointed out. He was about to say something else, but a frantic glance at Optimus immediately stopped him. They had both noticed the familiarity in the shadowy background shape, and Ratchet was just words away from dooming Airachnid, and her child. Optimus' optics held a silent plea, one that he couldn't explain but that he prayed his old friend would understand and accept. Asthe other Autobots voiced their own opinions in ambience, Ratchet groaned and shuttered his own optics, coming to stand closer to Optimus.
"That form in the trees?" he whispered, keeping his mouth movements to a minimum.
"They think it's just branches," Optimus replied.
"And what is it, really?" Ratchet asked with a sudden, snappy distrust. Optimus was silent for a few klicks before he answered.
"That I cannot reveal." His optics lowered at Ratchet's deep sigh. "At this moment in time, at least."
"You're keeping secrets from the team-"
"For a good cause, Ratchet," Optimus interrupted, desperation creeping into his tone. "All I ask for now is that you trust me on this, and I promise that all will be revealed." The old medic scoffed, but his hard blue glare softened.
'Promises... what signifigance did they have anymore?' But in all the years that he knew Optimus, he'd never given him real reason to doubt his actions. Regardless of how much or little he knew of them, or the motives behind them. If he could will himself to break through his wall of cyncism just one last time...
"You guys done gossiping?" Miko called up to the elder mechs, drawing a scowl from Ratchet. He glanced again at Optimus, something reluctant flitting in his optics, and slowly nodded rejoined with the rest of the Autobots gathered around the display. Optimus let out a heavy cycle of air, wondering just how deep the pit he'd dug himself into was now.
xx
When Airachnid awoke from recharge, something echoed wildly throughout her cave. She didn't realise it was her own scream until the reverb had long since subsided. Cycling air rapidly she glanced around warily, noting the fingers of morning sunlight rays spreading into the cave opening and the heavy after-storm mist in the air. A hand subconsciously went to her sparkling tucked into her back, stroking the tattered webbing as she tried to stand up. Slight wobbling on the peds, but she didn't collapse when she walked forward. A noticeable improvement from yesterday.
A quick scan confirmed that her minor wounds had healed over night, and the other larger lacerations would only require a few days. Rust infection shouldn't be a problem as long as she stayed dry. But though she was healing on the outside, inside she was still in a limbo of turmoil. Her spark still ached from the agony of feeling her son's brief life extinguished, and her processor pounded incessantly. She had dreamed, but her memory refused to recall the images and whispering sounds. It hurt too much. Though she could see bright spots of glowing blue in the corners of her vision...
One servo cradled her sparkling and the other shielded her optics from the glare of the sun as she emerged at the very edge of the cave entrance. No Cybertronian life signals in range, with forest surrounding the area and fallen, rotting logs nearby marking the age of this wide ravine. The Decepticons would be hard pressed to find her- if they were even trying to. Megatron didn't know that one of his children still survived- Airachnid was careful to conceal the femme from his optics during her escape from the Nemesis- and he would be certain that Airachnid's wounds would have eventually finished her off for him. She didn't even know where the Ground Bridge spat her out- it wasn't as if she could see where the co-ordinates were set...
Lasers scoured and scorched the walls inches away from her back as she pelted through the Nemesis corridors, unable to suppress her whimpers of pain and unbridled terror. She held a precious load close to her aching spark- ebbing waves of agony from her core that caused her to trip over her heels in her frenzied escape. The Vehicon troops were always just a few klicks behind her... matching her pace but thankfully not her speed. In any other cursed circumstance she would only be slipping up in their own spilled energon on the floor, but no matter how much she desperately tried to force any vestige of power into her servo blasters she was awarded only with an empty, futile click and another searing sparking of her wires.
Why was she running? What was it about the worthless slab of newborn protoform cradled to her chest that made her tear apart everything she had tried to keep glued together for the past endless vorns? The basic message playing on a loop in her processor- Keep her safe- was almost insulting to her, but she wasn't afforded any further time for hurried contemplation before a light fixture exploded right before her, energy within falling back on her coolant-beaded armour and making contact with stinging hisses. They were getting closer. If she tried to go any further down the corridor ahead they'd easily rail her bleeding back with plasma bolts. Her last two legs twitched again- they were doing it a lot since her other four were ripped off by Megatron's grip, one that shot out at her as soon as the crimson optics picked her out hiding in the gloom of the Nemesis' more deserted hallways. Or maybe what alerted him was the scream of pure agony that lanced through her, past her vocaliser and into the air saturated with the stench of molten metal and fusion discharge. One servo instantly clutched again over her spark as another pulse of pain passed through, and optics scanned all around for somewhere, anywhere, to give her a klick of sanctuary- or some sweet illusion of such. If she was going to die, she'd die with some semblance of peace.
That, at least, was something she could control. Unlike the Nemesis doorways, one of which suddenly slid open as her servo braced itself against a wall to support her trembling frame. She fell into the room beyond and hit the ground on her mutilated back, wincing and dazed from the impact. With foggy optics she frantically assessed the blurry shape before her, a button of some kind for the door. Whatever it did, she didn't have time to find out before a free servo pressed it. The sound of bolts engaging on the door was a sound of sweet relief to her, the echoes of the locks sliding into place overlapping her heaving gasps of air through her warped vents. Somehow she managed to pull herself to her shaking peds, recognising the wide expanse of room as one of the data analysis centres from the lights set low against the glow of the massive computer screen that dominated the far wall. She only just noticed that the console below it was occupied when the silhouette stood there turned towards her. At the sight of sheer glass reflecting back coolant-teared honeycomb optics, her knees threatened to buckle under her from the weight of the despaired wail building within.
Soundwave's approach was devoid of emotion, not even the barest signal of anger or accusation in his fluid movements coming to meet her. Airachnid's breaths hitched with sobs that what little that was left of her pride couldn't even quell. She wanted to meet his featureless face with something at least close to defiance in the face of slender death, but the silent child still in her arms was all that magnetised her optics- all that mattered was that she survived. Even if her creator didn't.
"Please..." Trying to bite back such a pathetic plea only left stinging holes in her glossa, and her energon tasted stale as it pooled in her mouth."Spare me, Soundwave..." Her optics dared to shutter and point upwards to him past the sad film of tears. She didn't know what good it would do to beg, let alone with Megatron's pet himself. She also didn't know, and would never know, what little sub-routines were passing through his mind as he processed her infeasible request. For some, inexplicable, terrifying reason though, that request was accepted.
She heard the whirl of the Ground Bridge portal next to her before her optics flicked towards it, a swirling gate to Primus-knows-where. For all she knew it would lead to Megatron's quarters, or some barren prison where she could be suitably left to rot. Knowing Soundwave on basis of only mythos and bare reputation, Airachnid could only guess those desolate possibilites. Wherever it stranded her though, at least she knew one thing. It would be better than the Nemesis.
Soundwave's motives for such an act of...empathy were something that she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to uncover, if the opportunity for such knowledge ever came along. She certainly didn't want to dwell on it, all that mattered was that Primus had decided to down a few high-grades and twist his little playground that he called the universe around- and fortune favoured her in the aftershocks of such supposed meddling. Soundwave's Ground Bridge was self-generated; good news in that there was no way for the Decepticons to lock onto the destination co-ordinates, bad news in that she was virtually stranded in the middle of nowhere.
Stranded... except for Prime.
And if he was nearby, the rest of his team was sure to be.
Arcee would probably shoot down her sparkling right in front of her out of revenge for Tailgate- how she could hold a grudge that long, Airachnid would never know. The others she knew little of, so she could hardly gauge their actions. But she'd bet both their sparks that not one of them would be nearly as understanding as Optimus.
Something clicked in her arm, and she looked down at her wriggling offspring. The webbing cocoon had worn away into stray strands that stuck to the sparkling's plating like a disease. With a talon Airachnid picked them off as the child stretched and chirped in her waking throes. Light gray protoform marked her skin, with optics squeezed closed. Armour wouldn't start forming until her next few weeks, and even then it would constantly reform and shed as she grew. With their faceplates close, Airachnid could see two faint streaks of black arching down her sparkling's optics, with a small violet mouth underneath.
'How can something so young be so beautiful...?' Was this how all mothers saw their children? Or were her techno-organic instincts masking over her vision? She wouldn't be surprised, they had done nothing but hinder her these past few months.
Karma really was a glitch.
Seating herself at the very edge of the cave, Airachnid allowed the rising sun rays to wash over her armour and heat her sluggish systems. She didn't want to risk leaving the area, else she get lost, or if Prime returned. And she was certain that he would. He was too damn holy to let her fend for herself. That would make taking advantage of him even harder.
She'd have to play her cards very carefully. Her main goal was to survive. Any revenge against Megatron came later. Much later. Optimus would be instrumental to achieving that goal, so she'd do well to keep him close. And if there arose any side ambitions along the way... well, she was an unfortunate opportunist. A not-so-nasty habit that Archa Seven gifted to her, along with everything else.
Something told Airachnid that she'd be revisiting that Primus forsaken planet more times than she'd ever care to in the coming days.
xx
"Optimus, are you sure-"
"I will be fine, Arcee. The rest of you are needed here to ensure the safety of the base, and the children," Optimus assured her, the spinning Ground Bridge portal behind him giving him a harsh glowing outline. Ratchet looked even more unhappy than usual at the bridge controls, but stayed silent as Arcee questioned Prime on what he was about to undertake. The rest of the Autobots knew only that he was going to scout the forest area again, in search of the 'Energon Culprit' that had the humans in an uproar. It took a hefty amount of persuasion to convince Agent Fowler that an aerial scout would not be necessary- the last thing Optimus needed was the notoriously twitchy human government becoming involved with what was already spinning out of his control. He knew though that convincing his teammates that he would be safe going alone would be significantly more difficult. With one last look at Bulkhead and Bumblebee assembled in the background, Optimus turned towards the vortex before Arcee could think of another worry to voice. When he winked out of sight, she sighed with servos crossed. Bumblebee chirped a question at her; "Anything wrong, 'Cee?"
"Nothing, Bee, just... I've got a bad feeling about this," she replied, optics shifting nervously. Ratchet glanced over at her, and sighed wearily. 'I hope you know what you're doing, Optimus...'
"PRIME!" a sudden very angry voice cut through the tense silence of the base, Agent Fowler's visage taking up the communications computer screen. "What in blazes are your people doing out here?!"
"You just missed him," Bulkhead said to him, optics heavy with annoyance. "What's the problem?"
"The problem is that we had an agreement; no collateral damage!" The Autobot's faceplates turned to confusion.
"I can't imagine Optimus going out to level a town in the space of two klicks," Ratchet deadpanned.
"Where is Prime anyway? Can he explain why there are two jumbo bots out ripping up the ground as we speak?!"
"Decepticons?" Ratchet asked, coming to join the rest of the team gathered before the screen.
"There has been plenty of infighting lately. Megatron can't seem to keep his ranks in line..." Arcee commented.
"Well I'm just arriving on the scene." The screen shifted with a burst of static to show a ship lodged in the dirt, spilling out smoke. "Have a look." Zooming in on a tiny point stepping out of the ship debris showed a bulky jet Decepticon wielding a hefty cannon in his servos, aiming it steadily in front of him. Bumblebee almost thought it was Skyquake at first glance, frantically clicking in disbelief. Bulkhead's outspoken speculation sated his thoughts though;
"I dunno... paint job aside, it can't be Skyquake. You and Optimus pounded him into the ground."
"You said there were two bots... so who's the dance partner?" Arcee asked as the camera panned to the side, showing another ship parked on the ground and zooming in on another familiar shape.
"By the Allspark..." Ratchet muttered at the white, blaster-ready mech shown on screen. "It is one of ours!" And not one to be happy about. Bulkhead was quite the opposite to Ratchet's annoyance at Wheeljack's return though, pounding his teammates on the back enthusiastically.
"Yeah, Jackie's back!" he laughed, grinning at the sight of his old friend. Ratchet rolled his optics, not wanting to think of what Optimus was going to have to deal with when he returned.