So... in the middle of writing this, I had another embarrassing realisation. In one of the recent chapters I mentioned Starscream escaping the cave with the Insecticon by flying. However, I completely forgot that he'd actually lost his T-Cog to MECH (it's been a while since I've had a chance to rewatch TFP...). In light of that mistake, I've figured that Starscream probably just clawed his way out.
Another note: though I don't personally address reviews nowadays (unless they have questions about the plot and other queries in them), I appreciate and read every single one I get. You are all amazing, and thank you for staying with me for so long (and Primus knows how much longer it's gonna be). I also need to extend a thank you to JetfireWeasleyThe5th for helping me figure out some ideas for this chapter, namely the flashback and the end (and I recommend anyone to take a look at her own fics, as she is an incredibly talented writer).
And a final note, recently I uploaded a fic titled 'Dance with the Devil', which ties in to Promise- this chapter especially. It deals with Elita One's backstory working as an Art caste femme and her connection to the Council, and it also explains why Soundwave let Airachnid escape the Nemesis. It's not mandatory to read it, but anyone who's more curious about all that should definitely check it out .
xx
Ratchet greeted Rafael with a nod of his helm, but the human seemed to hesitate before returning the gesture. He paused as Optimus emerged behind him, both mechs sensing something was awry.
"I didn't know you went on patrols with Optimus, Ratchet," he commented in an innocent tone, though medic detected suspicion layered underneath.
"Optimus detected an unusual energon reading and required my help in identifying the source." It wasn't entirely a lie- dark energon in a sparkling certainly counted under 'unusual'.
"So... what was it?"
Ratchet allowed himself a moment to think. "Nothing. Just a... device malfunction."
Optimus saw Rafael's scepticism in his frown, but he quickly hid it by lowering his head behind his laptop screen. The human was smarter than his age suggested. They'd have to keep a close optic on him.
Before he could find any quiet refuge from the day's events though, Bulkhead marched up to him.
"Optimus, Wheeljack was here and you didn't tell me?" Optimus was confused at how the Wrecker knew that, but then he caught Miko's guilty look as she sank into the couch.
Now it was his turn to think fast. "He had stopped by to share some energon stockpiles he had acquired. You were recharging, and I assumed you would not wish to be disturbed."
Bulkhead only huffed in disappointment. "Yeah, I guess... would'a been too cranky to talk to him anyway..." He skulked off back to Miko with his peds dragging, but Optimus knew a few moments with his human would set him right again.
"Apparently there's more than one sparkling on Earth..." Ratchet muttered before marching to the medbay, eager to escape from the rest of the day. Optimus decided to follow his old friend's example for once, and retired to the dimness of his own quarters. No-one stopped to question him on his decision to recharge so early- the Autobots knew it was best to let their leader see to himself.
In the sanctum of his quarters, Optimus let himself collapse. His berth was soft as ever, but his mind was lumpy and filled with unease. He didn't like keeping secrets. It was far too easy to lie to his team; it made him feel like a Decepticon. He had been one, just months ago when he defeated Unicron with the mech he loathed to call a former friend.
He had been aboard the Nemesis... he had seen Airachnid. His guest quarters had been assigned near his workstation, and occasionally he saw the femme making her own way to Megatron, or the energon store, or wherever else she was headed. Optimus tried to remember... did he sense anything odd about her? Anything significant in her EM field, a fluctuation in her spark signature? She must have been carrying her twins by then, and her pregnancy should have been obvious- femmes always had static in their fields and abnormal spark pulses, especially with two newsparks.
Then again, Airachnid was no ordinary femme. Whether she was more mechanical or organic, somehow no-one registered that she was carrying. Even standing right beside her there was nothing to give it away. Optimus had to admire her stealth even back then.
She cared immensely for Scorpia; that much was obvious. And of course, he cared for her too. She was wholly innocent, the only Cybertronian completely untouched by the war. In a way, she was precious to him. He and Elita never had the chance to conceive their own children before... her death.
At this point, Scorpia was as close as he would get to having his own sparkling.
He wondered if Elita would have been fond of her as well.
xx
"What if they don't listen to us?"
"They will, Orion. They could have easily just rejected your audience request if they didn't want to listen-"
"That would just seem suspicious of them though. It would have given our cause valid ground, they know that." Orion wrung his hands together in discomfort, the light of his optics flickering weakly. "For all we know we could be walking right into the servos of Institute guards, or some other trap-"
"Orion, listen to me." Elita grabbed his wrists to still them, looking deep into his optics with her own burning brightly. "You're worrying about nothing. They will listen to you. They won't take you away without me knowing. I promise." Her smile was all he needed to calm his spark.
"And if you did, I'm sure Prowl would blow a synapse grid trying to track you down." All his unease melted into his laughter as it joined with hers. It was the only sound in the grand hall aside from the clack of peds and Megatron tapping his own impatiently while waiting for the doors to the Council chamber to open. His scarred steel armour was completely out of place among the gold and silver of Iacon's architecture, and he was well aware of it from the tension in his joints and how he avoided the optics of other bots who stared at him. He just wanted to get the whole thing over with.
"I wish I shared your confidence, Elita," Orion said, stroking the backs of her hands fondly with his wide digits. "But I feel like this will all be one huge mistake."
Suddenly Elita's frame tensed, and her optics glanced away. "Listen, Orion... I know someone in there."
Orion raised an eyeridge. "You know a Senator?" He worked almost alongside them every day and he'd hardly said more than two words to one, yet Elita barely visited Iacon outside of their regular rendezvous'.
"Yes, I... asked him to convince the others to give you and Megatron an audience." She removed her hands and moved one to clutch her elbow, still averting her gaze from his.
Orion looked at her curiously. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because..." She took in a heavy vent. "The Senator I asked was Ratbat."
"The techno-organic?!" Orion's processor was whirring with the effort of understanding her.
"I knew you'd ask how I knew him... that's why I never told you." Elita's voice was quiet, more so than Orion had ever heard before. He was confused at her sudden nervousness, as well as her reluctance to share.
"When you said you knew a lot of techno-organics... you meant him as well?" She nodded, only looking up when he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I won't ask you for anything you don't want to reveal, Elita. I only wish you said so I could have thanked you for it." His smile was infectious enough to latch onto her faceplate, and her hand was warm as she placed it over his.
"When you're in there... I think you could gain his favour if you make a plea for his kind as well as for low castes."
"You think so?"
She nodded. "He may not show a lot of care for other TO's, but he'll appreciate the effort. They don't want suites in Translucentia Heights or passes into Iacon. They only want fairness- just like the low castes."
"I'll do my best."
Her servos wrapped around his neck as she embraced him, their sparks jumping as their chestplates touched. "Thank you. Good luck, Orion." She placed a kiss upon his lips, and they would have stayed joined in each other's servos if not for the sudden outburst at Megatron's end of the hall.
"Watch where you put those things, buckethead!
"You are the one who needs to watch where her wings go!"
"You'd better go before Megatron starts his own gladiator battle," Elita whispered and it almost hurt Orion to pull away from her. Drone guards with security emblems on their chassis' were at the two squabbling bots before Orion ran to them. Three were struggling to restrain Megatron while two held a purple and teal Seeker by her wings and blaster-brandishing servos.
"Designation Slipstream, lower your weapon-"
"Stick a muffler in it, nospark!" Her elbow found the speaking drone's faceplate and smashed through the visor, but her other servo was already disabled with a stasis cuff. Megatron had allowed himself to go limp, knowing if he struggled then he'd be thrown out of the building. Slipstream was not so wise, still fighting against drone grip with her hands cuffed together and vocaliser straining with curses.
"What on Cybertron was that about?" Orion asked as Megatron was released. The gladiator huffed and rolled his shoulder joints.
"One of her wings banged against by chassis, and she assumed I tripped her up." His usual frown curled into a scowl. "I've never liked Seekers."
"Well, don't let the Vosian representatives hear that," Orion said with a chuckle. Megatron didn't return it as the chamber doors finally split open, and he was marching inside before Orion had finished his final wave to Elita.
xx
Silas liked to think he was a patient man, given how long he had to wait for the Autobots and Decepticons to reveal themselves, and even longer still to acquire a single part of their anatomy.
The transformation cog gleamed within the titanium chassis of his puppet-former; so generously donated by Starscream, though potential revenge from the pitiful jet was the last thing on Silas' mind. He was patient, and he was careful. If Starscream came within five miles of the MECH base he would be blown into the sky by the turret defences. He smiled to himself at the thought of that being the only way the jet would ever fly again.
"Sir. There's a Cybertronian signature registering on the detectors." Silas turned away from his thoughts and towards the console of the speaking henchman. It showed a blip surrounded by radar pulses, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
"...and this signature has been identified before?" Silas was sure to keep records of all the EM readings his robotic encounters gave off. It only allowed him to find Cybertronians he'd been in personal contact with, but he was confident that an average reading could be established and used to find all robotic life in an area.
"Yes, sir. We believe it's the same one of the Decepticon Airachnid." The masked worker pulled up a profile on the display, showing her image and what little MECH knew about her.
Silas smile grew into something darker. "Yes, I remember her... she was never a Decepticon. But she will make a fine lab experiment."