Wolf by the Ears Chapter 18: Awake
So... I'm really, really sorry, it's been forever since I updated. Not going to promise that my mojo is back, but crossing my fingers. Thanks to Darth Krande for the beta reading!
Optimus stared at the elegantly engraved sheet of metal. Who sent actual physical invitations in this sol and age? It was like something out of a period drama about the distant past.
It had been dropped off by an actual courier, too. The small, fast mech had had to wait out in the building's foyer, since he couldn't get past security. That was despite his badge with the council's sigil on it, showing that he was on official business for the planetary government. He had been a sweet little mech, though the way he only spoke in rhymes as a little odd.
The courier's inability to enter the building without an escort would have been a lot more reassuring to Optimus if he hadn't had a Decepticon break into his home the last dark period. That was... concerning. He knew from the fiasco with Shockwave that Autobot security wasn't as good as he had always assumed, but it really seemed like a member of the enemy faction shouldn't be able to waltz into his supposedly secure new home and have a spark to spark chat with his supposed slave. Even if they were going to skimp on Optimus's security, a bot would think they would care about Megatron having access to his army.
He shivered. From the sound of things, the entire Decepticon army would be gunning for him right now if it weren't for the strength of his bond with Megatron. All of a sudden, Ratchet's insistence on them strengthening their connection seemed less pushy and more practical.
Probably he should try to speak to Ultra Magnus directly. He just needed to get past Sentinel and all the other bureaucratic obstacles, and make sure Megatron wasn't present... That could actually prove fairly challenging.
At least it seemed like the Decepticons in general and Elita in particular weren't planning on assassinating him right now. That part was comforting. The self-evident fact that he would be a graying shell right now if that HAD been their plan, not so much. Elita, or rather Blackarachnia could have hit him with something much more lethal than a shot of the venom she already knew he could recover from.
That information about slave bonds, and about Starscream was pretty disturbing. Ratchet had warned him that the slave bonds were dangerous, but knowing that a mech could have a total personality change and turn from a loyal lieutenant to a backstabbing glitch like that gave him the cold horrors. He was glad to know about it, since information was always valuable, but brrrr.
He was still trying to wrap his processor around the concept of a loyal and competent version of the seeker. It was fairly difficult. He did not want to know what kind of personality deterioration Megatron might experience if his master was offlined. He was scary enough now.
Optimus had decided to pretend ignorance of the episode, since he also didn't want the Decepticons to know he had been awake. Or that he had developed that much immunity to Elita's venom. He needed all the advantages he could get at this point, and good intel was definitely an advantage. At least Elita, or rather Blackarachnia seemed to be doing better. Perhaps she had made some kind of peace with her current state? He hoped so.
He had let himself fall back into recharge, and had (hopefully) managed a half-recharging murmur about having strange dreams. The next sol, he did his best to act as though nothing had happened. He wasn't sure if Megatron bought it or not, but there was no sense in letting his pointy roommate be the only one with secrets. He hadn't heard the whole conversation, either. It had taken him a while to shake off Blackarachnia's venom.
Hopefully, Megatron had bought the act.
He had already commed the facility holding Shockwave, Lugnut and the others to warn them that the Decepticons were plotting to free the prisoners. They had assured him that that wouldn't happen. He had filed a report with the Elite Guard, and marked it extremely important, but if his experience was anything to go by, no one was going to read it. He really wished mecha would listen to him once in a while. He had been known to be right on occasion, after all. He shot Jazz a message with a heads-up as well, in the hopes that the mech could pull some strings to get more security put on the incarcerated Decepticons.
If there weren't going to be various perfectly innocent Autobots in the line of fire, he would actually consider it a plus to have those Cons off planet. It was bad enough that he had a slave, they didn't need to make it a habit. It was an abomination before Primus, after all, even if the top brass didn't agree.
He surreptitiously glanced over at Megatron, who was lurking in the main room. The mech was glowering at something on a vidscreen. Optimus wondered if it had been hard for him to tell his people to not rescue him. If he was in the same situation, he would have wanted to get away from his master.
Of course, Megatron apparently had plans to influence events on Cybertron, since he was here. Optimus would have to watch out for that. The Decepticon was wily and extremely experienced. However, if he thought Optimus was going to be a good little pawn in his games, he was going to be disappointed.
The invitation waited. Optimus sighed. Politics. Why was it always politics?
He wandered over to his Decepticon, who seemed rather irritated. He often got that way after accessing Autobot news, however. That reminded him, he needed to look up the poets and musicians of the Canyon Quarter. If the Decepticons were going to be passing their leader (ex leader?) intel that way, it could only be to his advantage to know what it was.
Optimus waved the ornate invitation at the mech to get his attention. "Megatron, I've been invited to the Elite's ball. Apparently it's a celebration of Ultra Magnus's recovery. The wording makes it sound like I'm supposed to bring you along. If I take you with me, will you promise to not make any reasonably avoidable trouble?"
Optical ridges arched, and the Decepticon looked at the invitation the way he would regard a patch of rust. "Ugh. A celebration of that old rustbucket? Filled with politicians, no less. I suppose inventing an emergency and avoiding the whole thing would be unwise. Your enemies would use the opportunity to undermine you. Especially that Twit with the Chin." He sighed. "Well, I shall prepare my processor for the numbing effect of being surrounded by Autobot decadence, and not being able to offline any members of your political class."
"Your sacrifice will be noted." Optimus said dryly. "I assume they want me to bring you, given that the whole slave coding thing was their idea, but this thing is for me and 'party.' What does that even mean?"
Megatron snorted. "You're expected to bring an entourage. For the record, I do not recommend any of your younger crew mates. The medic and the ninja should suffice. Possibly also the pink femme, if she has sufficiently recovered from having her processor scrambled. Along with myself, of course."
Optimus narrowed his optics at the Leader of the Decepticons. "You seem awfully willing to go mingle with a bunch of filthy Autobots all of a sudden." He observed. Was this part of Megatron's machinations to "influence events" even if he was trapped as a slave?
"If I am to be permanently bonded with you, then in a way, your success is my own. Besides, you are not so bad, for an Autobot soldier. There are plenty of mechs it would be worse to associate with."
Wow. That was actually quite a compliment, coming from Megatron. The tone was haughty, but the Decepticon wasn't even sneering when he said it. Optimus fought down an attack of the warm fuzzies.
"Besides, I killed most of these mechs' predecessors. It will be interesting to observe the current Autobot leadership in their native habitat, and to see how they match up." The mech continued. "Besides, if the Old Days are going to be returning, most of them are walking scrap metal, once they meet Strika and my other generals."
That did in the warm fuzzies, all right. Oooookay then. Optimus wasn't sure how to respond to that level of bluntness, so he just commed Ratchet, Arcee and Jazz to see if they would be his... entourage.
Shockwave was sure something was up. One of the guards had made optic contact with him earlier, and when he received his energon cube, there was a symbol scratched into the bottom. He recognized it from the very early days of their rebellion. He had to accidentally break that cube, to remove the evidence. He would have liked to keep it to look at, but that would have been suspicious.
Hopefully it had been real, and not a figment of his imagination as he went slowly mad from the isolation in here. He kept dreaming he was back in his office at Autobot command, with Cliffjumper grumping amiably at him for his workaholism… He missed his office, and the mechs there. He missed hearing from his lord. At this point, he even missed Blitzwing and Lugnut, and before, he would have thought that would only be possible if he had experienced crippling processor damage.
His gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the door to his cell slamming open. Those stabilizers definitely didn't look like they belonged to Decepticons, unfortunately.
"Get up, Deceptiscum." One said. Shockwave obeyed. Perhaps this was his extraction team? Or perhaps he was cracking up, and these were just Autobot guards who were going to take him out to a public square and shoot him. Or worse. There were plenty of worse options. He rose, to follow the order.
Apparently he should have moved more slowly, because his sensor net exploded in agony as the stone-faced guards used their shock sticks to bring him down, and hauled his dazed, twitching form into a lab. A solid kick landed in his midsection, and then another. "Fragging Traitor" one of them said. "What the brass have in mind is too good for the likes of you."
Not a rescue team, then was his last thought before he passed out from the pain.
Ratchet was in a good mood. Though the official purpose of the trip had been to give Omega a shakedown flight and provide Optimus and Megatron the cover to sneak out of their building, it had been a surprisingly enjoyable journey. Sari kept calling it a holiday, and making references to some old Earth musical entertainment. Apparently she wanted them all to watch something called "The Sound of Music" later.
They were in a tiny settlement tucked into a high mountain valley, which they had picked (on Arcee's recommendation) because it was an out of the way place with a decent sized landing area. It had been a good choice, as it turned out.
Omega had gotten to interact with some civilian mecha, and had offered his main bay as a gathering place, much to the delight of the locals. There were old-timers like Ratchet here, who told their younger brethren all sorts of tales about the mighty Supreme mechs. Then there had been dancing, and drinking spicy fuels infused with crystals and interesting metallic additives. Apparently each of these little mountain communities had their own blend, and they kept the recipes secret. Tasty stuff, very unusual.
The young bots were having fun too. Bee and Bulkhead had spent lots of time with other bots their age, who had been admiring them, since they were all famous now, or some slag. Sari had flitted around like a curious mechanical hummingbird. Ratchet smiled to himself. So maybe he had been paying attention to Prowl's enthusiastic descriptions of Earth's creatures back when they were there. Sue him. It had actually been interesting.
The locals had been universally disappointed that Optimus wasn't with them, though. It would have been good for him to be here, but the mech had his servos full with Megatron right now, and frankly Ratchet didn't need to be seeing the fragging lord of the Decepticons wandering around while he was on vacation. Plus, Megatron probably would have frightened off all the nice civilians. That would have been a shame, since Sari and Omega really needed to expand their social horizons a bit. Or a lot. Meeting new bots was good for both of them.
It had been so long since none of them had to worry about wars, or Decepticons, or bizarre deep-space menaces, or politics. It was... really restful. Ratchet hadn't spent much time on the surface of Cybertron since before the Great War. The place had changed so much, it was hardly recognizable. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.
Of course, he had always been a city bot, so the Hexalite Mountains were unfamiliar anyway. It was a nice place, all picturesque and romantic and things like that. He remembered that it had been something that stylish Autobots used to do; come to the mountains for relaxation. There were lots of lovely old buildings scattered around, most of them with views of soaring peaks and deep, mist filled valleys where strange mechanoid life forms dwelled. It was a little like some parts of Earth.
Too bad Prowl wasn't here to see it, he would have liked the place.
Ratchet wandered into Omega's small, modular med bay. It was one of the most protected areas of the ship, near the huge mech's spark, memory core and processors. This close, he could feel the hum of the machinery all around him, keeping his old friend running. It was quiet for once, without a lot of other mecha running around and making a racket.
Bee, Bulkhead and Sari had gone off somewhere, hopefully staying out of trouble, and Arcee had gone to their berthroom to continue with her project. She was trying to catch up on everything she had missed in the time she had been in stasis. Omega had been participating as well, to the best of his abilities. Arcee praised the giant mech for his dedication, acting every bit the early newspark educator and socialization specialist she was. Of course, Omega Supreme was no newspark. He had almost as many operational hours as Bee or Bulkhead. He had always been a little simple, due to the processor he had been built with, but he was emotionally mature for all of that.
The medic frowned. The truth was, Omega had changed in the short time he had been back online. That seemed like it should be impossible, since his revival had been so recent, and he had spent so much time offline and unconscious. Ratchet wondered, sometimes, if if was a side affect of having used the Allspark to resuscitate him. The thing had its own agenda, and even worse, Ratchet often suspected that it had a sense of humor.
Well, if all it had done was upgrade Omega's processors, that was harmless enough. It would be a good thing, give the shipformer more intellectual scope, make him less likely to be tricked by unscrupulous mechs again. Of course, it would take the great mech some time to grow into the modifications, and learn to use his new cognitive abilities. He was still somewhat naive in some ways.
He walked across the now-empty hold to Omega's core, steps echoing. The giant mech had said he wanted to talk to him in private. Ratchet couldn't blame him. There hadn't been much in the way of quiet time lately, with half the village traipsing through, not to mention Bee, Bulkhead and Sari being their usual selves. He headed to the inner chamber that housed some of his friend's components, and where they had used Allspark fragments to jump-start his spark. It seemed like a long time ago now, though in actual time, it had been recently. So much had changed, and was still changing.
Ratchet was grateful to have Omega and Arcee back, but he kept wondering if it was too good to last.
He entered all three passwords, one verbal, one code, and one a sound clip, and let the locking device scan him for ident marks, and entered the small space that housed Omega Supreme's spark and his memory and processor cores.
There was only a little free space in here, so Ratchet leaned up against the door, which had locked after him. He wasn't sure why Omega wanted to talk to him in here instead of on the bridge or in the medbay, but if that was what made his friend feel secure, he wasn't likely to argue. The bridge and the bay were heavy traffic areas, and could potentially have been bugged. No one but Ratchet had visited the great ship's core since his reactivation.
"Thank you for coming, Ratchet." The deep, deep voice vibrated the plating under Ratchet's feet. He shivered, almost imperceptibly. He was all but standing in another mech's spark chamber, after all. It was extraordinarily intimate.
"I'm always happy to talk with you, Omega." Ratchet responded. "Is something wrong? You aren't normally shy about speaking up in the main quarters."
"Not wrong, at least no more than it ever was. I trust you more than any being in this universe, Ratchet." The huge mech seemed to hesitate. "The situation between Optimus and the Decepticon, Megatron has made me decide that there is information that I must share with you, and with no-one else, lest it be misused. Besides the potential consequences to me personally, I am a weapon, sparked and forged, and I never wish to be used against you or the good of the Autobots as a whole."
He paused, and continued in a quieter tone of voice. "Ratchet, I am like Megatron in more ways than being sparked as a weapon."
Ratchet had a bad feeling about the direction this conversation was going to take. "I want you to know that I trust you, and that you can always come to me if you have problems, Omega." He said, laying a servo on the column that held Omega's spark.
He wasn't sure where this was going, but he was pretty sure he wasn't going to like it. It was probably telling that Omega had invited him here, next to the very soul and center of his being, to have this conversation. Ratchet would have been a lot more worried about the 'being like Megatron' line if his friend hadn't basically invited him to the most vulnerable place on his body to confess it. They both knew that a mech with Ratchet's skills could offline the Supreme from here. It was a huge, if nonverbal statement of trust.
"Ratchet, you have always looked after me, even when I was little more than a mindless husk floating though space." The deep voice dropped to a whisper. "I bear the same slave coding that Megatron does, and if there is any possibility of another mech becoming my master, I want it to be you."