Author's Note: In this chapter, Optimus makes reference to "his experiences in the Well." Those experiences are in our fic "Introductions: Optimus Prime." This story should be understandable without having read Intro:OP, but if you'd like to read more, now you know where to look. Hope you enjoy!
Will Lennox came running up to Optimus. "Prime! Prime, you need to see this."
Optimus paused, setting down the HIMARS-carrying truck he was about to subspace, and turned his attention to the human. Will was holding up his phone.
On the little screen was a text message from his wife Sarah. It simply said, "MBW says to tell her bro-in-law to go to sleep."
Why would Mikeala break radio silence to tell him to go into recharge? The obvious answer was because Sam needed to communicate with him.
"That's you, right?" Will demanded.
"Yes. Thank you. Please let her know the message has been received." Then he subspaced the HIMARS.
Lennox nodded and trotted back over to where he was overseeing the NEST humans' preparation for the solar storm.
Optimus turned to Ironhide, "I need to recharge for 10 minutes."
Ironside paused in surprise and looked at him. "Why?"
"Because there's intel I need to process."
"Alright. I'll cover for you."
The entire base was loud and chaotic, preparing for the assault that was already on its way. The leading edge of the solar storm would be hitting the BINDS satellites within minutes. Megatron would follow in less than five hours. He'd orchestrated the entire thing so that he and his Decepticons would arrive as soon as the solar storm abated to levels that a Cybertronian could safely withstand outside of their cometary forms. In the meantime, however, he'd be close enough to observe while en route. Optimus had no doubt Megatron would be watching with pleasure – from a safe distance – as Earth was brought to its knees.
If he powered down now, it would be obvious and result in too many questions later. (Assuming there would be a later – which was a genuine uncertainty now.)
"Make it fifteen," Optimus corrected to Ironhide, striding toward his trailer and the Blackbird armor it contained. Placing his hands on either side of it, he hid the trailer in his subspace. "I'm driving to Major Lennox's house."
"His ladies have evacuated," 'Hide pointed out behind him.
"For which I am grateful. I will be in the way if I remain on base."
'Hide grunted in understanding and continued subspacing everything he could.
The civilian areas of Diego Garcia were empty – the inhabitants had evacuated on the same ship as Spitfire and Spitlet – and Optimus decided that he didn't need to go all the way to the Lennox house to be out of the way. Pulling over behind the Enlisted Men's Club, he hesitated.
Battle protocols had buffered the worst of his grief over Ultra Magnus' sacrifice, but he would have to drop those protocols in order to enter recharge. Leaning into his bond with Sam, he ended the protocols, allowing the pain and grief to crash over him. Thankfully distance had spared him most of the recoil of a broken bond, but the impact-point on his spark ached from the loss.
Sam's affection and compassion embraced him, but Optimus also recognized that his brother was far too anxious to sleep, despite how exhausted he was. This was all too much to process right now. Later, if there was a later, Optimus would grieve with him. For now, he forced the grief down and sent a wave of peace and calm across the bond. Optimus felt Sam take hold of that peace and echo it back to him, allowing him to slip into recharge.
"There you are!" Sam exclaimed. They were both on the aircraft carrier.
"I don't have much time," Optimus began.
Sam interrupted him. "I know, and I'm sorry I had to put you through that, but it wasn't safe to tell you any other way. I had a dream and saw Alpha Trion."
"You saw him?"
"Later. The staff is part of a sword, and you're right that it was made by Solus Prime. It's designed to work with the Matrix of Leadership. Alpha Trion said to slide the Matrix onto the staff – that the Matrix forms the cross-piece of the hilts, like a hand-guard or something. You have to do it now, he said. Assemble the sword. He said you can save Earth with it. Fly as high and as fast as you can. Got it?"
"Yes."
Sam nodded decisively, stepped closer, and rested his forehead against Optimus' helm. "Take care of yourself, brother."
"You as well."
Optimus' systems came online, and he transformed to his full height, pulling the Blackbird armor from subspace and incorporating it. Withdrawing the staff from subspace, he then opened the compartment in his frame where he stored the Matrix of Leadership. It levitated out, and Optimus guided it toward the tip of the staff.
The Matrix's inner frame shifted with a mechanical sound, making a space for him to insert the staff. Oriented crossways, the Matrix slid smoothly down over the staff until it reached the point where Wheeljack and Beachcomber had discovered the score-marks. Then it snugly latched into place and triggered a transformation of both the Matrix and the staff. It was indeed a sword Optimus now held in his hands, and the spark at the heart of the hilt flared brilliant blue. A sword of the Primes.
What are you? he again wondered.
forged in the smithy of the gods
molten eternity made tangible
leant to the offspring to protect and tame
Optimus mentally recoiled as the images and ideas flooded his spark and processor. This was more than just an object; something within it was alive. Not quite a consciousness, or perhaps it was just a sliver of one? Or a slumbering spark? Whatever it was, it answered when he called.
Tentatively, he tried again. How can you help me?
shield friends
slaughter enemies
sunder planets
subjugate stars
Again, Optimus pulled away from the connection, his processors reeling from the mental images. The amount of power in this sword was stunning, but at the moment, it was also overwhelming. He needed to be more specific. How can you save Earth?
shield friends
subjugate stars
stave off storms
Optimus launched into the air, comming Ironhide as an afterthought. /I'm delegating command over Diego Garcia's preparations to you./
/Why? And what are you doing flying around? You need to get into your cometary form, too./
/I know how to save Earth, how to turn aside the solar storm. Continue to prepare for Megatron and the others./
/Understood. Well, not really, but whatever… I've got your six, Optimus. Stay in contact./
/I'll do my best./
In flight, he said to the sword, Will you help me stave off the storm?
Images dizzily swirled through him – electrical storms, blizzards, hurricanes, tornadoes, sandstorms…
He mentally pulled away again. Words were getting in the way – he needed to treat this more like a bond. Reaching out again, he remembered the massive solar flare they'd watched form, then he visualized the wave that was even now hurtling toward them.
Understanding swelled through him, and new images filled his mind: him reaching into and through the sword just like he did with the Matrix of Leadership, catching and pulling in the particles, harvesting them for the All Spark.
YES! he exulted.
Ghosts of pain flitted through him – a warning that, as always, using the Matrix on this scale would come at a cost.
Resolve filled Optimus. It is what must be done.
A presence flowed in and through him as though over a bond, finding and activating motor relays, tapping into sensory feeds. Optimus wasn't sure if he was wielding the saber or if it was wielding him.
Then he was raising the saber above his helm, something of his own spark reaching out across the void of space and feeling the first warning ripples of a wave. Even that was enough to smash through the BINDS satellites.
Here it comes!
His own spark stretched wide like the servos of Primus Himself, scooping up the full wrath of the sun and funneling it down the gullet of the saber to be eagerly devoured by the All Spark. Still he flew upward, extending the width of his reach.
Not the light, the Optimus-spark reflexively thought. The humans will see and wonder.
In response, the saber-spark shifted, letting the typical photons through, and the All Spark grudging agreed. The bombardment was a feast at once terrifying and delightful as the storm's intended prey again became the Hunter.
But it was not without cost.
Swiftly the All Spark swelled bright and hot, burning white as it coursed through the Optimus-spark to swoop and rake and tear at the feast. The Prime was a suspended cinder, Icarus forged under a different sun, and while Sol could not touch him, still his wings went on burning…
It is what must be done.
…burning…
Courage and sacrifice, the marks of a Prime.
…burning…
No sacrifice, no victory.
…burning…
Until he was falling, and Optimus pulled his spark away enough to right his course and again hold the saber aloft.
Starscream was taking aim.
Starscream who was flying beneath that funnel-shaped shield the saber-spark created, his trine-mates on either side. Starscream who was here to watch the world burn and, failing that, would settle for him.
The pain of Starscream's missile-impact had been lost in the burning pain of swallowing a sun.
slaughter enemies, the saber-spark offered.
No! the Optimus-spark insisted. Stave off the storm.
He had no concept of how much time had passed, only that the bombardment was weakening. It was still strong enough to interfere with Autobot comms, though, at least at this distance from Earth's surface.
The Optimus-spark repeatedly fired his rifle as a countermeasure, destroying Starscream's missile, and then set his sights on the Seeker.
The saber-spark reached back and through, giving power to the rifle's projectile, and it devastatingly struck home. Starscream faltered in flight, falling. Skywarp went after him, while Thundercracker opened fire. Megatron was not far off and closing fast.
The Optimus-spark took the blows and fought back with all he alone had, fought to keep one servo raised, fought to continue shielding the Earth and feeding the All Spark.
Megatron closed on him, and, transforming, fired his cannon at him. The Optimus-spark dodged in time, and the saber-spark returned fire though the rifle, shattering Megatron's arm and damaging his cannon. Sneering in fury, Megatron tackled the Prime, knocking the saber from his servo and jaggedly severing Optimus from the intelligence within. The sword glinted as it tumbled back toward Earth, flung with all the force of Megatron's impact.
Thanks to the shattered arm, Optimus was able to break free from Megatron's hold, and he dove straight down, chasing the dropped saber. Megatron transformed into his jet form and followed until he was close enough to transform and reach out with his good arm to grip Optimus' ankle. Optimus kicked back, connecting with Megatron's helm and sending him wheeling. The Prime barely noticed, focused as he was on regaining that all-precious sword. Megatron eventually overtook him in jet mode and transformed to pace him, his thrusters blazing, and flew face-to-face. /It's over Prime,/ he sent, the words crackling in the storm's interference. /Surrender and I'll make your death quick./
Optimus struck out with his left fist, and Megatron's shattered arm could not block the blow. The force of it knocked the Decepticon off course and sent Optimus into a spiral, but he put all his strength into speed as he gained on the saber. The atmosphere was thick enough now that it began heating his plating. His frame burned like his spark had earlier.
Megatron plowed into him again, knocking him away from the saber, but Optimus swooped around and caught it by the hilts, one desperate thought filling him: Stave off the storm!
Again the saber-spark activated motor relays and tapped into sensory feeds.
"ENOUGH!" roared from the saber-spark and through the Optimus-spark. The Prime whirled, swinging the blade that was now humming with power. An energy wave arcked out from its tip, making the air dance as it cracklingly caught Megatron across his chassis and hurled him with such force that it sent him tumbling beyond sight.
The Optimus-spark pulled back, disengaged, stunned by what he'd – they'd – just done. 'Sunder planets,' the sword had told him. 'Subjugate stars.' He must never, under any circumstances, forget what exactly it was he held in his servos. While Solus Prime had clearly designed this sword to work with the Matrix of Leadership, that was while the Cube was still whole and on Cybertron. The Matrix had undergone a significant upgrade since then, and he had just turned the All Spark against a fellow spark, a fellow creation, in battle. A Prime born from a human mother might be justified in such a thing, but not one born from the All Spark.
Allowing himself to be drawn back in, the Optimus-spark tentatively asked, "What was that?"
"ENOUGH," the saber-spark bellowed again.
"Stave off the storm," the Optimus-spark reminded.
"Enough." The saber-spark answered with the Optimus-spark's own diagnostics. Earth's magnetic fields were largely intact, filtering out enough of the remaining charged particles that his own circuitry was fine, even though he wasn't in his cometary form.
"Shield friends," the Optimus-spark requested.
Images flowed in from the saber-spark – satellites falling, auroras dancing, cities shimmering with light, human-built aircraft taking off… "enough."
Earth would not be untouched, but the worst damage had been averted. The Optimus-spark slowly vented a sigh. "Enough," he agreed.
"Slaughter enemies," the saber-spark declared.
The Optimus-spark was tempted – he could not hide that from the saber-spark. But he was truly wielding the Matrix of Leadership, the All Spark itself, and he would not use it unless the need was great. Besides, like the Optimus-spark had told his human brother, he didn't want to accidentally tear a hole in spacetime. It was power too great to use in the heat of battle. The Matrix of Leadership was a relic too precious to risk that way. Firmly, the Optimus-spark said, "Enough."
The saber-spark reluctantly agreed and withdrew from relays and sensors. Then the sword transformed, turning again into the Matrix of Leadership and a simple staff. Optimus separated the two pieces, returning the staff to subspace and the Matrix to its home in his frame.
He looked around then, disoriented as he hovered a couple of thousand feet in the air. Damping his pain sensors helped – his wounds were throbbing, and the ache from his intense experience as a conduit for the All Spark lingered in his circuits. Dialing all that back helped clear his processor a bit. He was surrounded by the ocean and, thanks to either the interference or the many disabled GPS satellites, he had no idea where he was. All during his time using the sword, he'd stayed at the zenith, the place closest to the sun, while Earth continued to turn beneath him. And since he'd lost all sense of the passage of time during that experience, he could be almost anywhere.
With no better option, Optimus simply flew straight up. His systems, particularly the Blackbird armor, had taken a pounding between the Decepticons and a freefall reentry while in the wrong form, and Ratchet was going to be less than pleased. He could only manage a little over 50% of his usual speed. Still, he'd take it and pray that his repair systems could keep up with the strain he was putting everything else under.
Eventually, shorelines appeared when he looked back and they gradually became land masses. It took him several minutes to match the view beneath him to the various maps in his memory.
Madagascar. He was between Madagascar and the African coast. He must have drifted quite a bit south during his fight with Megatron.
The Matrix stirred in its compartment in his frame, and he recalled his last flight here, with Ultra Magnus aboard the Iron Will.
Raising his battle protocols against the memory, he turned east and flew home with all the speed he could muster.
Night was falling when he finally approached Diego Garcia, and he could see flashes of weapons fire in the darkness.
Megatron.
Optimus had no interest in sundering planets or subjugating stars, but if Megatron lived to see Sol rise again, the Decepticon was going to be in enough pain to regret it. The Prime transformed into cometary form and took aim, coming in like a cannonball.
Fate spared Megatron, and he moved at the last astrosecond. Optimus' impact on Megatron was only a glancing one, but it still satisfyingly threw him a good fifty feet. As the Prime transformed, the warlord staggered to his pedes and called out, "Retreat! He has the Star Saber! Retreat!" The gash across his chassis was still an angry red, and seven Decepticons followed him into the darkness.
Only then did Optimus realize which creation of Solus Prime's he carried in his frame: the Star Saber.
He didn't follow the Decepticons, though. Ironhide was laying in a pool of energon, and from the damage he'd sustained, it was clear he had led the defense of Diego Garcia in Optimus' absence. Ratchet was wounded next to him but was already working to seal the leaks and stabilize Ironhide's spark.
"How can I help?" Optimus asked.
"You've helped enough," Ratchet grumbled. Then more loudly, he called, "Quinn! Johnston! Come here now! And bring Sanchez!"
"Sanchez is dead," Johnston said as he came running up. "And O'Donnell is wounded." He unslung and opened a case, then selected some human-adapted tools from it so he could start working on Ironhide. "Quinn and Williams have just about got Sideswipe stabilized, but he's a mess."
Impassively, Ratchet said, "There, just off his energon pump. You can reach it better than I can." But the medic's own tools never faltered.
"Optimus!" Iron Will exclaimed, stumbling closer. "You made it."
He solemnly nodded. "Too late, but I made it."
"We need energon!" Ratchet snapped. "The 'cons raided my med bay and Prowl lost a doorwing, so he's in no shape for formalities."
Understanding, Optimus knelt on one knee and eventually found an energon traders' vessel in his subspace. Retrieving it, he set it on the ground and activated the energy fields that would harmonize and calm the energon, to keep it from detonating.
Like happened with the Iron Will.
He pushed that thought away and instead opened the compartment in his frame. The Matrix of Leadership was full of enough power that it readily changed modes, the light within shifting from blue to green. He carefully positioned it above the mouth of the vessel and offlined his optics.
And then he remembered.
He remembered the thoughts and images Primus had shared, during Optimus' trial in the Well of All Sparks. The white-hot essence of his Creator rolled through him, but he'd already been tempered in the Well. While he felt the blaze and weight of Presence, he was not consumed.
Onlining his optics, he witnessed again with awe as energon fell like tears from the Matrix and filled the vessel. When it was full, he dammed up the flow by sheer force of will, holding back the outpourings of his god. Hiding his exertion, he asked Ratchet, "How much more do we need?"
"That'll tide Ironhide over for now," he answered, taking the vessel from his servos. "When Prowl's up for pulling a few more vessels out of subspace for us, I'll have you fill them."
Optimus nodded and closed his servo around the Matrix, silently offering gratitude. The Matrix understood, and the stunning Presence withdrew. Optimus vented a sigh of relief.
Straightening, he again returned the Matrix to its home and then glanced down to see Iron Will standing with his jaw hanging open, his eyes wide.
It occurred to Optimus that this was the first time the NEST humans had witnessed this rite. Johnston was as stunned and slack-jawed as Iron Will.
"Is that…did you just…like you would squeeze an orange?" Will stuttered.
Baffled, Optimus said, "The Matrix of Leadership is more complicated – and significant – than an orange."
Lennox snorted and shook his head as though to clear it. "All right, people, we've got business!"
As the humans set to work finding and helping the wounded, recovering the dead, and clearing debris, Optimus set about clearing his subspace pockets. If Megatron decided to return, the humans would need the weaponry stored there.
Ratchet commed Optimus, /What happened to you?/ The comm connection was still full of static.
Optimus considered that question. /I was possessed by the Star Saber, or I wielded it. It's a fine line at times. With it, I protected the planet from the strongest part of the solar storm, though as you can tell, we're not entirely clear yet./
/You stopped so you could help us?/ Ratchet wondered.
/I stopped because Megatron knocked the Saber from my servo. Did you see the damage to his chassis?/
/Yes. I wondered what caused it./
/I did. Or rather, the Star Saber did./
/So why did you let him and ten other Decepticons beat the everliving slag out of us for fifteen minutes before showing up?/ Ratchet demanded, throwing a glare his way. /I've lost at least one of my repair crew and maybe two!/
Optimus was stunned by the question. How could Megatron have gotten so far ahead of him? /He must have been thrown eastward by the blow. I was disoriented after my… experience with the Star Saber and didn't know where I was. I had to fly toward space until I could map out the contours of the landmass below and determine my position from there./ Had he cooperated with the Star Saber and pursued Megaton, Sanchez might be alive right now. Ironhide might not be on the brink of being extinguished himself. Megatron could have been the one extinguished instead.
Ratchet grunted but didn't otherwise comment, focusing on Ironhide's repair.
…
With the rising of the sun the next morning, Optimus was on a video conference call with the JCS.
"We'll await your written report before we do an in-depth mission analysis," General Morshower began, "but I wanted to say it's damn good to be able to see and talk with you, Prime."
Optimus' spark swelled with amity for Morshower. "I, too, am grateful Earth and NEST managed to avoid catastrophe."
"In his preliminary report, Lennox said Megatron turned tail and skedaddled the second you showed up. Something about a superweapon you have now?"
"That's not something I feel at liberty to discuss," Optimus answered, despite that amity.
"Look, Prime," Morshower said, leaning closer, "we can keep it off the record, but a third of the BINDS satellites are down, and it's going to take months to get even a basic defensive network up and running. It'll probably be years before we get enough of them up there for BINDS to be considered back at full strength. In the meantime, we're open to attack. Should we be hiding the President and shipping the Witwicky kid off to Diego Garcia, or do you have something up your sleeve that will actually keep those Decepticons off our back?"
Optimus slowly vented a sigh. "At 04:00 hours local time, we sighted 14 Cybertronians headed away from Earth and toward Mars. We are watching to ensure that they will go though the space-bridge. You and the President may rest easy knowing that the Decepticons are exiting the solar system. If they change course or return, we will have hours if not days to discuss exactly what I have 'up my sleeve' and just how effectively it can defend Earth. I assume that will suffice."
Morshower sighed and eyed him beadily. "Fine, but that means you owe me a favor. We've lost contact with the ISS, and the next scheduled supply run isn't for more than six weeks. If you're up for flying, we need an assist."
"You shall have it," Optimus agreed, grateful for the compromise.
When Optimus didn't elaborate beyond that, an admiral asked, "So the space-bridge isn't broken?"
"Not anymore, by all appearances," Optimus answered. "The effects of the Iron Will's detonation seems to have been temporary. Wheeljack reports that the observed space-bridge malfunction lasted for more than an hour. About three hours after it ended, the space-bridge briefly opened again and eight Decepticons used it to leave the solar system. During that hour, though, the space-bridge remained open on our end; typically it's automated to stay open for only a couple of minutes before and after matter passes through it. His best guess is that the detonation sent a surge through the space-bridge system."
"Wait," another admiral asked. "What would that do to someone who entered it during the malfunction?"
"Unknown. Since no one else came through, Wheeljack speculated the surge forced open all the space-bridges simultaneously. If that is indeed what happened, any Decepticons who went inside it during that hour ended up in random places around the universe or they became everywhere at once, effectively trapping them permanently in the space-bridge system – in a dead universe."
"Sounds unpleasant," Morshower grunted.
"By all accounts, it is," Optimus confirmed.
Another general asked, "So how many Decepticon casualties are we talking about from the space-bridge malfunction?"
"Also unknown. It could be none, it could be one wave of a dozen, or it could be hundreds. It depends on how quickly they figured out something was wrong."
"Well," Morshower said, "with any luck, the Decepticons will be wary about coming back anytime soon, between whatever spooked Megatron and the faulty space-bridge."
"That is our hope," Optimus said.
A little formally, General Morshower asked, "Is it the opinion of yourself and Major Lennox that the local civilians would be safe if they return to Diego Garcia?"
"It is."
"Then the order is given: bring everyone home."
Not everyone, Optimus thought, the newforming scar on his spark reminding him of Ultra Magnus and those who stood with him. But aloud, he answered, "Yes sir."
…
As Alpha Trion had impressed upon him so long ago, Optimus took the time to read the complete casualty report.
There were more than two-dozen human dead – most notably Kevin Graham and Bernie Sanchez – but each and every one of them was a spark of light and life now extinguished, Optimus reflected. The nearly sixty wounded ranged from critical condition to minor injuries. Though Optimus was saddened to see O'Donnell on the list with multiple injuries, including head trauma, he was relieved that William Lennox was not on the list at all and that Epps had only needed three stitches and wasn't even assigned to light duty.
The entire crew of the Iron Will was listed as missing and presumed dead: Ultra Magnus, Lancer, Kup, Blaster, Roadbuster, Bulkhead, Cliffjumper, Brawn, Inferno, Firestar, Blurr, Windcharger, and Beachcomber.
As for the Autobots on Earth, their barracks had to be repurposed into a makeshift med bay, so many were injured. Ironhide was the worst, and Ratchet made a point of stating in his notes that one more blow from Megatron probably would have offlined him. Both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe individually rivaled his level of damage and together required even more care than 'Hide did. Chromia was behind the twins in terms of how badly she'd been hurt, but not by much. Prowl's wounds, while painful and debilitating, were not ultimately spark-threatening. Arcee had lost two of her components and her third one's wheel had been crushed. Ratchet next listed his own injuries, with the note that his remaining human helpers had sufficient skill among them to complete his repairs. Optimus himself was next on the list of wounded, with those who came after him sustaining lighter damage. Every single Autobot on Diego Garcia had been injured, though.
Not counting Starscream's massacre where Elita One perished, it had been centuries since they'd had a battle as devastating as this one. As bad as it was, it could have been worse. Much worse.
Recognizing that truth and fortifying himself with it, Optimus lowered his battle protocols and let the grief crash over him.