Author's Note: This chapter will complete the Darkness Rising segment - and opens the door to new adventures! Thank you for joining me on this adventure so far, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. R&R and let me know your thoughts!
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Electro is my creation.
VI
Electro onlined in the late hours of the morning and found Optimus still absent. After running a personal check on her systems, she found that her vitals had returned to normal levels. A flick of her digits and the accompanying sparks of electricity confirmed the analysis. She rolled out of the berth, glanced at the panel she had removed the night before—perfectly replaced—and slipped out of the room.
When she entered the main hangar, she was mildly surprised to find Optimus reclining on the medbay berth, recharging. She stood there for several kliks, watching his placid features, marveling at the serenity that only seemed to seize him in sleep. Her spark gravitated toward him, wanting to be near, but she listened to her processor instead: Optimus undoubtedly needed a peaceful recharge, especially if he had succumbed to rest during an important mission. So, she quietly approached Ratchet at the monitors and studied the hologram of Earth.
Ratchet, noting her presence, motioned for her to sit. With a soft vent, she sat on a container and waited for Ratchet to perform his medical scan. "I already checked. Vitals are great," she said.
Ratchet harrumphed. "I didn't realize you were a licensed medic."
"More like honorary."
The medic examined the readings from his scan and nodded absently, indicating she was cleared. She moved to stand, but Ratchet placed a servo on her shoulder, keeping her in place. She expected the words before they left his processor. "When were you going to tell me about your science project?"
"When it actually worked," Electro mumbled, crossing her arms over her chassis–deliberately tucking her left arm close, where her new supply of electrical bombs were stashed. Her optics flicked to Optimus. "I didn't want to raise concerns."
"And you think causing an electrical explosion was better?" Ratchet seethed. "If your electricity interacts with dark energon in such a way, there is no telling the damage it could cause–to you or anyone else! You should have told me the moment you began creating those bombs."
"They were relatively harmless," Electro argued. "If I had known they would interact negatively with dark energon–which, let me remind us all, is a rarity since the early days of the war–I would have proceeded more carefully. But we were under duress."
"Eh! No excuses." He extended a servo. "Whatever you have, I want you to give to me."
"I tossed my last one on the battlefield." Electro forced herself to lower her arms to her sides, not wanting to appear guarded. "I haven't made any more."
Ratchet gave her a hard stare; but, finally, he relented and lowered his servo. He nearly spoke, but the rumble of engines drew both of their attention to the tunnel. Bulkhead and Bumblebee entered the hangar, Miko and Raf accompanying them. Electro noted Arcee's absence, but she guessed the two-wheeler may still be secluded in her quarters.
The commotion woke Optimus. Electro saw him meekly rising from the berth, shuttering his optics a few times as he observed the group. When he focused on her, she nodded and offered a small smile, attempting to bury her conversation with Ratchet. She did not enjoy keeping secrets from the medic or Optimus, but she refused to forfeit a valuable weapon during a planet-endangering operation. She would deal with the repercussions in the aftermath.
If you survive, a small voice chided, and she shoved it down, too.
She stepped toward Optimus, wishing to speak with him before continuing their search for the spacebridge, but the monitors blared sharply. She hesitated, listening to Ratchet's pede-steps as he approached the computer and pressed keys. The medic's vents did a sharp intake, and Electro stiffened.
"Optimus," Ratchet called, "I've pinpointed the location of Megatron's spacebridge."
All optics settled upon Ratchet–except, for a nanoklik, Electro and Optimus maintained optic contact before the latter, with an almost apologetic nod, glanced away. The Prime strode toward the monitors. Electro listened, counting the cycles of her vents, then finally pivoted to join the team. She examined the hologram of Earth, expecting to see a location point in some remote sector of the planet. Instead, she realized with dawning shock that an energy signal had registered in Earth's orbital field.
Frag.
"It is high in Earth's orbit," Ratchet noted grimly.
"Out of our reach," Optimus rumbled.
Miko, who still hovered around Bulkhead's pedes, put her hands on her hips. "Okay, I get it: you guys don't fly. But…can't you groundbridge there?"
Ratchet gawked at her. "The groundbridge has limited range! Stretched all the way into orbit, its vortex could snap and scatter us to the stars."
"Isn't she the specialist?" Miko asked, pointing at Electro.
Electro shrugged. "Ratchet isn't wrong. The groundbridge allows us to travel across your world–hence the name. It was not designed for offworld transportation." She shifted her weight to one pede, considering. "I could run some calculations…"
Optimus shook his helm. "Since Megatron is likely already in transit, I'm afraid we must take that risk." He met Electro's gaze. "Reaching the spacebridge first is our only means of stopping him. If we are able to destroy its energy core, then Megatron will have no means of transporting his army to Earth."
Electro's digits twitched. It would be difficult to escape the blast radius in the resulting explosion. If they were able to groundbridge offworld, she would be amazed; but such success would be meaningless if Ratchet could not groundbridge them back before they were obliterated. She knew Optimus understood these risks–she showed him the inner workings of the spacebridge, he was far from incompetent–but she did not have the spark to inform the rest of the team.
Instead, she said, "We should at least try to seize it."
Suddenly, a honk sounded in the entrance tunnel, followed by Arcee speeding into the hangar–with Jack. Initially, Electro was stunned, for she had believed that Arcee was still somewhere in the base. Upon seeing Jack, however, a quiet joy filled her, and she smiled at the pair.
Jack hopped off of Arcee's alternative mode and tugged off his helmet. "Hey! Guess who's back."
Optimus, engrossed in the mission ahead, did not acknowledge Jack. Instead, he ordered, "Autobots, prepare for departure."
Electro noted Jack's crestfallen features and gave him a half-salute. "It's good to have you back, Jack," she said. He rubbed the back of his head and returned her smile.
Arcee transformed, optics flicking between Electro and Optimus. "Where to?"
"The final frontier," Miko said with a hint of mysticism.
"Space?" Jack gasped. He asked Electro, "I thought you didn't have any way to get there?"
"Well," Electro conceded, "it's not an ideal method of travel. But better than fighting an undead army."
"If we're not lost in transport?" Bumblebee asked, moving Raf from his shoulder to the ground.
"Exactly."
The team prepared themselves for combat while Electro and Ratchet configured the groundbridge coordinates. Fortunately, the spacebridge was a stable target, barely shifting in its orbit around the Earth. Although the distance stretched the bandwidth of the groundbridge's power, its accuracy and stability should withstand the initial trip–and, hopefully, the return. Electro highlighted a couple of failsafes for Ratchet, in the event that the groundbridge would not reopen; however, she knew that those failsafes would be obsolete if the team was forced to destroy the spacebridge. They would have only a handful of kliks to evacuate.
The groundbridge prepared, Electro stepped away and studied the team. Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead were sharing farewells with their human companions. Electro smiled softly at the sight as stepped beside Optimus, who hovered near the base entrance. She slipped her servo into his own, squeezing. He turned to her with a determined gleam in his optics, and she gave him an encouraging nod. Whatever may transpire in the battle ahead, the team had one another. They would rise or fall together—and they would give Megatron a Pittish battle.
As the swirling vortex opened, Ratchet groused, "Optimus, if you leave me stranded on a planet teeming with humans, I will never forgive you."
"Harsh," Electro whispered.
Optimus hummed. "Until we meet again, old friend." He surveyed the team, optics resting on each individual. Then, facing the groundbridge and gently releasing Electro's servo, he ordered, "Autobots, roll out!"
They transformed and fell into formation behind Optimus. Ratchet and the children disappeared in Electro's rearview mirror as she entered the portal, the latter waving. Driving through the groundbridge, Electro felt powerful surges channeling through the vortex, undoubtedly due to the intergalactic coordinates it was attempting to bridge. For a spark-stuttering moment, Electro worried that they would find themselves drifting in a vacuum, far removed from the spacebridge. However, they eventually emerged amongst a bed of stars, hovering over Earth. Ahead of them loomed the spacebridge, inactive and massive—large enough for an army to pass through.
"Autobots," Optimus called, "transform and gravitize."
The team listened, transforming and landing on the inner ring of the spacebridge. Electro activated gravitization, her pedes magnetizing to the metal. Turning, she admired the galactic view of Earth: its green-and-blue swirls, softened by the haze of clouds and capped by the arctic poles. It had been several stellar cycles since she had seen the organic planet from this perspective–when she, Optimus, Ratchet, and Bumblebee had first arrived. Although no planet could replace the regalness of Cybertron, she admired the soft beauty of Earth.
Bulkhead rocked beside her, unsteady in zero-gravity. She placed a steadying servo on his shoulder. "Uh, don't look down…or up…or left," he mumbled. His optics flicked toward the open expanse of space–and narrowed. "Wish I couldn't see that."
Electro followed Bulkhead's gaze and saw the Decepticon warship floating toward them–all jagged angles that cut through the darkness, like a Sharkticon in water.
"So Megatron's packing enough dark energon to raise Cybertron's dead?" Arcee asked as she stabilized herself.
"Indeed," Optimus intoned. He turned to both Electro and Arcee. "Electro, Arcee, you must locate the central power core of the spacebridge and destroy it. Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and I will draw their attention to give you time."
"Understood," Electro said, nodding once. "We'll signal you before we reverse the energon flow. We'll have a tight window to evacuate before everything…well, implodes."
"The groundbridge will be ready for you," Ratchet assured over the comms.
"Let's move," Arcee said. She pivoted and began sprinting toward the outer edge of the spacebridge.
Electro pinged Optimus's personal comm and whispered, "My spark is with you, Optimus."
His optics softened. "And mine with yours."
She wanted to say more, but Electro closed the personal comm link and raced after Arcee. They had overcome thousands of impossible circumstances throughout the war. They would survive this one, too.
Electro and Arcee eventually reached the far side of the spacebridge and stepped carefully over the edge, reorienting their equilibrium. Based upon the schematics, the power core was located on the underside of the spacebridge; therefore, they kept moving further down. Electro was surprised–though relieved–that she could not detect gunfire, nor any telltale hum from the bridge itself, signaling its activation. What are you waiting for, Megatron? she wondered.
As if hearing her thoughts, Optimus's voice echoed over the comms and informed them, "It appears the Decepticons' have sustained serious damage to their interstellar navigation system—thanks to Bulkhead."
Electro and Arcee slowed their pace. "Well, they didn't fly out here for the view," Electro said. "They must have a backup plan."
"Megatron must have an alternate targeting system—a remote one," Optimus agreed.
Ratchet huffed, his vocals tinny due to the great distance between them and the base. "From what I know of Earth's technology, I doubt there exists a single radio telescope dish on this planet powerful enough to pinpoint Cybertron."
Raf's voice, soft but audible, spoke up. "What about a whole bunch of linked radio telescope dishes? Like the giant-size array in Texas?"
"This is not child's play!" Ratchet snapped.
Electro stopped, and Arcee grudgingly did the same. She tilted her helm, calculating. "He's…not wrong. Earth's technology is not ideal, but it's not incompetent either. That large of a satellite field could triangulate coordinates. And if someone like Soundwave has infiltrated the system…"
"Navigation problem solved," Arcee said.
"Good thinking, Raf," Optimus said. "Ratchet, have Agent Fowler alert the array staff to the security hazard."
There was a long pause before Ratchet said, "That…may be a challenge. Agent Fowler is still incapacitated."
Raf huffed in frustration. "I can't get past the array's firewalls! They're too thick."
Ratchet, incredulous, asked, "You actually think you could keep the Decepticons out?"
"Maybe. If I could get in."
Jack stepped into the conversation. "W-wait wait, Raf. What if we could get you all the way in—like, inside the building, in?"
Another pause. "I could log into their internal network on the other side of the firewall," Raf said.
"No," Optimus quickly interjected. "The risk is too great. The Decepticons will be there—perhaps even on-site."
"Optimus," Jack said slowly, "with all due respect, you said it yourself: this is bigger than the safety of three humans."
Electro glanced at Arcee, who seemed alarmed by the suggestion. But there was also surprise–perhaps even respect. Jack may have been afraid yesterday, but those trepidations seemed to have melted away. He understood the danger, yet he was still willing to step forward.
Jack was not the only brave human. Miko chimed in,"Yeah! If we let the 'Cons win, we're fragged, along with everyone else on our planet."
Silence stretched across the comms. Finally, Optimus prompted, "Raf?"
A sparkbeat later, the boy said, "I want to give it a shot."
"Very well," Optimus said. Electro knew that Optimus did not want to endanger the children–none of the Autobots wanted their human companions involved in conflict–but disrupting the Decepticons' targeting systems would render the spacebridge useless. "Ratchet, groundbridge the children to the array. Electro, Arcee, assume your positions, but await my command to disrupt the power. We may be able to commandeer this spacebridge."
Electro and Arcee acknowledged Prime and resumed their trajectory. As they neared the next edge, which would place them beneath the spacebridge, four Decepticons flyers rocketed over their helms, transformed, and landed around them. Electro and Arcee spun, backs pressed together, and drew their weapons. Arcee clashed with two of them, blades slashing in a blue blur. Electro ducked between her own two assailants, electricity bursting from her digits. She grasped the chassis of one Decepticon, white bolts curling over his armor, and swung him around, smashing him into his companion.
Beneath them, the spacebridge jolted and hummed. Energon lines glowed beneath their pedes. The spacebridge was locking onto its coordinates. Come on, Raf, she pleaded as another Decepticon landed before her. She drew her blade and swiped low, cutting critical plating above his knee joints. Then she smashed her fist into his helm, sending him pinwheeling into zero gravity. The crunch of metal echoed behind her, and she pivoted—only to find Arcee toppling a Decepticon that had been prepared to shoot Electro.
"Thanks," Electro vented.
Again, the spacebridge trembled, but the energon slowly began to dim.
"Is that good?" Arcee asked, sheathing her blades.
"Very good," Electro said, grinning. "Raf disrupted their targeting systems. Let's keep moving."
They hopped over the edge, gravitizing to the underside of the spacebridge. Electro followed the energon pipes, visible between the metal seams. The lines multiplied as they drew closer to the central power source. However, if Raf was able to deter the Decepticons—even override their control—then she and Arcee would not have to destroy the core.
She had hoped too much.
She and Arcee stumbled as the spacebridge rattled violently. The energon pulsed and glowed, signaling the transference of power. The spacebridge was activating. Scrap! she thought. She grasped Arcee's arm and hauled her to her pedes.
"We have to keep going!" she shouted over the roar of power. They could not see the portal itself, but its power thrummed around them. Her electricity pressed against her armor, responding to the surge of power and begging to be released. She tampered it and focused on finding the core.
Eventually, Electro discovered a large panel radiating heat. She looked to Arcee, who nodded in understanding. Using their blades, they pried at the edge of the panel and tore it free, pulling and pulling until it exposed the central power system. Electro analyzed the pipes and wiring, the command controls and valves. Finally, she located the valve she was looking for: it would reverse the energon flow and cause a crash in the system. That much redirected power, while the spacebridge was open, would be explosive. She had not received a command from Optimus, but a shared glance with Arcee confirmed that they had the same fears: either they destroyed the bridge, or they fought the undead.
She flipped a switch that raised the valve and grasped the handles. She tapped into the comms, "Optimus, I'm going to—"
Blaster shots zipped around her, and she dodged to the side. Above, a jet roared and twirled, transforming midair and landing in a crouch a dozen feet from Electro and Arcee. When the mech unfurled to his full height, Electro felt her spark waver. Megatron towered before them, dark energon pulsing between the seams of his armor.
"Clever," Megatron growled. "I almost forgot Optimus's outlier was a spacebridge specialist." He drew his sword. "How unfortunate you chose to be an Autobot sympathizer."
He charged. Electro rolled beneath his first strike, and she barely regained her stance before the next slash passed inches from her face. She kept light on her pedes, avoiding Megatron's brutal blows. She did not have the strength to parry the warlord, and she needed a safe opening to grasp his armor and unleash her electricity.
When he raised his arm for the next strike, Arcee crashed into his back and sent them both hurtling over a ducking Electro. Megatron rolled, eventually stopping on one knee. Arcee landed perfectly and used her momentum to charge the warlord again, connecting two solid punches against Megatron's helm. Electro darted forward, blade extended, and stabbed at Megatron's spark. He pivoted, narrowly dodging the strike, steel sparking against armor as the blade grazed him. He brought his arm down in a backhanded blow, but Arcee spun and kicked Megatron in the mouth, sending him stumbling backwards.
Electro regained her battle stance, but Arcee waved her servo and shouted, "Cut the power—"
A stray shot struck her, and she flew backwards. No longer magnetized to the bridge, she began listlessly floating away.
"Arcee!" Electro cried. She began to move toward the two-wheeler, but a fist crashed against the side of her helm. She fell hard, bouncing on the unforgiving metal. Warning signals flashed across her vision and the comms buzzed with voices, but she muted both of them. Movement from her peripheral vision urged her to roll before a pede could pin her to the ground.
"A scientist," Megatron mused, "but certainly not a warrior. Come now, where is your electrical prowess? You used it so boldly against my army."
His sword slashed down, and Electro swiveled away from the blade. It barely missed her chassis. Before he could pull it away, though, she slapped her palm against the flat of the blade and sent a bolt of electricity. Megatron hissed and shuffled backwards, but it was not enough to fell him. She was, however, able to regain a crouch and reevaluate. The valve was a short distance behind her, but Megatron would shoot her the moment she turned around. Arcee was incapacitated, and the rest of the team was topside. She needed a distraction.
She touched her forearm. She had a foolish idea.
Electro opened the compartment and snatched the three electrical bombs she had hidden. She fanned them out, allowing them to settle in a crevice between two panels. They were too large to slip between the seams, but their blue glow camouflaged with the energon lines. She pushed to her pedes and backed away. Megatron, regaining his composure as the shocks dissipated, lumbered forward. He seemed more annoyed than injured.
"Is that all you have?" he asked, grinning. His optics glowed a disturbing purple, harkening to the darkness that flooded his frame. "How disappointing."
"Maybe," Electro gasped, backing away, spark racing, "you should watch your step."
Megatron did not have time to react before his pede stepped on three electrical bombs, cracking their delicate casings and conducting powerful bolts throughout his armor. Megatron cried out and stumbled away, frame convulsing with the electrical currents that flashed purple as it interacted with the dark energon. Electro seized the opportunity to spin, dash to the valve, grip the handles, and turn with all her strength. The valve was stubborn, but slowly it submitted to her desperation. Once it turned fully, the system groaned, and the energon that had been rushing out began to return to the core in a terrifying wave. It only took a few kliks before the effects materialized: panels buckled, energon seized, and a dangerous energy pounded in the air.
She heard an enraged roar behind her, and a blaster shot grazed her shoulder, scorching the armor. She ducked, processor panicking as wondered how to keep fighting a gladiatorial warlord. She did not have much hope against Megatron's brute force or his fury. However, when she faced Megatron, she saw Optimus instead, grappling with the warlord. Optimus had seized Megatron's fusion cannon while his sword punched toward Megatron's chassis. The warlord deflected the strike, kicked out one of Optimus's legs, and flung the Prime to the side. Megatron's optics settled on her then, and Electro saw the glimmer of death staring back at her. But the broken, screeching noises of the imploding spacebridge seized his attention; and, with a shout, he transformed and rocketed toward the portal.
Electro watched him disappear. Then, from the corner of her optics, she saw Bumblebee leap and grab onto Arcee, plummeting off the side of the spacebridge, Bulkhead following blindly after him. She opened her comms, having forgotten she had muted them.
Ratchet was shouting, "Jump! Get out of there, now!"
Servos hooked into her armor and hauled her up: Optimus, who wasted no time dragging her toward the edge of the spacebridge. As they ran, Electro heard panels bursting behind them and energon whining in overheated pipes. Burning heat radiated around them, scorching her pedes and overwhelming her olfactory sensors. Then, blindly, they leapt from the spacebridge, hurtled through space, and disappeared into a swirling vortex as the spacebridge completely erupted.
It was disorienting, transitioning from freefall to standing on solid ground. She found herself clinging to Optimus, his servos equally desperate as they gripped her armor. They cycled through a few vents before detangling–slowly, reluctantly, one of Optimus's servos still resting on her upper arm. They looked at each other. The confirmation was wordless: we survived, your spark is still with me.
They were the last two bots to enter the hangar, and Ratchet deactivated the groundbridge, which gave a defeated whine. Vaguely, Electro knew she would have to recalibrate the system and ensure that none of the data chips had been fried; but the exhaustion of battle made the work sound intolerable. A glance at the computers showed a splintered spacebridge hovering in Earth's orbit, its energy dissipating into the emptiness of space.
Electro's optics swept across the room, noting each Autobot until she finally saw Arcee recuperating on the medical berth. The two-wheeler had regained consciousness, and Jack sat beside her. She looked up when Electro and Optimus entered the hangar, and she offered a tired, relieved smile.
Ratchet approached Electro and Optimus. "And Megatron?" he asked, performing a quick scan of Electro.
Optimus's battle mask slid away. "Not even he could have survived ground zero."
Ratchet finished his scan, then waved Electro toward Arcee's berth, apparently finding something amiss. She gently slid away from Optimus and sat in the empty space at Arcee's pedes.
"Looks like you took quite the hit," Arcee said, indicating the side of her face.
Electro delicately touched the area, feeling a crack in the plating stretching from her cheek to the side of her helm. Cycling through her warning messages, she did not see any imminent internal damage. "You should have seen the other guy," she teased. "Though, that may have been you, mostly."
Arcee huffed a laugh. "Neither of us could do it alone."
"Prime." All optics turned to Agent Fowler, who had regained lucidity. He was shrugging on his suit jacket and standing at the entrance of the elevator. He continued, "I didn't get to thank you bots for the save. I owe you one." He stepped into the awaiting elevator. "We all do."
Once the elevator doors closed, Electro said, "Hmm. Maybe we won't replace him yet."
Miko, who had been speaking with Bulkhead, approached Optimus with rare timidness. "So," she said, pressing her pointer fingers together, "is this the part where you say goodbye and tell us we need to forget we ever saw you?"
Optimus studied Miko and Raf, then flicked his optics to Jack, who stood between Arcee and Electro. Bulkhead and Bumblebee stared at their leader expectantly, and Ratchet tried to distinctly appear uninterested. Electro stared at Optimus earnestly, quietly willing his spark to hear her: Let them stay, OP.
Finally, with a gentle smile, he said, "No, I do not believe this has to be farewell."
Electro found Optimus standing on the landing platform above their base. His optics were dim, indicating he was communicating. She sidled forward, keeping light on her pedes, until she was directly behind him. She slipped her arms around his waist, pulling herself flush to his back. He jolted lightly, then rested a servo over her clasped ones.
He was quiet another thirty kliks before rumbling, "I was sending a message."
"I know," she murmured, her uninjured cheek resting against his back, her optics surveying the desert. The sunset bathed the land in an orange and red hue. "What was the message?"
"It was an invitation," he said, "and a warning."
"Ominously friendly," Electro hummed.
He gently pulled her servos apart and spun to face her. He brushed a single digit over the scar along the side of her helm, then his optics flickered to her shoulder, where Ratchet had already repaired the surface injury. Optimus did not say anything, but Electro could detect the emotions warring behind his optics. The mission had been successful: the spacebridge had been permanently wrested from Decepticon control, the undead army was subdued, and Megatron was undoubtedly terminated due to the explosion. It was an Autobot victory—one she and the team had been waiting for these past three stellar cycles on Earth. Unfortunately, though, it was also a victory that bore consequences.
Cliffjumper was still gone, and Electro hated that he had undergone the dastardly effects of dark energon. Arcee had disappeared for an hour that afternoon, and Electro suspected the two-wheeler had gone to visit her partner's memorial. There was also the unknown state of Decepticon leadership and activity. It was assumed that Starscream would continue the Decepticon tyranny—he never bypassed an opportunity to obtain control of Megatron's army—but the 'cons and their warship had disappeared from the radars. The Autobots would have to sit and wait for their enemy to act.
Then there was this moment: Optimus, studying her wounds. Bumblebee had related the mechs' side of the battle, with no little flourish. When he began telling the events after Megatron tossed the dark energon into the spacebridge, however, Electro felt a heaviness in her spark. Optimus had seen Megatron's trajectory to the underside of the spacebridge, and he immediately commed her and Arcee to retreat—but the transmission failed to send. Thus, the mechs had raced to convene with Electro and Arcee, stumbling upon the battle in the kliks before Electro detonated the spacebridge. Optimus had charged Megatron and diverted the blaster shot aimed for Electro's spark. Electro was mildly amused at Bumblebee's enthusiastic retelling—it demonstrated his youth—but she worried for Optimus, who carried a heavier responsibility upon his shoulders. Much more could have gone awry during the battle; and though they had all survived, she knew Optimus's processor would replay the battle, haunted by the possibilities of failure. Thus, once the team had taken their human charges home and the base had quieted, she went searching for the absent Prime.
Of course, combating Megatron had been terrifying for her, too. Despite her scientific background, she considered herself a decent warrior, and her innate electrical abilities gave her a unique position on the battlefield. Nevertheless, Megatron retained years of gladiatorial experience, and he had led an army with brute force for centuries. She and Arcee were temporary hurdles in his optics.
Yet, he was the one who perished. In this moment, as she stood before the one she already considered a sparkmate, she did not have to fear a warlord or an impending army. Indeed, there was an uncertain future ahead, but she relished the solitude, the safety, the nearness of the spark she loved.
Venting softly, she held out her servos. "Do you remember that high-end party you invited me to in Iacon?" she asked.
Optimus tilted his helm as he placed his servos in her awaiting ones. "The one from the holocube," he said, amused. "It was a casual social gathering."
She rolled her optics. "Semantics." She tugged him away from the edge. "Since I was a secluded outlier scientist who loved the thrill of a race–it was fancy. And I was in public with you."
A chuckle shook Optimus's frame. "Was I that embarrassing to be seen with?"
She smiled. "Hardly." She halted, still holding Optimus's servos. "You were intelligent, kind, and ambitious. Looking back now, I'm confident I had to place an electrical field around you to keep the other femmes away. Quite risky."
"Hmm." He brushed his thumbs over her digits. "I don't remember any of them."
Electro gave a satisfied hum. "Good. It worked well." She stepped closer to him and murmured, "And when the music began, do you remember what you asked me?"
His optics brightened. "To dance."
"To dance," she repeated. Then, coyly, she asked, "Will you dance with me, Optimus Prime?"
"I am not sure I retained those skills."
"I never had them. Humor me."
Optimus hummed, then situated her servos: one resting on his proffered forearm, the other grasped in his own servo. Then he began a slow step that guided them around the landing pad. They had no music, no fellow dance partners, and no audience. The sun's dying rays reflected on their armor, and a dry wind curled around them. Electro kept glancing down at their pedes, genuinely worried she would stumble; but Optimus tugged her closer, eliminating her view. She lifted her helm with raised optics. He smiled gently.
She was reminded of that evening, turning slowly in the sparkling lights. She had originally planned to participate in a daring race in Kaon; but, when she went to the Iacon archives for nonsensical research–truly, she had used the excuse to speak to Orion–the archivist had surprisingly invited her. Social gatherings, especially expensive ones, were not her preference, but she had been surprised by the offer. Of course, she and Orion had been meeting outside of the archives–friendship or courting, Electro had been unsure–but that had been a bold step forward. If she and Orion arrived together at a party, they were making a statement. Her processor had screamed no; her spark had trilled absolutely. She listened to the latter.
Now, centuries later, they were dancing again in the middle of an Earth desert. How the universe toys with me, she mused.
After a few silent minutes, she said, "You remember well, OP."
"And you have improved."
Scowling, she deliberately stepped on his pede, which only caused them both to stumble. Optimus recovered quickly, slipping an arm around her to keep her from falling. She laughed, resting her servos on his chest plates, digits curling over the top of the window panels. From the corner of her optics, she saw the proximity sensor flashing. Truly, only Ratchet would see them, since the rest of the team had taken the children home. But the intimacy of the moment and the possibility of being watched quieted her, and she tucked in helm against Optimus's chassis. He continued the slow step, spinning them away from the sensors.
Tentatively, she murmured, "What comes next?"
"I do not know," he said. Electro assumed he had an idea of the future–about the team, about the Decepticons, about Earth–but she was admittedly relieved he let those worries lie dormant. Instead, he rumbled, "I am only concerned about this moment. About who is in front of me."
She smiled secretly. "A romantic," she teased.
"You asked me to dance."
She shuttered her optics, accustomed to the sway of their step and the steady rhythm of his spark. Only a sliver of sunlight remained on the horizon. "I wanted to hold you close," she whispered. "I wanted you to have some peace. To not be afraid."
Optimus was quiet for a while. Finally, he said, "Fear accompanies titles such as mine: a Prime, a leader, a soldier." He slowed to a stop, and Electro lifted her helm, meeting his gaze. "But I take comfort in my family here. In my sparkmate."
She did not correct him with to be. Her spark spun with joy–with love. She rested her servo flat on Optimus's chassis. "My spark," she murmured.
His gaze softened, and he rested a servo over hers. "My home."
