It's our war now — part 1
It was rare for the Autobots to have a decent, peaceful evening.
Tranquility is a luxury that they cannot always pursue, but today was one of those days where everything was taken with more ease. The leader had gone for a drive, the physician was bound to his computers, the three guardians were spending time with their respective human children, while the spy was taking an early recharge, so he could be ready for the night shift.
One of them was missing. Comfortably situated at the roof of base, the brigadier was staring off into the distance. The base was set in the outskirts of Jasper, Nevada, and there was never anything to see; desert, and only desert. If there would be any aircraft that could spot her, it would be either agent Fowler or Marshall; with only the male human having tendency to scold. The absence was noticed by the human children.
"Hyacinthus?"
Turning around, the large femme spotted the tallest human child. He was always the voice of reason and maturity among the humans, though Hyacinthus could tell that he was just as lost as the other two were. With a smile, Hyacinthus reached out her servo to him, inviting him to take a seat next to her.
"Jack. How come you aren't with Arcee?"
Arcee wasn't happy with being a babysitter, but she was getting used to it. Hyacinthus didn't have a human to guard, though Fowler was sometimes shoved to her. Or agent Marshall. They were both entertaining individuals, but it was evident that Fowler preferred Optimus. Hyacinthus didn't mind that.
"She's playing the ball game with Bulkhead. You know, the one you all played when Wheeljack showed up."
Jack smiled, taking the offer and finding a place to sit next to her. The size difference was odd to adjust to, and Hyacinthus ended up bringing the human to her shoulder pad, near the neck cables, where he could sit comfortably while being closer to her. "Ratchet was wondering where you walked off to as well."
Hyacinthus' lips formed in a thin line. She wasn't as happy as she wished she was, not with the situation that was presented to her. And with the events that lined up on Earth, Hyacinthus had a bad feeling.
"You know, just decided to take some fresh air, as humans would say."
Hyacinthus leaned her open palm on the soil, shifting her weight to it.
"Is something on your mind?"
Jack's words rang in her audios. A lot of things were. But it's been centuries, millennia, more than that. Where to even begin, and where to end? Hyacinthus didn't intend to confide too much into the human, but he certainly approached her with intent to hear her out. Whether out of curiosity or kindness, she didn't know.
"Jack, do you have siblings?"
The question struck Jack by surprise. His eyes widened, and his lips parted open for a moment, before pressing together. He didn't expect that type of a question for sure.
"No…" He stuttered. "It has always been just me and my mom. I…I didn't know you could have siblings."
He brought hand to the back of his head, scratching it. Hyacinthus chuckled at that answer, as she brought her free digit to his stomach to give him a weak poke.
"It's rare. Our sparks…sometimes, they separate into two. And that gives life to two bodies at once. I was blessed to have one too."
The image of her twin spark had shown mentally in front of her. The times they spent together. Meeting friends together, drinking, partying, studying, arguing, fighting, hugging, crying. Everything they had ever done, they did it together. Jack shifted in his spot, assuming the femme's status to be offline.
"What happened? You seem to be fond of them."
He inquired, and that made the corners of her lips drop.
"She…joined the Decepticons."
Jack turned his head to face the brigadier in full, and Hyacinthus, in return, only let out a long-held vent. Part of her felt like she needed to address what concerned her to someone who was a third party. What did it mean to talk about this to Optimus or Ratchet? They knew everything already. But that didn't help her much.
"The last time I've seen her in person was during the war, when our battlefield was mutual. It stings my spark to know that we are on opposing sides."
"But why would she choose the Decepticons? They're evil!"
Jack asked, flabbergasted by her words. He couldn't really think of why someone would leave their family behind like that. The Autobots, he knows, present themselves, together, as a family. This twin-spark she speaks of, wouldn't that have an even deeper meaning?
"War is a little bit more complicated, Jack." There was so much more to it. The Humans are kept in the dark about it, and Hyacinthus suspected that Optimus doesn't want to teach them too much about it. Which makes sense, especially when their planet is deserted now, and they need to protect Earth, what little of it they have.
"But to answer your question." She shifted in her spot. "She had been in Kaon for a very long time. In war, it was considered a capital of the Decepticons. Megatron had a very powerful influence there, long before the war. Her ideals changed, and her stay there altered her vision. Before I knew it, she had chosen Megatron's side over Optimus'."
In reality, Hyacinthus missed her dearly. The nights they spent together working on their projects. Debating what was good or not, what they should do. Talking about their coworkers, plans, ideas. Of course, her twin-spark was prone to cause messes, just because she had the means for it. That mentality wasn't foreign to many, and it wasn't something to be proud of.
Jack looked in front of himself again. He brought his knees to his chest, wondering how to even form his questions without sounding too nosy. He wasn't the one to prod into someone's business, but he felt like he wanted to know a bit more on this topic. Jack was one of more respectful humans, and more considerate. "Did you talk to her about becoming a Decepticon?"
Hyacinthus tilted her head on the side, opposite of Jack, giving a soft hum. "Promise you won't tell other bots?" She inquired, with a small smile creeping up to the corner of her lips.
Jack's expression turned from neutral to puzzled, before mirroring her own smile. "Promise." He agreed. Hyacinthus's optics drifted off into the horizon.
Kalis, two centuries before the war
Mugshot's 'Tipsy wanderer' is one of the most popular taverns within the city. Many would come and go, and it wasn't hard to find a place to rest either, if one was to call in time. What brought the importance to the tavern is the location. Settled comfortably near the centre of the small city, the tavern was an ideal place for foreigners, especially those who come for a short trip.
Full of life, every evening was spent with tables being occupied by mechs and femmes alike. The tavern was large, with the upper two floors being used as private rooms, while the bottom floor served energon and live music. Laughs, giggles, shouts; everything was loud and surrounding each table.
At the corner of the room was set a single table, for two. A single cube of soft yellow with blue tones was placed on it, staring into the femme who was sitting boredly. Her gaze was locked on the cube, her pedes crossed and her digits drumming against the table. It's been two hours since her arrival, and she didn't like that she was still waiting. That, however, had finally come to an end.
Another femme approached the table — her figure was adorned in a strange material that wasn't native to Cybertron. Soft and organic, acting like hood and cape. It's been a couple of million years since Cybertronians discovered nearby planets that use varying organic materials to create coverings. While it was accepted, their usage varied. This covering was dark purple, with black swirls.
"If I didn't know you any better, I'd have thought you gave up, Hyacinthus."
The femme said as she leaned against her seat. Hyacinthus sat down, and placed her servos on the table, her optics examining the ones in front of her. She didn't like taverns like these, especially when she is wishing for private discussion.
"But, you always know the best, don't you, Cynortas?"
Hearing her name, Cynortas' lips curled up. They didn't often call each other with their full names, and when they did, it only referred to the seriousness of the situation. That habit did not die even now, despite the silent plea for different causes. Hyacinthus was asked for the drink rather quickly, and she took the same energon as Cynortas did. Something to ease her nerves in advance.
"Glad you know that. Which is why I have called you to come here."
Cynortas took the cube so she could take a sip, her optics remaining fixed on her sister's. The confidence clashed between their stares, with Hyacinthus' growing more concerned. She didn't like where this was going, and she had a feeling that she might just have an idea what she about to be asked.
"Before you even say no — I want you to think about it thoroughly. I want you to join the Decepticons with me."
Something in Hyacinthus' spark brought about numbness. It was a heavy weight, a mix of disappointment and denial. The femme nearly jumped from her seat, but she managed to resist the urge and just shifted to the side, snatching her own cube away, followed by a swig of it. Cynortas didn't say anything at that.
"Cynortas, I— how can you ask me that? Do you know how wrong it is to even be a Decepticon? Shouldn't this meeting be about me trying to persuade you into joining the Autobots?"
It had taken her so much effort to not raise her voice past the one she used at the moment. Cynortas remained unfazed by it, expecting the reaction to go that way. Cynortas moved her cube to the side, placing her palm against the table, her digits pressing against the table's metallic surface.
"Cynthia, calm down. Just, listen to me, okay?"
Hyacinthus' adjusted in her seat again, this time planting both servos on the table, and leaning in, to hear Cynortas better. Cynortas' look turned more stern.
"I want you to know that war doesn't need to happen. I know, Megatron promised it. But, that's because the Matrix was handed to Orion—, actually, Optimus, that's his new name."
Cynortas shook her helm, dismissing the name swap.
"When the Senate sees that we are collecting influential individuals from Iacon and other important city-states, they will end up siding with Megatron. And the Matrix can be passed to him. Then Cybertronians who weren't chosen by mere luck to be created in Iacon's aristocracy, will finally have a chance to do more with their lives. To do anything with it."
She paused for a moment, thinking of what names to list.
"Just, think about it. You're one of our greatest architects. Railway has coordinated many expeditions outside of Cybertron. Sideline, no matter how fragging clumsy it is when it comes to doing anything else but work, can easily affect many engineers. Megatron has me, my spacebridges are a marvel. We have Shockwave too, who has left a deep mark as a scientist that many try to reach."
Just thinking about each of them, had Cynortas fueled with hope.
"Sunwell. She's a minister of health. And she raised us — who else would have been a better supporter, but a femme who had been with us since day one and formed us into this?" Cynortas watched as Hyacinthus took a sip of the drink, though the mention of the last femme made her slam the cube down.
"She did not form you into this."
Hyacinthus responded harshly, as if she was offended by the statement. That made Cynortas' lips form in a thin line, while Hyacinthus took over the talking.
"What Sunwell had formed from you was a mechanical engineer, Cynortas. You were making spacecrafts, you had your teams — you even learned how to make spacebridges with finesse, making masterful works that are studied by younger ones. But look at you now. You live in Kaon, you left us to live in the slums, and for Primus' sake—"
Hyacinthus reached out with her servos for Cynortas' hands, taking them in. Her digits wrapped around them, giving them a firm grip.
"You became someone else. Don't you see that we don't even look alike anymore? We're twin-sparks, we are supposed to look the same, save for color scheme. And look at you…it's like, you're someone entirely else. And you choose him over your sister, too! Is that what Sunwell taught you?" Cynortas' optics darted between Hyacinthus and their hands, before yanking her hands out.
Hyacinthus was both right and wrong at the same time. There was truth in her words, but she was blinded by the propaganda in Iacon, and Cynortas knew it all too well. "Cynthia! Don't you see? This is exactly why there will be differences. Iacon doesn't let you see what is happening here. I have gone through a change, and you're having an existential crisis for me? Where does that make sense!?"
Cynortas' digits curled in to form a fist.
"What Sunwell taught us both is to think and use what we learn. And we do, here as you see, you're being respected and mighty. I? I have decided to explore a bit of the world outside of the shiny blue borders. I have found places that could use some help and assistance, developed them into something more, gave others a job that isn't mining raw energon and materials that are harmful!"
That made Hyacinthus fall silent. Cynortas let out a scoff, and finished her own cube of energon. She wanted the best for her sister, but at the same time, if she was oblivious to the situation, then there would be no hope of trying to convert her to the Decepticons. But, if they met on a battlefield, Cynortas couldn't tell if she'd be able to harm her twin-spark. They both fell silent.
Not too far from them was a small stage, where the local singer was playing music — the tavern's owner's sparkling, a daughter, would have her own performances. She was a young femme who was trying to build a singing career, and she started by providing live music in the tavern, singing other Cybertronian's songs. And so far, she has been a great success.
Her voice was melodic. She had grown to try and sing the songs of the Cybertron-wide star, whose songs had grown on many. Words had their pronunciation slightly extended, giving the somber and soft tone in them, followed by a ring.
"Iacon dear, be heard and stand firm… Those who do not listen to the song, shall listen to the storm."
The words struck Hyacinthus like a cold reminder. No one was oblivious to the fact that the war would erupt sooner or later. And these months, soon years, were devoted to the preparations for it. Some denied it, but the two knew very well that they shall succumb to it.
"There is…something I want to tell you. But, this place isn't right to discuss it. Let's just take a walk, and find a better place."
Hyacinthus finished her cube off, standing up in the meantime. Cynortas watched her do so, and begrudgingly did the same. She didn't want to leave the tavern, but she ended up doing so. Seeing the two get ready to leave, the waitress had reached out to them; and before Cynortas could even offer her card, Hyacinthus had handed over her own credit card to pay the bill.
The two make their way out from the tavern, transforming into their alt forms — a pair of airplanes, before flying away. They soared throughout the city, above the tall buildings, heading for a more remote spot. Thankfully, Kalis was a peaceful city for most of the time. They eventually made it to a park. A large statue stood firm, and they landed in front of it.
"Now, this is a pretty fun place to choose." Cynortas pointed out with amusement in her tone, before she looked at Hyacinthus, who lacked the positive feeling. The femme looked at the statue; it resembled a wise mech, one of the former Primes.
"Iacon and Praxus had formed an alliance."
Hyacinthus dropped the words with more weight than she would have wished they carried. That alone made Cynortas' optic widen in surprise, losing all the tease she had when they had descended from their flights.
"...What?"
Taking a moment to compose herself, Hyacinthus would turn to Cynortas. She placed her servos behind her back, feeling like a betrayer — this was sensitive information, but she couldn't just not share it with Cynortas. The favor may not be returned, but her spirit will not rest unless she knows she had warned her.
"It is…not public knowledge. And, it will not be for a while. They are operating silently, and they will be the utmost resistance in war."
Cynortas carefully listened to her words, piecing things together. Iacon held immense power, and the Senate in itself. As corrupted as they may be, they never indulged in the idea of war. At least, not until now. Praxus is Cybertron's technological and cultural center and it holds a prominent position in Cybertron's political scope; if Praxus sided with Iacon so fast…
"So…Megatron said they could wage war for their decisions. And the Senate decided that they will add more fuel to the fire? Hyacinthus, are the Autobots rooting for a potential war?"
It was difficult to digest the news. Cynortas was partially ready for the war — she was ready for the fighting. But, war is always much more than that. She didn't want to risk losing everything. Couldn't they just go through a rebellion? Is a full-on war going to be a necessity? Hyacinthus passed digits over her servo.
"Cynortas…our ideals are strong. We believe in leadership under Optimus and the Senate, and what a new Prime can bring. Iacon is ready to fight for our own ideals. They hold prosperity and—"
She was cut off with a glare.
"Only fools die for ideals, Hyacinthus," Cynortas hissed.
"Iacon brings no prosperity. Please. Think about it. Think about us. Why did we ever do anything in life? It was because of Sunwell. She used her role in politics to enroll us in prestigious universities. She is the reason either of us was noticed by anyone. She is the reason why you are now famous and successful. Don't you get it? Let me repeat, the only reason any of us did anything is Sunwell. Sunwell, Sunwell, Sunwell!"
She stomped her pede against the ground for each time she listed the name, hastily repeating it three more times, evidently angry now.
"And what does the average Cybertronian at Iacon do? If they're aristocrats — like you are now, then they promote a good life. If not, they hope they're noticed by you. There's no prosperity, there's no equality, there's nothing! And that's why I left Iacon. I will not be famous or successful because someone had my back, but because I carved my own path."
Cynortas' voice turned into a growl at the last part, feeling the immense wrath fuel her veins. She could not believe in what she had heard. Iacon was ready to fight, and Hyacinthus, she was ready to participate? While she didn't outright say it, Cynortas could tell by her posture that she meant it. This…Cynortas didn't know how much things had changed.
She didn't expect such drastic changes. But, perhaps, they were meant to happen.
"Consider it again, Cynortas. Autobots. You have me, you have Optimus, even some of your old colleagues. Please, I am begging you. Don't leave for the opposing side."
Hyacinthus' words were light and genuine, but Cynortas had already made her mind.
"And then do what? Watch you be happy with your friends and sparkmate, while I am already being judged? And to follow your blind, ridiculous, two-faced agenda? No. No, Cynthia, that is not happening."
Cynortas would turn away, bringing her digits to call for a spacebridge.
"Cyno—"
"Don't call me that."
Cynortas hissed.
"We are done here, Hyacinthus. And next time we see each other? It will be the battlefield. If war is inevitable, then I will make sure Iacon and Praxus both eat themselves for their decisions. Mark my words. Go back to the shiny, glowing Iacon. I have the place I can call home, because I earned it."
With that, Cynortas would press the communication link.
"Shadowblade to Soundwave…open the spacebridge."
A vortex swirled before them, coming into life. Hyacinthus watched it with her optics wide open. Cynortas walked in through the portal, and it closed behind her, leaving Hyacinthus alone. Her wings sunk down, feeling the pain etch onto her spark. She couldn't believe it was true, and that it was happening. It made her spark feel like it broke in two.
Thinking back about that day, Hyacinthus realized that she could have handled it better. And, that she could have been a better twin-spark too. But, it was a bit too late for that now. The sadness was evident in her; her wings were lowered down, and she hadn't shown a smile ever since she began talking. Jack noted that, but he didn't know how to feel about it. Frankly, he knew nothing about being in war either.
"That's about it. She was right, next time we saw each other, it was on the battlefield. It was very rare, however. I led soldier troops, while she was— and still is, an assassin. Works alone, handles things alone. That's how she always was."
Hyacinthus let her one pede rock back and forth while hanging from the cliff she was sitting on. She wouldn't go to the extent of her sister's crime record, for the better. But, in her sparkchamber, she could still feel that Cynortas was alive and well. Just, under a different name and badge.
"That is a lot." Jack admitted. He wouldn't be able to tell if he understood it all well enough, but one thing was for sure, war was posing a heavy toll on them all. And this was how many centuries ago? Maybe even more. Jack didn't understand exactly their aging process, but he knew for a fact it had to hurt a lot when they were witness to it for so long.
"It is — and it is unprofessional from me to lump it all on you. But, I think I needed to have someone hear it out. Optimus and Ratchet had known us two since we were young; but they are different, and they've gone through it. And I don't think anyone else wants to listen about it when it's her in question. Sadly, she decided to take a gruesome route and form an endless queue of enemies. That's the payback, I suppose."
Hyacinthus would shake her helm, before slowly getting up. She made sure to have Jack be on a safe spot at her neck cables, and headed back towards the base. "Just don't tell Miko about her, and you'll be safe." Jack joked, to which Hyacinthus responded with a soft smile. They made it back to the main room where everyone spent their time; Hyacinthus took Jack in her hand, before she placed him with the two, smaller humans.
"Hyacinthus." Ratchet's gaze moved away from the monitors for a moment, to look at the taller femme. Taking this as a call to join him, Hyacinthus made her way over. She could see that he was trying to upgrade the computers and extend the energon search. It was such miserable technology, but it was more than they had on any other planet for sure.
Offering him a reassuring smile, Ratchet decided at the last moment to spare her of a light scold, and instead, he motioned at the screen. They had a bit of time to discuss what was presented, and how they could potentially expand their search from energon sources to materials that could help in the groundbridge; only to have the call pop on the furthest left screen. Seeing Fowler's icon, Hyacinthus hoped it wasn't bad.
"Prime!" The familiar demanding voice echoed throughout the entire area, making the kids perk up right away. Hyacinthus had grown to adapt to it.
"Optimus isn't here. Did something happen?" Arcee answered; the slim, blue femme would cross her servos over her waist. The screen showed a video of Fowler flying in a helicopter, driving it on his own.
"Where is he now? I thought I made it damn clear that I do not want another loose cannon to run around! Wasn't that white Wheelie enough!? I thought you don't take planes anymore!" Fowler's enraged words embedded more concern. If he was talking about an Autobot who is uncontrolled, then it had to be someone new. Bulkhead was ready to slide a comment to defend Wheeljack's pride, but that was interrupted fast by Bumblebee's buzz.
A flier? Hyacinthus' spark filled with hope, but it diminished as soon as they received an image of the alt-mode. It was orange and red, a warplane that is foreign to them all. It bore an Autobot signal, however. Everyone piled up near the computers, looking at the picture. "Whoever it is, they have to be stopped immediately! The Pentagon is breathing behind my nec—."
Fowler was interrupted by a sound of a giggle. It was audible from both parties, and it was clearly coming from the radio at Fowler's vehicle. He quickly examined his helicopter, before looking around himself. He seemed to be alone. Then, an unknown voice would come from it, a demand woven with a silky, poison-dipped voice.
"Bring me Prime, or else your agent is also gone. What's the girly name…agent Marshall?"