Optimus came online when he was several hundred miles away from Cybertron. He shifted and waited to be contacted. One by one, the others checked in and Optimus went down the list to make sure they had everybody. They were all present. And home was getting closer by the second. His spark pulsed quicker with excitement, and he counted down the minutes as he approached Cybertron. He made sure to angle away from cities, choosing to land a few clicks west of Iacon and knowing the others would follow suit. Then he braced himself.
He hit the atmosphere with a jolt and heat encased him as he pelted down to the surface. He stayed calm as his systems began reading hotter and hotter and that impact was imminent. He recalled in a few moments the first few times he'd traveled by space pod and the panic it had produced. But he'd done this hundreds of times now, so he simply relaxed as the ground rushed toward him, filling his sensors. At last, he hit down, skidding across the metal landscape with sparks flying from the contact as he slowed to a stop.
After waiting for a few moments, Optimus slowly transformed into his protoform then looked around. The others were landing around him, striking Cybertron with enough force that would have instantly killed their human friends. Only one human had ever experienced traveling by space pod. But he hadn't exactly been human at the time. As the others began to transform and looked around, Optimus spent a few moments wondering where Silverstreak could possibly be. Was he safe? Cybertron was so large that they might not see him for ages. He hoped to send a message soon. But how soon?
A sudden screech of jets alerted Optimus of incoming fliers, and he jerked his head up to see a trine streaking through the sky toward them. He saw them transform their weapons, and he reacted at once.
"Autobots! Seekers! Take cover!"
Instantly they scattered for any cover they could find. Bullets rained down as the fliers passed overhead, and Optimus instantly connected to the team's frequency.
"We need options!" Ratchet barked at once.
"What options?!" Kup roared back. "We've got nothing to work with!"
"Weapons status!" Prowl said.
"None available!" Ironhide snapped back. "Our forms are too basic!"
"So what?" Prowl squawked.
"As the earthlings would say, we're screwed!" Ironhide spat back.
Then there was another sound. More fliers were coming. They all peeked out to see six more fliers screaming across the sky. Optimus swore, scrambling for a plan. Then one flier broke off. It was a Seeker, but he didn't appear to have a trine. Instead, he barreled headfirst for the trine, which transformed in shock.
"Identify yourself!" the tribe leader barked.
No response came from the flier, but his hands moved and suddenly sparks erupted around the trine. They screeched and writhed then he let up and barreled past. Was he on their side? And what kind of weapon did he have that allowed him to attack like that? The other five fliers dove down toward the ground and landed in front of them. Their optics were a strange green color, and they hurried over, pressed close as they scanned the mechs in front of them.
"Optimus Prime?" the one at the front said.
He was on the taller side with sharp optics and a stern face. His paint job was mostly white with strange blue and orange markings that made little sense. Optimus stepped forward.
"I am Optimus Prime," he said. "You are?"
"Silverbolt. Come on."
"Where?" Ironhide demanded.
"We need to get moving," the taller, broad mech said. He spoke matter-of-factly and had a deep cadence. "They've congregated around here and are converging on you. The team is not close enough to counter them yet."
"Where do we need to go?" Kup demanded.
"Toward Iacon."
"Then we'll lead them away," Optimus said.
Silverbolt frowned at him then tapped his audial. "Prime? They want to go away from the city." There was a pause. "If you think that's best. We'll head southwest. Reroute the others."
Without another word, the fliers launched themselves into the air. "Come along. We'll provide cover," the tall, broad mech said.
"Autobots, move out!" Optimus ordered.
They turned and began to run. Silverbolt and his team rocketed into the sky, and the Autobots heard the revving of engines as they ran. The ground troops were almost there. The Autobots moved quickly, but they had no vehicle forms. A particularly fast car raced toward them and it drove straight for Optimus. Optimus turned to brace himself for the impact, but something flew through the air and struck the car. At once, a sonic pulse sounded out and the mech transformed and howled in pain, crumpling to the ground.
"Stand your ground!" a commanding voice called out, but nobody was visible.
Silverbolt and the fliers began to circle, and the sixth flier that had bowled through the enemy trine flew above them, signaling to him.
"Here they come!" the loud voice shouted again.
Two dozen Decepticons burst over the metal horizon and barreled toward them. Silverbolt and the fliers turned and began to shoot. But somebody else was shooting, too. There was an occasional flash of movement and the Decepticons would jerk or cry out or fall. But the reactions varied, and Wheeljack gazed with fascination.
"What are they doing?" he asked.
"What are they being hit with?" Perceptor asked.
Ironhide found a shard of metal and picked it up like a knife. The fliers wouldn't keep the Decepticons back for long, and any weapon was preferable in their state of vulnerability. He watched the streaks of movement and pinpointed it as a ranged weapon coming from one side where there was a bluff. But what kind of Cybertronian weapon was it? He knew every make and model of weaponry as far back as fifty generations, and nothing he could think of would have the variety and intensity of reactions he was seeing.
"Brace yourselves," Optimus said.
The fastest of the Decepticons raced for them, but there was a blur of movement from the city, and a pack of cars sped toward them, led by a pale blue car.
"Autobots!" a Decepticon shouted.
"Kill the unarmed!" was the command.
But the lone flier rocketed toward them and moved his hands again. A wave of electricity washed over the Decepticons, who were slowed enough so that the Autobots could reach them. Ironhide jerked his head up to stare at the flier as he passed overhead to make another circle. The pale blue car transformed as he reached them and landed on his feet, and they were startled to see a youngling. His blue optics were bright and he whistled.
"Raj? Slick them!" The blue youngling shouted gleefully, his voice fast and clipped.
Another flash of movement, and a slick substance burst out of the ground where the thing struck. The Decepticons ran straight over it as the fliers let up their gunfire, and they began to hydroplane. The blue youngling gave a whoop and transformed to dash into the slick. Unlike the Decepticons, he could actually drive despite the substance, and he began to pinball off of the cars, laughing the whole time.
By that time the rest of the group had arrived, and they all transformed to reveal more younglings. A yellow one peered around and grinned.
"Raj slicked them," he said.
"Blurr asked me to," a voice said nearby. There was still no sign of anybody there.
"He does like that game," a red youngling said.
"Blurr! Knock them out for us!" the yellow youngling shouted.
Blurr revved his engine and immediately whipped into a Decepticon, who slid out onto solid ground and transformed.
"What the frag?!" Then he turned to see the younglings. "Glitches!"
The yellow youngling grabbed something at his hip and a blade extended, smooth and perfect. Ironhide stared at it in fascination. Then the youngling lunged forward. More and more Decepticons were being knocked out of the slick by the clever blue youngling, and the others dove toward them and began to fight. It was so different from the typical way of fighting that the Decepticons were bewildered. The Autobots were puzzled, too, but they could see that the younglings were skilled to a point. The mechs could tell they were still very new to fighting, but they were surprisingly good for their ages.
"Blurr! Jump!" the invisible voice said.
Another flash of movement, and another object flew out to strike the slick. At once, fire erupted across the shimmering surface, but Blurr had already ricocheted off another Decepticon and was out of the slick. He transformed and popped to his feet then pulled out another long blade and turned to fight off the suddenly fleeing Decepticons.
It was utter chaos on the battlefield. The Autobots, who had been prepared to fight, stood in stunned shock as the younglings, though outnumbered, began to push back the enemy. They began to lose ground as the lone flier blurred overhead again and launched another electrical attack. Ironhide was particularly interested in the attack, and he stepped back to get a snapshot of the flier with his optics. He studied it, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. How? Why? Was it possible?
"Decepticons! Retreat!"
The five fliers launched themselves higher and began to trail the retreating Decepticons, not firing a shot. The single flier hovered in the air then turned his optics to the Autobots. The younglings cheered and put away their weapons. Ironhide caught a dark blue youngling's wrist.
"Let me see that, kid."
The youngling shuttered his optics then handed over the handle. Ironhide studied it then extended the blade. It was amazing and perfectly balanced. He handed the weapon back to the blue mech and turned to go over to the slick, his suspicion growing when he saw a small cylindrical shaft sticking out of the ground. He plucked it up as Optimus stood uncertainly in front of the younglings. A youngling suddenly popped into view right beside him, and he yelped.
"Hey!"
The youngling's optics flashed purple and he jumped back. "Sorry."
"Are you the Prime?" Ratchet asked.
The younglings burst out laughing.
"You think Mirage is a Prime?" the yellow youngling gasped.
"Then where is he?" Kup asked.
Every youngling pointed up into the sky, and they all looked up to see the lone flier watching them. Mirage gestured for him, and he flew down and landed gently in front of them. At once, the Autobots knew that he was a Prime. They could see the same markings of Ancient around the sides of his face that Optimus had, and though he was young, there was a similar sense of power, like the one around the older Prime.
"A flying Prime?" Kup asked in wonder. "That hasn't happened in generations!"
Ironhide suddenly pushed his way to the front and walked right up to the Prime. He held up the cylindrical shaft and arched an optic ridge. A slow, shy smile grew on the Prime's face and his optics turned a bit pink. Then Ironhide threw his head back and laughed.
"Holy frag! I can't believe it! You look great! But how did this happen?"
The Prime shrugged and looked down. Optimus was puzzled. "Do you know him?"
Ironhide laughed again. "I don't know. Do I know you, Silverstreak?"
The name sent a shockwave of silence over the watching mechs, and Optimus turned his optics to the Prime. He grinned and grasped Ironhide's forearm.
"Good to see you, Hide," said a very familiar voice. "I should have known the weapons would have given me away."
"Ha! Arrows, katanas, and electrical powers? Human weapons and your own gift? It was obvious!"
"To you maybe," the yellow youngling said. "They look like they've just been smacked in the head by a Decepticon."
Ironhide turned to see the other Autobots gazing at the Prime in astonishment. "Well, it was obvious to me. I knew you had greatness in you, Silverstreak. But I never would have guessed it would be the title of Prime!"
The Prime's optics turned pink again. Optimus gazed at him without a word, unable to comprehend that Silverstreak was a Prime. What did this mean for them? What did this mean for him? How was he supposed to feel about this? A hundred questions raced through his mind as he stared at the young face in front of him, familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time, and he didn't know what to say.