Author's Notes: Chapter is here actually on time to make up for the last super late one! Though I will admit, it is rough around the edges, even for myself. I would take a little extra time to polish it, but I am headed out on a week road trip and am unsure if I will have reliable access to the internet. Better play it safe and post it now. So, forgive any strange grammar or spelling issues I may have missed! Comment and enjoy my wonderful people!
Date: Present day, September 29th 2021 late evening
Steven
He hadn't wanted to go out to eat, he wanted to go home. Take his new sleep medication curtesy of the military hospital's flirtatious doctor and knock himself out. Anything to get away from the insanity that was whatever had happened with Max and Oliver at the bar. Plus, he hadn't been to a restaurant since Rhea vanished.
But it wasn't just him anymore. He had Ben to think about. A responsibility brought on by an ill-advised decision to take in the injured soldier, probably due to his lack of sleep. It felt like he was dragging in a stray puppy from out of the rain. Ben said he was hungry, and he didn't have access to his money.
They ended up at the first restaurant they found, a chain buffet not far from the bar. The bright golden colors and happy family atmosphere was like a knife through Steven's frontal lobe. He should have grabbed migraine meds before he ventured out on this quest.
"It's probably from lack of sleep," Ben surmised as they stood in line to get seated. The young soldier was overfilling his cup at the soda machine with some sort of bubbly beverage, "You got sleep pills at the doctors, right? Me too, but they haven't really worked so good for me… It's actually a weird story, hey, which drink do you want?"
"Water is fine," Steven sighed with a sharpness he didn't intend to wield.
Ben scoffed but filled the second glass for him with the appropriate liquid, "Boring. But yeah, Doctor Combs gave them to me, because I have been having the crappiest time getting shut eye. Maybe a lasting side effect from the brain damage… I asked if there was like, thinking exercises I had to do to fix brain damage. For some reason he just rolled his eyes and asked how I had passed the entrance exams to get into the military. And I don't know why he was asking, he knows I don't remember anything- yeah, hi! Table for two?" Ben flipped the conversation so quickly from him to the gum chewing hostess it made Steven's pounding head spin.
"Military discount?" the young girl guessed after clocking Ben's camo jacket.
Right. Steven really was out of it. He produced his ID from his wallet without a word and handed it over. Then he and the waitress looked to Ben expectantly. Ben became sheepish for some reason and stammered as he pulled out from his pocket the new ID he had been given before leaving the hospital. Unlike Steven's picture, Ben's tiny square portrait featured a big bright smile. "I gotta admit, I feel kind of bad for using this. I mean, I don't remember it."
Steven snatched the ID from his hand and gave it over to the waitress. "Memory or not it's who you are, so use it."
She looked at the two cards, then back at the men before her. She blew a bubble with her gum, popped it with her teeth, then handed back the cards, "Thank you for your service," she said in a rather rehearsed fashion then clicked a few keys on the register to bring the total down a percentage or two.
They were instructed to sit 'wherever' and Steven was drug to a small seat near the windows. It was nighttime, so there wasn't much of a view. Their waiter was supposed to bring them plates, and the staff was taking its time getting to them. So of course, Ben had to fill the silence with chatter, "So, I've been thinking about when we met up with Oliver and Max. I mean, I know it was only an hour ago, but I have some thoughts," He was busying himself with pulling two straws from the condiment corner of the table and sticking them into their drinks. "I mean, I don't know them like you do, or at least, I don't remember knowing them. Apparently, I knew Oliver. He trained me, you were there for that conversation…." He pulled a little packet of sugar from the corner and ripped it open to dump it back into his mouth. Even chewing sugar crystals, he continued talking, "Anyway, I know we talked about them acting strange on the drive over. But those two old guys in line in front of us reminded me of them. Max and Oliver acted like they were two totally different people for a few minutes. It was seriously crazy. Max said he could only help sometimes. Why only sometimes and not always? Maybe only when this other, more intense version of himself comes through?"
So, they were having this conversation again. He tried not to be irritated. The repetitive nature of Ben's brain was probably due to the brain damage. "It is unusual behavior for them," Steven only huffed. Ben had been waiting for him to say something. "I don't know. It is not the first time this happened. It could be their age…" he wasn't totally convinced.
"Are four plates enough?" Their waitress asked once walking up with a smile. She appeared friendlier than the host, but then again Steven hadn't really looked at either of them. He nodded absent-mindedly while Ben hurried off with two plates to the buffet. Steven didn't intend to eat much more than maybe a soup anyway. "Are you planning on hiding in here forever?" she asked brightly.
Steven finally looked at her, his heart suddenly thumping, "What?"
"I said, you boys have a water and coke, right?" she clarified with a sweet smile.
His throat was too dry to respond verbally, so he only nodded. She winked and hurried back to her station to help other tables. He was hearing things again. That was all. He sipped at his water to cure the sudden dryness in his throat.
Ben's rapid return made him startle again. He had piled both plates full of food to the point it was hard to distinguish what everything was. "So, I don't know what I like, considering my blank brain, so I got a bit of everything. I'm assuming it's all good. But anyway, getting back to what Max said…" he slid his other plate in front of Steven as he rambled. Steven thought Ben was just spreading out his edible conquest across the table to get to later, but he soon realized the second plate was meant for him. "Sorry, I also didn't know what you liked, so I stuck to the same concept of just grabbing everything," he stabbed a piece of stake with his fork, "I don't think I have seen you eat anything. And I overheard the doctors saying you were losing to much weight."
Irritation replaced Steven's original discomfort from what he thought he heard the waitress say. Great, his deteriorating state was obvious. He treated the plate set before him as an assignment and just started eating without giving much thought as to what he was sticking into his mouth.
And holy hell was he hungry. He hadn't noticed until the first bite, but he was starving. It occurred to him this would be the first actual meal he had in almost two weeks. Ben was still talking, and he tried to somewhat pay attention, but he couldn't fully tune in until his own plate was empty. He didn't protest when Ben drug him back for seconds, and then dessert. Maybe taking Ben in was timely for his health…
He was still dead tired, but there was a clarity that came with a full stomach. He could participate in the conversation Ben had been carrying this whole time by himself. "I'll gain more insight into why Max is only coherent at certain times tomorrow. I know the look he gave me, he wanted to say more. If I can get him alone without Oliver to interfere, I can convince him to tell me what is going on."
Ben smiled with cake in his teeth, "I could distract Oliver! For real, I have about a million questions about myself and he seems the best person to ask so it will work out for both of us! I like this plan! I'm excited to be a part of it!"
"They're hard to separate," Steven pointed out.
Going by Ben's mischievous grin, he wasn't deterred by the challenge. "I may not know much, but I just got this feeling I am a persistent bastard. We'll work out the details on the way home. But on the way let's stop by the bar and get a drink to celebrate."
Steven staired at him in disbelief, "You already drank before dinner."
"One beer is not drinking! And you didn't have any. Come on, just add it to my tab and think of all the money I'll owe ya when they unfreeze my money!"
It wouldn't have been hard to talk Ben out of the plan. Steven was tired and finally had access to sleep medication. Plus, he had the car keys and Ben was staying at his house. Not like he had much say in where they went and when.
The reflection of the laughing couple in the booth behind theirs caught Steven's gaze. They had both stopped laughing at whatever they had been saying, and in the dark reflection of the window, he could tell they were staring at him. And for the briefest moment, their eyes were glowing red.
Steven fully turned to the couple. They weren't looking at him. They were talking about a birthday party, or something along those lines. He double checked the reflection. It was normal.
"What's up?" Ben asked, always observant at the worst time.
Steven flipped out a tip onto the table and stood in a hurry to leave, "Alright. Let's go and get a drink."
Date: February 18th 2021, mid-morning
Laserbeak
He flew through the Space Bridge portal, alone.
To say Laserbeak was annoyed with that last fact would be a gross understatement. The only thing more taxing than his forced solitude was the destination he had been shipped off to. Prion. This felt less like a mission and more like a punishment. But that was because it was.
The vortex bending space and time swirled into nothing, abandoning him on the desolate world with only his own stewing thoughts. And it was only his own thoughts, because this was yet one more cycle Master Soundwave was insistent he required Rhea's assistance in that masochistic simulation.
Laserbeak had tried so hard to convince his Master how much of a waste of time this sick frivolity was. But it was all in vain. The Autobot's nagging had finally chipped away at his Master's once unyielding resolve.
He assumed he had just failed to try hard enough, so this temporary exile was mostly his own fault. On most simulation days, he opted to go into recharge until Master Soundwave and Rhea's consciousness returned to their collective Bond. When Master Soundwave hogged Rhea in that simulation, it was how Laserbeak was coping with the loneliness. But for some reason that lacked all reason, he wasn't afforded that luxury this time. Apparently, he was 'brooding' too much when they returned. Laserbeak wouldn't have described his own irritation in those exact words, but he could consider it synonym enough. How else was he supposed to voice his disapproval of the entire humanification process without saying it? He usually did, and Master Soundwave had forbidden any further discussion regarding the matter.
Then Rhea made a suggestion. Find something to do by himself. It was a well-meaning but preposterous suggestion. Alone? For an untold amount of time? What in Primus name would he do?
She challenged him to find a friend. Somebot he could share interests with. He informed her as gently as he could (Master Soundwave was giving him a most worrying glare at this point in the conversation) he already had friends. Rhea and Master Soundwave. He had others, and they were all dead. Ravage, Frenzy and Rumble, his fellow deceased minicons. And Laserbeak was quite positive they were all Bonded in the All Spark and not abandoning each other's minds to torture themselves in a pretend world that had no impact on reality.
He had no idea why what he said was offensive, but it got him in trouble with Master Soundwave. He wasn't 'talking back' he was just…
Laserbeak vented. He didn't hold Rhea responsible for the harsh reprimand he gained from his Master. In fact, he didn't hold any of what was happening against her. This was all the Autobot two wheeler's fault, and also his Master's, for cracking under the pressure. And it was probably Jazz's fault somehow too, he just hadn't decided how yet.
Rhea was brilliant, and had a leaderly compassion Laserbeak missed feeling from Ravage. But she was also still considered in her infancy of life, going by her accumulated solar cycles alone. Yet another reason she was smart. She overcame her species' fearful tendencies and fully committed to her Cyberformation process.
His Master was old enough to know better! What if all this dabbling in that simulation activated Rhea's organic protocols she had so expertly repressed? It hadn't been the first time Laserbeak had that consideration, and it would be far from the last instance he voiced it to his Master. What would they do if she did want more regarding her doomed human life? The Autobot was right, for once. What would his Master do, continue to play pretend?
Maybe he did go too far… At least Rhea wasn't mad at him. Before his Master basically threw him out via Space Bridge, she attempted one of her human rituals even while currently Cybertronian and pressed her lip plates to the top of his helm, producing a little resounding click. 'Do me a favor? Use this time to make a new friend who's not connected to your brain.'
He would have protested, but she pulsed a gentle little wave of assurance and confidence that warmed his Spark. If he was already going, he could at least try to attempt her request, if only to assure her such a thing was impossible.
He vented again, this time louder. So, getting back to his mission/punishment.
Prion's planetary surface was bleak as ever. The atmosphere a rusty red and the ground's compounds not much brighter. In the distance was the excavated crater their collaborative team effort had managed to dig. The Prime Relic was still buried, but they had finally reached the shield. He hovered over the crater, scanning the last layer of rock made impenetrable by the Relic's shield. The readings he was receiving were immense, and Laserbeak could only imagine what lay just under that final sedimentary layer.
Decepticon and Autobot activity had slowed around the crater. The original teams of many reduced to a skeletal crew. There wasn't much to be done to dig further down. The pile of scrapped drill machines and high-powered lasers lay in a smoldering pile near the hole, and it appeared the pile was subject to grow as they continued to test that shield.
After deeming he had stalled enough, Laserbeak swooped down towards the two adjacent settlements that lined the southern side of the crater. He made sure to map all the newest building additions on the Autobot side of the Minicon settlement. He carried on over the wall constructed to separate the two factions and landed on the Decepticon side.
This was far from a stealth mission, so he was spotted by his similarly sized teammates almost immediately. The leader of this huddle of Cons arrived in a dust cloud as he transformed from his rolling form. Doomitron straightened his spinal strut and saluted with vigor. "Esteemed Minicon of Lord Soundwave! It is an honor to have you!" he shouted as he clicked his heel struts to make his stance even taller.
Laserbeak considered the introduction. It was odd to be a higher ranked bot than those around him. Historically, that was an anomaly for his build type. But at this point in his Master's reign, he should have been used to it.
He also wondered for the briefest of moments if Doomitron could be considered a friend. At the very least an associate. They were from the same team, and they certainly did not share the Bond. That last truth he was relieved for. He had a feeling sharing thoughts with this one would be exhausting.
Logging that frivolous thought away and utilizing the Decepticon communication frequency, he addressed the leader before him, 'I have been informed of another disturbance. Show me the problem,' he ordered.
Doomitron sneered at the wall. "The Autobot scum have yet again made a move to sabotage our efforts to retrieve the Relic of the Primes! My forces were thwarted in our march to the crater by a nefariously placed pit fall trap!"
'Any injured?'
"Nothing longer lasting then the blow to our collective pride!" he snarled. He zeroed in on movement over the wall. Laserbeak saw a few of the Autobot minicons peeking over, then they scurried back down their own side trailed by their knowing snickers. Annoying, but not a threat to the Treaty. So that was something at least.
"It is an outrage, and we must act to regain our honor!" Doomitron bellowed to the collective cheers of his men.
Laserbeak pondered the wall, then gave Doomitron a thoughtful gaze. No, he decided having an associate of this limited intelligence would not be beneficial to his personal happiness, or satisfy Rhea's assignment for him.
'Has reconciliation been attempted?' Laserbeak asked, though already assumed he knew the answer.
"I would rather rip out my own Spark and throw it into the deepest depths of the Pits before death took me!" Doomitron shouted. Again, his theatrics was rewarded by feral applause from his supporters. During a break in the shouting and celebratory gunfire, Doomitron added as an afterthought, "Oh, but the Autobot scum did shove over one of their larger counterparts to try and broker some sad excuse for peace. We sent him packing with some heavy ordinance!"
Laserbeak clicked in his voice box as he pondered that information. Scanning the sunbaked ground, he didn't see any remnants of spilt Energon. Then it was safe to say their 'heavy ordnance' was lighter than they thought.
'I will return momentarily,' Laserbeak reported before flying over the wall.
"Bring back their helms!" Doomitron cheered after him.
Once over the miniscule barrier, he was greeted with glares and occasional garbage tossed into the air. None of his would-be attackers had decent aim, so he wasn't hit. A quick scan found the minicon leader, along with two others. One was the Autobot Representative Bumblebee. He must have been the latest sucker sent to pacify the two warring factions. (Then again, Laserbeak was here also, so if Bumblebee was a sucker, what did that make him?)
The entity whose presence here did surprise him, was Bumblebee's human associate, Rafeal. He was utilizing Thunderblast's protective bubble to stand safely on Prion's surface without having all his vulnerable organic insides boil. An odd turn of events indeed.
They all looked up to spot Laserbeak as he landed. The Autobot Rep was clearly confused by his arrival, even glancing around to see if he could spot Soundwave. It reminded Laserbeak he was alone, and it annoyed him all over again. This Autobot was always attempting a frivolous friendship with his Master, against all bouts of reason. Why befriend a bot who you once hated? What if the war rekindled? His chosen faction would demand he destroy his friend. That seemed a wasteful use of time.
The Autobot minicon leader glared with an impressive amount of hatred as Laserbeak came to hover before them. Good, the feeling was mutual. He did not even entertain the thought of attempting a friendship with this one. They were both minicon, and that was about all they had in common.
"Laserbeak? What are you doing here?" The Autobot rep inquired with a start of surprise.
The Autobot didn't have access to the Decepticon frequency, so under normal circumstances Laserbeak would have no means of responding. But luckily for the ill prepared Autobot scout, his human ward was there, and Rafeal was holding his computation device open in his hands. He tapped into the human device, it wasn't locked so it didn't take long, and he was able to answer, 'I was sent to settle the most recent faction dispute. I was unaware Autobot representation would be present.'
"We don't need you here," Sparkplug snapped from next to Bumblebee's peds. "Compared to what your people have done, this event was less then a blip on our radar."
Of course, the Autobots responsible for this most recent event would be dismissive of their involvement. It was a common occurrence.
"What exactly happened? You have done everything but explain it," Rafeal inquired of Sparkplug with a groan.
Laserbeak still wasn't sure why the human was here, but his question did push the narrative forward. Sparkplug looked reluctant to elaborate.
"That's right! Tell us of your crimes, Autobot scum!" Doomitron's shouting carried over their short distance. They all glanced back and saw him leaning over the wall somehow. A quick scan revealed it was a precarious collection of boxes stacked to the top. The tower of boxes shifted with every frantic motion of the bot standing atop it.
"We were only defending the Artifact of the Primes from you war hungry savages!" Sparkplug snarled right back.
"Only the might-" Doomitron started to bellow. But he lunged too far forward and his precarious stack crumbled in time to cut him off. The tell-tale sound of a small chassis smashed down on the other side of the wall. Then a transformation. Doomitron rolled around the end of the wall and came spinning back down on the Autobot side before unfolding to glare in Sparkplug's faceplates, "Only the might of the Decepticons can protect and wield such a weapon! You stand no chance with your… your-" he was running out of insults, because this had been going on far too long, "weak willedness! And you are a piece of scrap!"
Bumblebee placed a whole servo between them, starting to ramble on about the Treaty, having to stay united, scrap along those lines. But at this point, Laserbeak was done. He was forced to stew in his own thoughts because of that damn simulation, he was chastised by his Master that morning, he had failed to find a friend, and now he had to hear this. There was nothing he could do to rectify the first three problems, but this, this he could remedy.
He flew off from the group, only the bubbled human seeming to notice his departure. He permanently borrowed six panels of metal wall from nearby Autobot huts and ignored the complaints from those who owned the building material. With both cables he drug the panels into a mostly empty portion of the shanty town.
"What are you doing?" the human inquired. He had rolled away from his Autobot chaperone who was now currently holding the two small bots apart with both servos.
Laserbeak angled two of the panels and aligned the edges, 'Multitasking,' he explained and activated his laser to weld the pieces together where they met. He carried on his work until the panels were shaped into a sizable metal box with a single small opening. The human was still watching him intently. In the peripheral of his vision, he considered the curious human. Hadn't it not been so long ago this human was very small? A weak, speck of a life form that was so easily plucked from Earth and used as collateral against the Autobots for the benefit of Lord Megatron. Now he was like the others. As tall as his human form would reach. He possessed a far more confident gait and was showing clear signs of the early aging process. The same aging stages Rhea's human body also suffered. That small human had become this, in only eleven Orbital Cycles? What would he look like in another eleven? What about fifty? Oddly, Laserbeak didn't want to contemplate it.
'What is your purpose here?' he asked as he tested the strength of his construction.
The human Rafeal cracked a grin, "Here watching you, or on this planet?"
'The latter.'
He shrugged, "Bee asked if I could try taking some readings of the shield surrounding the Prime Relic. Then we got caught up in all this," and he gave a vague wave of his free hand back towards the shouting minicons.
'What makes you think your human technology can evaluate an ancient Cybertronian relic?'
"Hey, crazier things have happened. Plus, human stuff has worked in the past. Tarn's ship couldn't fend off human interference because the systems didn't recognize it. And plenty of other security protocols have similar blind spots."
It was a fair observation, and he didn't feel light contemplating a rebuttal for the sole purpose of arguing the point.
"Can I ask, why you came here alone?" Rafeal said, "it's a rare sight is all I'm saying." His tone was hesitant but apparently far to curious to remain silent.
Laserbeak stopped his tinkering for a beat, then resumed his work. 'My Master was otherwise engaged.'
"Rhea too?" he guessed. "Oh, with the simulation, right? How is that going by the way? I was talking to Frankie about it and was really fascinated by the programing behind it. Like this crazy deep consciousness thing-"
Laserbeak flew back towards the minicon leaders before Rafeal could finish the thought. He didn't care to think any more of the simulation. He just wanted to complete his Prion mission. And at this rate, return to report to Rhea he had failed her appointed mission. There were no 'friends' he could locate on this desolate world.
Before either of the two brawling minicons or the Autobot representative could notice, Laserbeak was back. And the moment he was in range he ejected both cables from their housing and latched onto the squabbling bots. It ceased the fighting to say the least. But Doomitron and Sparkplug were far too caught off guard to put up much of a fight before the finer data connections in his cables slid out and latched into their neck cables. A perfect hit, right into their lower cerebral transistors that would send the main signal to their T-cog and back. A quick jolt was all it took to temporarily knock their weapons systems offline.
Laserbeak didn't give either time to recover. Still latched, he started dragging the pair, now kicking and screaming, towards his newly constructed box all while the confused Autobot stammered after them.
"Um, Laserbeak what the heck are you doing? What did you just do? I swear, wherever it is your going with this we can solve this with us sitting down and talking this out-"
'Negative,' Laserbeak huffed and came to a stop before the box. Rafeal was wise and stood out of the way, content to watch where the odd charade was headed. 'We are not going to carry on with your fake politically correct Autobot rhetoric. We are doing this my way.' Because punishment or not, this was a mission, and Laserbeak did not leave a mission without results.
He literally tossed both bots into the box and slammed the final panel in place. He welded the sides, successfully trapping them inside.
Doomitron slammed into the wall with his shoulder plating all while Sparkplug rushed around in the small space in a full panic. "Traitor! Release me!" Doomitron snarled.
'Not unless you align with these parameters,' Laserbeak said both on the Decepticon frequency and through Rafeal's still open computation device, just so they both heard him clearly. 'All of your faction differences pertaining to the Relic, your claim on this territory, and all unrelated grievances will be solved in a reasonable fashion at this moment and for the final time. You may settle these differences either with words, or Energon shed. But without weapons, the second scenario would take a good bit of time and creativity, so I suggest you take the easier rout and talk it out.'
Doomitron did not pick the second option. He turned from his brutal attack on the wall panel and tackled Sparkplug with a roar. As Laserbeak suspected, without weapons or even a big rock to bludgeon each other with, the scuffle was rather pathetic to behold.
The Autobot Representative winced as Sparkplug yelped, flailing around as Doomitron caught him in a hold and would not let go. He went to open the box to stop the fight. Laserbeak nipped that in the bud by waving a sparking cable at him until he backed down.
He waited another few pointless moments of struggle before he turned that still electrified cable to the metal box. Because he chose the material of the enclosure for a reason. Electricity danced through the box, and in consequence, the two occupants. It made quick work of breaking up the fight. Doomitron and Sparkplug were flung apart and onto the floor of the box.
Yet again, the Autobot Rep was trying to intervene, "Um, what the hell was that?!"
Wow, he was using human derogatory language, he must have been stupefied. Either way Laserbeak explained, 'Offering these two esteemed leaders a third option, only because my patience for them to broker peace amongst themselves is limited. If they fail to rectify their differences, I shock them.'
Bumblebee looked again like he was stunned. He tried to get around Laserbeak's protective grasp on the box. This time, a well-aimed laser just missing the Autobot's ped kept him away. "I feel like I have to point out that blatant intimidation and straight up torture of the opposing faction violates the Treaty in a pretty significant way!"
Laserbeak scoffed, both through his vents, and then through Rafeal's computation device, 'And I must remind you, Autobot, that Decepticon disciplinary action does include physical punishment. The fact the Autobot leader somehow arrived in the same vulnerable area as Doomitron is not my concern.'
Bumblebee was flustered, "But he, you dragged them in there- Gah!" he threw up his hands in total frustration. "First Arcee attacks Soundwave, then Jazz's shenanigans and now THIS. I feel like keeping this Treaty intact is an insurmountable task!"
Rafeal rolled closer to him to pretend to give his ped an encouraging pat. He was actually tapping the side of his protective bubble, but the meaning was implied, "Don't worry bud. As the great Cybertronian war part 2 kicks off, I'll let everyone know you did your best."
Doomitron groaned, struggling to stand with a defiant laugh, "A test… a test from my Lord Megatron on high! To fight our enemy until my death! I will see myself victorious-" he was charging Sparkplug again, so Laserbeak zapped the box again in kind. Unfortunately for the Autobot minicon, because he was jolted just the same.
'There is no test. Just the need for a quick resolution,' Laserbeak corrected matter-of-factly once the two stopped twitching.
"This is insanity…" Sparkplug groaned.
"It is my trial!" Doomitron announced. "The Autobots will tremble-"
Zap.
Doomitron vented hard, then came out chuckling as Sparkplug moaned, "My cause will crush-"
Zap.
His vents hitched, and his victorious laughter was more of a wheeze. He managed to raise a trembling fist, "Every… Autobot… will die by my hand…"
Zap zap zap.
Finally, Doomitron could only groan, much like his Autobot counterpart.
"Welp," Rafeal hummed as he gazed through the small opening into the box, "Either they are thinking, or their dead."
Sparkplug stirred. The rumors were true, these people were remarkably hardy. He managed to lull his helm to fix a weak glare on Doomitron. "Please, shut. UP."
Laserbeak could have sworn Doomitron was unconscious, but he wasn't because he frowned. "I hate you."
Bumblebee winced, but Laserbeak didn't send electricity through the box again. That hadn't been a direct threat, and also his internal electrical storage needed to recharge.
"Ug. The feeling in mutual," Sparkplug snarled.
Doomitron growled to himself, red optics opening to glare at the small box's ceiling. "This is my destiny… Besides, we landed here first, we found the Relic first!"
The statement finally motivated Sparkplug to at least turn to more fix Doomitron with a scowl, "NO you didn't you liar! How do I know you're lying? It's in your damn faction's name! It's all you do!"
"All you Autobots do to us-" he groaned with effort, "-is pull us down. If you would just surrender, I could leave this post. I can see my Lord in his resting place, yet you are keeping me here."
"The Memorial?" Sparkplug realized. Coming from the little spitfire of an Energon thirsty Con, that was a surprising reveal. It was also a vulnerable inner glimpse that was surely not something he would have volunteered willingly. The shocking motivation probably had a good deal to do with its reveal. Doomitron just wanted to behold Megatron and pay his respects. In that regard, Laserbeak felt a kinship with his fellow Minicon as he lay groaning on the floor.
Rafeal glanced up from the two to Bumblebee, "isn't this the longest they have talked without trying to kill each other?"
Bumblebee just nodded. He was no longer trying to thwart Laserbeak's efforts.
Sparkplug pushed himself up onto his servos, "I'M keeping you here? HOW?"
"If I leave, you take the Relic, and I would fail my Lord."
Sparkplug summoned enough strength to sit up, yet he was still less than pleased. "How in the Pits would I do that? Neither of us can get the Relic. No bot can! And you're not the only one missing the Memorial because of this scrap! Optimus Prime was one of my dearest friends! He never looked down on me for being a Minicon. He inspired me to be a leader."
"Your own Autobots looked down on you as well?" Doomitron hummed with mild interest, though he was still glaring at the ceiling. "Then why not be on my team?"
"Because Optimus saw what was wrong with the system, and he fixed it."
"Your Optimus would be nothing if not for Lord Megatron," Doomitron spat.
They remained in a bitter silence. Sparkplug almost looked ready to test an attack of his own, even knowing the consequences.
But then Doomitron vented a sigh, "You were at least able to befriend your leader. I never met Lord Megatron."
Sparkplug blinked, "Really? As much as you talk about him, I would have sworn he was an old drinking buddy."
Doomitron huffed a flaccid chuckle, "All I ever wanted was to prove myself to him. To be seen. He said we were equal, yet I feared that I was still invisible."
There was a chance Laserbeak had shocked them too hard and fried the reason centers of their neronets. Doomitron was being uncharacteristically sentimental.
Laserbeak caught Bumblebee activating his commlink. Sparkplug glanced at the small window. The yellow Autobot fool was giving him an encouraging smile to accompany whatever silent advice he pinged over. Sparkplug rolled his optics, "Apparently, I'm supposed to say something nice," Bumblebee clearly was trying not to be annoyed as Sparkplug pondered some generic compliment, "Um, Megatron was… Persistent?"
Logic constituted it was Doomitron's turn to say something nice in return. He lay there pondering in a long pause. A very long pause. An insultingly long pause as the situation drug on and Sparkplug was getting obviously annoyed. At last, he grunted, "The late Prime was… naive."
"You consider that nice?" Sparkplug snapped.
Doomitron managed a weak laugh. "In fact, I do."
"HOW?"
"Naivete has many meanings," he explained with a shrug.
Sparkplug continued to glare, "I disagree. Give me one good example of it being a good thing."
"Lord Megatron was older, more worldly," Doomitron said simply, "He saw the evils of our culture for what it was. He was forged in it! And yet… the Prime? He was the opposite. He was born in luxury. Given the title of a Prime by the Senate. And yet he would not stop insisting that violence did not need to be used. He was wrong, of course. Lord Megatron was right. An Energon soaked revolution was what our world needed. But the Prime did not want to admit that was the only way. He was naïve, because he saw good where there was none. There was a time when I was the same. He died with that same unwavering resolve. I envy that certainty."
Silence stretched on again. Doomitron was far gone in his own thoughts. Or he had finally succumbed to the jolts. Sparkplug on the other servo, managed to fully sit up and remain that way with only an occasional wobble, "The Treaty doesn't mean scrap to you, does it?"
"It is less than the dirt stuck in my wheels," Doomitron informed him, apparently still conscious.
"Ok. Then, let's make a new one. A new treaty. Just between us two factions here on Prion. Forget Con and Bot."
Doomitron growled as he forced himself to sit up in kind to glare at his counterpart, "Ya got rust in your audios? I just said the treaty isn't worth scrap to me! What would another one do?"
"Never said it would be an official treaty with loads of words and rules. Maybe just an understanding. An understanding that no matter what, you and I are going to be different. But at the same time, us tiny bots defied all odds and survived that whole brutal war, and yet we still think we have something to prove by fighting on after it's over. Us bickering over a Relic we can't even use… I think we are only trying to convince ourselves at this point."
Doomitron grunted, fully crossing his servos in a juvenile fashion as he rerouted his scowl at the wall.
"Megatron and Optimus stopped fighting," Sparkplug pointed out.
Doomitron vented. He closed his optics and shook his helm, "And now they are in the All Spark together, looking down on us fools, I am sure."
"Well, we wanted to impress them. And if they are looking down on us, what would they think?" Doomitron didn't answer. Sparkplug tried to stand, but he was struggling. Finally, he could only scoot a little closer. "I promise, from this cycle forward and as Optimus Prime as my witness, I will no longer send drones into your camp or sabotage your forces from getting near the Relic. Even if you continue to fling garbage and bombs over the wall. I will prove to Optimus I have grown."
Doomitron grunted again. He flopped onto his side, fully glaring away. Sparkplug shifted where he sat, choosing his next words carefully, "What do you think would impress… Your Lord Megatron?"
"Facing adversity," Doomitron said without hesitation or looking at him.
"How?"
Doomitron hissed, "You will not have to worry about anything being flung into your pathetic camp, because I will tear down that wall in moments! You, Lord Megatron and the universe will see I am unafraid. I will face my foes and watch them faceplate to faceplate!"
Sparkplug leaned forward, "And… Not attack?
Doomitron growled out an annoyed sigh. "Fighting weaklings is a coward's enterprise, I figure."
"It is remarkable this worked," Rafeal snickered up at Bumblebee who was staring with his jaw hinge hanging open. It would only be a temporary fix, but Laserbeak was pleased with this venture. He assumed the two leaders were somewhat pacified, at least enough to let them out.
But then came an event Laserbeak hadn't counted on. Doomitron grunted and pulled himself up to his peds. Bumblebee and Rafeal tensed, and Laserbeak readied his now recharged electrical storage. He wobbled over to Sparkplug, and offered a clawed hand to help him up. "I order you and your forces to stand down, at least long enough to assist in the dismantling of the wall. My men will be able to keep a closer optic on you without that barrier in the way."
Sparkplug was rightfully hesitant as he staired at that offering hand. But he reached out and took it, allowing Doomitron to pull him up and support his weight. "I hope you know this doesn't make us friends. I'm taking the high ground, but that doesn't mean I have to like you." Sparkplug informed him simply.
Doomitron seemed recovered from the shocks, because he let loose a bellowing laugh, "Finally! The fool speaks a reasonable truth!"
Laserbeak hit the weak point on the box and it fell open to free them both. Bumblebee seemed ready to run up and scoop both minicons in an embrace, but stopped short from seeing the idiotic plan through, "I am so proud of you two!"
"Bah!" Doomitron snarled at the praise and shoved Sparkplug at Bumblebee to take care of. He limped off, but not before sending Laserbeak a private comm. 'Good thinking, esteemed Laserbeak. The fool never would have surrendered to our terms if not for force. It was lucky I was the one to broker the negotiations.'
Whatever helped him believe this was the plan. 'Thank you for your exemplary endurance until the Autobot could crack. Maintain surveillance to assure they follow the rules of your agreement.'
Doomitron nodded, then hurried as fast as his still twitching chassis could back to his side, shouting for his men to start dismantling the wall.
"You really did great," Bumblebee said to Sparkplug.
The Autobot minicon leader shrugged, "It's what Optimus would do."
"And now, it's what Sparkplug would do to," Rafeal pointed out.
Sparkplug let out a bit of a flattered snicker. He fully needed Bumblebee's help to return to his camp so he could explain the new agreement and start deconstruction on the wall.
Laserbeak remained behind to watch both sides, also filing away his notes regarding the mission and logging all that was said. Interestingly, he noticed Rafeal doing something similar on his screen.
'I would like to extend my gratitude to you for not attempting to interrupt those negotiations,' Laserbeak told him. Because for some reason, the empty silence was loud in this moment.
Rafeal looked up from his computer to grin, "No big deal. Not like I could do much anyway. Even if I wasn't in a human hamster ball."
He had a fair point.
Rafeal cleared his throat. A human indication he had something of significance to say, but was struggling to find the appropriate words, "So, I get the impression talking about the simulation is sort of a sore spot. I'm sorry for bringing it up before."
Laserbeak hesitated. Now he was the one struggling to locate the correct words, 'No apologies necessary. You lacked context.' More silence. He saw Rafeal looking back at his screen, but not typing anymore. 'My knowledge of human memory recollection is limited to Rhea's abilities, so I will assume you can recall events twelve Earth years previous?'
"Um, yeah, I'm sure I could, depending on what I'm remembering," Rafeal explained.
'Then to assist you in finding the appropriate memory in your files, do you recall the time twelve Earth years previous when my Master was tasked in collecting you and your two associates to use as a bargaining chip against the Autobots in exchange for the Omega Keys?'
It didn't take more than half a klik for Rafeal to recall, and oddly enough, he grinned. "Oh yeah. When I was walking home from school with Miko and Jack, after the bots didn't pick us up, and then you came flying out of a surprise space bridge and snatched me into a capsule? Scared the crap out of me. Good times."
Laserbeak inverted his helm to insinuate a nod, though he was unsure why Rafeal was joking about the event. Perhaps Human memory lightened with time. 'Correct. Though a significant time has passed since that event, I wish to formally apologize for my actions that placed your safety at risk.'
Rafeal's smile faded, "Well, it was war… But, thanks."
Good. All was settled. Laserbeak logged his final notes and readied to send his report to his Master, if he was even available to receive it. 'A final query. You are an associate of the Autobots, but disregarding that, could we be considered associates?'
"Well, it's been more then ten years of peace and plenty of shenanigans between all of us," Rafeal said, his smile returning. "Associates would be way too formal. Why not friends?"
Laserbeak's voice box clicked. He considered the now grown human who had so easily put the past behind them in the name of keeping the peace. He could see why Rhea liked this one. He was also one of the only humans other than Rhea who had bothered to learn his sound based binary language.
'Did you not once say you wanted to have access to Autoclave and Shockwave's findings regarding the organic Spark scanner? I would be able to gain you access.'
Rafeal brightened considerably, "Wow, really? Yes, I would love to. Thanks, buddy."
Master Soundwave's assignment: Find any means necessary to create a peace between the warring minicon factions on Prion.
Rhea's assignment: Acquire a friend.
Laserbeak gave his wings a little prideful flap. Mission accomplished.
Date: February 18th 2021 afternoon
Soundwave
He stared at the unsuspecting thing placed before him, not daring to make a move towards it. The contents on the breakable dishware steamed suspiciously, because it was hot. Hot for a human, anyway. "I am unconvinced this will be pleasant," he said.
Rhea sat down in the chair next to his, where he had been placed. Because this was the next phase of this ridiculous scenario he was subjecting himself to. "You remember how much you liked water?" she said back.
"Because it made the discomfort in my throat cease," he explained, "And it was a similar enough concept to consuming Energon."
She poked him in the stomach, and he felt the tip of her finger press his skin even over his clothes. He still wasn't used to not having armor, "And this will help with this discomfort," she promised with a grin. He couldn't force himself to mirror her excitement, because this was just one of those human traits he had no context for.
Alongside every other organic, borderline disgusting activity he had to get used to in these short bursts in the simulation. Cybertronians didn't taste. He still had no idea what it was like. Rhea had explained it countless times, and the closest his Cybertronian senses could get was his olfactory sense. Smell was apparently close to taste.
He again glared at the plate. An amalgamation of organic compounds and proteins heated to a similar temperature glared back. Rhea had said he would be starting with something easy. But then she said she had been too excited to cook for him, so they were scrapping that first idea. Diving in helm first it was.
He used the eating utensil she provided to dissect the food instead of consuming it. Pieces of sponge-like substance fell off and more steam bellowed upwards to the ceiling of the perfect simulated re-creation of Rhea's home, "I can… Appreciate you are excited to share this experience with me," he grumbled.
"Literally been dying to for years," she confirmed. She had her head rested on her intertwined hands as she leaned forward, very eagerly watching him.
"Walk me through what it is, again," he asked.
She pointed with her own fork, "So the biscuits on top are made from a compound on Earth called flour, which is a plant we have grown, basically forever. It's mixed with milk, an animal by product, and butter, more animal by product, from the same animal as a matter of fact. Underneath is chicken, and that is more than just the by product, it's the actual animal. That is cooked until it's not 'raw' which means its texture is way different, and better tasting, and less likely to carry pathogens. Put it all together, you get Chicken and Biscuits. A Southern classic," she appeared so proud of herself, and he was trying so hard not to let his open disgust show through. He often forgot Rhea and her whole species were carnivorous. Much as the Predacons had to extract processed Energon by drinking it from hunted mechanimals on Cybertron.
He gave it a few more pokes. It unleashed more steam, and more of the food's smell. The aroma in the kitchen had been palpable the whole time she had been cooking, and it had activated more of the discomfort in his stomach. A human body's way of explaining it was hungry.
Rhea snorted a laugh, and he looked up from the plate at her, "I swear it won't bite back. But here. I did promise we would start out slow. Try this first," she presented something she retrieved from a bowl in the center of the table they sat at. A small red bulb with a top adorned with little green leaves. He was almost sure leaves meant it was a plant. "A strawberry. It's a fruit."
It was at least a bit simpler in design. He found himself agreeing to the compromise in the form of a curt nod. She smiled, then held it up to his lips for him. She had already walked him through this next part also, and with a somewhat Cybertronian example. Speaking of Predacons… 'Ever seen Predaking refuel?' she had asked him at the start of her explanation of how to chew food. He had said yes, picturing the gory process as Predaking swooped down on a herd of unsuspecting metal plated creatures drinking from a surface Energon well. Those fanged denta were put to good use to render the plating from his closest pray. 'Just like that, but without the screaming metal animals and Energon splattering every surface,' she had assured.
He shuttered, but used the gory mental image as a guide and opened his mouth. She hovered the fruit between his teeth, her free hand coming to gently tap the bottom of his chin to encourage his teeth to close. She continued to tap until his jaw clenched and his teeth met, severing the fruit into his mouth.
An explosion of differing input assaulted him from the simple action. Confusing, new, and disgusting. Wet, was the first thing he recognized, and he shuttered again. He probed the fruit with his tongue, and more information flooded him. His body could not stop trembling. His stomach grumbled again, seeming angry by his refusal to do anything but hold the fruit between his teeth.
Rhea opened her own mouth, then simulated the motion of chewing. Right. The next part. Ew. He used his tongue to push the fruit to the side of his mouth, and bit down again. More liquid burst into his mouth, and even more taste. How would he describe this new sense? Insanity. That was a reasonable word. But it wasn't so offensive to make him eject it from his mouth. He continued to crush it into a mush until the texture was totally changed and the taste had dimmed. Then, as he had done with water, he swallowed it.
It was impossible not to shutter again as the slimy projectile slid down his throat until he could no longer register it. It also failed to make the uncomfortable rumbling in his body stop.
"Like it?" She asked eagerly.
He blinked. "I have absolutely no idea."
She laughed and retrieved another fruit from the bowl. This one was a grape. He let her feed it to him again. How was this so different? It was fruit also, wasn't it? Similar liquid, but totally different texture and taste. Was it good? Yes… Maybe? It wasn't bad, at least if it was, he didn't register it as such. He stopped inwardly wincing every time she provided another sample from the bowl.
"Does every organic compound on Earth have a distinct taste?" he demanded after the fourth fruit splashed all over the inside of his mouth.
Rhea was trying very hard not to crack up, "You sound offended there is more than one flavor. But to answer your question, yes, everything is different."
"It seems unnecessary," he explained in defense of his original tone, "Energon has exactly one sensation, and only if it is hyper charged will it affect how you respond to it. This feels like overkill."
She shrugged, "we use it to test foods for edibility. At least that's why it exists at all. But as a species, we have gotten past taste testing mystery berries in the woods. Now we just make things taste good because it's awesome," She picked up her fork again and stabbed it into the food she had physically prepared. Scooping up a little bit of each individual substance, she brought it to her own lips and gently blew away some of the remaining steam. Then she presented it to him.
Alright, he had practiced enough. He took a bite. Like so many other things he thought he was ready for, he actually was not. Now this was insanity, putting the fruit's original textures, tastes, and over all experience to shame. But this was something she had been looking forward to, he needed to get it together. With her there to laugh at his reactions, he was making considerable progress. The grumbling alarm in his gut had stopped after a few bites. And he hadn't noticed the transition when she had given him the fork, and he started scooping the food into his own mouth. If he had hated it, he wouldn't have continued.
It was the strangest conflict of emotion and sensation he had ever experienced. He found the easiest way to handle this experiment, was to put his Cybertronian mind to the side and just remain a blank slate. Because every time he tried to lead with his previous knowledge, he was totally overwhelmed with the conflicting data.
And it was worth it when he looked up from the empty plate and saw Rhea had been watching every moment with the most eager smile.
So now what? They had covered everything a human did daily to function, or at least most of it. He hadn't attempted sleep yet, but really, how different could it be from recharge? He really needed to stop approaching these experiences with that mind set, because it was always very different.
No more stalling, he needed to address it. Over the course of the past two visits into the simulated world, a sudden and extreme series of sensations had taken him totally off guard. He didn't say anything, because almost everything else he experienced in this body was overwhelming, and for Primus sake he needed to just get used to it and stop whining to Rhea about every little thing. But this didn't feel insignificant. He had a few theories that evolved from his research. But he had no means of confirming it unless he asked. And the epicenter always surrounded Rhea.
How to describe it… Like the discomfort of hunger, but more, desperate? That didn't make sense even as he described it to himself. And his human avatar reacted much as it did when he kissed her. Temperature spikes, full body weakness, and now other, very alien reactions. This was either related to Rhea's final desire, or his human avatar was dying. His senseless anxiety regarding the topic matter hoped it was the second scenario.
Rhea got up, took the empty plate from the table, then kissed him on the cheek. She didn't see him shutter as she was already walking to put the plates in the sink. For Primus sake, just ask her.
The outside chime came to his rescue. Guilt crashed into him hard for the thought as Rhea sighed in disappointment. But like always she was quick to hide her own emotions with a smile and a shrug. "Time to see who is demanding the Lord's attention now. Plus, we should probably go save Laserbeak," she said playfully.
He couldn't maintain their gaze for long. She would never admit it, but he knew he was taking far too long to acclimate to this form. And every time he failed to adapt to the strange alien tendencies, he was making Rhea suffer.
He made up his mind in that moment as they logged out. No more pointless stalling. Next time, he would tell her.