Glances into a Spark - Last Hope
Title: Glances into a Spark - Last Hope
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Optimus Prime, Megatron, the Autobots
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "We are taking a chance with this, that we will never find the Cube. Are all of you willing to risk this?"
Warnings: Religious themes.
Notes: Over here, vermilionbird mentioned something about the image that Optimus showed Mikaela and Sam, of Megatron spearing that one mech like a kebab. Just how did Optimus get that footage?
Table of Contents
o o o
Optimus Prime didn't struggle as his captors led him up a narrow staircase. He'd already tested his strength against them, but injury and exhaustion weakened him. Besides, they were underground, in a stone throat with Decepticons at the entrance, and probably more at the end. Where could he go, if he did escape? Instead, he conserved his strength, keeping as alert as he could with about half of his sensor arrays and all of his communications arrays crudely disabled. The stairs ended at a broad plateau under a sky of fire. A landscape shattered by war stretched out below them, the ground cracked and littered with the rubble of buildings and bodies. Optimus shuttered his optics briefly against the sight.
When he onlined his optics again, they settled on a lone figure, standing at the edge of the plateau with his arms stretched wide, as if inviting the blasted lands into his embrace. "Look at it," Megatron whispered as Optimus was pulled up behind him. "This was once a center for the arts, a place where painters and sculptors and musicians could meet and share their crafts. And now, it is a place of death." He looked back over his shoulder at Optimus, optics smoldering. "I wonder," he added softly. "If it would still be standing today, had you not turned your back on me."
Optimus gave Megatron a cold look. "I'm sure it would still be standing," he said "Had you not gone insane with power and declared war on me."
"I assure you, I am perfectly sane," Megatron said, turning to face his brother fully. "How is wanting the best for my people insanity?"
Optimus looked past Megatron, to where the corpses of Autobots were strung up from the remains of a tower. "This is sane?"
"This," Megatron said with a sweep of his arm. "Is solely your fault. Had you joined me in the beginning, Prime, had you stood by my side as we had always been, had you stood up to the Council and helped me carve a new path for Cybertron, instead of betraying both me and our people, none of this would have happened."
"No," Optimus countered. "It would spread outward instead of in, to countless other worlds, and Cybertron would glut itself on the spoils of a thousand peoples."
Megatron gave him a disgusted look. "You hold sympathy for the pathetically inferior creatures of other worlds, while your own suffer from a war you caused. And you call me insane?"
"I would rather die than see Cybertron turn into a world of tyrants," Optimus said firmly. "And since there are those who stand with me, I don't think 'our people' feel as betrayed by my actions as you do."
"I would grant you that wish," Megatron sneered. "Except I need the location of the AllSpark, and if I killed you, I would not be able to guarantee that what I retrieved from your memory banks is uncorrupted. So, why don't you just tell me, and make this all a lot simpler?" At the emotionless look Optimus gave him, Megatron laughed. "No? I suppose I could torture you, but you always did have an impossible will. Very well. I know how to hurt you without even laying a hand on you."
Megatron turned, looking out over the broken landscape, seeming to search for something. "Ah, there," he pointed. Optimus followed his gesture, almost unwillingly, and saw a mech straggling across the uneven ground. "One of yours," Megatron said, stooping to pick up a long, jagged spike of metal from the ground beside him. "You can send out hundreds to die in battle, but can you sentence that one mech to death, right here? Can you look at him, right now, and let him die? Once, I know, you could not. Have you grown stronger since then?" He positioned himself on the cliff edge and cocked the spike back to his shoulder to throw.
"No!"
The word escaped Optimus before he could help it, and he surged forward against the hands restraining him. He was hauled back, and Megatron smiled back at him. "No?" he asked. "Well, I'm afraid I need a little more than that. Tell me where the AllSpark is, and I'll let him live."
Optimus looked down at the injured mech, who had stumbled to a knee and was slowly pulling himself upright. "You know I won't do that," he said, his voice too quiet and tight in his audials.
"Prime, I have no idea what you will and won't do," Megatron said frankly. "But I intend to find out. The AllSpark or the mech? Pick quickly."
"Primus, forgive me," Optimus muttered, shuttering his optics again and turning his head away. But, no, he owed it to the mech, to witness his demise. He looked at Megatron, forcing his voice to remain steady. "I won't give you the AllSpark," he said.
Megatron snapped his arm forward. The spike flew, unwavering, and pierced the mech's torso. His death cry reached all the way up to them and Megatron turned, laughing and, surely, insane. "Very good, Prime!" he said, jovially. "Very good! You're not nearly as weakened by the pain of others as you were. But you're still not strong enough, no." He turned to one of the other mechs. "Lock him up," he ordered. "Then I want every Autobot prisoner we have brought here. Maybe torture won't work on our dear Prime, but I'm sure after a few dozen prisoners begging him to end their torment, he'll come around. He-"
Megatron's words were interrupted by cannon fire. The mech on Optimus' left went down, and he twisted, jamming his sword into the one on his right. The mech cried out, brilliant energon spilling over armor and fingers, then Megatron grabbed Optimus and they both went spinning, falling, over the plateau edge.
Megatron arrested his own fall, fingers and toes digging into the cliff face, but Optimus lacked the sharp claws on his limbs his brother had. He tried anyway, his fingers slipping uselessly on the rough surface, and the ground below raced up to meet him.
Strong hands caught him, an Autobot Seeker he didn't know by name swooping upwards with him in tow, engines straining with his added weight. The Seeker couldn't take him too far; he was too massive, but they went far enough, and when the Seeker set him down, he was surrounded by familiar faces. Hands tended to him, re-connecting sensors and communications - Ratchet? - as others provided cover fire against the Decepticon Seekers overhead - Ironhide, and Bluestreak, and was that Inferno? - and still others were urging him to transform and follow them out - Jazz, he recognized, who was the yellow mech? - another stone hall beneath the ground, this one Decepticon free and in the direction of home. He followed Jazz and the yellow stranger, the others closing in behind to guard the rear and, from the sounds of it, collapse the tunnel behind them to ward off pursuit.
"Ironhide," he said over the sounds of falling stone and revving engines. "You moved the AllSpark?"
"As soon as you were captured, Prime," his bodyguard replied.
"Good." Even if he had told Megatron anything, it would have been wrong. "Take me there."
o o o
Ultra Magnus stood at the doorway of the hastily made chamber where the AllSpark now rested, his arms folded and his optics on his commander. Optimus Prime knelt before the great artifact, utterly still and looking up at it with an expression that was almost serene. "How long has he been in there?" he asked quietly, loathing to break the silence and disturb the Prime.
"Two orns," Ironhide replied, sounding somewhat cross. "He didn't even let anyone repair him first - not that he needed it, the Cube itself repaired him when he went in - he didn't talk to anyone, he just went in there and, I don't know, started praying?"
"No," Ultra Magnus murmured. He had once been the Prime's assistant in matters of worship in general and the AllSpark in particular, before war made him a general instead of a priest. "I've seen him at prayer, public and private; I've seen him asking both Primus and the Cube for a blessing, I've seen him preaching. This..." he made a vague motion with one hand. "This is new. Almost like..."
"Like he's talking straight to the Cube," Ironhide finished. Ultra Magnus nodded and they fell silent again. After a few breems, Ironhide shifted on his pedes, looking up at the general. "Magnus, I don't like this," he admitted. "I don't like the way he looked after we rescued him, and I sure don't like the thought of him in there, energon deprived and doing Primus-knows-what with the Cube."
"The AllSpark takes care of its children," Ultra Magnus replied. "Those of us who worked in the temple never had need of energon, or repairs, or even upgrades. Health-wise, he will be fine. Mentally..." It was his turn to shift; uncomfortable with the topic with anyone from outside of the temple, but Ironhide was the Prime's closest friend.
"None of us could speak with the Cube," he continued finally. "Those of us that dared try and force it went mad. Only the Prime could, because of the Matrix or so we thought, and even then, not for long. Spark a few sparklings, maybe, or the traditional blessing at the turn of the vorn, but it left him shaken and quiet for a few orns." Ironhide nodded, familiar with the Prime's moods in the orns after being in contact with the Cube. "As far as I know, no one has been in the Cube's direct presence like this, for a straight stretch, as long as he has. I... I do not like it, either, but I will not disturb him. I will share the watch with you, half an orn each, until he moves. When he does, you and I will handle what happens, and we will not involve anyone else until we are sure it is necessary - or safe."
Ironhide nodded again, looking less cross and more worried now. Ultra Magnus clapped him on the shoulder firmly. "Get some rest," he ordered gently. "And leave it in the hands of Primus."
o o o
Optimus Prime didn't move the next orn or the orn after that. In all, it was eight orns later, when Ironhide was walking up to relieve Ultra Magnus, that he finally stood, fluid-smooth as if he hadn't been in the same position for ten orns. Ironhide and Ultra Magnus waited at the door, tense but unwilling to enter the chamber, as he crossed the floor towards them.
"I want all of the high command here," he said, strong and true, not like he did as an army leader, but the way he used to speak as the high priest of Primus. His optics, however, focused somewhere far beyond what was visible and Ultra Magnus wondered if he was still in communications with the Cube, even now. He seemed to thrum with power, a ringing buzz not quite audible, and nothing like anything Ultra Magnus had ever witnessed. "All physically. What I have to say cannot go out over vid-feed, no matter how secure."
"I can have them all here tomorrow, first thing," Ultra Magnus replied.
"Make it so."
They moved out of his way as he swept between them, regal and seeming to not exactly exist on the same plane of reality everyone else did. Ultra Magnus thought about reaching out and touching him, making sure he was still there, but he feared, deep down, that the Prime's strange power would burn his mind to cinders. Ironhide almost did reach out, stopping just shy of azure armor before pulling back. "Optimus?" he said instead.
The Prime turned. Calm optics took in the both of them, slowly, as if re-memorizing their features. "Yes?"
"Are you-" Ultra Magnus had never heard Ironhide stumble over his words before. "Is everything all right?"
Optimus smiled a little, and just like that, it was like he was back, sort of, no longer so much an avatar of the Cube's power than the Prime they knew so well. "It will be," he replied.
o o o
Ironhide was fairly certain the Autobot High Command had never had a full physical gathering in the entire course of the war. Someone was always on the other side of the planet, or injured to the point of forced stasis, or up to their spark plugs in Decepticons, or any one of a dozen other equally viable excuses. But he and Ultra Magnus had brooked no arguments, sending out missives and escorts and, in one case, gone out themselves and physically hauled someone back to the base.
Now, an almost-too-small cavern in the base buzzed with low conversation, theories shared and rumors circulated. Just as everyone was starting to get restless, the door opened to admit the last member of the party - Optimus Prime.
Ironhide eyed his friend carefully. The strange energy and bearing the Prime had been infused with the orn before had faded, replaced by stony determination and - maybe? - hesitance. He's doubting, Ironhide realized. He's doubting that, whatever the AllSpark told him, it's right. His spark felt like lead. If Optimus was worried over what he was about to say, it usually was because the rest of them really wouldn't like his words.
The room was deathly silent, all optics on the Prime. He looked around, marking each face turned towards his. "I thank you all," he said, moving through the crowd towards the middle of the room. "For coming on such short notice. But I may know how to end this war as we know it, and I will not risk the Decepticons catching us."
Sharp exclamations of surprise, quickly silenced. Optimus looked around again. "You all know what I am," he said, spreading his hands. "The Bearer of the Matrix, the Chosen Child of Primus, the Warden of the AllSpark. I have spoke to the AllSpark many times, asking for sparklings or a blessing. Never have I laid myself open to the AllSpark's power. 'It would be madness', I thought. 'It would break me, as it broke so many before me'. But I know now, where they went wrong." His optics caught Ultra Magnus, and he gave a slight nod. "Any before me, who sought to control the Cube, tried to force it to their will. I always asked, the way I'd ask any of you for a favor, and thus was spared losing my mind. But several orns ago, I gave myself whole to the Cube. I placed myself in its metaphorical hands, and bowed myself to its will. And it spoke to me."
Optimus always did have a flair for the dramatic. He paused just long enough for his words to sink in and for the others to start asking questions before he raised a hand for silence again. "It showed me many paths," he continued. "Many ways this war could end, and too many ended in the death of our kind. If we allow the Decepticons to gain the AllSpark, we will perish. And if we remain here, they will gain it. I did not need the AllSpark to tell me this - they grow ever bolder, ever more ruthless. They have roused us from every safe haven we have found, they have destroyed countless miles of land to dig us from our bolt-holes, and we cannot stand before them as we are now. They will flush us out, and they will take the AllSpark for their own."
"Are you saying it's hopeless?" someone blurted in disbelief.
"No," Optimus replied heavily. "I am saying that the AllSpark cannot remain on Cybertron."
The room erupted into outrage, and confusion, and fear. "We can't do that!" Wheeljack called out, louder than the rest. "Cybertron will die!"
Harsh agreement, and everyone turned angry optics back to the Prime. "Cybertron will not die," he said firmly. "The Cube does not sustain this planet, nor does it sustain us. It gave us life, but it does not keep us alive. And if it stays here, Cybertron will die, torn apart by this war." He met the angry looks evenly. "I will not let our people die," he said. "But as long as the AllSpark remains on Cybertron, we will continue to be hunted. We must turn their attentions."
"And how will that help?" Prowl asked coolly. "Even if we hide the AllSpark on another planet, they will still hunt us, until they find a mech who knows something."
"Then we shall just have to ensure none of us know where it will end up," Optimus countered.
Brief silence. "The Cardak Wormhole," Perceptor said suddenly. He looked around, apologetic. "Cybertron's orbit brings us close to it once an orn. This end of it is stable, but its other end changes every three astro seconds. If we launch the Cube into it, the only mech who will follow it is one latched onto the Cube itself."
"Oh, sure," Jazz said sarcastically. "Let's just launch it out Primus-knows where."
"If we do," Prowl said reluctantly. "The probability of the Decepticons finding it is much slimmer than the probability that they will take it from us if we keep it here." He gave Optimus a hard look. "But the probability of finding it ourselves is just as slim."
"But with the bulk of the Decepticons out searching," Optimus said. "Most of the Autobots as well, for that matter, Cybertron will get a chance to heal some of the damage our war has caused. Finding the AllSpark will not be easy. But it can be done. I understand that what I am asking of you all is difficult. But I fear it must be done, to protect our kind, and those that would suffer if the Decepticons win this war."
Another measured silence, longer than the others. "We can use the temple at Tyger Pax," Prowl said, musingly. "It's large enough to hold the AllSpark, and to build a launcher beneath it."
"A launcher wouldn't be difficult," Wheeljack piped up.
"The AllSpark has a unique signature," Blaster added. "If we find even a trace of it, we can follow it."
"Are we seriously considering this?" Jazz demanded.
"Are we?" Optimus asked, looking each mech in the optics. "Are we truly? We are taking a chance with this, that we will never find the Cube. Are all of you willing to risk this?"
"I am," Ultra Magnus said, the first words he'd spoken that orn. He walked through the group, coming to a stop before Optimus. "I cannot imagine," he said wryly. "What it is like, to bare all before the AllSpark as you did. But I trust it's will, and I trust you to interpret it correctly." He gave a low bow, the sweeping deference of a priest before the Prime.
Optimus dropped a hand to Ultra Magnus' shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze. "Any others?"
"Count me in, Prime," Ironhide called from his spot, leaning against a wall.
"Me, too," Ratchet added.
"And me."
"I'm in."
"We're slagged anyway, so, why not?"
"May as well."
"Let's do this."
Optimus arched a ridge at Jazz, who remained silent. "I won't force you," he said.
Jazz shrugged. "Slaggit, I'm in," he sighed. "I'm goin' to the Pit, anyway, may as well help all of you along, too."
"That's the spirit," Blaster said cheerfully, slinging an arm around the smaller mech's shoulders.
As the mechs around him started discussing what would have to be done, Optimus took a brief moment to shutter his optics and mouth a quick prayer. Primus, please guide us.
o o o
A note on Cybertron's religion: Take Joan of Arc. Now, imagine if she had become both President and Pope. That's the kind of role I imagine Optimus Prime holding within Cybertron's society; a leader of both a government and religious type, a person who has a closer link to God than most, and one who has no right to be leading an army but does a damned good job, anyway.
I am fascinated by religions, and the roles they play in our lives. I apologize if any of my readers are uncomfortable with the subject of religion in fanfiction about giant alien robots, but you'll have to take that up with the muse, 'cause I'm just the messenger.
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Optimus Prime, Megatron, the Autobots
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "We are taking a chance with this, that we will never find the Cube. Are all of you willing to risk this?"
Warnings: Religious themes.
Notes: Over here, vermilionbird mentioned something about the image that Optimus showed Mikaela and Sam, of Megatron spearing that one mech like a kebab. Just how did Optimus get that footage?
Table of Contents
o o o
Optimus Prime didn't struggle as his captors led him up a narrow staircase. He'd already tested his strength against them, but injury and exhaustion weakened him. Besides, they were underground, in a stone throat with Decepticons at the entrance, and probably more at the end. Where could he go, if he did escape? Instead, he conserved his strength, keeping as alert as he could with about half of his sensor arrays and all of his communications arrays crudely disabled. The stairs ended at a broad plateau under a sky of fire. A landscape shattered by war stretched out below them, the ground cracked and littered with the rubble of buildings and bodies. Optimus shuttered his optics briefly against the sight.
When he onlined his optics again, they settled on a lone figure, standing at the edge of the plateau with his arms stretched wide, as if inviting the blasted lands into his embrace. "Look at it," Megatron whispered as Optimus was pulled up behind him. "This was once a center for the arts, a place where painters and sculptors and musicians could meet and share their crafts. And now, it is a place of death." He looked back over his shoulder at Optimus, optics smoldering. "I wonder," he added softly. "If it would still be standing today, had you not turned your back on me."
Optimus gave Megatron a cold look. "I'm sure it would still be standing," he said "Had you not gone insane with power and declared war on me."
"I assure you, I am perfectly sane," Megatron said, turning to face his brother fully. "How is wanting the best for my people insanity?"
Optimus looked past Megatron, to where the corpses of Autobots were strung up from the remains of a tower. "This is sane?"
"This," Megatron said with a sweep of his arm. "Is solely your fault. Had you joined me in the beginning, Prime, had you stood by my side as we had always been, had you stood up to the Council and helped me carve a new path for Cybertron, instead of betraying both me and our people, none of this would have happened."
"No," Optimus countered. "It would spread outward instead of in, to countless other worlds, and Cybertron would glut itself on the spoils of a thousand peoples."
Megatron gave him a disgusted look. "You hold sympathy for the pathetically inferior creatures of other worlds, while your own suffer from a war you caused. And you call me insane?"
"I would rather die than see Cybertron turn into a world of tyrants," Optimus said firmly. "And since there are those who stand with me, I don't think 'our people' feel as betrayed by my actions as you do."
"I would grant you that wish," Megatron sneered. "Except I need the location of the AllSpark, and if I killed you, I would not be able to guarantee that what I retrieved from your memory banks is uncorrupted. So, why don't you just tell me, and make this all a lot simpler?" At the emotionless look Optimus gave him, Megatron laughed. "No? I suppose I could torture you, but you always did have an impossible will. Very well. I know how to hurt you without even laying a hand on you."
Megatron turned, looking out over the broken landscape, seeming to search for something. "Ah, there," he pointed. Optimus followed his gesture, almost unwillingly, and saw a mech straggling across the uneven ground. "One of yours," Megatron said, stooping to pick up a long, jagged spike of metal from the ground beside him. "You can send out hundreds to die in battle, but can you sentence that one mech to death, right here? Can you look at him, right now, and let him die? Once, I know, you could not. Have you grown stronger since then?" He positioned himself on the cliff edge and cocked the spike back to his shoulder to throw.
"No!"
The word escaped Optimus before he could help it, and he surged forward against the hands restraining him. He was hauled back, and Megatron smiled back at him. "No?" he asked. "Well, I'm afraid I need a little more than that. Tell me where the AllSpark is, and I'll let him live."
Optimus looked down at the injured mech, who had stumbled to a knee and was slowly pulling himself upright. "You know I won't do that," he said, his voice too quiet and tight in his audials.
"Prime, I have no idea what you will and won't do," Megatron said frankly. "But I intend to find out. The AllSpark or the mech? Pick quickly."
"Primus, forgive me," Optimus muttered, shuttering his optics again and turning his head away. But, no, he owed it to the mech, to witness his demise. He looked at Megatron, forcing his voice to remain steady. "I won't give you the AllSpark," he said.
Megatron snapped his arm forward. The spike flew, unwavering, and pierced the mech's torso. His death cry reached all the way up to them and Megatron turned, laughing and, surely, insane. "Very good, Prime!" he said, jovially. "Very good! You're not nearly as weakened by the pain of others as you were. But you're still not strong enough, no." He turned to one of the other mechs. "Lock him up," he ordered. "Then I want every Autobot prisoner we have brought here. Maybe torture won't work on our dear Prime, but I'm sure after a few dozen prisoners begging him to end their torment, he'll come around. He-"
Megatron's words were interrupted by cannon fire. The mech on Optimus' left went down, and he twisted, jamming his sword into the one on his right. The mech cried out, brilliant energon spilling over armor and fingers, then Megatron grabbed Optimus and they both went spinning, falling, over the plateau edge.
Megatron arrested his own fall, fingers and toes digging into the cliff face, but Optimus lacked the sharp claws on his limbs his brother had. He tried anyway, his fingers slipping uselessly on the rough surface, and the ground below raced up to meet him.
Strong hands caught him, an Autobot Seeker he didn't know by name swooping upwards with him in tow, engines straining with his added weight. The Seeker couldn't take him too far; he was too massive, but they went far enough, and when the Seeker set him down, he was surrounded by familiar faces. Hands tended to him, re-connecting sensors and communications - Ratchet? - as others provided cover fire against the Decepticon Seekers overhead - Ironhide, and Bluestreak, and was that Inferno? - and still others were urging him to transform and follow them out - Jazz, he recognized, who was the yellow mech? - another stone hall beneath the ground, this one Decepticon free and in the direction of home. He followed Jazz and the yellow stranger, the others closing in behind to guard the rear and, from the sounds of it, collapse the tunnel behind them to ward off pursuit.
"Ironhide," he said over the sounds of falling stone and revving engines. "You moved the AllSpark?"
"As soon as you were captured, Prime," his bodyguard replied.
"Good." Even if he had told Megatron anything, it would have been wrong. "Take me there."
o o o
Ultra Magnus stood at the doorway of the hastily made chamber where the AllSpark now rested, his arms folded and his optics on his commander. Optimus Prime knelt before the great artifact, utterly still and looking up at it with an expression that was almost serene. "How long has he been in there?" he asked quietly, loathing to break the silence and disturb the Prime.
"Two orns," Ironhide replied, sounding somewhat cross. "He didn't even let anyone repair him first - not that he needed it, the Cube itself repaired him when he went in - he didn't talk to anyone, he just went in there and, I don't know, started praying?"
"No," Ultra Magnus murmured. He had once been the Prime's assistant in matters of worship in general and the AllSpark in particular, before war made him a general instead of a priest. "I've seen him at prayer, public and private; I've seen him asking both Primus and the Cube for a blessing, I've seen him preaching. This..." he made a vague motion with one hand. "This is new. Almost like..."
"Like he's talking straight to the Cube," Ironhide finished. Ultra Magnus nodded and they fell silent again. After a few breems, Ironhide shifted on his pedes, looking up at the general. "Magnus, I don't like this," he admitted. "I don't like the way he looked after we rescued him, and I sure don't like the thought of him in there, energon deprived and doing Primus-knows-what with the Cube."
"The AllSpark takes care of its children," Ultra Magnus replied. "Those of us who worked in the temple never had need of energon, or repairs, or even upgrades. Health-wise, he will be fine. Mentally..." It was his turn to shift; uncomfortable with the topic with anyone from outside of the temple, but Ironhide was the Prime's closest friend.
"None of us could speak with the Cube," he continued finally. "Those of us that dared try and force it went mad. Only the Prime could, because of the Matrix or so we thought, and even then, not for long. Spark a few sparklings, maybe, or the traditional blessing at the turn of the vorn, but it left him shaken and quiet for a few orns." Ironhide nodded, familiar with the Prime's moods in the orns after being in contact with the Cube. "As far as I know, no one has been in the Cube's direct presence like this, for a straight stretch, as long as he has. I... I do not like it, either, but I will not disturb him. I will share the watch with you, half an orn each, until he moves. When he does, you and I will handle what happens, and we will not involve anyone else until we are sure it is necessary - or safe."
Ironhide nodded again, looking less cross and more worried now. Ultra Magnus clapped him on the shoulder firmly. "Get some rest," he ordered gently. "And leave it in the hands of Primus."
o o o
Optimus Prime didn't move the next orn or the orn after that. In all, it was eight orns later, when Ironhide was walking up to relieve Ultra Magnus, that he finally stood, fluid-smooth as if he hadn't been in the same position for ten orns. Ironhide and Ultra Magnus waited at the door, tense but unwilling to enter the chamber, as he crossed the floor towards them.
"I want all of the high command here," he said, strong and true, not like he did as an army leader, but the way he used to speak as the high priest of Primus. His optics, however, focused somewhere far beyond what was visible and Ultra Magnus wondered if he was still in communications with the Cube, even now. He seemed to thrum with power, a ringing buzz not quite audible, and nothing like anything Ultra Magnus had ever witnessed. "All physically. What I have to say cannot go out over vid-feed, no matter how secure."
"I can have them all here tomorrow, first thing," Ultra Magnus replied.
"Make it so."
They moved out of his way as he swept between them, regal and seeming to not exactly exist on the same plane of reality everyone else did. Ultra Magnus thought about reaching out and touching him, making sure he was still there, but he feared, deep down, that the Prime's strange power would burn his mind to cinders. Ironhide almost did reach out, stopping just shy of azure armor before pulling back. "Optimus?" he said instead.
The Prime turned. Calm optics took in the both of them, slowly, as if re-memorizing their features. "Yes?"
"Are you-" Ultra Magnus had never heard Ironhide stumble over his words before. "Is everything all right?"
Optimus smiled a little, and just like that, it was like he was back, sort of, no longer so much an avatar of the Cube's power than the Prime they knew so well. "It will be," he replied.
o o o
Ironhide was fairly certain the Autobot High Command had never had a full physical gathering in the entire course of the war. Someone was always on the other side of the planet, or injured to the point of forced stasis, or up to their spark plugs in Decepticons, or any one of a dozen other equally viable excuses. But he and Ultra Magnus had brooked no arguments, sending out missives and escorts and, in one case, gone out themselves and physically hauled someone back to the base.
Now, an almost-too-small cavern in the base buzzed with low conversation, theories shared and rumors circulated. Just as everyone was starting to get restless, the door opened to admit the last member of the party - Optimus Prime.
Ironhide eyed his friend carefully. The strange energy and bearing the Prime had been infused with the orn before had faded, replaced by stony determination and - maybe? - hesitance. He's doubting, Ironhide realized. He's doubting that, whatever the AllSpark told him, it's right. His spark felt like lead. If Optimus was worried over what he was about to say, it usually was because the rest of them really wouldn't like his words.
The room was deathly silent, all optics on the Prime. He looked around, marking each face turned towards his. "I thank you all," he said, moving through the crowd towards the middle of the room. "For coming on such short notice. But I may know how to end this war as we know it, and I will not risk the Decepticons catching us."
Sharp exclamations of surprise, quickly silenced. Optimus looked around again. "You all know what I am," he said, spreading his hands. "The Bearer of the Matrix, the Chosen Child of Primus, the Warden of the AllSpark. I have spoke to the AllSpark many times, asking for sparklings or a blessing. Never have I laid myself open to the AllSpark's power. 'It would be madness', I thought. 'It would break me, as it broke so many before me'. But I know now, where they went wrong." His optics caught Ultra Magnus, and he gave a slight nod. "Any before me, who sought to control the Cube, tried to force it to their will. I always asked, the way I'd ask any of you for a favor, and thus was spared losing my mind. But several orns ago, I gave myself whole to the Cube. I placed myself in its metaphorical hands, and bowed myself to its will. And it spoke to me."
Optimus always did have a flair for the dramatic. He paused just long enough for his words to sink in and for the others to start asking questions before he raised a hand for silence again. "It showed me many paths," he continued. "Many ways this war could end, and too many ended in the death of our kind. If we allow the Decepticons to gain the AllSpark, we will perish. And if we remain here, they will gain it. I did not need the AllSpark to tell me this - they grow ever bolder, ever more ruthless. They have roused us from every safe haven we have found, they have destroyed countless miles of land to dig us from our bolt-holes, and we cannot stand before them as we are now. They will flush us out, and they will take the AllSpark for their own."
"Are you saying it's hopeless?" someone blurted in disbelief.
"No," Optimus replied heavily. "I am saying that the AllSpark cannot remain on Cybertron."
The room erupted into outrage, and confusion, and fear. "We can't do that!" Wheeljack called out, louder than the rest. "Cybertron will die!"
Harsh agreement, and everyone turned angry optics back to the Prime. "Cybertron will not die," he said firmly. "The Cube does not sustain this planet, nor does it sustain us. It gave us life, but it does not keep us alive. And if it stays here, Cybertron will die, torn apart by this war." He met the angry looks evenly. "I will not let our people die," he said. "But as long as the AllSpark remains on Cybertron, we will continue to be hunted. We must turn their attentions."
"And how will that help?" Prowl asked coolly. "Even if we hide the AllSpark on another planet, they will still hunt us, until they find a mech who knows something."
"Then we shall just have to ensure none of us know where it will end up," Optimus countered.
Brief silence. "The Cardak Wormhole," Perceptor said suddenly. He looked around, apologetic. "Cybertron's orbit brings us close to it once an orn. This end of it is stable, but its other end changes every three astro seconds. If we launch the Cube into it, the only mech who will follow it is one latched onto the Cube itself."
"Oh, sure," Jazz said sarcastically. "Let's just launch it out Primus-knows where."
"If we do," Prowl said reluctantly. "The probability of the Decepticons finding it is much slimmer than the probability that they will take it from us if we keep it here." He gave Optimus a hard look. "But the probability of finding it ourselves is just as slim."
"But with the bulk of the Decepticons out searching," Optimus said. "Most of the Autobots as well, for that matter, Cybertron will get a chance to heal some of the damage our war has caused. Finding the AllSpark will not be easy. But it can be done. I understand that what I am asking of you all is difficult. But I fear it must be done, to protect our kind, and those that would suffer if the Decepticons win this war."
Another measured silence, longer than the others. "We can use the temple at Tyger Pax," Prowl said, musingly. "It's large enough to hold the AllSpark, and to build a launcher beneath it."
"A launcher wouldn't be difficult," Wheeljack piped up.
"The AllSpark has a unique signature," Blaster added. "If we find even a trace of it, we can follow it."
"Are we seriously considering this?" Jazz demanded.
"Are we?" Optimus asked, looking each mech in the optics. "Are we truly? We are taking a chance with this, that we will never find the Cube. Are all of you willing to risk this?"
"I am," Ultra Magnus said, the first words he'd spoken that orn. He walked through the group, coming to a stop before Optimus. "I cannot imagine," he said wryly. "What it is like, to bare all before the AllSpark as you did. But I trust it's will, and I trust you to interpret it correctly." He gave a low bow, the sweeping deference of a priest before the Prime.
Optimus dropped a hand to Ultra Magnus' shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze. "Any others?"
"Count me in, Prime," Ironhide called from his spot, leaning against a wall.
"Me, too," Ratchet added.
"And me."
"I'm in."
"We're slagged anyway, so, why not?"
"May as well."
"Let's do this."
Optimus arched a ridge at Jazz, who remained silent. "I won't force you," he said.
Jazz shrugged. "Slaggit, I'm in," he sighed. "I'm goin' to the Pit, anyway, may as well help all of you along, too."
"That's the spirit," Blaster said cheerfully, slinging an arm around the smaller mech's shoulders.
As the mechs around him started discussing what would have to be done, Optimus took a brief moment to shutter his optics and mouth a quick prayer. Primus, please guide us.
o o o
A note on Cybertron's religion: Take Joan of Arc. Now, imagine if she had become both President and Pope. That's the kind of role I imagine Optimus Prime holding within Cybertron's society; a leader of both a government and religious type, a person who has a closer link to God than most, and one who has no right to be leading an army but does a damned good job, anyway.
I am fascinated by religions, and the roles they play in our lives. I apologize if any of my readers are uncomfortable with the subject of religion in fanfiction about giant alien robots, but you'll have to take that up with the muse, 'cause I'm just the messenger.