Darkest Hour

by Phantom

Chapter Ten

Optimus stared at the red and blue female before him, unsure how to begin. He was perplexed by Megatron's violent reaction towards her, and wanted an explanation. His demand to have the fembot in his cell for interrogation was met by a suggestive leer from Megatron and a sly comment that mentioned a pair of maximum-security restraints, but at least his wishes were granted. Megatron may have seen it as a last request, and feeling in a good mood about his enemies' impending deaths, granted it. Whatever the cause, Prime was relieved to avoid a fight over it.

"So, tell me," he began cautiously, "what has gotten Megatron so upset?"

Crystal turned her head away, grimacing. "We've... had relations."

"Relations?" Prime queried, not understanding at first. Then his optics widened in realization. "You can't mean--"

"Ask her!" Crystal snapped, gesturing at the very-much-pregnant Alita One. "It was her orders!"

"Orders?" Prime was even more confused.

Crystal rubbed her folded arms nervously, trying to stop their trembling. Why did this have to be so hard? "I'm an undercover operative. At Alita's orders, I infiltrate the Decepticons' base when necessary, posing as a neutral, and gather the necessary information."

Prime's frown was obvious on his exposed face. "I fail to see why Megatron took your allegiance so personally."

Crystal clenched her fists in frustration. By Primus, how could he not see it? Why did she have to spell it out for him? Could he be so naive as to not know what her true function was, or was he just unwilling to accept it. "In order to gather the information, I had to forge rather -- personal -- relationships with several Decepticon officers. Megatron was one of them."

Prime felt the pieces click together, and the solution was not at all what he wanted to see. He tried to push the thought away, but it hovered in his mind, refusing to budge. "You can't mean to say that -- Alita couldn't have possibly--"

"What?" she choked. "That Alita ordered me to prostitute my body for the Autobot cause? I wish I were making it up, but by Primus, it's true. Every moment of each mission was spent fearing for my life, and what the 'Cons would do to me if they ever found out who I really was. Now it's all over, and may Primus help me, for what Megatron has in store for me must be a fate worse than death."

At this point, her composure disintegrated, and Crystal burst into tears, hiding her face in her hands as she sobbed. To break down in front of both commanders was absolutely humiliating, but right now she was too upset to care.

Optimus gaped at the sobbing figure before him. He didn't want to believe her words, for that would mean that Alita had gone to far more desperate measures than he would have ever believed. And yet, he could not deny her suffering and shame, or Megatron's rage. He looked pleadingly at Alita. "Please tell me it isn't true."

Her bowed head told him all he needed to know. "I had no choice," she murmured. "I needed someone to gather intelligence from the inside. The information was vital to our survival. Her assignments were degrading to all females, and I hated myself every time I sent her out on a mission, but it was all in the name of the Autobot cause, something we would all die to defend."

Optimus shuddered at her words. He knew all too well the price demanded by this war, but each sacrifice sickened him. He was appalled at the lengths Alita had gone to in order to gather her information. Their cause was a noble one that had to survive at all costs, but he was horrified that it had required one of his own to sell her virtue and her self-esteem. Right now, all he could do was offer what meager comfort he could. Reaching out tentatively, he wrapped his arms around Crystal in a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispered to her, but knowing that his apology could not undo the terrible damage that had already been done.

Alita glared daggers at her lover. While his embrace was only one of comfort, she was all too aware of Crystal's enormous crush on the Autobot leader. She wanted to lunge at them and tear her from his arms, but she held herself in check by clenching her fists at her sides. Optimus was upset enough with her, and causing a scene would help no one. If he had wanted to cheat on her, he would have done so already. Besides, she was the one carrying his child, and not that sniveling excuse for an Autobot. She and Crystal had never gotten along well. She was not quite sure why, since all of the females shared a sisterly bound, borne out of millions of years of living in close quarters and depending on each other for their very survival, isolated from male assistance for so long. There was something about Crystal that Alita instinctively despised -- perhaps she saw the other as a potential rival for Prime's affections, or her unofficial assignment as a prostitute made Alita feel simultaneously disgusted and ashamed. Seeing her rival in the arms of her mate was almost too much for her to bear.

Hot Rod spoke up hesitantly, knowing that the whole situation was probably none of his business, but wishing to resolve it anyway. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a laser. "Hey, guys, let's not fight, okay? I mean, if this is our last night alive, I don't want to spend it this way." He shrank back as Prime gazed at him thoughtfully, certain that he had said the wrong thing.

"You are quite right, Hot Rod," Prime agreed, studying the young robot. While the lad could be brash and hot-headed, he also had an instinctive understanding of individuals and hidden issues beneath the surface. Where had one so young gotten such a mature perspective? Such questions would have to be put aside. There were more important matters at hand.

Alita leaned her head against Prime's chest as he embraced her. He was still shaken and upset by the measures she had taken, but he wasn't about to let that mar their last night together. Alita took his hand and placed it on her belly, covering it with hers. There was movement, so faint at first that Prime could barely detect it, then it came again, stronger. The baby was kicking.

Prime smiled at her tenderly. While he was deeply saddened that he would never get to hold his child in his arms, at least he could have this much. Bearing offspring was more than he had ever imagined could be possible. Alita returned the smile affectionately. Their optics locked, holding a silent conversation. Prime wished he could make love to her one last time, to experience their merging on a physical as well as spiritual level, but that was not to be. However, he was not about to let this night pass without some demonstration of affection. Ignoring all the prying optics around them, he gave in to his desires and kissed Alita passionately in one of his extremely rare public displays of affection.

Seated in the corner, Crystal turned away from the unbearably romantic sight, choking back a sob. 'Why can't I ever find somebody to love me like that?' she asked herself. 'I know that I'm no good anymore, now that I've been degraded so. Still, I can't help dreaming.' And, by Primus, it hurt so much to see the only male that she had ever had feelings for embracing her commander, who had never given her anything but pain.

She felt a light touch on her shoulder and turned to see the young robot beside her. He said not a word, but his compassionate gaze spoke volumes. For the first time in so long, she felt that someone truly understood her. Despite her instinctive fear of males, induced by her questionable occupation, she felt that she could trust this one. He took her hands and squeezed them in understanding. She allowed his reassurance to relax her as her optic covers slid shut and she entered recharge mode. After all of the countless years of fear and self-loathing, it was almost a relief to be found out. Tomorrow it would be all over.

Chapter Eleven

// I find myself drifting through space aimlessly. I struggle to remember how I got here, but without success. Every part of me hurts. Looking down, I can see why. My armor is battered and scarred, most likely beyond repair. I don't have to consult my internal diagnostics to know the truth. I am dying.

What has happened to me? How could I have been damaged so badly without a single recollection of what happened? I search my memory banks frantically, but come up with nothing. Why is it so hard to remember? I feel myself weakening, slipping ever closer to the void of eternal nothingness.

But perhaps the void will remain unfilled, perhaps I will cheat death once again. I realize that I am not drifting as aimlessly as I thought. Something is pulling me through space.

It is not long before I discover the source. It appears to be a planet, but such a thing cannot be possible, for I know of no such planets with protruding pinchers or a gaping maw in the middle.

It speaks to me, with a rumble that hints at its incredible age and unfathomable power. "Welcome, Megatron."

I feel myself being blown backwards by the sheer force of its voice alone. Panicking, preferring to stay with this bizarre planet rather than drift alone, I dig my hands into the surface of one of its pinchers, trying to slow my momentum. I let go and float towards it again.

"I have summoned you here for a purpose," it continues.

I am enraged. "Nobody summons Megatron!"

Its next words hold a measure of amusement. "Then it pleases me to be the first." It reaches out with some kind of force field, enveloping me, almost caressing me. "You belong to me now."

This is intolerable! Even though I am surely dying, I will not accept such insulting treatment. "I belong to nobody!" I roar with the last of my strength.

The monstrosity laughs. It knows that I am not strong enough to resist. "That is no longer true." The field around me beings to stir, surrounding me with a bright, cold light. My mind screams in rebellion as I feel it changing me from the inside out on a molecular level. I feel my will dwindle to almost nothing, submerged by this abomination. While I still retain a small measure of autonomic thinking, my will has been bent to serve my new master. I yearn to destroy it and usurp its power, yet I fear that my mind will be rent asunder as well.

I see it turn and heads towards Cybertron, the planet that has been my goal in the battle all these years. I watch helplessly as it consumes my home, powerless to help. At last it is destroyed from the inside by a pure, white light. I know instinctively that it is from the matrix, and I have a glimpse of the wielder. As my master dies, I feel my sanity slipping away.

A voice whispers deep within. I listen with a mixture of fear and awe, knowing that it comes not from my own head, yet is not caused by the encroaching madness. The voice is gentle, yet contains an undercurrent of strength and wisdom. "The only way to prevent this horror, my child, is to assure that it never comes to pass. You know what to do. //

Megatron sat bolt upright in his recharge bed, crying out. He trembled slightly as the last vestiges of his dream are driven from his conscious mind as he readjusted to the waking world.

"What's happening?" a voice murmured foggily.

Megatron scowled at the female lying next to him. She had been such an easy conquest; he was quite disappointed. He knew that she was only spending her nights with him in the hopes of advancement in the army, and he respected that. Her drive and dedication were to be admired, but he had already lost interest in pursuing a relationship with her.

"Leave me," he growled.

She gaped at him for a moment, then shut her mouth determinedly. He barely watched her departure as she stalked out of the room, the door whooshing closed behind her and automatically locking itself. She was nothing to him, merely a pleasant way to pass the time. For the moment, he couldn't even remember her name.

His thoughts were occupied by the dream he'd had. It was so realistic, so creepy. He took comfort from the familiar surroundings, using them to banish the uneasy feelings. It was a dream, simply random images called up by his neuroprocessor, nothing more. Then why did he feel so uncertain, as if there was a deeper meaning?

It was as if he'd had a vision. He'd certainly never seen anything like the monster in his dream, and he had no idea where his subconscious would have picked up such a thing. And the warning at the end -- it rang in his head loud and clear. It was as if the words were still being spoken.

Bah! Such mystical garbage was for goody-goodies like the Autobots. He was not about to waste precious time on such drivel. The Autobots were going to die, and that was that. They had outlived their usefulness.

He pushed aside any lingering doubts, and the voice in his head, which was sounding less and less like his own all the time.

Chapter Twelve

Luckily, Prime awoke with a stifled gasp instead of a panicked cry. Otherwise he might have disturbed the other Autobots, who were experiencing a few moments of restful recharging before they met their end. Thank Primus for small favors.

However, he wasn't as quiet as he'd hoped, he realized as those in his cell began to stir. "Wha's wrong?" Alita mumbled, trying to bring her systems online.

Optimus folded his hands together to keep them steady. "A nightmare," he confessed. "No," he said slowly as it began to come back to him, "it was something more. A vision of sorts. A warning." He barely suppressed a shudder.

"About what?" Crystal asked.

Optimus jumped slightly. He had almost forgotten that he wasn't alone with Alita. "I'm not quite sure. It's fading away so rapidly." He frowned, concentrating hard. "I saw a planet of sorts, but it was much more. I'm not sure what it represents, but I got the feeling that it was malevolent. It had a name." He struggled to articulate what he could barely comprehend himself.

Hot Rod spoke the missing word. "Unicron."

end of Chapters 10-12

go to Chapters 13-15
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