Both Prime and Soundwave jumped as Thundercracker stormed into
the room.
"You left me to die! Some friend you are!"
Optimus looked utterly baffled. "What are you talking about,
'Con?"
Thundercracker shook with rage. "What's the matter, Orion?
Can't recognize your old best friend in this new body? Or just
surprised that Dion still lives?"
"Dion?" Prime whispered. "How can this be?"
Soundwave slipped out the door to allow Thundercracker a bit
of privacy, and to avoid any flying fists. He decided to stand
guard outside.
Thundercracker sneered at him. "You thought I would just
fade away and be no problem to you? Well, you've got another thought
coming, Autobot scum! Decepticons don't die that easily!"
Optimus rose from his chair slowly. "I don't understand.
Dion used to be my best friend. There's no way he would become
a trigger-happy 'Con. What sort of Decepticon trick is this?"
In spite of the anger-provoking words, Thundercracker managed
to calm down a bit. "This is no trick," he insisted.
"Why is it so hard for you to believe that I fit in with
the Decepticons?"
Optimus shook his head, sinking back down into his seat. "Because
I knew Dion. He cared about people. The only thing the Decepticons
care about is conquest."
Thunder was sobered by these words. "Is that what you truly
believe? Hasn't your mind been changed one iota by what we've
been able to accomplish with Cybertron? Our planet's reconstruction
is only the beginning!"
"I still don't see how you could be Dion. Alpha Trion said
that he was beyond repair. We were all devastated. Despite his
success with me and Alita, and the fact that he had never met
him, I could tell that he felt awful that he could do nothing
to save him. We placed his body, still on the gurney, outside
in order to make room for the casualties pouring in, those who
still might have a chance. Afterward, when things had calmed down
a bit, we returned to give him a proper sendoff, but his body
had disappeared. We feared that the scavengers from the wastelands
had carried him off for spare parts."
Thunder felt the rest of his anger drain away. "That corroborates
with what I've been told. I was discovered by the Decepticons
lying outside on a gurney. I gave every appearance of being dead,
and even the tricorders showed no sign of life. But Soundwave
could sense a spark of life within the dead husk of my body. The
'Cons brought me back to their base, where Soundwave carefully
transferred my mind into a new body, built for aerial warfare.
I was angered that I'd been turned away for help and had been
left to die by the medics, but I had always assumed that my friends
had been abandoned as well."
Once again, Prime stood up. He placed his hand on his old friend's
shoulder. "We never would have given up on you if we'd had
any hope at all that you had survived. I mourned your loss for
years, especially since I was feeling very alone at the start
of the war. Now all that can change. You don't belong here, Dion.
You deserve to be around people who care about you."
Thundercracker sighed, gently removing Prime's hand from his
shoulder. "You still don't understand, do you? The Decepticons
can be every bit as compassionate as your Autobots supposedly
are. It's true that I've never had a special love for gunning
down innocent creatures, and sometimes I have a hard time believing
in the Decepticon credo, but this is where I belong. My ties with
Dion and my previous life have been severed, and I'm not about
to look back."
Optimus looked saddened. "I'm not convinced, but I can't
force you to leave. It's your decision, and I respect that. Perhaps
one day you'll change your mind."
"I don't think that day will ever come. Farewell, old friend.
We are fated to remain on opposing sides."
"Farewell," Optimus whispered as his former best friend
exited, leaving him all alone to ponder in silence.
Chapter Seventeen
Megatron gazed out at the night sky. Cybertron had no sun to
speak of, but light from distant galaxies and nearby luminous
bodies, reflected by Cybertron's twin moons, was enough to make
a difference between night and day. 'It's so peaceful,' he thought
as he surveyed the fruits of their labor. Cybertron was thriving
again, and at their hands alone. For all their posturing, the
Autobots had never been able to save their dying world.
He listened idly to a group of Decepticons on guard duty. They
were chatting idly, mostly about the impending execution of their
enemies. Megatron smiled at their enthusiasm. He was going to
hate to break the news that their celebration was a bit premature.
With this unknown threat approaching, the Autobots might come
in handy just yet.
His gaze was drawn skyward once again, this time by a small orange
dot in the sky. Megatron was quite sure that he had never seen
such a planet over Cybertron before. He gaped as the planet moved
closer. How could such a thing be possible? Planets were not supposed
to be self-propelling!
He cried out in horror when he caught sight of the two mandible-like
projections on the orange planet, growing ever closer. "No!
It's real!"
Interrupted by the exclamation, the guards jumped to attention.
The object in the sky was coming closer all the time. The 'Cons
turned to each other, but none could make sense of it.
Megatron opened a channel throughout the entire base. "Decepticons!
We are under attack! Prepare for battle!"
Chapter Eighteen
Optimus felt a sinking feeling of dread deep within as the alarms
began to sound throughout the base. It was happening. They were
being attacked by a mysterious being from outer space, something
that was beyond anything they ever faced before. Something that
was so menacing that both leaders had been given visions foretelling
its arrival.
He sat in his chair for a moment, wondering if it would be wise
to travel unescorted through the halls of the Decepticon base,
then pushed his reservations aside at the sound of pounding feet
in the corridor. Now was a time to act.
Soundwave appeared in the doorway, beckoning to him. Optimus
jumped up and followed him without hesitation. The two plunged
into the mass of warriors racing down the hall toward the armory.
Prime saw many Autobots mixed up in the fray, and surmised that
they had been released, perhaps by using the remote controls in
the control center.
Many of the Decepticons were already well-armed, but having heard
rumors of the sheer size of the enemy, they were eager for more
firepower. The Autobots discovered many of their weapons stored
there as well, and those that couldn't find their own made do
with the ample supply available.
Prime searched fruitlessly for his weapon. His search was interrupted
by a loud grunting. Turning, he saw Rumble and Frenzy approaching,
his laser cannon balanced on their shoulders. "Slag, this
thing is bigger than Starscream's ego!" Frenzy gasped. Prime
plucked it from their grasp before they could keel over. Ravage
ran up to him, a familiar silver object in his mouth. He dropped
it on the ground, and Prime scooped it up gratefully. He fitted
his battle mask over the lower portion of his face, welcoming
its stoic comfort.
"Where did you get these from?" he asked curiously.
Rumble, who was a little better off than his brother, replied,
"Megatron sent us to get them from his quarters. He'd been
keeping them as trophies, but he figured that they'd be of use
now."
"How did you get in?" Soundwave inquired.
Frenzy looked at him. "We got the access code from Megatron,
of course."
Soundwave nodded. If they ever lived to survive this battle,
Megatron's first action would be to change the code to his quarters.
His suspicions and stringent security measures had helped him
survive many assassination attempts.
The base began to shake violently. Needing no further prompting,
they ran outside. They soon identified the source of the shaking
-- a giant orange planet hung high above them, using powerful
suction to begin its feeding.
"Primus help us!" Optimus whispered, paralyzed. "How
can we possibly fight that?"
Megatron ignored his adversary's immobility. "Attack!"
he roared. He was enraged as he saw the planet attempt to destroy
all his hard work.
The surface of the planet came alive with weaponfire. Unicron
simply laughed and shrugged it off. "Foolish insects,"
he rumbled. "Do you truly think you could destroy one such
as myself? Not even your revered Primus could destroy me for good."
Autobot and Decepticon alike gaped as the planet began to shift
its shape. Arms sprouted from its side; legs extended down; and,
most horrible of all, a head rose up, crowned by the mandibles.
"Behold my true form!" he roared. "I can transform
this body, just as your precious god designed you to do. Is this
truly his last line of defense? Pathetic."
"Optimus, snap out of it!" "Prime, what do we
do!" "Help us!" "Do something!" The desperate
cries from his troops shook him out of his daze. Despite his own
fear, his instinct to run, he felt himself raising his weapon.
None would survive this onslaught, and the only thing to be done
was to fight back, despite the hopelessness of the situation.
"Autobots, attack!" he ordered in his strongest, most
authoritative voice. "We must repel this threat, no matter
the cause!"
The battle raged on, but it was decidedly one-sided. Despite
the enormous firepower at their disposal, and the strong defenses
installed across the planet, Unicron shrugged it off like an elephant
ignoring a pesky fly. And, despite the rallying cries and hot
rush of energon, despair soon began to fall. The warriors pressed
their lips together determinedly and reloaded, but their responses
had become automatic. None of them believed that they had a snowball's
chance in hell of surviving.
Optimus aimed once again and fired, though he knew it was practically
useless. They had to keep fighting, not let up for a second. He
never saw what hit him.
Unicron's eyes lit up with a deadly light as destructive beams
flew from them, heading towards the surface. "Uunaaahh!"
Prime screamed, unable to bite back his cry in time. He couldn't
remember ever feeling so much pain at once, not even when Megatron
had beaten him in hand-to-hand combat with the combined powers
of all the Decepticons. He was blown clear off of his feet and
slammed into the side of the base, midsection smoking.
"Optimus!" Alita screamed, dropping her weapon and
racing over to him. She wanted to protect her child, but she also
knew that if they didn't win this crucial battle, there would
be nothing left, so she had grabbed the nearest weapon and joined
the fight. Now it had claimed the one that she cared about most.
He struggled to sit up, dark fluids flowing freely from his wounds.
"Don't struggle," Alita whispered, propping him against
the wall. She knew that he would lose more fuel that way, but
judging by the fact that a good portion of his midsection no longer
existed, he wouldn't last much longer anyway.
Most of his troops turned towards him in alarm. "No, k --
keep fighting!" he choked. "So much depends on it."
Reluctantly, they turned back to the fight, some despairing, others
spurred on by raw fury.
Alita held his head in her hands. He reached up with trembling
hands, but she anticipated his desire and caressed the sides of
his mask, removing it. He wanted to be himself, with no disguises
or pretenses, one last time. She wept freely, the tears splashing
down on his exposed face. She wanted to beg him to stay with her,
to hold on, but she knew that such demands would only hurt him,
for he had no way to grant them.
Optimus smiled at her sadly. "I wish I could have seen our
son. I know he'd be as good-looking as you."
Alita choked on a sob. "I love you so much!"
He reached up to caress her cheek. "Sometimes I'm scared
by how much I love you. But I've never regretted it, not for a
moment." He broke off in a coughing fit, trying to clear
his air intakes of the leaking fuel that was beginning to clog
them.
"Please...." Alita leaned closer. He was whispering
now. "Please kiss me one last time. I want to die with the
taste of your love on my lips."
Alita tried to control her shuddering caused by her grief. He
was always so poetic about his love for her. She leaned over,
and both kept their optics activated as their lip units met, pressing
together gently, then with growing passion. It was a moment that
neither wanted to end. Finally, Alita drew back as she sensed
her lover's growing weakness.
Optimus felt himself beginning to slip away. 'No, not yet!' he
thought frantically. 'There is one last thing that must be done.'
"H -- Hot Rod. Where is he?"
Alita looked confused. "I don't know. Why do you want to
see him? Never mind, I know that time is short."
"Here he is," a voice said gruffly. Megatron approached,
dragging the young Autobot by the arm. He couldn't hide his shock
at Prime's fatal wounds. "Optimus..." he began, finding
himself at a loss for words. "You've been a worthy foe. You
deserve a more dignifying end."
"I'm sure you'd rather it was at your hands," Prime
choked out, "but I'm glad that I've been able to witness
our forces fighting side by side against such a formidable foe.
It, *hrrkk*, gives me hope for our race. Farewell, my formidable
friend."
Megatron did not know how to react to that last remark, but he
accepted it. At times he had felt very close to the cursed Autobot,
simply because they had grown so used to trying to outthink each
other and analyze their thought processes and battle tactics.
He finally settled for a brief nod.
Prime's optics dimmed briefly, then surged with a feverish blue
light. "Hot Rod," he breathed.
Hot Rod knelt down by his leader's side. "What can I do
for you, Optimus? Anything you ask." He carefully averted
his gaze from the grizly wounds. Although Transformers usually
didn't lose their fuel over such things, they could feel emotionally
sick.
Optimus managed a small smile. "You might change your mind
after you've heard me out."
Hot Rod tried to shake his head in denial, but he was stopped
as Prime gripped the sides of his head, holding him still while
his gaze bored into the younger one's optics, as if trying to
see through him into the soul inside. It was very creepy, and
Hot Rod was alarmed.
At last, Prime released the boy and sank back against the wall.
Once again his optics faded, almost darkening completely, then
glowing unhealthily. "I was right. I never would have guessed
it."
"Guessed what?" Hot Rod asked curiously.
Optimus fought back the growing shadows in his mind. 'Just a
few moments!' he pleaded. "You are the chosen one,"
he whispered. Hot Rod leaned closer to hear.
It was all becoming so clear to him. Now that his life was finally
ending, the clues, the little signs fell into place. The matrix,
pulsing in his chest, also told him what must be done. "You
have the wisdom, the understanding to stop this threat. Unicron
is so much more than a planet. He is a dark god, come to destroy
us, his arch-foe's creations. Only the matrix, the essence of
Primus himself, can stop him. And only the chosen one can wield
it. Your destiny is at hand. It's up to you now."
Hot Rod couldn't believe his audios. "Wh -- what are you
saying? You want me to take the matrix and become the next leader?"
His incredulous tone revealed his sentiments. He feared that the
loss of fluids had impaired Prime's judgement.
Optimus nodded slightly. It was becoming so hard to move, to
speak. "You know -- deep inside of your soul -- that it is
what you were meant to do. Do not deny the calling."
Megatron grew impatient. "If you refuse the matrix, then
you're a fool! Do you know what I would give to gain its power?"
Then his dream hadn't been a dream at all. He had already surmised
as much, but seeing this slip of a Transformer behind him reinforced
it. The lad was really nothing much, but deep inside there was
great potential, waiting to be unleashed. He had wondered why
this one had seemed so familiar, and now it was blindingly obvious.
He was the one in his vision who had stopped the monster.
"But I don't think I can--"
"Then don't think!" Megatron snapped. "You were
the one who stopped this thing in my vision, and I have a feeling
something is trying to tell us what to do to insure that it doesn't
survive. If what Prime says is true, then you are the only hope
we have now."
Megatron suddenly found himself knocked off his feet. Another
eye beam fried the spot he was standing on a moment ago. "Starscream?!!"
he cried in astonishment.
His lieutenant lay atop him, shielding him. "You must not
die, Megatron! Too many are depending on you."
Megatron stood, towering over Starscream, who shakily got to
his feet. "What's the meaning of this? Why did you risk your
own life for my own? It's never been a secret that you'd love
to see me dead."
Starscream's gaze was deadly serious. "This is so much bigger
than the two of us. I had no choice."
The two turned back as a gently white light bathed them both.
Optimus reached inside his chest compartment and withdrew the
hallowed matrix. Megatron gaped at the pureness of the light,
and the power that it held. Starscream bowed his head in reverence.
Almost in spite of himself, Hot Rod reached out and grasped the
matrix, caressing the storage crystal. He sighed and dimmed his
optics as he felt the white light surge at the contact, calling
to him, reminding him of his destiny. He reactivated his vision
and stared at the object in his hands, the symbol of leadership
and hope, Primus' ultimate gift to his children. And it was his
to wield in their defense, for he was the chosen one.
The matrix bathed him in energy, changing his structure from the
inside out. He felt nothing but a pleasant tingling as his form
was made bigger, stronger, more mature.
Optimus smiled proudly as his young soldier held aloft the object
that he had carried for nine million years. He already knew what
to do. "Embrace your destiny... Rodimus Prime." With
those final words, his optics darkened, and his body went slack
as all signs of life departed. Alita eased the body down so it
was flat on the ground. She felt arms winding around her waist
and turned to see Crystal, who buried her face in Alita's neck
as she sobbed in despair for their unborn children. For once,
Alita felt a kinship with her in their mutual sorrow, and she
returned their embrace, their tears mingling as they expressed
their despair.
Megatron turned from the awesome sight of the Chosen One before
him, and caught sight of smoke drifting in lazy tendrils from
Starscream's wing. "You're hurt!" he exclaimed.
Starscream glanced down at his injury indifferently. "It's
nothing," he said dismissively. "I still have enough
strength to do what must be done."
"What must be done? What do you mean?" Megatron didn't
understand what role Starscream had to play in this bizarre battle.
Starscream turned to the new Autobot leader. "I am at your
service," he said humbly.
Rodimus nodded gravely. "Your help is appreciated."
While Megatron looked on, growing ever more confused by the second,
Starscream transformed into his jet mode, allowing Rodimus to
climb on. As the jet powered up and began to lift into the sky,
Megatron had a flash of understanding. "What do you think
you're doing? You'll never have enough strength to make it back!"
Starscream's response was as chilling as it was resigned. "If
we don't succeed, I won't need to make it back."