Famiy Ties

by Phantom


Chapter Nine

Optimus walked the halls back to his quarters at twenty-one-hundred hours. The lights of Metroplex were dimmed due to the late hour, keeping with the Earth's rotation. Skeleton security crews saluted him, and he saluted back in reflex, barely registering them. Once again he had pulled a ridiculously long shift- sixteen hours at a stretch. And he'd have to return again at seven-hundred hours. None of the matters he was dealing with were actually that pressing. The heavy workload helped distract him, keep him from worrying about other issues in his life. He had decided to avoid Hot Rod for a few days and give both of them a chance to cool down. Nothing would be gained in a shouting match. One thing was for sure – Hot Rod had definitely inherited his father's stubborn streak.

And there were other matters that plaged at him. Some dark, sinister. Memories of being probed and violated by Quintesson tentacles, programming him to serve as a decoy to lead his beloved Autobots to their doom. Some other memories were far more pleasant, so much so that it hurt to think of them. The merry laugh of a femme that sounded like tinkling bells, a smile that lit up his whole world, a mere touch that could lift any burden. And there was more – a bright yet soft light, a light that had cradled him and made him feel at ease – a feeling that he would never have again. It seemed that the only way to keep the images at bay was to dive headlong into the ever-mounting stack of paperwork. But even that was getting to him of late. There were so many reports that needed to be read, proposals that needed to be approved, he could barely keep track of it all. No sooner would he finish with one stack than another two would come his way. When would it all end? Couldn't he even get a night's peaceful recharge without thinking of the mountains of work that awaited him? For the love of Primus, he was only one person.

He shook his head, trying to force such thoughts out of his mind. If he started worrying, he'd be up all night and exhaust himself, just in time to get up for work again. A few posted sentries noticed Prime's mannerisms and dismissed them with a mental shrug. Optimus had been doing such things ever since his revival. He was a 'bot with a lot on his mind, and if he occasionally made a random gesture or muttered to himself, it was to be expected.

Prime passed by Metroplex's central control center and stopped short. Beneath the door, which was painted with the bold words “ACCESS RESTRICTED. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY” there shone a light. Nobody should be in there at this time of night, unless there had been a malfunction, and in that case he or Magnus should have been informed. His ever-vigilant sense of danger tugged at him. He'd better check this out.

Quietly he slid the door open, slipping in and letting it whoosh closed behind him. He stole silently into the room, moving very quietly for such a large mechanism. A quiet scuffling reached his audials, and he stiffened slightly, all of his senses on alert. There *was* somebody here after all!

The Autobot leader reached a massive block of electronic circuitry and metal that stretched halfway to the ceiling. He peered around it and froze in shock. On the other side stood Hot Rod kissing a female he had never seen before. It wasn't even the same femme from the club! Prime's blue hand curled into a mighty fist. When would that foolhardy boy ever learn to follow the rules? This was a highly restricted area – he had no business here, and even less bringing in some femmebot! All of Roddy's earlier behavior could be brushed off as acting out, but this – this was overstepping the bounds of his rank and position!

“Hold it right there!” Optimus Prime bellowed, stepping out from behind cover. “Both of you are in very big trouble! You have five astroseconds to explain yourself before I have the both of you thrown into the brig!” It was a long shot, but he wanted to impress on Hot Rod the gravity of the situation, and he was prepared to back up his threat with action if necessary.

“Aw, Optimus!” Hot Rod groaned. “We weren't hurting anything in here, honest. Forest here just wanted to get a look at Metroplex's central control center. She thinks it's real neat! You don't think we'd be stupid enough to touch anything, do you?”

“You are capable of anything, Roddy,” Optimus said flatly, all the while studying the mysterious femme by the boy's side. There was something familiar about that femme, so eerily familiar that it tugged at his memory circuits. Unbidden, a flash of memory came to him – a dark cell, his energon dripping down to pool on the floor, a sadistic smile as a lithe figure bent over him, instruments of torture at the ready…. Almost before the flash had passed, he jumped forward and grabbed the female in a crushing grip. “Merciless!” he yelled. Activating his comm. link, he called out, “Security to level 24, section alpha, code red! Security breach!”

“Optimus!” Hot Rod cried, gaping at the scene. He was too taken aback to act. “Let her go! If you're going to yell at anyone, yell at me! I was the one that let her in. The computer still accepted my old access code. I swear she had nothing to do with this!”

Shaking with anger and remembered pain, Optimus reached for the Autobot brand on the female's green chassis and ripped it away. Beneath stood a violet purple Decepticon symbol, surrounded by a midnight-black base coat, the femme's true paint job. “I knew it!” he growled. “You were the one that tortured me for information! I'd never forget that face.”

The femme's face morphed from sweet innocence to savage glee, mirroring the grin that she had worn when she had tortured the mighty Autobot leader. “The one and only, fool! It was so pathetically easy to get past your defenses and sucker this dork into bringing me in here. You're all such weaklings!”

The night security crew ran in, taking in the situation in a heartbeat. They briskly cuffed the violently struggling and cursing femme and led her away. Optimus promised them that he'd have a full report on Kup's desk in the morning. “I'll be free soon enough!” the femme ranted as she was dragged away. “One day you'll be in my clutches again, Optimus Prime, and what fun we'll have!” Maniacal laughter trailed behind her as she disappeared from sight.

“Whoa,” Hot Rod muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. That had been majorly heavy! He dated a lot, and he had never even considered that one of the females could be a Decepticon spy. “I just can't believe it! She seemed so sweet to me. I thought she just wanted to check out Metroplex's inner workings to see how he worked, you know? I guess I still have a lot to learn.”

“Yes, you do,” Optimus said crossly. “Roddy, why do you always pull these stunts that you know will land you in trouble? Are you doing it on purpose, or are you just not thinking? We had a major security breach because of your foolishness. Who knows what information Merciless has already gathered and transmitted? We have to be vigilant at all times.”

“Look, I'm sorry, alright? I'm mortal. I make mistakes. You can't tell me you've never made a mistake in your life!” Hot Rod was quickly becoming aggravated. He knew that he had really messed up, but he felt bad about it and wanted to make amends. Wasn't that good enough?

“That's just not good enough. You've done this too often to be let off the hook with a warning. I'm placing you on suspended duty for the next week. Perhaps some time cleaning all of the weapons in the armory will teach you some discipline.”

“I don't *need* discipline! What I need is for you to get off my back!” the adolescent growled, fists on hips. He had more than enough from his high-and-mighty father, and he wasn't going to take it anymore!

Optimus could not stop his own hands from curling into fists. “Ever since you turned back into Hot Rod, you've been worse than before, tearing about and wreaking havoc everywhere you go. It's time somebody straightened you out.”

“Dammit, Optimus, I'm the Chosen One!” Prime's optics flickered in surprise, both at the curse and the informal use of his given name. Some Autobots were afraid to even use it to his face. “I can make my own decisions without your interference! Haven't you've done enough to ruin my life already? I don't know how often I prayed to Primus for your return after I inherited the matrix, but I guess it's true what they say – “be careful what you wish for”. I may have not been the leader that you were, but I was damn sure trying. And the minute you get back, you undo all the hard work I've done and set things up the old way. Face it, you're obsolete! You're stuck in a rut that you've been in ever since you landed on this planet! You wouldn't know a new idea if it bit you on the aft!” Hot Rod was trembling with anger. He couldn't stop the flow of words that surged from his central processor and tumbled out of his mouth component. “And now I find out you're my dad! Can't I ever get free of your shadow? Primus, how I wish that you weren't my father! And I wish you had never come back to life! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST STAY DEAD?”

Optimus gasped and flinched as if he had been physically struck by the harsh, hurtful words. He slowly rubbed his cheek, as if a blow had landed there. His blue optics were wide with shock and hurt. His vocal processor worked soundlessly, unable to make a sound. Hot Rod realized that he had something irrevocably cruel and wished with all of his might that he could take it back, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

Prime's gaze dropped to the floor. His shoulders slumped. Hot Rod had to strain the words that were spoken. “You're right, Roddy. About everything. I shouldn't have come back. I'm sorry I've been such a burden to you. You don't have to worry about me bothering you any more.”

He turned and walked out the door, leaving Hot Rod gaping at him in horrified dismay. Why, oh why had he said those terrible things? He was frustrated and angry, sure, but that was no reason to tear his mentor to pieces! Everything had come to a head, and the words had come spilling out before he could stop them. He couldn't stop replaying Prime's expression in his mind – the shocked expression, the hurt look in his optics. Prime's dear son had done more damage to him than a missile ever could. Some Autobots thought that their leader was invulnerable, immune to both physical and emotional pain. That battle mask hid most of his expressions. He rarely laughed, never seemed to cry, scarcely made a sound when he was injured. Hot Rod had just proved how untrue that was. He promised to himself that he'd do his best to make it up to Optimus. If only he could have one more chance.


end of Chapter Nine

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