How the Mighty Have Fallen

by Phantom

Chapter Three

Prime strode briskly down the hall, heading towards the command center. The Autobots nodded at him as he entered. Magnus walked over to him as he stopped in front of Teletran One's large screen.

"Is it time to contact Cybertron?" Magnus asked him. Prime nodded. Magnus gestured to the Autobots working in the room, who quickly exited. Magnus smiled as he left also.

Prime shook his head as he established a link with the communications equipment on Cybertron. Alita's form appeared on the screen as the link formed. In the background, Prime could see the robots elbowing each other suggestively as they left the room. He smiled to himself. These chats with Alita were supposed to concern business matters only, but their warriors assumed otherwise and gave them privacy. Prime appreciated the gesture, especially since their talks were infrequent, and it gave him freedom to voice his personal feelings without embarrassment.

"Hello, Alita," he said softly. She smiled at him.

"Hello, Prime," she replied. "How is the war going?"

"The Decepticons made another attack today, but it was successfully repelled. I think we are making slow but sure progress," Prime told her.

She nodded. "I feel the same way. The Decepticons still desire conquest, but we have slowly gained the upper hand."

"Let's hope it stays that way," Prime said fervently. "So, how are things with you?" he asked on a personal level.

Her optics turned sad. "I miss you, Prime. I feel empty without you by my side, and my recharging bed feels cold without you there."

"I feel the same way," Prime sighed. "I wish we could be together for once. I wish that our positions in the Autobot army didn't force us apart."

She smiled reassuringly. "Well, the war is calming down a little, and the battles are not so fierce here. Perhaps soon I will be able to join you."

Prime looked quite happy, but then an air of melancholy descended on him. "I wish to Primus that were true. But I know too well the demands that are put upon us."

Alita frowned at him. "You sound as if something's bothering you, Prime."

Prime hesitated, uncertain. Should he tell her of his worries? He didn't want to worry her, but then again he did need to talk to someone, and Alita was more than just a lover, she was one of his best friends. "Yes, Alita, there is something bothering me."

Alita nodded for him to continue. "I'm listening. Please tell me what's troubling you."

Prime inhaled through the air intakes behind his half-mask. "Well, sometimes I feel--"

"Decepticons!" came a cry from the corridor behind Alita's command center. The sound of missiles impacting on their targets came soon afterward.

"Damn it!" Alita yelled. "Won't they ever quit?" She turned back to the screen and gazed sadly at her love. "I'm sorry, Prime," she said softly, "but I'm needed now. We'll talk again soon."

"It wasn't that important, Alita. Don't worry about it." Once again, Prime lost the courage to speak of his problems. Alita's responsibilities came first, he reminded himself. His problems were secondary.

"I'll speak to you soon, Prime. Alita out." She broke off communications.

Prime sighed to himself as he turned off the screen. He certainly seemed to be sighing a lot these days. He knew that he would not get the chance to communicate with Alita for several weeks, unless something major occurred. Communication with Cybertron was risky, since the Decepticons might be able to intercept the messages. Besides, Alita's time was important, and he didn't want to waste it by burdening her with his problems.

He exited the command center, passing by a cluster of Autobots in the hall, who entered the room and resumed their stations. He stared at Magnus' back as his friend walked by. Magnus was an old, trusted friend. Perhaps he could ... no, he couldn't talk to Magnus. Magnus seemed to be somewhat in awe of him, and he had enough doubts of his own. Prime didn't want to make Magnus feel even more insecure by telling him his own problems.

He wandered through the halls, not quite ready to enter his office and resume his work. He paused outside the recreation room and gazed inside. There were several Autobots inside, relaxed, enjoying their time off duty. How he envied them. How he wished that he could just walk in and sprawl on one of the massive sofa-type chairs, a container of high-grade energon in his hand. He wished that he could hold a simple conversation without the other robot shifting around uncomfortably, no doubt feeling that he was being judged and had to live up to an expectation.

Once, he had been able to do all those things. Once he had been Orion Pax. He had been affable and easy to get along with, and was rewarded by many close friends. He could drink high-grade energon with the best of them, and often won many chugging contests. Prime smiled in amusement as he recalled his youth. But all that had changed. He could never go back to the carefree, spirited youth that he had once been. He had seen too much violence, had too much lifefuel on his hands.

Prime spotted Smokescreen in animated discussion with Powerglide. He had given Smokescreen a special job many millions of years ago, a job that he knew he could not do alone. Even back then, he knew that he was isolated from his Autobots. He wanted to alleviate their worries and help them with their problems, but his position put a barrier between them. He entrusted Smokescreen with the task of serving as a sort of counselor, helping the Autobots sort through their problems. What would Smokescreen think if Prime approached him with his own problems? Would Smokescreen think he was weak, that he wasn't fit to command? Perhaps not, but Prime wasn't particularly close to Smokescreen, and knew he would have difficulty giving voice to his problems.

Smokescreen looked up and spotted Prime in the doorway. "Prime!" he exclaimed in surprise. Prime never came down to the recreation room. Blaster looked up with a guilty expression and removed his feet from the table. Sunstreaker quickly hid his container of high-grade energon behind his back. Everyone in the room had made some sort of effort to straighten up at the sight of their leader.

"Sorry to disturb you. I was just passing by," Prime told them and walked away. He felt worse than ever. He certainly was aware of what went on in the rec room. He knew that robots put their feet on the table and drank high-grade energon. He wouldn't condemn their actions; on the contrary, he would gladly join them if they would have him. But such a thing was not meant to be. Just the sight of him made them nervous, as if they were doing something wrong and would be punished.

Prime avoided the gaze of those that he passed as he headed down the hall to his quarters. He had never felt more alone. He knew that he was about to do something very dangerous, something that he had always preached against. He couldn't believe that he was even considering it, but his responsibilities rested on his shoulders like a ton of bricks, and he was desperate. He just prayed that he would be strong enough to resist the temptation.

end of Chapter Three

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