Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

Nova scurried along the ventilation shaft quickly, heart racing in the darkness.

Stupid idea. I can't believe I'm alive.

Luckily, due to the general uproar of the ship's crew at the sight of the Prime, she had narrowly managed to slip into the ducts without drawing attention to herself. 

But the Dark Energon poisoning made movement far more exhausting than before, and to her fright, she nearly collapsed squarely behind Megatron with even the small effort of crawling to the vents. She couldn't fathom how he or Optimus could even stand after such direct exposure to Unicron's Spark.

Then again, she remembered, they were both stronger than she, and Megatron had a tolerance for the stuff.

Having followed the Prime under the floor for a short distance, and satisfied that no one was likely to kill him in the immediate future, the half-spark spent several minutes sitting in the dark vents by his door, slumped against the wall, trying to catch her breath.

It was stuffy and hot in the ducts, but she dared not remove her armor, not when she was this deep in enemy territory.

The last time she had infiltrated her enemy's base to rescue someone, she reminded herself, she had been discovered, and the one she had tried to rescue had only been taken further out of her reach. This time, the situation was worse. If she made a single mistake, she would surely die. Maybe Optimus would die, too.

No mistakes, then. Not this time. 

Shaking fingers tapped restlessly on her legs, and she released a wavering breath into the silence.

She wanted to speak with Optimus more than anything, but Nova knew that to reveal herself now would mean a horrible death. For the moment, she was alone behind enemy lines, and would have to handle the situation by herself.

The thought paralyzed her. 

Her imagination ran wild, painting pictures of all possible escape scenarios and how they would go wrong. She imagined Megatron discovering her before she could help Optimus. He could crush her, step on her, pull her to pieces — and worst of all, she imagined being strapped to that medical table again, forced to undergo the twisted functions of every single instrument in Knock Out's arsenal.

She tossed her head to clear it, sucking in a deep breath. 

Maybe Optimus is bluffing. Maybe this is all part of a plan to fool Megatron. Any minute now, he's gonna ditch the façade and bring down the entire army, and everything will be all right. 

The thought encouraged her until she remembered the way Optimus spoke to Jack when he gave him the Key, and her heart dropped like a stone. No matter how hard he tried, Optimus couldn't even deceive a toddler. Which meant this was all for real. 

Maybe he was gone forever.

Nova pulled her knees up to her chest, staring somberly at the darkness stretching away in front of her. 

What am I supposed to do?

Perhaps it was due to the fatigue or her crippling terror, but no ideas would come to her mind.

Resigning herself to a long night, Nova tightened her armor around her shoulders and settled down to wait. Every so often, the terrified girl fancied she could hear someone approaching her ventilation shaft, imagining they would hear her pounding heart. The very thought of Soundwave stalking the halls with his silent, eyeless face and all-hearing ears was enough to keep her awake for hours.

She spent the night drifting in and out of fitful sleep, watching Optimus' room for any sign of movement, until finally, she closed her eyes out of sheer exhaustion and lost consciousness altogether, her woes and worries momentarily silenced by blissful rest. 

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Nova jerked awake a while later. How much time had passed was a mystery to her; she could have been asleep for two hours or two days. 

Feeling sick and exhausted and slightly more irritable than afraid, she crawled along the duct beside Optimus' room and found the door open, the inhabitant long gone. Filled with sudden panic, Nova pulled herself into the vents above the hallway and began a hunt for the medibay, crawling through an endless network of cramped, stuffy vents, berating herself for indulging in that stupid nap.

Navigating her way across the warship took some time, and her lack of familiarity with its layout made finding the medical bay even more difficult. She kept going in circles, and several times she stumbled over her own hands or had to wriggle between tight spaces in the wall, both of which made a lot of noise and sent her heart into her throat. Luckily, few Decepticons were on patrol, and no one discovered her presence.

It took her about half an hour to locate the blasted room and another few minutes to find a position that would afford her an acceptable view. Seeing that Optimus had not yet arrived, she took up a post where she could observe everything, and sat down to wait.

Knock Out was alone in the medibay, humming to himself, getting some tools in order, and setting up a medical slab. He was still preparing for a patient, so Optimus couldn't have been treated and gone. 

Despite herself, she yawned, oddly comforted by the ever-present hum of the ship's engines. 

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A loud clunk woke her up, and she started awake just in time to see the medical table lowering to its former position. Optimus now lay upon it, with Knock Out standing close by, and what Nova saw freshly engraved upon his shoulder made her recoil in horror.

"Welcome back to the winning team," Knock Out smiled, putting the finishing touches on the Decepticon symbol. It glowed red-hot on her guardian's chassis, a searing image that branded her mind.

"Oh, Optimus," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes to shut out the symbol. "What have they done?"

But no matter how hard she tried, the afterimage of the grotesque emblem was burned into her eyelids and would not go away.

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Orion followed Megatron silently into the bridge, looking around at the various Vehicon troopers milling about below him. The bridge was poorly lit, and the young archivist wondered why everything in the warship had been so dark and gloomy thus far.

Probably a means of conserving energy,  he thought to himself.  I suppose that's very practical. 

Megatron, his back turned to his now-young ward, began to speak, utterly unaware of the listening ear in the ducts above the enormous viewing screen.

"You have been a captive of the Autobots and locked in stasis for quite some time, Orion," the warlord explained sympathetically. "Long enough for us to be in an exodus on another world."

"Exodus?" Orion inquired, joining him. "Why?"

Megatron peered down at him gravely. "Because the warlord Ratchet's careless actions led to this."

An image shot up onto the screen.

A wide panorama of a barren metal landscape, pockmarked and clearly dead, met Orion's surprised eyes.

From her vantage point above, Nova could clearly see the expression of horror that appeared on her guardian's face.

"Cybertron," he gasped, and as the camera panned over the planet's cold, desolate plains, his shock melted into the most angered, hate-filled look Nova had ever seen on Optimus' face. It frightened her.

Megatron's words were full of poison, and his wiles were beginning to work upon the young clerk. Optimus Prime, in any form, may have been unable to lie, but Megatron had no such handicap.

Under Megatron's silent glares, the poor Vehicon operating the slideshow flipped through full-length, high-definition images of Cybertron's war-scarred landscape. Daring to peer at the screen, Nova was taken aback by how much destruction the planet had suffered. The alien land was filled with burned and blackened buildings, overshadowed by choking, dark skies. It was a sobering sight for the young girl.

They all lost everything... 

"I cannot believe Ratchet to be capable of such horrors," Orion said in astonishment.

"Yes," hissed Megatron, "And to think that the Doctor of Doom's mad quest for power continues."

He turned to Orion, launching into a web of lies that made Nova grind her teeth.

"His marauders pursued us to this planet's orbit. We feel its species is not ready to behold us."

Megatron turned and folded his hands behind his back, walking away from the screen as he continued. "But we have resolved to protect this world from the same tragedy which was dealt to our own."

Nova tightened her fists.

"One question, Megatron," Optimus stopped him. "Why are we called Decepticons?"

The warlord hesitated.

"Another craven Autobot scare tactic," he said finally, moving his arms in a dramatic flourish. "The name was meant to demonize us; instead, we wear it as a badge of honor! For if speaking the truth is deception, then we are gladly guilty."

Satisfied, Optimus nodded.

"Now please, Orion," Megatron said to the curious recruit, turning to leave as Nova scurried along the duct after him. "There will be plenty of time for catching up. You must rest."

"Megatron," Optimus' voice swelled with passion in the room as Megatron stopped again. "I will do my part to stop Ratchet's unspeakable crimes of aggression." He clenched his fist. "This I vow, with all my Spark."

"Oh, great," Nova sighed as the door closed behind Megatron. Optimus had literally signed his Spark over to his sworn enemy.

She could even hear Megatron's comment to Soundwave outside, coming in a broken, airy rasp through the ventilation ducts.

"It seems we have successfully achieved control of Orion's Spark," he said, amused at the delicious irony. "Now, to put his mind to work. Have you sanitized the data core?"

There was no response, but Nova assumed Soundwave nodded, for Megatron continued in a pleased voice. "Excellent. Our new archivist will require unlimited access to our files. It would be…  counterproductive  for him to stumble upon any sensitive information."

"I've got to talk to him," Nova told herself. "We have to get out of here."

You really think he'll believe you?  her brain replied.  Look at him. 

Nova slowly turned and looked through the vent slits. Optimus was staring at the images of Cybertron, his hands trembling. 

He's just lost everything he ever loved. As far as he knows, Megatron is all he has left. You're his enemy. If you show your face now, he'll tell Megatron -- and you will die.   

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Hours later, Nova curled up into a miserable ball inside another shaft. This time, she had taken up a position in a floor vent under Optimus' makeshift office. Since she was at an intersection of the ducts underneath the floor, she could keep an eye on Optimus as he worked while listening for sounds in the outer hallway.

Now, Megatron was conversing with Knock Out just outside the room, explaining the task to which he had put Orion.

"When we stormed the Iacon Hall of Records in the waning days of the war for Cybertron, we acquired highly classified files — files written in Autobot codes which we had been unable to decipher."

"Autobot codes which the archivist Orion Pax should have no trouble cracking," Knock Out realized with a smile in his voice. "Considering what's at stake, shouldn't we beef up the security around here?"

After a pause, Megatron responded in an amicable voice.

"Knock Out; I believe that Orion will perform most effectively if he does not feel threatened or confined in any way. However, it is no coincidence that Orion's work-station is located in direct proximity to the Energon storage vault…"

"… Which is under constant surveillance," Knock Out finished. "Well played."

The half-spark wrinkled her nose in disgust. Filthy 'Cons. 

"I believe it is high time I pay our industrious new archivist a visit," Megatron said, his footsteps thudding toward the door as Knock Out remained behind. Nova scrambled forward in the shaft to listen as the door slid open, granting the warlord access.

"Orion! How fares Project Iacon?"

"I am a bit rusty, I fear," Orion responded, without turning away from the computer. "I've only managed to decode three entries."

"And what do these entries comprise?" Megatron inquired expectantly, still standing at a respectful distance.

"They were logged by Autobot archivists during the war..." Orion said, allowing his typing to halt for a moment. "... after I entered stasis. My only knowledge of their contents so far is that they are coordinates."

He turned from the computer and gestured to a hologram of Earth. "Targeting locations on this very planet."

As Megatron looked over his work, Orion continued speaking, and Nova noticed that the clerk was markedly timid in his manner. Every time he met Megatron's eyes, he broke contact first and looked at the ground, as if unsure of himself.

Oh, Optimus, she thought with pity. What happened to you?

"I surmise that they could indicate hiding places for vessels, shuttled from Cybertron… for safekeeping," he said.

"Such as… historical documents, or cultural artifacts?" Megatron wondered. Nova could tell he was searching for something deeper, a suspicion the oblivious Orion confirmed with his next statement.

"My greatest fear would be weapons of mass destruction," he said. "Hidden away, for later use."

Megatron's mouth curved into an evil, secret smile, and Nova knew precisely what the Decepticon was after. Concealing his satisfaction, he turned and faced Orion in false good fellowship.

"All the more reason we must do everything in our power to keep said vessels from Autobot reach," he said, placing a warm hand on Optimus' shoulder. "We are fortunate to have you on our side, Orion Pax."

Nova nearly kicked the vent walls.

Then, Megatron turned to exit the room, but the archivist ventured to ask another question.

"Lord Megatron?"

Nova winced at the words coming out of his mouth but reminded herself that he didn't mean it… he didn't know.

As Megatron waited expectantly, Orion continued. "I am puzzled by one particular finding. I have discovered several historical references to Starscream as your second-in-command."

He pressed a button, and an image of the skinny, winged Decepticon flew up on the screen. "Yet I have not seen him aboard the ship."

Nova nearly chuckled at the expression on Megatron's face, and he indeed seemed to be at a loss for a clever response, for he only turned to the archivist and said lamely: "Sadly, Commander Starscream is dead."

With that, he turned and left the room, giving no further opportunity for Orion to ask any more intrusive questions, and Nova shook her head in disgust in her hiding place.

Everyone knew that Starscream had deserted the Decepticons after being held captive by the Autobots. Now he was aligned with no side, and since his defection, no one had seen or heard of him for several months.

Orion turned and further inspected the computer screen; his eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

A brief glimmer of hope began to blossom in Nova's mind as she watched him. Perhaps he wasn't so compliant after all. Optimus Prime was no fool, and she found it hard to believe Orion Pax had been one either.

Then again, she remembered, Optimus was now as innocent as a child, and he trusted Megatron — after all, why shouldn't he? As far as he was concerned, the warlord was still his best friend. 

I have to do something. Now's my chance.   

She glanced up at the slits in the grate above her head determinedly. There had to be some way to talk to him -- to convince him to leave.

Bad idea. Stupid.

I have to try.

Quietly, Nova extended her wrist-blade out a couple of inches and wedged it under the grate, sliding it upward and outward, moving it little by little.

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The grate had nearly been shifted out of position when Nova heard something. The sharp screech of rubber on metal reverberated through the ducts to meet her twitching ears.

"Arcee?" Nova whispered in disbelief. She turned away from the grate and angled her head, listening intently. 

"That's Arcee."

Abandoning the vent cover, she scurried down the length of the ventilation shaft as fast as she could, heading for the place from which the noise had come. Sure enough, in an adjacent hallway, the sound of blaster fire and clashing metal spurred her onward, so that she was in a half-run, half-crawl sort of crouch as she sped through the duct. Her heart raced. An elated smile tugged at her lips. The others were trying to save Optimus! 

The noise of battle got closer and closer until something fell onto the top of the grate with a crash. Flinching away, Nova looked closer. It was a dead Vehicon body.

"Well, I guess stealth is out the window," she muttered, forming her blaster and aiming at the grate. In three blasts, she had made enough of a hole to crawl out and take a look at her surroundings, ducking behind the corpse of the Decepticon for cover.

Arcee was indeed aboard, stabbing and slashing one Vehicon after another, laying waste to all Decepticons which stood in her way. She had pinned one poor soul to the ground with her blades extended and yelled, "Where's Optimus?!"

At the sight of her, Nova's heart leapt for joy, and she opened her mouth to cry out, but she hesitated for a moment as something troubled at the tactical portion of her mind, and her heart froze as she realized: 

Where were the others? 

The Vehicon struggled to break free from Arcee's grip, but he refused to speak as she threateningly raised her arm in the air. "Answer me!!"

The trooper, instead of answering, looked behind him into the hallway that joined theirs, from which spouted an entire unit of Vehicon troopers, their blasters alive with red fire.

Scrambling to her feet, Nova struggled to get out of the hole, tripping over herself in her haste. 

Arcee used the trooper as a temporary shield, allowing his corpse to take the brunt of the lasers until the other Vehicons approached. Then she burst into action, dodging and jumping and blasting and slashing, even running over a Vehicon in her motorcycle mode, popping a wheelie off of his head as she sped off to look for her leader.

"Arcee!" Nova called after her, "Arcee!! Wait!"

But the two-wheeler was gone, her red taillight disappearing around the corner as she revved up her engine and vanished from sight, leaving Nova alone with several dozen Vehicon carcasses.

All her hopes came crashing down, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. 

No ...

Her shoulders slumped, and she took in a shuddering breath as she trembled. 

Then her head sprang up as an idea slammed into her brain. 

Optimus has to see her.

She slipped through the shafts even faster now, crawling with purpose through the dark tunnel back to her guardian.

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Standing at his computer and typing in several decoding algorithms, Orion suddenly cocked his head at the increasingly loud noises rattling his locked door. Curious, the young archivist abandoned his research and approached the door. As it slid open, he placed one hand on the wall and leaned out to look into the hallway.

Nova, wedged into a crevice beside the opening, smiled and blew off her smoking blaster. Her decoy had worked.

Two Vehicons sprinted past the opening, one of them pausing to speak with the clerk.

"Orion, please return to your station," he ordered. "Lord Megatron's orders."

Nova was pleased to hear Orion step out of the door after the Vehicons had left, too inquisitive to heed their warning.

She ducked back into the ventilation shaft as she heard blaster fire coming closer. Even though Arcee had managed to infiltrate the ship, the two-wheeler was alone. Nova did not want to give away her presence until she was sure they could get Optimus out, especially since her eyes had caught a flicker of movement at the end of the hallway. 

Soundwave was on the move.

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Her way now clear, Arcee dodged the last of the lasers and sped down the hallway as fast as her motor would allow. She had absolutely no idea where they were keeping Optimus, but she was not about to waste her one chance to find him. She had to be faster; search the ship before it was too late. 

But her determination stalled as a slim figure came into view.

Taking his time, Soundwave planted his feet at the end of the hallway and stood in silence, staring calmly at the incoming motorcycle.

Arcee popped a wheelie, revving her engine in defiance of the silent spook. Optimus was here, she knew. He had to be. And no one, not even Soundwave, could stop her. Not now.

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Soundwave was aware. He was aware of everything. He watched the impudent little blue Autobot streaking toward him at impossible speed, and he watched the nosy Prime, walking at a slower pace from his left. Megatron had ordered him to get rid of the two-wheeler and discreetly. The curious archivist must not be allowed to suspect that he needed to be saved. To any other Decepticon, this would seem like an impossible task, but Soundwave was not any other Decepticon.

He knew how to deal with the motorcycle. He knew precisely how.

The coordinates for the Groundbridge he wanted to make appeared as beeping numbers on his screen-like face. The moment — the very splintered moment that the two-wheeled Autobot would have slammed into him with the full force of her tiny body, the portal blossomed between them and swallowed her up. It dumped her squarely into the center of the Arctic just as Orion Pax rounded the corner.

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"I heard a commotion," Orion said to Soundwave, hoping to elicit a response. But the silent Decepticon barely gave him a glance before walking away, leaving Orion more puzzled than before.

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Back in the 'office,' Nova silently berated herself for letting Arcee get away without even seeing that Optimus was alive. 

How could you fail? He was right there. She was right there. That was your one chance to make him remember something, idiot. Now Arcee's gone. They don't even know if Optimus is alive, and you're going to get yourself killed. 

Ignoring her worries, Nova worked her knife further under the grate and slid it away from its holder. The other Autobots had no way of knowing if either of them were being held on the warship, but it was an immense comfort to know that they were actively searching for them.

"Just like the clueless archivist I find myself with," she muttered as Orion looked up from his computer.

Suddenly, as she moved the grate out of its hole and made to lay it on the ground, it slipped out of her fingers and hit the metal floor with a clattering crash!

Klutz! Idiot! Moron!

"Who is there?" Orion asked.

Silence.

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Petrified, Nova pressed herself into the shadows and looked up through the narrow opening, listening to his heavy footsteps coming closer. Her shaking breath hissed through her teeth. 

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no...

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Kneeling by the damaged vent, the archivist peered down into the hole.

"Come out," he said gently. "Do not be afraid."

A slight sound came from the hole in the floor, and Orion saw something move in the vent. He could tell that the person, whoever it might be, was of very small proportions indeed, and therefore was probably a little afraid.

"I will not harm you," he promised. "You may come out."

"Are — are you alone?" A quiet, feminine voice responded to his vow.

Orion looked around. 

"I am," he told her. 

"What about security cameras?"

He frowned, a little puzzled by her question. 

"I see no security cameras in the room," he replied softly. "Please, show yourself that I may know who you are."

"All right," the voice said, and the clerk was astonished at what he saw emerge -- hands first -- from the ventilation shaft.

It was a tiny little… person, barely as tall as his hand and clad in glinting armor. She clambered up through the hole and stood before him, rubbing her arms sheepishly.

"I remember you," Orion said, remaining on his knee. "From the tunnels." 

The thing trembled. 

His frown suddenly deepened. "You are with the Autobots."

"Don't--" the little thing warned as she backed away. "I'm not your enemy."

Orion considered her for a moment, wondering if he should sound the alarms. 

But the creature seemed so worried, and looked at him with such desperate fervor that he felt she needed to be protected rather than exposed. 

Besides, she was so small that she probably couldn't hurt him too badly, even if she tried. 

Orion, being the curious sort who didn't like to make a scene, opted to talk to her instead -- at least until she did something violent. 

The archivist tilted his head as he peered at her armor. "Are you a Minicon?"

She seemed confused, as if her identity was obvious. "What? No. Don't you know what humans look like?"

"Only from diagrams," he answered truthfully. He had spent quite a lot of time researching the things this planet had to offer, as a sort of distraction from the fate of his own. This little creature was just as fascinating as he imagined. 

Shrinking away from his probing gaze, the human regarded him in silence, waiting to see what he would do. Orion could tell she was even more skittish without her armor. This puzzled him. She bore the Autobot symbol on her gauntlets, and yet she seemed much too fearful to be a spy...

Giving a small smile, he offered a forefinger to her. "I am Orion Pax." 

Haltingly, she took it in her tiny hands. "I'm Nova."

Orion's eyes widened in surprise. For being so small, human hands were very warm. 

"You told me that you were not an enemy," he continued, leaning back a little to give her space. "You mean Lord Megatron no harm?"

A pained look flashed over her face, but she recovered quickly.

"Uh," she answered, shooting furtive glances at the door. "I'm just here for you."

"For me?" Orion blinked. "But ... what do you mean?"

Her eyes darted up to meet his, her voice lowering to a whisper. "I ... can't talk out in the open."

"Oh. Of course," Orion replied, glancing around the room. "We can speak by the monitor." 

After a moment's hesitation, he slowly offered her his open hand. "... Do you…"

"No." Nova shrank away from his touch, approaching the computer herself. "I can handle it."

"Well, then," he began, watching as she scrambled onto his keyboard. "What did you wish to speak to me about? And how did you know my name?"

The human took in a breath. "Because I know who you are."

Orion shook his head. "That is not possible. I have never been to this planet."

"Okay," she sighed. "You really don't know who I am?"

He tilted his head. "Should I?"

She folded her arms, trying to sound authoritative. "Okay, listen. I know this sounds crazy, but you are in terrible danger, and you need to come with me right now."

"What?"

"You have been captured by the enemy," Nova explained again, "And we need to get off this ship."

"Leave the ship?" Orion inquired, a quizzical frown darkening his features. "But Lord Megatron has forbidden--"

"Megatron has been lying to you since you woke up," Nova said sharply. "And I don't have time for this. We have to go, now!"

He shook his head, agitated.

"You must be thinking of someone else. I- I have been in stasis for eons."

"That's a dirty lie!" Nova growled. "Megatron wants you to believe you're still Orion Pax, whoever that is!"

"But -- I am Orion Pax," he insisted. "Who do you think I am?"

Nova gave an impatient sigh. "Fine. I'll spell it out for you."

She took another deep breath, about to launch into her tale, but the door slid open before she could speak.

Orion spun around, guilt written all over his face, and Nova immediately slid off the keypad and dropped to the floor, ducking behind her guardian's foot. 

The last person either of them expected to see walked into the room, four large Energon cubes stacked in his skinny arms.

Starscream?!

The cubes initially hid Orion and Nova from Starscream's view, but once the rogue Decepticon had gotten his bearings and realized who stood before him, he choked out a gasp of surprise.

"No!" he cried. "Optimus Prime?!"

Dropping the cubes, the former lieutenant raised his hands and leveled his arm-rockets directly at the helpless archivist, who froze in his tracks. Nova held her ears, her armor locking around her body in anticipation of the fiery blast. 

"Please," Orion said, raising his hands quickly. "I mean no harm."

"Oh?!" Starscream shot back, his rockets still trained on the Prime. "Then… what are you doing here?!"

"Research," replied he. "For Lord Megatron."

Starscream did not lower his arms. "Is this some kind of joke?!"

"I do not understand," Orion stated. The innocence on his face was indisputable. Nova's heart raced in her chest. What was stopping Starscream from killing Optimus where he stood? 

Stunned, Starscream realized that the Prime did not intend to fight, and he lowered his blasters with a gaping face.

"And why did you call me… Optimus Prime?" inquired the archivist.

"Uh… why wouldn't I?" Starscream asked, choosing his words carefully.

"Because my name is Orion Pax," the clerk responded humbly. "I am ... far from being a Prime."

The rogue Decepticon glanced at the Decepticon insignia adorning the shoulder of his former enemy and scrambled for a response. 

To his credit, he was excellent at improvisation.

"Uh, you reminded me of someone I once knew, that's all," he lied easily.

Her eyes on the vent, Nova crept out from behind Optimus' foot, but when Starscream caught sight of her, he raised his blaster again.

"What?!" he roared. "We have that vermin on board, too?!"

"Don't you dare!" Nova yelled, her guns locked on the Seeker's stupid face.

But Orion stepped between them, reaching down to shield her with his hand. If Nova had been in the mood to think about such things, she would have noticed his sudden, almost angry, burst of courage. 

"Do not fire," he said in a supplicating manner. "She means no harm."

He stared the rogue Decepticon down until Starscream deactivated his blaster, and they all stood quietly again.

Shaking, Nova returned to her spot behind the archivist, keeping her weapons mounted. For the moment, she was safer with him.

"You are Starscream," Orion observed.

"Yes…" replied the Seeker, his face twisted in disbelief.

"Lord Megatron told me you had been — terminated."

Starscream smirked. "Lord Megatron says many things, only some of which are true."

Nova raised her eyebrows in agreement, but the archivist found this information hard to accept.

"You are the second person to imply such a thing," he said incredulously. "Surely you do not suggest that our leader would speak ... falsehoods?

Starscream let loose a cackle of amusement. "Oh, you truly are being kept in the dark, aren't you?"

Eyes darting toward the door, Nova gritted her teeth, lowering her blasters a fraction as she debated whether to retreat. This was going on for too long. 

"You speak in many riddles, Starscream," Orion said desperately. "Please, tell me what it is that you know!"

"And… in return?" The greedy Decepticon could not let an opportunity like this pass up.

Before Optimus could answer, the door clanked open again, and there stood the two Vehicons who had apprehended Optimus before.

"Starscream!" They whipped out their blasters. "Surrender!"

Shrieking, Starscream ducked behind Orion in a panic, using him as a living shield as the archivist drew back.

Instinct kicking in, Nova scuttled away amid the chaos, sliding into the vent shaft and slamming the grate back into place.

"Hold your fire!" Orion said, then felt his back shoved down by the Decepticon behind him as Starscream transformed into his jet form and blasted out of the room, his afterburner smoke lingering in the dark air.

"Remain in the lab," one of the Vehicons ordered as the disappearing jet rounded the corner.

Orion protested. "But I—"

"Lord Megatron's orders."

The door locked behind them as they departed, and Orion was again left alone.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Sounds of laser fire and distant explosions reverberated again through the walls as Nova pushed the grate out of its spot and rejoined her friend. 

When Orion spotted her, he knelt again. 

"Are you all right?" he inquired.

"Yeah. You?" 

"I am fine," Orion mumbled with a preoccupied expression. Nova could tell he was having trouble sorting things out.

"Sorry I left," she apologized. "But if anyone found out I was here, they would kill me."

His eyes widened. "You? A child?"

"Of course," she cried. "You just saw Starscream -- he was about to blow me up!" 

"Yes, his reaction was ... disturbing," he said, obviously conflicted. "Everyone is so eager to kill one another. I do not know what to make of all this."

"Well," Nova sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but Starscream was telling the truth. Megatron is lying to you."

Orion shook his head with some difficulty. "How can you say such things? Megatronus is my friend — I mean..." he sighed. "Megatron is my friend. Why would he inform me that Starscream had been terminated in the first place? What reason would he have to lie?" 

"Because he's not getting his stories straight," said the half-spark. "He's trying to cover everything up. That's what I've been trying to tell you -- he's lying about everything."

Optimus tilted his head. "Megatron may have been unaware that Starscream was alive. The two of them have a rather… unfriendly relationship. Perhaps he was was only mistaken."

She sighed. "Look, I know he is -- was your friend. But Megatron just wants to keep you here so you can decode that stupid Iacon thing, and he can get his hands on all those weapons."

Orion raised a skeptical eyebrow.  

"Look, I know you're confused, but you really have to trust me," Nova insisted. "I'm here to help you get off this ship before it's too late."

"I do not understand any of this," Orion confessed. "Both you and Starscream have told me that Megatron is falsifying information, but he… he showed me Cybertron."

Nova pulled in her breath.

"Cybertron is dead," she said gravely. "But Ratchet didn't do it — don't you know Ratchet at all?" 

Orion glanced to the side. "I ... thought I did."

"You do!" Nova insisted earnestly. "You do know him. He's old, and grumpy, and rusty. Right now, he's probably losing his mind looking for you. He's working as hard as he can to get you out of this… this awful, awful place..." She clenched her fists. "Don't you believe me?"

Orion sighed. "I do not know who to believe. You have both told me things about myself that I do not remember. But I cannot leave until I have uncovered the truth." 

Nova twisted her fingers, backing away. The realization that she was trusting a complete stranger with her life had just set in, and it terrified her.

Her fears came out in a whisper. "... Are you going to turn me in?" 

Orion Pax was silent for a moment.

"No," he replied at last. "I do not understand why Megatron would lie to me, but something does not feel right. You are so afraid of him..." 

He got to his feet, looking down at her curiously. "And it is odd."

"What?"

"I feel that I must protect you," he said. "Though you are technically my enemy."

He put a hand to his chest, rubbing it lightly. "Something... something about you--" 

"Orion." The door slid open, sending Nova flying for the grate, and Megatron strode in just as the archivist assumed a natural position at his computer. 

"I am so sorry for the recent commotion," he declared, looking him over. "You were not in any way harmed, were you?"

Miraculously, Orion managed to keep a straight face. 

"No, Lord Megatron," he responded. "But ... why did you tell me that Starscream was dead?"

"Because he is dead to our cause," the warlord responded easily, brushing past the archivist pompously and folding his hands behind his back. "Starscream was my most trusted lieutenant until he turned traitor and joined the Autobots." 

He turned back to the silent Orion with an air of disgust. "Never have I witnessed a more profound act of deceit!"

Orion stared at him.

Watching from the vents, Nova dared not breathe as Megatron tried to read him.

After a second, the warlord continued in a voice that dripped with concern. "He did not… do or say anything troubling to you?"

Orion held his gaze. "No." 

After a short pause, Megatron withdrew his searching stare. "Good. Perhaps it's best to forget the entire incident and return to your project."

"As you wish, my lord," Orion said calmly as the door shut behind Megatron with a snap.

Within the tunnel, Nova let out her breath in relief. She had not been betrayed. Something inside Orion Pax had compelled him to ensure her safety.

Suddenly, she heard a growl at the other end of the hallway. Curious, she crept silently through the long ventilation tunnel until the noise of Megatron stopped her in her tracks.

No sudden moves. 

Don't make a sound.

"Orion was never very adept at the art of deception," the warlord said to someone -- probably Soundwave, judging from the lack of response. "I made a mistake not terminating Starscream while I had the opportunity — a mistake I  do not  intend to make again!"

He knows...  Nova realized once they had gone. 

This time, she did kick the vent — hard. 

Gah! I knew it was too easy! 

"Nova?" A quiet voice called her name from the other end of the shaft. "Are you there?"

She scrambled back to the grate and emerged again into the workroom. 

"I'm here," she said, leaning her elbows on the floor as her legs dangled down into the duct. "Why didn't you give me away?"

"I have decided that, given further evidence, I must take the truth into account before I blindly brand anyone as an enemy," he said quietly.

"Great," she cried, hopping out of the vent and mounting her blasters. "Now let's take down this ship and everyone in it." 

He stared at her curiously.

"Why are you so eager to kill people?" he asked, with sorrow in his eyes.

Nova stumbled over her words. "Well, I -- uh, because they are eager to kill me."

"I do not know much about war," he said wisely. "But I believe we must be willing to reserve that course of action until every other option has been exhausted. Otherwise, I fear that this conflict may continue perpetually."

Ouch, her brain pointed out. That's him all right.

Nova shook her head. "Great, but we don't have time to argue about this. We have to go, now."

"I cannot do that," Orion said firmly. Again, the hint of his former authority startled Nova. 

"Are you kidding?" she cried, pointing toward the door. "Megatron knows you're lying! It's not safe anymore. We can't stay here!"

"You are free to go," said he, "But I cannot leave until I ascertain what I must do."

"Do?" Nova demanded, reaching the end of her wits. "What in the world are you going to do?!"

"If Megatron has been speaking the truth, I must help him," Orion explained. "If he has been misguided, I must appeal to him. And if your claim is true, and he has truly become an oppressor ..." he clenched his fists with a somber gleam in his eye. "Then I suppose I must stop him."

Nova groaned, clapping her hands to her head and letting out muttered curses as she marched in a frustrated circle.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! Gah!" she burst out at last, throwing up her hands. "Fine! Get us killed! See if I care! But I'm not leaving without you!"

Orion smiled. "I am glad for your company."

He stooped to her level, reaching out to pick her up, but Nova flinched away, her eyes wide. 

Thinking better of it, Optimus got to his feet and patiently allowed her to clamber up to the keypad herself, which she did briskly, plumping herself cross-legged beside his keypad with a grumpy sigh.

He studied the half-spark curiously for a moment. "Why did Starscream call you 'vermin?'"

"Because he's rude." 

"But he recognized you," insisted Orion. "Do the Autobots actually let you fight people like me?" 

Nova shrugged. "Yeah." 

"But... you are so small," Orion protested, indicating her size with his fingers.

"Small?!"

"And according to my research, you are young for a human," he observed, "Do the Autobots send children to fight for them?"

"You don't have to be big or strong to make a difference!" Nova cried. "You just have to do what's right. That's why I'm on this stupid warship." 

He tilted his head, trying to sort this out. "So... they sent you here because you are small?"

"They don't know I'm here," she said. "In fact, I don't think they know I'm alive."

Optimus frowned. "Why would you do something so dangerous?"

"Because I promised," she replied. "I promised I wouldn't go home without you. We need you."

"But I am nobody," he protested. "I am nothing but a simple archivist, confused and lost and unsure of myself. I have never done anything great, and yet you are risking your life to stay with me. How — how could you do something like that for me?"

The human tilted her head. "Because you would do the same for me."

"I don't know what to do," he sighed in frustration, turning to the computer. "I — I need to research. I need to find out why no one has matching stories." 

He set his hands down to type, but his fingers were blocked by the half-spark, who stood in the middle of his keypad. 

After studying one another for a minute, the girl raised her arms towards him, her resolute eyes locked with his as she clenched her jaw. 

Orion drew back a little as he realized what she wanted. "Oh..."

Taken aback, Nova lowered her arms a fraction, her eyes falling. "Neverm—"

But the archivist interrupted her with a hand behind her back, gently scooping her up and lifting her to his shoulder. 

Wide-eyed, Nova slid off his hand and sat timidly on his shoulder, letting out a small huff. 

Okay. Not so bad. We're fine.

Again, Orion was nagged by a vague reassurance that her presence was strangely familiar — that it was supposed to be this way — as his fingertips hovered over the keyboard.

"Okay," he exhaled, beginning to type. "Optimus… Prime."

The only result that came up was an image of a Cybertronian Nova did not recognize. She tilted her head, staring at it with narrowed eyes. 

"Never seen him before," she denied flatly. 

Orion exhaled again, shakily, as he began to read the biography attached to the image. "'Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobot invaders.'" 

"Invaders," Nova scoffed. "What a joke."

He studied the image again. "I reminded Starscream of him?"

"Definitely not," Nova denied. "Your shoulders aren't that ridiculous." 

" ... And Lord Megatron said Ratchet was the Autobot leader." The archivist frowned. "Someone is not telling the truth."

"Maybe they're hiding the real file," Nova suggested. "Megatron told Soundwave to purge the data core before you started working."

"I will try to bypass it." 

Orion began to type again, faster, more sure of himself. His focus had returned. 

Nova let out a yawn, slumping against the inside of his shoulder in fatigue. She had not slept in a long while.

"My apologies." Orion halted. "Are you injured?"

"No," she grumbled wearily. "Just hurry up and finish, so we can get outta here."

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Chapter Text

Nova was jolted awake many hours later as the archivist let out a frustrated noise. She shot upright, her guns at the ready.

"What?! Where?!"

"Why would the Decepticon archives be so heavily encrypted?" Orion demanded, his face twisted in confusion.

He had hit a snag, and judging by his tone, it was only the latest of several failures to crack the code. 

"Oh, that's all." Nova rubbed her eyes wearily, watching as he tried again, typing in a different sequence of commands to break the encryption. 

The strange Cybertronian with the stupid shoulders appeared on the screen once again. Orion clenched his jaw in determination and tried one last time.

Suddenly, in response to his keyed commands, the image was overlaid with a grid of squares. The colors and lines within the grid changed and shifted, forming an entirely different picture — one both Nova and Orion recognized. The wide-eyed archivist was now confronted with a perfect image of himself.

"You did it!" Nova hollered.

The archivist just gaped, staring at the picture with a shake of his head. "How could I possibly be … Optimus Prime?!"

He gazed upon the picture in disbelief for several seconds, until he found his voice and fired off a question.

"Is this true?" he demanded.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He looked up at the screen again, his shoulders shaking slightly as he leaned against the table for support.

"How can this be?" Orion breathed, but his incredulity turned to horrible realization in an instant as the truth dawned on him. "I... I must stop Megatron."

Nova did not hesitate for an instant.

"Well, that's great!" she said, ratcheting back her blasters and hopping off his shoulder. "We can jump him together. You kill him while I take out the guards."

"I am unarmed," he replied, obviously stressed. "And I do not want to kill him. He ... he was my friend."

"Fine," she sighed. "If you can't fight, then I have to figure out how to get us out of here. Maybe I can cause a diversion." She looked up at him doubtfully. "Can you outrun Soundwave?"

Orion was silent for a moment, then glanced at her with a resolute fire in his eyes. "No. You tell me that I am a Prime, a leader and defender of my people, yet you want me to stand by while you put yourself in danger for my sake?"

"Well, yeah," she shrugged. "You put yourself in danger for us all the time."

Without warning, heavy footsteps thudded outside the door.

"It's him!" Nova gasped.

Something changed in the face of the young archivist, and Nova nearly forgot he had lost his memory as he stared down the forbidding door.

"Right now, I must do for you what cannot be done for myself," Orion said, erasing the image on the screen and pointing to the area underneath the computer. "Hide there until it is safe."

"But I—"

"Nova," he interrupted, locking eyes with her. "Trust me."

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

So it was that Megatron found Orion Pax at the computer, apparently hard at work.

He greeted him amicably, as usual, but this time Nova could hear the faint edge of suspicion in his voice. This was not a social call. 

"Orion." He paced back and forth behind the archivist like a shark looking for the kill. "Have you made progress with Project Iacon?"

Nova could see Optimus' eyes darting back and forth, giving away his inner panic as he scrambled for a response. He took a breath, readying himself to face Megatron.

"It seems I am a bit rustier than I thought," he excused himself, failing to meet the warlord's eyes.

"Might that have anything to do with the nature of your after-hours research?" Megatron probed, coming forward and standing at Orion's side. "Did I fail to mention that we would be tracking your activities?"

He pressed a button on the computer keypad, and immediately an image of the real Optimus Prime flashed up on the screen. Nova gasped.

We're dead.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

With a glance down at Nova, Orion steeled his nerves and decided it was time for a confrontation. Left with no more excuses, he blurted out all his questions, hoping to find some remnant of truth in his old friend. 

"Why does history portray me as siding with the Autobot aggressors? And why did Starscream call me a Prime? I must know!" he pleaded. "Who  am I? "

"You are my clerk," Megatron snapped. "Now get back to work and decode that database!"

Orion stood silently for a moment, looking up at the images on the screen. Something powerful had awoken inside him, and it urged him on, telling him that it was time to act as a Prime, even if he did not feel like one. 

Then he made what Nova thought was the most magnificent decision she had ever seen.

"No," he stated, pressing a button on the keypad. "I would rather erase my findings than make them available for your questionable use."

Immediately, the data disappeared and was replaced by the Decepticon logo, indicating that his work had been completely erased. 

Ignoring Megatron's venomous glare, Orion turned away and began to walk towards Nova, but was stopped by a low chuckle rising from the depths of the Lord Decepticon.

The warlord pressed the same button again, and Nova gaped as every single piece of data blinked back to life. None of it had been erased.

"Did you really think that we wouldn't be tracking  and  documenting every iota of your valuable research?" he sneered.

Soundwave chose that time to step into the room, an image of the war-scarred Cybertron illuminated on his face screen. A signal's location pinged persistently on the globe, drawing Megatron's attention.

"One of our sentries was activated?" he inquired. "On Cybertron?"

Nova nearly jumped for joy. That had to be the Autobots! They were probably using the Key to access Vector Sigma right now. She and Optimus had to hold out just a little longer.

"You told me … our planet … was  dead, " Orion growled through gritted teeth.

"That is beside the point!" Megatron snarled. "Guards!"

Two Vehicons entered the room as Megatron approached Orion and flung out his sword.

"You will finish Project Iacon by the time I return …" he held the sword up to the archivist's neck so that Orion could see his own terrified reflection in its sharpened luster, "…or I will carve out your Spark before your very  eyes !"

He and Soundwave strode out of the room, no doubt heading for the Spacebridge. Nova looked up furtively from her hiding place underneath the computer, staring at the feet of the Vehicons standing between her and Optimus.

"Scrap," she whispered to the floor.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

"No one told you to stop, Pax," the Vehicon growled, activating his blaster and aiming it at Orion's back as his partner did the same. Hesitating, Orion turned from the screen and addressed them directly.

"I believe that Megatron intends to use whatever he finds in Project Iacon to harm the Autobots," he explained, extending a hand toward them. Perhaps these troopers would be more sympathetic to his cause. 

"Please," he entreated. "We can warn them."

In response, the Vehicon pulled back his fist and drove it into Optimus' face, making sparks fly as Nova let out a gasp. Then, he threw down his elbow and bashed the archivist in the middle of his back, bringing Orion to his knees while the second Vehicon kicked him in the side. Then, Orion's eyes were greeted by the triangular barrel of the Vehicon's blaster as he raised his head up from the ground.

"Get up, nerd," the Vehicon said. "I dare you."

Suddenly, out from under the computer darted the half-spark's armored body, flashing in the light as she flung out her blasters. 

"Don't touch him!"

"Nova! Wait!" Orion cried out.

But the enraged half-spark did not heed his warning. Aiming at the Vehicon's Spark, she clenched her fist in an attempt to fire her weapons, but to her horror realized that nothing had happened.

"Scrap!" she cried. 

I'm too tired to shoot?!

"Hey, look," the Vehicon laughed. "She can't even--"

Roaring, Nova leaped onto his leg, slashing and slamming the Vehicon with her blades. Her blows delivered quite a few dents to his chassis and caused his blaster to light up and go haywire.

"Hey!" The second Vehicon grabbed his partner's arm and shoved the erratic blaster towards the ground. "Point that somewhere else!"

The first Vehicon reached up with his free hand and yanked the exhausted human off of his face, grasping her arms in his clenched fist and laughing at the sight of her legs kicking uselessly above the ground.

"Heh. Hold it still," his partner said, taking aim at the half-spark. The first Vehicon nodded and seized her legs as well, pulling her body taut between his hands and holding her out to the weapon of his companion.

"No!" Orion leaped up from the ground and tried to push the blaster away, but he was too late. The laser had fired inches away from Nova's chest and caused her whole body to jerk as the shot exploded into her armor with full impact. She cried out in pain, and at that moment, the archivist thought he had never heard a more horrible sound in all the world.

Orion looked on in shock as the dangling form of the human was tossed aside like a dead animal. Her limp body hit the ground, rolled, and lay still.

"No…"  

The first Vehicon slammed him in the face, bringing his gaze away from the half-spark and up to his assailants. "Still care about those crummy humans, huh, Pax?"

He kicked him under the ribs savagely, and his friend contributed on the other side with a punch to his back.

"Man, he's really pathetic, huh?" he said with a chuckle.

They kept exchanging blows back and forth, making sparks fly from Orion's unresisting body until he could not even push himself up on his arms for the pain.

The Vehicons paused in their torture and let the battered archivist crawl towards Nova, trying to reach her, hoping against hope that she may have survived.

"You have to admit, it's a privilege to stomp the former leader of the Autobots," one of the Vehicons said in amusement.

Inches away from the human, Orion stopped at those words. He rolled over on his back, looking dazedly at the images of Optimus Prime on the computer screen, then at the faces of the Vehicons who stood above him.

However, before he could get up off the ground, a fist slammed into his eyes, once, twice, eliciting teeth-gritting groans of pain from Orion as he backed up against the wall to avoid their attacks. Kicks, punches, violent blows rained down upon the weakened archivist like relentless hailstones, and he covered his face with his arms as he protested.

"No."

Crash!

"Please."

Crash!

" Stop! Enough! "

With this last cry, Orion's hands transformed into the blasters he had long been without, and the Vehicons staggered back in sudden fear. Incredulous, Orion looked at his hands. 

"I — I'm armed?" 

Recovering, the troopers opened up their own blasters and fired upon the clerk, who ducked his head, screwed his eyes shut, and let lasers fly.

After a while, silence descended upon the room, and Orion dared to open his eyes. Sure enough, the smoldering bodies of two Vehicons lay dead in front of him.

He looked at his hands in a new light, astonished at what he had done, and them, the archivist of Iacon came up with a plan.

Orion scrambled forward and knelt by the half-spark, scooping her up in his hands. Again, this scene seemed familiar, dancing just out of his mind's reach. He had a terrible feeling he had held her in his hands like this before and wondered if she were alive. 

Acting out of some buried instinct, he prodded her in the back.

To his relief, her head jerked up as she sucked in a lungful of air and began to breathe again.

"Ow!"

"Are you all right?" Orion asked. "I thought you might be dead."

"I'm not all right," Nova groaned, holding her chest in pain. "It hurts..."

She glanced at the dead troopers, and her eyes widened. 

"Did you just...?"

"I — killed them," he said in a strange voice. "I wish there had been another way."

She nodded and let her head fall back in exhaustion. "Yeah."

"Can you remain functional until I bring you home?" Orion asked concernedly.

"I dunno," she breathed, "Don't fragging drop me." Her head rolled to the side as she fainted dead away.

"I won't," Orion promised, clutching her in his hand as he hurried to the warship's stationary Groundbridge portal.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Megatron, the fallen bodies of the three Autobot warriors lying in sprawled forms around him, stood at the entrance to the blooming Spacebridge portal with his sword drawn, waiting for someone very important.

"Come, Arcee, so that I might end the lineage of the Primes for all time," he muttered, his mouth curving into a venomous smile.

"I cannot allow that to happen, Megatron," another, stronger voice rang out from behind him.

The warlord spun around to face the speaker, and there, silhouetted against the light of the Groundbridge portal behind him, a human cradled in the palm of his hand, stood Orion Pax, the only one left to defy his might. He placed the human gently on the ground as Megatron turned to face him.

"And why should you care, Orion Pax?" Megatron spat venomously, seeking to destroy his young opponents' confidence. "You are no Prime."

"That may be true," he responded, looking down at Nova's body, "… or yet another deception, but this much I do know: My sympathies lie with the Autobots, and you are not one of us."

He deployed his blades and held them up in front of his face valiantly, standing in the way of Megatron despite any fears he may have had, and charged at him with a cry. Orion brought his blades up and swept them down towards his enemy.

But Megatron raised his own sword and blocked them on his arm as though fending off a child. He swung his left fist around with a growl and rammed the Autobot in the gut. The momentum lifted Orion fully off the ground, and with a cry of pain, he crumpled to the floor, head bowed, shoulders shaking.

"Your Spark may be in the right place, Orion," Megatron said condescendingly, bringing his elbow up and crashing it into the back of the young warrior's head, "But you have much to learn before you can hope to ever again stand your ground against me." 

He pointed the tip of his blade down at Orion before raising his arm in the air for the killing stroke. "A moment, sadly, which shall never come!"

Through the aching pangs in his head, Orion saw a speeding figure shoot out of the Spacebridge. She leaped up in the air and used the acceleration of her body to drive herself into Megatron's back, knocking him to the ground several yards away.

Surprised, Orion got to his feet and looked into the portal again. There was another figure emerging from it, a human similar to Nova, only with different armor and a domelike helmet fixed to his head. In his hands, the boy held something he recognized from data entries: the Key to Vector Sigma, capable of containing the collective wisdom of the Primes themselves. 

To his eternal shock, the human came close and pointed the ancient relic at him. What could this mean?

"Are you … certain I am worthy?" Orion asked as the human held up the card to him.

"You have no idea," the human responded, and a beam of radiant energy shot out of the Key, streaming into his chest and causing his paneling to slide open. Taking this strange new occurrence in stride, Orion watched the energy accumulate in his Spark chamber, surprised and very humbled to be chosen for such an honor. 

And as the Key finished transferring the information, floating into the air and descending into his hand, the plates of the Autobot closed, and as he rose to his feet, he was Orion Pax no more, but Optimus Prime at long last.

Having thrown Arcee and Ratchet aside, Megatron lunged at Optimus with his sword drawn, roaring in rage as he moved to finish off his sworn enemy.

"No!"

The sword blade flashed in the air as it swept down to meet Optimus' face, only one blow away from securing a victory for Megatron, and there was a loud  clang.

Megatron's face took on a look of horror.

The leader of the Autobots had closed his hands around the blade, stopping it inches from his face with a thundering noise.

"Megatron …" Optimus Prime's battle mask slid over his mouth as he brought his vengeful fist back. "...Begone!!"

His flying uppercut slammed into Megatron's chin, sending him into the air with a flurry of trailing sparks.

One by one, the Autobots got up from the ground, eyes fixed on their leader. Nova awoke with a groan, and they watched, transfixed, as Optimus drove Megatron back with mighty blows, battering the Decepticon's victory to shattered pieces as he inspired new hope in his team. Optimus Prime had indeed returned.

Nova slapped a fist on the ground. Yes!

With the last powerful blow, Megatron flew back and clattered against the wall, and Optimus finally had a moment to get his bearings.

"Ratchet, how did we arrive here?" he inquired as the others rallied behind him.

"Long story, old friend," the medic puffed.

Nova limped over to Jack, eyeing him with a smile.

"Took you long enough," she grinned. "Skip the sightseeing next time, spaceman!"

"Base to Arcee, " Fowler commed. "We're  reading five Autobot life signals and a half-spark down there. Is Prime with you?"

 " And Jack," Arcee confirmed.

"YES!"  Miko yelled, and Nova could almost hear June's sigh of relief at her son's safety.

Megatron, still enraged, got to his feet and growled as the Autobots opened fire, seeing that a Groundbridge had appeared right next to them.

"It's ours!" Arcee reported.

"Autobots, fall back," Optimus ordered, still firing upon the Decepticon leader, allowing Arcee and Jack to be the first ones to go through with Ratchet.

"This time, he's comin' with us," Bulkhead growled. 

Bumblebee jumped through the bridge, then the Wrecker, then Nova, and last of all, Optimus, leaping sideways through the portal just as it faded from view and out of Megatron's reach.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The children were the first ones to greet the Autobots as they walked through the portal, Jack and Arcee first, to the relief of Mrs. Darby, then Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Bulkhead, to whom Miko and Raf ran with joyful tears glistening on their faces. Last of all, in a burst of radiant light and with a half-spark by his side, came the one they had worked and sacrificed and hoped to bring back: Optimus Prime.

Rafael came to look up at the warrior. "Optimus?"

"Hello, Rafael," the Prime said to the littlest with a smile.

"The big guy remembers us!" Miko shouted, "Woohoo!"

Optimus looked at the new Decepticon symbol adorning his shoulder.

"Although it seems there is much I do not remember," he murmured.

Nova sighed, rubbing her neck as Ratchet began to speak.

"Optimus, it has truly been our darkest hour, but know this: from every indication, your Spark never ceased being that of an Autobot."

Nova agreed with a smile as they all gathered around him. There was much work to do, but they would finally be doing it together, and that was what mattered most.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Chapter Text

The hot sun baked the half-spark in her armor, adding more drops of blue-flecked sweat to her messy, plastered hair. The dusty piles of rocks that Nova, Ratchet, and Optimus ducked behind bordered a large pit that staggered into the depths of the valley below. The place was crawling with Vehicon miners, who were toiling away under the supervision of someone much worse.

“Megatron?” Ratchet inquired.

 “It seems you detected the ancient Autobot frequency precisely because it was unearthed,” Optimus speculated as Nova lifted herself up between the stones to get a better look.

“Well, our backup shouldn’t be far behind,” Ratchet said, but Optimus was already rising to his feet.

“Without knowing what the Decepticons have exhumed,” he stated, forming his blasters, “I do not think I am willing to wait.”

Optimus began to walk down the steep slope as Nova and Ratchet followed behind. 

The past few days had been rough. Any opportunity for downtime or rest had been thwarted by the Decepticons, whose recent movements kept the Autobots on their toes.

Everyone back home was tired, irritable, and miserable, and the whole team had the distinct feeling that the Decepticons had more of an advantage than usual. Optimus, of course, blamed himself for this. So far, no one except for Ratchet and Nova had bothered to contradict his worries. It was hard to tell someone they weren't at fault if you secretly think they were. 

As they reached the bottom of the rocky cliffs, Nova caught a glimpse of the artifact the Decepticons had unearthed. It seemed to be a sort of metal urn, and had been placed in Megatron's hands.

“Megatron!” Optimus challenged; his blaster pointed at the Decepticon warlord as he approached. “I cannot allow you to pilfer Autobot relics.”

“Not only are you misinformed, Optimus,” Megatron said, reaching into the pot as the Vehicons trained their blasters on the Autobots, “But I would strongly advise you to lower your weapons … unless you are in the mood for mutually assured destruction.”

He held up the artifact so that they could see.

Nova initially thought he was threatening them with a Cybertronian salad plate, but she quickly sobered when she caught sight of the look on Optimus’ face.

He was rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on the relic. Sharp talons of horror clutched at her Spark as she watched him.

“It can’t be!” Ratchet gasped.

Optimus' eyes remained on the artifact, and his voice carried an edge as he said, “The Spark Extractor.”

Eyes wide, Nova turned to Ratchet. “Does it work as a half-spark extractor, too?”

"Every being within its radius which bears a Cybertronian energy signature is absorbed by the Extractor," Ratchet hurriedly explained. "By all accounts, it is capable of killing you as well."

"Should we run?" Nova whispered, her blood running cold.

Ratchet just shook his head. "It is already too late."

Megatron held the disk out for a second more, allowing them to look upon it as long as they wished.

“Rather unassuming,” he said with a wicked grin. “Yet capable of extracting every Spark within its radius.” 

He turned his gaze on the Prime. “And to think that you led me straight to it, Optimus. Or should I say… Orion Pax did.”

Standing beside Optimus with her blasters cocked, Nova could see the effect Megatron’s venomous words had upon her guardian. His breath came a little slower, his eyes widened above his set jaw, his hands clenched so as not to shake. But Megatron could see it too, and he was not finished.

“You should really have left your Decepticon shield intact,” he taunted, glancing at the Autobot symbol engraved on Optimus’ shoulder. “For you have no idea how useful your code-breaking skills proved to be … during our all-too-brief time together.”

Optimus faltered as Megatron spoke into his comm-link. “Soundwave, send the Groundbridge.”

The Autobots looked up at the blooming portal as it materialized on the rocks above them, and Megatron snarled, “Engage them!”

Immediately, the blasters of the Vehicons rained down red fire upon them, beginning a firefight that echoed through the valley. At their sudden movement, Optimus leapt into action as well, sliding his battle mask over his face and opening his blasters. Nova used the chaos to take down unsuspecting soldiers, leaping up onto their backs and slashing at their heads until they toppled.

Amidst the exchanging waves of laser fire, Optimus and Ratchet suddenly turned to look at the cliffs behind them, out of which sprang a familiar gold-and-black Camaro.

“About time you showed up!” Nova cried, throwing up a fist to hail Bumblebee as he zipped in and out between the legs of the hapless Vehicons.

“Bumblebee, secure the package,” ordered Optimus, directing him toward the still-open Groundbridge into which Megatron had disappeared.

Buzzing a reply, the scout revved up his powerful engine, dodged the legs of one final Vehicon, and shot into the Groundbridge, disappearing in a golden light as Nova placed a hand to her ear.

“Raf, pick us up,” she said, dodging a blast from an especially skilled Vehicon. “Now, please!”

“Roger that,” came the reply. Sure enough, a bright green portal flared to life just beside the Autobots, and Optimus looked to the Decepticon’s Groundbridge to make sure Bumblebee had returned before he ran through himself.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Back at the base, the golden scout reenacted his feats inside the Decepticon Groundbridge to the others, using Raf’s toy car as a model. Weaving the toy through the air, he regaled them with tales of exactly how he had driven up and over Megatron in the tunnel and snatched the relic from his very hands while he was unawares.

“Loop-de-loop, huh?” Arcee said in response to his dramatic beeping as he carefully handed the car back to Raf.

“Heh,” Bulkhead chuckled, slapping his friend on the chest fondly. “you’ve got some brass bearings, Bumblebee.”

“Optimus,” Ratchet called, from where he stood examining the Spark Extractor.

With Nova trotting at his heels, Optimus came over to look at the analysis results that had popped up on the computer screen as the medic pointed to a familiar sign.

“Here,” said Ratchet, looking at the Autobot symbol. “The source of the ancient frequency we detected.”

“An Iacon homing beacon,” the Prime realized.

“What’s an Autobot locator doing on that?” Arcee asked.

Optimus Prime turned to explain to all of them. “The Class-A Decepticon weapons confiscated during the war were sealed within the vaults below Iacon.”

“Where you once worked as an archivist?” Bulkhead clarified.

“Iacon was both a cultural center and a stronghold,” Optimus continued. “Which Megatron raided when Autobot troops were at their nadir*. It stands to reason that in anticipation of Iacon being overrun by enemy forces, these weapons were jettisoned off-world to keep them far from Decepticon reach.”

*(A/N: “nadir” is Optimus-talk for “all-time low.”)

“Clearly, the beacon was added as a safety measure, should the weapons be found by the undesired party,” Ratchet speculated.

Bulkhead laughed. “Well, thanks to our hotshot stunt-driver, this one’s goin’ in our vault,” he said jubilantly.

“Do you … think this is the only intel you supplied to Megatron?” Arcee asked hesitantly to Optimus.

Nova winced as she looked up at her guardian. It was a simple question, but taken the wrong way, it could have been an accusation.

“Arcee, you are right to ask,” Optimus said with difficulty. “And … I am afraid I — do not remember.”

He closed his eyes, overwhelmed with fatigue, and his normally straight shoulders caved a little. He was retreating inward again, surrendering to his fear that he may have doomed them all.

Nova had seen it several times the past few days -- every so often, Optimus would lapse into periods of long, contemplative silence, broken by a sigh and a heavy hand to his face.

Hesitantly, she reached out and put a hand on the side of his leg, patting him a little. She didn’t really know what else to do.

Luckily, Ratchet did.

“Optimus,” the medic said firmly, waiting until his friend looked him in the eyes, “Megatron clearly took advantage of your amnesia. But for all we know, this Spark Extractor is the extent of it.”

He leaned forward, recapturing Optimus’ gaze. “Have you stopped to consider that Megatron might have suggested otherwise, merely to plague your thoughts?”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Lost in thought, Optimus said nothing to Ratchet’s statement of reason, but gave him a short nod.

Satisfied, Ratchet clapped him on the shoulder as best he could and returned to the computer, scanning for more activity.

One by one, the others went back to their various tasks while Nova watched Optimus expectantly, waiting for a statement, a sigh, a smile, anything from her guardian.

He gave her nothing, and walked grimly to the back of the base with her trotting at his heels. Even though he had said nothing, Nova got the distinct feeling that he wanted a word with her. This, of course, filled her with apprehension, and her armor tightened around her chest as she followed him.

“…Don’t blame yourself,” she ventured as he walked on in silence. “Arcee doesn't know what she's talking about.”

Reaching the end of the hallway, he stopped and looked down at her.

“What is it?” Nova asked, twisting her fingers.

What did I do?

“Nova, you were the only one present with me in my captivity,” Optimus said, an edge of stress tugging at his normally calm voice. “Is there any information you can tell me about what occurred?”

“I — I don’t think it would help,” she murmured quietly.

“Nova,” Optimus said, taking a knee and towering above her even then. “In order to ensure the safety of the others, I need to understand exactly how helpful my actions were to the Decepticons. Please tell me.”

Nova sighed, glancing at the ground in resignation as she thought back to that long night she had spent in cramped tunnels, scuttling around fearfully in the dim light.

“You were put to work decoding something,” she said. “I couldn’t hear all of it, but it was linked to Iacon, and you were afraid that its information could lead to weapons of mass destruction.”

Optimus frowned. “Did I mention what kind of weapons?”

"No, but it looked like Megatron really wanted them."

"I see."

“I’m sorry," Nova apologized, seeing his grave expression. "I tried to get us out – I should have done more, I …”

“Do not apologize for giving your all," said Optimus, with an absentminded shake of his head. "You were the only one who remained with me through my darkest hour. I am very proud of you."

She took in a deep breath and wiped her eyes as the Prime got to his feet and continued walking.

“Now,” he said, “Tell me what else occurred during my captivity. We must gather all information concerning my time with our enemies, so that we may be more prepared for Megatron's plans.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Optimus,” Ratchet said, “Bumblebee and Bulkhead have detected another frequency. They are currently en route.”

“Understood,” Optimus said, approaching from behind with Nova on his shoulder. “Are there enemy forces at the location of the frequency?”

“No,” replied the medic. “That’s what is so surprising. It’s as if we were the first ones to discover this relic.”

Nova frowned.

“Almost like it was put there just for us,” she murmured, causing Optimus to turn his head.

“Inform them to proceed, with extreme caution,” ordered the Prime.

Nova frowned, a writhing sense of apprehension in her chest. “I don't like this.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Soon, the Groundbridge opened to let the Autobots back into the base. Both were on foot, and Bumblebee’s face held a desperate look that Nova instantly recognized. She had worn the same expression on many occasions, often when a new piece of armor had protruded from her skin, or when a larger dose of Energon had been administered, and she had wondered how long it would be before she would die.

She trotted up to Bumblebee, standing next to Raf as Bulkhead explained the horrible truth: Bumblebee could no longer transform.

Ratchet, fussing and theorizing as usual, made the scout lie down on the medical table while he ran the laser-scanner over him.

“You can fix Bee, can’t you?” Raf asked from the floor.

“Bumblebee was hit pretty hard,” Ratchet said. “The stun blasts may have fried his T-cog.”

“Is that like a T-bone?” Miko inquired.

Arcee looked down at her. “Not exactly. It’s the organ that allows us to scan vehicles and transform.” She jerked her head at the half-spark. “Nova has one, don’t you, kid?”

“I guess.”

“By the Allspark,” Ratchet gasped, his scanner powering off. “Bumblebee’s T-cog isn’t damaged. It’s missing.”

At his words, the entire base was plunged into silence. Everyone, even Optimus, stood openmouthed at the gravity of the situation.

Shaking, Nova’s mouth ran dry, her face blanching with the realization that she had been right. This was a trap. And she knew exactly who had set it.

“But the Decepticons transform too,” Jack said confusedly. “Why would they steal that?”

Ratchet shook his head in denial. “Megatron may be known to raise zombies, but he’s no ghoul.”

Typical, Nova thought. An evil warlord from a race of alien robots is more humane than people of my own kind.

Optimus turned to look at her, but Nova didn’t notice. She had begun to pace in tight circles, her metal-clad fingers pressed to her chest.

“If Megatron wasn’t behind this,” Raf asked, “Then who was?”

Bulkhead lowered his brows. “The ones who cannibalized Breakdown.”

“And tried to gut me,” Arcee said in disgust.

“The ones who held Nova captive all these years,” Ratchet realized. “MECH.”

Closing her eyes, Nova winced at the sound of that name.

“And it would appear that their knowledge of Cybertronian biotech has grown more sophisticated,” Ratchet said gravely. The fact that they had made a precise surgical incision at the site of Bumblebee’s T-cog and taken it out without a trace is evidence of that fact.

“But why would they want Bumblebee’s part?” Raf wondered.

With an angry buzzing and beeping, Bumblebee sprang from the table and made his intentions perfectly clear.

“Bumblebee, please,” Optimus said, placing a hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eye. “You are not presently … equipped to handle this.”

Indignantly, the scout erupted in a string of beeps profane enough to make Ratchet’s eyes widen.

“You are mistaken, my friend,” Optimus said patiently. “I do know what it is like to lose a vital part of oneself. And, as a result, I know the value of putting one’s faith in the strength of those around you.” He looked up at the others as he finished. “We vow to do everything in our power to make you whole again.”

“And if not, Ratchet can just make you a new cog thing, right?” Miko said.

At her ignorance, Bumblebee groaned and sat back down with his head in his hands.

“What’d I say?” the girl inquired.

Ratchet looked at her reproachfully. “Miko, a T-cog is a bio-mechanism, not a scrapyard find. If it were that easy, don’t you think I would have replaced Bumblebee’s voice box by now?”

A disgusted buzzing and beeping spouted forth from Bumblebee’s makeshift voice as Raf shook his head.

“You’re not useless, Bee.”

The scout did not respond, but hugged his knees and buzzed in a low voice that was not meant to be words.

“All right, all right, I say none of us transform until Bee gats his cog back,” Bulkhead suggested.

“Your Spark’s in the right place, Bulkhead,” Arcee said, “But I don’t think now is the time to be limiting ourselves.”

“Not with Megatron seeking other doomsday devices,” Optimus finished. “And, I fear, not while MECH uses Bumblebee’s T-cog for their own sinister purpose.”

Nova was still strangely silent, and when Optimus finally returned his attention to her, the familiar armored visor hid her face. 

“Nova.”

He stared at her until she raised her head.

“MECH … always has a base,” she said finally, clearing her throat to hide the tremor in her voice. “I don’t know where, or what it will look like, but I do know what to look for. If we begin the search now, we should be able to find them within a week, unless they expect retaliation.”

“Where would we even look?” Bulkhead asked. “It’s not like they tell us where they’re going.”

“No,” she said. “But we do know where they’ve been. They couldn't have set that trap for Bumblebee unless it was within driving distance of their base, and I know where some of their safehouses are.”

She took in a shallow breath, looking slightly away from Optimus’ eyes. “I … have an idea of where I might try looking first.”

“Great, so Nova will look for the base and contact Fowler if she finds anything, while the rest of us will keep tracking the ‘Cons,” Bulkhead agreed. 

“I am not inclined to allow Nova to undertake such an operation alone,” said Optimus, fixing his gaze on her. “She will require assistance.”

“No,” Nova protested, finally meeting his eyes. “I can do it.”

“Just what makes you think so?” Ratchet demanded, folding his arms.

“One-person recon is the only way this will work,” Nova insisted. “Their scanners and early warning systems are very effective. If we send more than one, they might detect us and evacuate.”

“What gives you this idea of where to look first?” Ratchet asked.

She shrugged. “Just experience.”

“Well, experience or no, I am not going to stand here and watch a repeat of what happened before,” Ratchet said, looking at Optimus. “We almost lost our half-spark last time MECH got ahold of her.”

“While finding Bumblebee’s T-cog carries priority, I am in agreement with Ratchet,” Optimus said, looking at her. “In this situation, it is paramount that we enforce proper safety measures, especially where MECH is concerned.”

He had refused to grant her permission. Nova ducked her head. “I understand, Optimus.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The next morning, the base was in a state of uproar.

“Optimus, we’ve looked all over the silo,” Ratchet said. “Nova’s disappeared.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Has the bio-mechanism been transplanted into Project Chimera?”

“Yes, sir,” the agent of MECH replied to his leader. “The Decepticon called Starscream has been most helpful, but he demands that we scout for Blueblood in the surrounding area, in order to provide a more reliable power source.”

“Understood,” Silas replied. “Scramble a unit and prepare to move out.”

“Sir, we’ve just discovered a spike of tachyon emission at the site of our apprehension of the robotic life form,” another agent informed his master as images and measurements flashed on the computer screen.

“Are the surveillance drones still on patrol?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bring up a visual,” Silas ordered.

The agent did so, and an aerial view of the place where Bumblebee was assaulted flashed onto the viewing screen. The sand and rocks, interrupted by the winding road every so often, stretched wide in all directions, the whole area plunged into darkness with only the light of the full moon to shine upon it.

And there, kneeling in the hollow where the downed Autobot had lain, was a human.

“Magnify the image,” said Silas, coming a little closer to peer at the screen. The agent knew that something was wrong when his leader would actually move to do something. Silas didn’t often peer.

“Yes, sir.”

The image increased in size until they could clearly see a young girl, probably seventeen or eighteen, wearing a dark red sweatshirt and blue jeans.

Silas’ mouth turned up in a very slight, smile.

“So, Subject Alpha has been deployed once more,” he muttered. He raised his handheld radio to his mouth.

“Prepare Subject Omega for combat,” ordered the leader of MECH. “The traitor is about to arrive.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova crouched in the dirt and ran her fingers over the ground quietly. The sand and rocks around her had been scuffed up with human tracks, and a large hollow dipped into the ground in the midst of the prints. And near the side of the hollow were three gleaming drops of blue liquid.

“Energon,” she muttered. “Your agents didn’t clean up after themselves, Silas.”

You disobeyed orders. Optimus is gonna kill you. 

"I'll worry about that later," she said aloud. "I have to do this."

She looked around. Except for the tire tracks she knew to be Bulkhead’s, there were no other vehicle marks to be seen.

“Where to go from here?” Nova asked herself. She put a finger to her chin.

If they used a helicopter, it would probably be equipped with an internal-combustion turboshaft engine, she theorized. And since that engine runs on gas, then I should be able to track the exhaust from the residual fuel.

She twisted the knob on the side of her helmet until her visor turned red, and then she could see clearly an invisible cloud of the fumes — a trail leading her onward through the night sky.

“I’m coming, Silas,” she said aloud. “And you’d better be ready for me.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The energy signal pinged on the map of the computer screen, and Bulkhead peered at it intently. After Nova's disappearance, Optimus had ordered the rest of the team to remain at base until he said otherwise. 

“This could be it,” Bulk said to Bumblebee, who was the only other one present. “I’ll alert the others.”

Bumblebee interrupted him, beeping and chirping in protest.

“I know you and I can handle it, Bee, but there’s no reason to—” Bulkhead sighed. “What are you trying to prove?”

The scout made a fist and brought his arm up to his chest confidently, buzzing all the while.

Bulkhead sighed again in resignation. “Fine.”

He lowered the levers to the Groundbridge reluctantly and walked into the portal, Bumblebee close on his heels.

“Clear,” he called back to him as he jumped out the other side, scanner in hand. The scout passed through, coming to stand next to him as the Groundbridge disappeared. They stood in the middle of a dense forest in the noonday sun, the light filtering through the leaves and making patterns on the swept dirt ground.

“I still dunno how you talked me into this,” Bulkhead thrust his finger at him rebukingly. “You’re worse than Miko.”

Buzzing and beeping punctuated Bumblebee’s remarks as he argued, following Bulkhead at a slower pace.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Not every mission ends in a high-speed pursuit. But without your—”

Insulted, Bumblebee glared at him and buzzed angrily.

“Fine. I’ll drop it,” Bulkhead relented. “But if Optimus finds out, this was not my idea.”

Bumblebee buzzed impatiently and waved him off.

They walked forward through the trees, eventually coming to a wall of rock which barred their path. Within the cliff face was an opening, and as they looked upon it, the scanner beeped in Bulkhead’s hand.

“Signal’s coming from over there,” he said, looking at the rock. He stared at it more intensely as the scanner beeped faster.

“And it’s coming our way fast!” Bulkhead readied himself, activating his mace with his right hand.

Sure enough, out of the cave a second later burst the sleek red vehicle mode of Knock Out, churning up dust in his wake.

“Catch me if you can!” Knock Out teased as he sped past them.

“I’ll get him,” Bulkhead growled, turning to chase after the car, but as soon as he turned his back, a thudding came out of the cave, and Breakdown, with his hammer flung back and ready to strike, charged out of the yawning opening, heading directly for Bulkhead.

“O-kay, you get him!” Bulkhead changed his mind, turning around to face his rival and slamming his fists together.

Bumblebee beeped twice and charged after Knock Out as the sounds of the larger Cybertronians’ struggle echoed through the woods.

Once on the paved road a short distance away, Knock Out sped up and pulled gradually ahead of the running Autobot, looking back at Bumblebee in his rearview mirror curiously.

“Sporting of you,” he remarked.

As the faster Decepticon sped away, Bumblebee slowed to a halt and thrust his arms forward in an attempt to fire at the red car with his blasters.

But without his t-cog, the scout’s arms could not transform into weapons, and he lowered his arms in frustration as Knock Out skidded to a stop several yards ahead.

“You’re not even gonna try and shoot out my tires?”

He raised his voice so that the scout, standing dejectedly down the road, could hear his words loud and clear. “Bumblebee, where’s your famous horsepower, eh? Show me some speed!”

He had struck a nerve.

Clenching his fists in determination, Bumblebee sprinted forward and tried in desperation to lock his fingers in the back bumper of the red sports car, but Knock Out let him get very close before peeling away, churning a cloud of dust up in Bumblebee’s face as he stumbled after the Decepticon.

Seeing that he could not continue the pursuit on foot, the scout glanced around until his eyes fell upon a rusted, broken down pickup truck in the lot of an abandoned gas station by the side of the road. He seized it in his hands and shoved it down the asphalt, working up a running start and leaping into the back of the truck bed, causing sparks to erupt from the undercarriage as the truck rolled down the street.

Up ahead, Knock Out glanced in his rearview again.

“What is with the rent-a-car?” Knock Out laughed, revving up his engine forcefully.

Under the unexpected weight, the aged truck began to rattle and shake, and Bumblebee heard a sickening crack from underneath the frame as more sparks skittered along the road. He looked back and reached out helplessly to the severed tire, watching as it bounced out of reach like the rest of his hopes.

“I’d stick around and do some donuts around you, but I’ve got a delivery to make,” Knock Out taunted, with the relic he’d dug up with Breakdown bumping around in the backseat.

With that, he spun his steering wheel full circle, screeching around the bend and disappearing from view. Bumblebee could see the turn coming up towards him, and tried desperately to steer the dilapidated truck around the bend … too late.

The broken fragments and pieces of the shattered guardrails flew left and right into the air as the Autobot and truck both went over the edge, and the loud beep of Bumblebee’s scream echoing through the cliff walls was all you would hear if you had seen him go over the side and blink out of sight.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Armor tight around her spine, Nova peered out at the building she had discovered.

For the past hour or so, she had been walking through the forest in pursuit of any human activity, when she was almost startled out of her wits by a green car as it sped by and rumbled into the compound. She had followed the tracks to a sturdy warehouse in a wide clearing, dimly illuminated by the rising moon.

Nova leaned against a tree quietly. The base looked completely abandoned, set on the slopes of the tree-covered hillside and as quiet as death. If she hadn’t seen tire tracks leading this direction, Nova would have assumed it had not been touched in decades.

“Must be the place,” the half-spark muttered to herself. “I gotta find a way in.”

“Don’t you have a key?” a voice said from behind her. Nova spun around, eyes wide, and came face-to-face with the last person she wanted to see.

“Surprise,” a rough voice said, punching her in the visor.

With a cry, Nova reeled back, her spine slamming painfully against a tree. Her armor flared in pain, nearly coming loose as she shook the stars out of her eyes.

She barely had time to dodge the next blow, twisting her face away at the last instant before a fist embedded itself in the tree, mere inches from her neck.

"How's it going, Molly?" the warrior asked. 

Sucking in a breath and gritting her teeth, Nova whirled away and clenched her fists. “Don’t call me that!”

He lunged forward and slammed her against the tree, and despite her armor, Nova’s breath was knocked out of her. With a growl, Subject Omega grasped her foot and swung her around, sending her body straight into a rock.

Nova hit the stony surface with an audible thud and let out a scream, her head still spinning from the pain as she tumbled to the ground. Before she could get up, her opponent leaped into the air and dropped like a ton of bricks right into Nova’s chest.

“Augh!” Her face crumpled as the force of the impact shot into her spine and rattled her armor horribly. It was all she could do to keep it closed. "Nngh!"

Coby knelt on her chest, bringing his face close enough for her to see the glint of rage in his eyes as he pressed her into the dirt.

“Hello, sis,” he spat venomously, shoving himself away. “Miss me?”

Sucking in a breath, Nova rolled onto her hands and knees as Coby taunted her from above.

“Real pain really hurts, doesn’t it?” Coby reached down, lifted her up by the shoulders and slammed her face-first into the nearest tree.

With a loud crack, the tree split down the middle, and Nova choked out a groan as her brother let her fall to the ground on her hands and knees.

“Let me tell you what really hurts,” he continued, pacing around her slowly. “What really hurts is being left for dead by your own sister.”

“That’s not true,” Nova grunted, raising her head to look at him. “That’s a lie.”

“That’s just what a liar would say,” he growled, seizing her chin in his hand. “But hey, if you surrender now; I’ll let you live long enough to see Silas, and we can have another family reunion. Won’t that be fun?”

“No,” Nova grunted, a trickle of Energon emerging from the corner of her lip. “I’m not going back there again.”

“Then I guess I’ll just kill you now,” he snarled, shoving her backward once again.

But Nova had had enough of being shoved. She spun to the left as Coby’s body flew past her, delivering a blow to his back and sending him down to the dirt.

Leaping to his feet, the Centurion met her gaze and flung out his sword, a black, blue-edged weapon that glowed cruelly in the darkness. In response, Nova let her own sword extend out of her right arm, another radiant, blue-rimmed blade.

“They told me you were dead,” she insisted. “I didn't leave you, Coby.”

He snarled. “You're a liar!”

He leaped at her, his sword whistling through the air as he brought it down on her head. She raised her own sword above her shoulders and blocked his blow, and their blades collided with a ring which echoed through the forest.

“Guess we'll dance it out,” Coby hissed, and flung his blade at her again.

Back and forth their swords flew, flashing in the air at the speed of lightning, clanging and whistling through the air again and again as the former siblings battled. As they exchanged blows, Nova was thankful that Optimus had taken the time to teach her a few things about swordplay, and some of these lessons may indeed have saved her, for when Coby feigned a final blow to her right, swinging around again and thrusting at her left side, she caught his sword just in time and kept her stance firm as their blades crashed together.

He glared at her over their crossed metal as their muscles strained, and at that moment, the weary Autobot half-spark decided to end the struggle.

Nova twisted her blade around his and flung his sword wide, but instead of striking, she raised her proud weapon and let it slide back into her armor, deactivating her gauntlets as she stared at Coby.

“What are you doing?” Coby asked, incredulous. “Get your sword, you coward!”

“I’m trying to get you to listen to me,” Nova said, lowering her trembling hands to her sides and removing her helmet. “I don’t want to fight you anymore, Coby. I never did.”

“Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it?” Coby asked.

Bringing his elbow around, he struck her a vicious blow on the side of the head, and Subject Alpha fell like a stone as the darkness crashed into her mind.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Of all the scrap-brained ideas!” Ratchet growled as he looked at Bumblebee’s still body lying upon the medical table before him. “First Nova, and now you! Taking Bumblebee into a potential chase scenario when he no longer has the ability to access his wheels?!”

“He improvised,” Bulkhead said in defense.

“Hey! Bee’s waking up!” Raf exclaimed, as Bumblebee beep-groaned and sat up shakily, placing a hand to his head.

“You’ve already lost your voice-box and your t-cog,” Ratchet cried, hovering over the table with the formidable fury of a field medic. “Were you really trying to add your Spark to the list?”

Bumblebee buzzed dejectedly, his eyes downcast.

“Don’t say that, Bumblebee,” Raf protested. “You’re not useless!”

Arcee stepped forward and interrupted. “I hate to break up the pity-party, but Nova's still missing, and the ‘Cons just added Unknown Iacon Payday Number Two to their armory.”

The thudding of Optimus’ footsteps came from behind the three of them as he said, “Neither blame nor praise will modify past events, but we cannot afford to take further unnecessary risks. Bumblebee, you are not to leave our base. Not until we can retrieve your missing bio-mechanism.”

With that, he turned and began to walk away, but after a moment of thought, Ratchet followed him.

“Bumblebee is right to be less than hopeful,” he said, with a wary glance over his shoulder at the despondent scout. “But you and I both know there exists a way to make him whole again.”

Optimus paused in his gait. “A transplant. But that would require a donor.”

He began to walk again, but stopped short as Ratchet’s calm voice interrupted.

“You need look no further than the Autobot standing before you.”

The Prime stared at him.

“A generous offer, old friend,” he said finally. “But your solution would merely trade one Autobot’s handicap for another’s.”

“I don’t rely upon my t-cog,” Ratchet argued. “Not like Bumblebee does. The ability to transform is virtually wasted on me.” He gestured to the floor of the base. “This is where I spend my days— where my thoughts and hands are of value; not my weapons or wheels.”

The medic looked at the three Autobots behind him, as Bulkhead placed a comforting hand on Bumblebee’s shoulder. “Our team cannot afford to be shy even one warrior in the field.”

“You make a compelling case,” Optimus allowed. “But know that we will find Bumblebee’s t-cog.”

Ratchet looked up at his old friend with a pleading expression on his face.

“Optimus,” he replied firmly, “MECH are savages; who knows what damage they have already inflicted upon it, or—” His voice broke. “Or if I will be able to repair it…”

His eyes closed and he bowed his head in hopeless despair, but Optimus knew what this was really about.

“Ratchet,” he said after a pause, “You did everything in your power.”

The unsaid understanding in his voice drew the medic's gaze abruptly upward. For a moment, Ratchet’s eyes widened, and his jaw slackened as he realized Optimus had driven right to the heart of his fear.

After a tremulous moment, the medic recovered and averted his gaze, letting out a snort. “Please! Do you really think this is about my inability to restore Bumblebee’s voice-box?”

Optimus said nothing, looking at him steadily.

“I — I just want to do what’s right. For our scout,” Ratchet said finally, raising his eyes to Optimus. “For the team.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova cracked her eyes open slightly.

After a short inspection, the half-spark realized that she had been chained rudely to a small chair in the middle of a large room, her head resting on her chest and wisps of her loose hair tickling her jaw. Her armor had been deactivated.

Not this again…

Through a large viewing window in the far wall of the room, she could see the entirety of the warehouse she just been observing from the forest less than an hour earlier.

Stupid, she thought. I am the biggest idiot to walk the earth. See if I ever do that again.

Before she could try to wrestle her way free, she spotted five more MECH agents entering through the large doors at the front of the warehouse.

At their head was a clean-shaven, scarred man, with hard eyes and a bitter face. Nova bit back a growl at the sight of her five-year tormenter.

Angrily, Nova struggled against her bonds, but suddenly felt a hand ruffle her hair.

“Ah-ah,” Coby warned in a low voice. “You don’t want to try it. Believe me.”

A few minutes later, sending the roaring sound of jet engines reverberating through the forest, the familiar form of Starscream streaked into the warehouse and transformed, landing before Silas with a characteristic chuckle.

“What is he doing here?”

“Wait, and watch.” The Omega Centurion placed a casual but firm hand on her shoulder as he turned her chair to face the window. “And you may see something fun.”

“Command your troopers to bring the Energon inside,” Starscream ordered, his voice penetrating the wall easily. “So that we may begin production of our army.”

Nova saw Silas glare at him, and Starscream hurriedly changed his words. “Your army.”

“My army will not be a success if I have to deal with associates who do not stop talking and ruin my plans,” Silas said back.

As ever, his voice was quiet and composed, one of the things Nova hated most about him. He never raged, never reacted. All her efforts to make him angry at her always resulted in a curt nod to his lackeys, and in the awful silence the torture would begin.

On the arms of the chair, her fingers balled into fists, and her captor laughed harshly.

“Man, you really hate him, don’t you?” Coby teased.

Nova ignored him, gritting her teeth and watching the events outside intently.

“If I am to be an … associate to this rather difficult undertaking, I believe my suggestions merit a little more consideration on your part, my dear flesh creature,” Starscream chuckled, leering down at the humans. “Of course, if there was a point in which I would decide to discontinue our partnership, then this planet would be a few dozen idiots short.”

“Unload the substance,” Silas ordered the nearest agent, and with a furtive glance up at the leering Decepticon, the minion scrambled to do his work.

“You see? I believe my presence may solve any efficiency issues around here very quickly,” Starscream smiled down at the MECH leader, who gave no response and stalked toward the room where Nova sat.

With a shrug, Starscream followed him, kneeling down in front of the little door and peering inside the window.

“Ah, I see the half-breed is still alive,” he chuckled, tapping on the glass and grinning evilly. “Hello, little one.”

Nova kept silent, but she cringed involuntarily as the Decepticon ran his talons down the window, the glass screeching under the scrape of his claws.

Starscream laughed, delighted with her disgust.

“That’s enough,” Silas ordered. “Inform the lead scientist that we are to fuel the subject once the Energon is processed and resume testing.”

“As you wish, my flesh-covered friend.” Starscream sneered once more at Nova as he got to his feet and walked away. “I will be sure to tell Prime what happened to you, little sparkling — if he ever thinks to ask about you. Have fun!”

“No!” Nova growled, jerking at the chair. Coby thrust out his sword and placed the hot blade to her neck, discouraging any further movement.

Silas calmly strode forward and slapped her in the face, provoking her cry of pain and triggering her armor reflex. Tight metal snapped over her head and shoulders, and the older man took her chin in his hands, lifting her head and looking her over appraisingly.

“Fine craftsmanship,” he said, letting her head fall. “To think what the knights in the Middle Ages would have done to gain armor like yours.”

“Give me the cog you took from the Titan,” Nova demanded. “Right now.”

“I’m afraid that is not possible,” Silas said diplomatically, folding his hands and placing them on the table as he addressed her. “For I am putting it to better use.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Nova demanded. “How did you get this Decepticon to help you?”

“Your questions are well-placed, my former warrior,” the scarred man said. “But I have a few questions of my own.”

He stood up from the table. “This is your final chance to cooperate. Where is the location of the Cybertronian base?”

“Frag you,” Nova seethed.

With a curt nod, Silas stood up from the table. “Terminate her.”

“Yes, sir!” Coby placed his blade to Nova’s neck again, but before he could draw it across, her armor snapped over her arms, breaking the chains around her wrists. Reaching back, she seized his hand and wrenched the blade aside as her foot shoved the chair into Coby’s legs and caused him to fall to the ground.

With a roar, Nova leaped towards Silas, whipping out her blades, but the half-spark jerked to a stop as Coby seized her by the shoulders, hurling her to the floor. Her head smacked against the concrete, sending her into a dizzy burst of pain. 

“I can handle this, sir,” Coby said, as Silas turned toward the door. “Continue the test phase, and I will terminate the traitor."

Silas nodded, walking out the door and shutting it behind him.

“No!” Nova leapt up and lunged after him, her hand an inch away from the doorknob, but just as her gauntleted fingers brushed the handle, a blue-rimmed blade slapped down on her palm with a clink.

“Just you and me now, Moll,” Coby hissed into her ear.

Nova removed her hand from the knob and let her arms fall to her sides, fighting back tears.

“I don’t want to fight you, Coby,” she whispered, her voice choked with sobs. “I’m trying to help you.”

“You’re weak,” Coby growled. “You can't even kill me.”

He leaned closer, hissing in her ear, “You’re a coward.”

Nova clenched her fists, trembling. “I told you before, I only left because I didn’t know you were alive.”

“Really?” Coby asked, shoving her away from the door. “You didn’t watch during my first injection? You didn’t stand and stare as they started experiments on me?”

Nova shook her head, her lip shaking. “No, no, never! I never saw you!”

“I saw you!” Coby yelled. “I saw you every day. They used you to keep me quiet. You knew what they were doing to me. And you still left!”

Tears rolling down her face, Nova shook her head. “No, no, that’s not what happened!”

“Lie to yourself all you want!” Subject Omega thrust his blade out at her as she backed toward the table. “You can’t change the past, Nova.” He slid the edge of the blade beneath her chin. “And you can’t change me.”

She flung out her own blade and swept it up to meet his, slamming his sword away and straining against it as her eyes widened behind her visor. “Please don’t do this…”

Omega struck out at her face, making Nova reflexively jerk back, and in her moment of imbalance he leapt forward and barreled her into the wall.

Immediately, the flimsy metal on the opposite side of the room caved in, and the siblings burst into the outer air, tumbling out at the feet of the darkened hills and night sky.

Terrified, Nova sprang to her feet and sprinted away, charging up the nearby hill with all her might as Subject Omega roared out in rage behind her.

As she ran, Nova formed her helmet and placed two fingers to the side of her head.

“Agent Fowler,” she panted as the trees flew by her. “Agent Fowler!”

“Who is this?”

“I’ve found the location of an unidentified MECH base. I’m in need of assistance.”

“Great jumpin’ Jefferson, kid! Where are you?”

“I’ll send you my coordinates,” she huffed, breathlessly pressing a few buttons on her vambrace as she crashed through the forest. “I’m somewhere in Oregon, I think. Use the satellite feeds for this sector and find images of an abandoned warehouse. That should give you all the proof you need. And tell Optimus that Starsc—”

Suddenly, a dark figure dropped out of the air directly in front of her with his blade extended, nearly spearing Nova through.

“Kid? Kid! What’s goin on?”

Gasping and staggering to a stop on her tiptoes, her chest inches away from the sword, Nova stumbled back and gaped at the figure before her.

“Going somewhere?” Coby asked.

Nova shut off the comm-link.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Optimus, Arcee, and Bulkhead stepped out of the Groundbridge, surveying the blue skies and icy slopes which greeted them, and the Prime raised the scanner in his hand to point them in the right direction.

They had discovered another relic signal whilst Ratchet and Bumblebee had been in the middle of preparing for t-cog transplant surgery, and the unwilling surgeon Arcee was forced to cease the operation before she had even put Bumblebee under stasis.

Now, all three Autobots, minus the patients back at base, were pursuing the relic alone, with only their scanner and their skill to guide them, because no one could be prepared for what the Decepticons would unearth next.

The Prime had been silent for the entire mission thus far, stonily following the scanner with a tight frown upon his features. As the scanner confirmed the relic's presence, he raised his eyes to the mountain, and Arcee followed his gaze.

“The signal’s coming from up there,” she said, pointing to the peak of the mountain in front of them.

“Oh, great,” Bulkhead muttered. “We’re gonna have to climb that thing, huh?”

“Yeah,” Arcee replied.

“And there’s ‘Cons at the top waiting for us?”

“Yep.”

The Wrecker bashed his fists together and grinned. “Last one to the top is Scraplet bait.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Prime!” The incoming transmission to the Autobot Outpost Omega One was heralded with a beeping signal as Agent Fowler’s face flashed onto the screen. “Breaking news!”

Bumblebee skidded to a stop in front of the computer, buzzing and beeping excitedly.

“Huh?” Fowler’s face registered his surprise as he demanded, “Where’s Prime?”

Bumblebee tried to explain that Optimus had gone to find another relic, but his words were lost on the human, who pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Look,” he said, very slowly and carefully, as if Bumblebee couldn’t understand English. “Let him know … I just received access … to satellite imagery … which I believe pinpoints the center operations… of MECH.”

Bumblebee’s eyes widened with the realization, and he buzzed very slowly and deeply.

He began to talk again, asking the human rapid-fire questions, and Fowler’s face twisted in frustration as he threw up his hands.

“Oh, for the love of — Get me someone who speaks something other than bleep!”

“I can help!” Raf piped up eagerly from the human corner.

“What?!” Ratchet roared from the medical table, making them all jump. “Do I hear a Fuzor in need of voice box repair?!”

Ratchet was still waking up from stasis.

“What’s a … fuzor?!” Fowler yelled incredulously. “What’s goin’ on over there?”

All eyes went to Ratchet, who struggled to sit up on the medical table to address someone who was probably not there.

“I am able! Just ask Bantor! He wuz all mandrill before I putta … tiger in his tank!”

He flopped back down to the table again, and Agent Fowler was speechless with disbelief as he stared openmouthed at the scene unfolding.

In the silence, Bumblebee beeped up at Raf insistently.

“But, Bee, you heard what Optimus said about leaving the base,” Raf replied. Bumblebee responded with pleading gestures and buzzes that were hard to refuse, while Jack looked up at Agent Fowler, still on the screen.

“Send the coordinates, Agent Fowler. We’ll … make sure Optimus gets them.”

Fowler raised an eyebrow suspiciously at the boy, but he knew that both Nova and the Autobots were running out of time.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Jarring pain raced up Nova's spine again as her body hit the tree, and she fell to the ground with a ragged groan.

“Had enough yet?” Coby asked from above. "How much can one idiot take?"

She grunted in response as he lifted her up by the shoulder and shoved her against the tree’s trunk.

“You’re …” she coughed. “You’re really gonna kill me…”

“Oh yeah,” Coby growled. “You’re about to suffer all the pain I suffered for five long years. But you know what the greatest pain is?” He yanked her close, glaring into her eyes. “Knowing for certain that nobody will come to rescue you.”

With a great effort, Nova kicked out at him, catching him in the gut and shoving him away from her. He got up in a rage as she flung out her sword and readied herself.

“It’ll take more than that to kill me, Coby.”

Suddenly, a flaring green light erupted in the middle of a clearing, and a Groundbridge swirled wide. Subject Omega spun around to look back at the base, and saw a golden colored figure advancing toward the huge doors in the moonlight.

“No!” He lunged forward, and Bumblebee turned his head in surprise at hearing the noise.

“Coby, no!” Nova grasped him about the shoulders and wrestled him to the ground as Bumblebee looked up at the two of them.

“Bumblebee!” Nova called. “Your t-cog’s inside! Watch out for—”

Before she could finish, Coby slammed his fist up into her face.

Knowing he was short on time, Bumblebeeput up his own fists and began to beat down the door, punching it until it gave way with a huge crash and a cloud of dust.

“You idiot! The project will be ruined,” Coby hissed at Nova, throwing her off his back. “And as usual, it’s all your fault!”

He formed his blaster on his wrist, turned, and began to stalk down the hill.

“No, Coby, stop!” Nova pushed herself off the ground as the sounds of bullets and screams erupted from the hole in the warehouse door. “You can’t go in there!”

He turned to look at her, a wild look in his eyes. “And you can’t tell me what to do!”

His blaster swung around towards her as he unleashed a barrage of lasers in her direction, peppering the ground with blue laser-scorches.

Nova felt herself beginning to lose her temper. Tackling him with a furious lunge, she sent them both barreling down the hillside and tumbling into one of the smaller buildings adjacent to the main warehouse. The wall crashed in on itself as the siblings tumbled into it, sending plumes of dust into the air.

“Coby! Stop!” Nova growled, pinning him to the ground as best she could, glancing up at the building before her. Through the hole in the door, she could see flashes of gunfire and could hear the shouts and thuds of humans flying through the air. Coby struggled, flinging out his elbows, trying to punch her again.

“Stop fighting me!” Nova growled. “Don’t you understand?! I’m not your enemy!”

“I hate you!” Coby roared, writhing underneath her. “Let me go!”

“No!” Nova braced herself against his neck and pinned him to the dirt. “Coby, listen to me! Silas is using you. You will only be his second-in-command as long as you obey him. Do you understand? Just once, refuse to do what he says, and see what happens! See how quickly he turns on you!”

With another roar of anger, the Omega Centurion muscled her off his chest and kicked her viciously into the wall of the cliff.

The rock face crumbled around Nova’s limp body as she slid downward. Coby jerked her up by the neck, and she groaned aloud, her hands clutching feebly at his taut arm as it forced her upward.

“You can’t lie to me anymore,” he seethed, his grip getting tighter and tighter around her neck with every word. “You can’t run, and you can’t hide. I can find you anywhere.”

Wild-eyed, Nova gasped as she realized how he had found her in the woods. She had tracked him across the country, and he had known where to find her. He could find her even under the protection of the Autobot base.

“You … you knew where I was, too?”

“I can sense you anywhere, runt," he growled. "Our mechanics are connected through kinship. Silas tested it on us when we were kids. If you’d stayed and followed his teaching, you could have learned that.”

His eyes grew dark as he glared at her. “But you didn’t stay. You left and joined the enemy. You think you’re some kind of alien-loving hero?” The Omega Centurion laughed harshly. “You’re nothing but a coward. You were afraid to come find me, weren’t you?”

Nova's eyes widened again. Summoning all her strength, she raised her feet off the ground and struck him full force in the chest, causing him to release her and fall to the ground.

“I am afraid,” she growled quietly as she stood over him. “I’m afraid I might have to kill you.”

Tears began to run down her cheeks. “Prove me wrong.”

He glared at her as the MECH agents began to run out of the warehouse with Silas at their head.

“All units, regroup!” Silas called. “The area has been compromised. Fall back to the rendezvous point.”

“Don’t go with them, Coby,” Nova pleaded one more time, holding out her hand. “Come with me. We can be a family again. Please, Coby!”

He got to his feet before her, a look of hatred in his eyes.

“My name is not Coby,” he growled.

He turned away and ran to catch up with the group, and Nova watched them go up the hill and disappear from sight among the trees. There was an eerie silence as an owl hooted.

“Bumblebee,” she realized, and sprinted towards the warehouse.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The medic’s eyes opened wearily as he came out of stasis, and he sighed softly as he sat up on the table and stood on his feet, walking towards the console in the middle of the base.

The three children were already there, standing at the railing attentively.

“Hey, Ratchet. How’re ya feeling?” Jack asked.

Ratchet, surprised, looked himself over and tested his joints and actuators tentatively.

“Fine,” he said in disbelief. “In fact, I feel as though … nothing’s changed.”

He was confused to see the children exchange glances between themselves, as if they knew something he didn’t, but he had no time to think about it. A beeping came from the computer, indicating that a message was incoming from Agent Fowler.

“Prime,” Fowler said, his face appearing on the screen.

“What is it, Agent Fowler?” Ratchet asked.

“Has Prime reached the coordinates?” Fowler demanded.

Ratchet screwed up his face in confusion. “Coordinates?”

“Possible MECH location!” Fowler explained frustratedly. “I sent ‘em a half-hour ago!”

Jack scrambled to answer. “Uh, don’t worry, Agent Fowler, it’s … taken care of.”

“Optimus had to go lock fenders with some ‘Cons,” Miko put in.

“So … Bumblebee went instead,” said Raf, with a nervous glance at the medic.

“What?!” Ratchet shouted, turning to the children. “Bumblebee can’t do that! He’s recovering from surgery!”

“About that…” Raf began, launching into the story.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“You let her get away?” Silas demanded, standing before his half-spark in the middle of the wooded clearing.

“Sir, I was given the order to regroup before I could finish her,” Subject Omega said, standing at attention.

“Idiot,” Silas bit out. “She can sense your presence anywhere on the globe. As long as she is alive, she remains a threat to our plans.”

Coby’s shoulders slumped a little. “I understand, sir.”

“Arkeville modified you to be the superior subject,” Silas said, folding his arms and glaring out at the young man. “For your sake, you should not fall short of our expectations.”

Coby looked up. “Sir?”

“If you fail me again,” Silas clarified, coldly. “I will decommission you permanently. There must be no room for error in this unit. Is that understood?”

Taken aback, Coby’s hands began to shake. “But--”

“Complete the mission you are given,” Silas repeated, lowering his brows. "Am I clear?"

Coby straightened, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. “Yes, sir.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova peered into the hole in the warehouse door, watching the events unfolding inside. Starscream, holding Bumblebee’s precious t-cog in one hand and his wicked red blaster in the other, stared down the golden scout with a malicious glare in his eyes. Behind them, which gave Nova quite a shock, stood a robot. A very large, Transformer-sized robot, with hands that seemed … familiar to her. 

Where had she seen those hands before?

Bumblebee buzzed angrily at the Decepticon, threatening him in his makeshift voice, and Starscream grinned.

“Or you’ll what?” he taunted. “Shoot?”

Bumblebee’s eyes narrowed in a glare that would have fried the circuits of any electric computer, and Starscream continued goading him as Nova placed two fingers to the side of her head and crept inside, inching toward the main console.

“How sad, to be incapable of achieving vehicle mode,” he sneered, tossing the t-cog into the air and catching it mockingly. “Experiencing the sensation of speed? How very pathetic — to be a failure as an Autobot.”

Bumblebee’s glare intensified. Starscream had gone too far, and as he lunged at the Decepticon, Nova whispered into her comm-link.

“Ratchet, this is Nova. I know I said I wouldn’t send any transmissions to base, but this is important. Do you copy?”

“Nova? Where are you?”

“I’m at the MECH base location which I told Agent Fowler about,” she said. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“I tried to tell ‘em, but these Auto-bozos were out on some relic-finding mission and the disabled kid went instead!” Fowler’s voice on the other com link came into her ear loudly.

“Why did you send Bumblebee?” Nova hissed. “He and Starscream are about to go berserk over his t-cog, and he has no weapons yet! Ratchet, how soon can you get Optimus and the others over here? We need help right now!”

“I’ll contact Optimus now,” came the reply. “They will be en route soon, but you and Bumblebee will have to hold out until they arrive. Make sure MECH and Starscream keep their hands off that t-cog!”

“I’ll try,” Nova said. “I just — oh no!”

“What is it? What’s happened?”

Bumblebee had managed to knock the t-cog out of Starscream’s hands while Nova spoke to Ratchet, but as the cog had shot through the air, nearly landing in the Autobot’s very grasp, the Decepticon had taken aim, fired, and hit the t-cog squarely in the center, blasting it out of the air in a burst of fire and smoke.

With a sickening crash, the smoldering, blackened t-cog landed directly in front of Nova’s hiding place, and Bumblebee raised his head from where he had fallen on the floor to look at it in despair.

“Time to jet, because I can!” Starscream shrieked, leaping out of the hole in the warehouse roof and shooting into the sky.

Brokenly, Bumblebee fell to his knees in front of his precious transformation device and picked it up gently in his hands, his eyes trembling in sadness.

Nova stood stock-still for a moment, murmuring to herself, “No, no, no…”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Starscream transformed in midair and landed directly in front of Silas in the midst of the trees as the MECH leader looked out upon the quiet of the warehouse.

“My t-cog?” Silas asked the Decepticon, noticing that his hands were empty.

“Yes, that,” Starscream said indifferently, looking out at the base with his hands on his hips. “Unfortunately, it was destroyed during the ferocity of battle.”

Silas’ brow lowered and hid his eyes in shadow as he glared at the Decepticon, with Subject Omega at his side. He had run out of patience.

“Eh, a temporary setback,” Starscream excused himself nervously. “Other Autobots; other T-cogs. We shall find a replacement soon enough.”

“Not ‘soon enough,’” Silas replied as his soldiers raised their stun weapons. “Now.”

The weapons charged up, and soon the torturous sounds of Starscream living up to his name echoed through the forest and reverberated through the hills.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova placed a hand on the scout’s foot gently. “Bumblebee, I’m … I’m so sorry.”

There was no response. The scout could only stare at the cog in his hands in hopeless silence, not even bearing to look at her.

“Maybe Ratchet can repair it,” Nova said, trying to put confidence in her voice. “It’ll be all right.”

Somber buzzing and beeping interrupted her.

“Don’t say that!” Nova snapped. “Just because Ratchet couldn’t fix your voice box doesn’t mean he can’t do better.”

The scout whirred in a robotic sigh, his wings drooping in resignation as Nova stood in front of him.

“You’re not an Autobot because of your wheels, Bumblebee,” she told him. “You’re one of us no matter what. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you this whole time.”

He gave a long, slow beep, the saddest sound she’d ever heard him make before. The look in his face told her everything. He had lost a part of himself, and with it, he had lost all his hope.

Nova sighed and sat down next to him. “Well, if it helps, you aren’t the only one who can’t get something back. I’m a failure, too.”

He beeped a dull response, cradling his cog tenderly, thinking of what could have been different, somehow, someway, if he had just done better.

Seeing that he wasn’t in the mood to talk, Nova got to her feet and began to search the warehouse.

A brief inspection was enough to tell her that all the computers were dead. She assumed that the MECH agents had crashed the hard drives before they evacuated, according to their usual methods. Then, she peered up at the unfinished robot hanging in the back of the base. She had no idea how they had known enough to build something so complex, but she knew what it was for.

Silas was planning to manufacture an army of these — an army which could only spell doom for anyone who stood in his way.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The Groundbridge burst open in the darkness of the clearing, and Optimus charged through, along with Arcee and Bulkhead.

Seeing that the facility was abandoned, the Prime removed his battle-mask and proceeded to approach the building, which had a blackened, warped hole in its doors.

Out walked Bumblebee, cradling his t-cog in his hands with utmost care, his wings drooping in sadness. An ashamed half-spark trotted at his feet.

The scout beeped sadly as the three others gazed upon the device in his hands.

Optimus placed two fingers to the side of his head. “Ratchet, reopen the Groundbridge, and prepare for surgery.”

“Thanks to me, Megatron’s got the Forge,” Bulkhead bemoaned.

“While we would have put the Forge of Solus Prime to valuable use,” Optimus replied. “I do not believe we have reason to fear Megatron’s possession of it.”

“Why not?” Arcee asked.

“Because a relic such as this one can only be activated by the power of the Matrix of Leadership,” Optimus explained. “And thus, only a Prime can wield it.”

The Groundbridge bloomed behind them as Bulkhead chuckled. “Huh. I guess Megatron’s figuring out all he got his hands on was just another heavy hammer.”

Bumblebee buzzed a quiet question, asking what all the fuss was about. 

“The Forge of Solus Prime,” Arcee replied. “It was the latest relic the ‘Cons took. It has the ability to make or repair anything we can dream of, as long as Optimus holds it, of course.”

“But it’s gone, and all we’ve got is a broken t-cog to show for it,” Bulkhead groaned again as they walked into the Groundbridge. “This has been a long day.”

Her face downcast, Nova hung back, reluctant to join the group as Optimus ushered them into the portal. 

The last Autobot finally disappeared into the portal, and then the half-spark was alone with the Prime. 

"Come here," he ordered quietly. 

Trembling, she stepped forward and stood before him, cradling her arm in her hands as she kept her eyes on the dirt. 

The silence was unbearable. She had imagined him yelling at her, but this was much worse. 

"Uh," she began, clearing her throat with an awkward chuckle. "Funny seeing you here."

He stared at her.

"Uhm... sorry about your hammer?" Nova ventured, trying to relieve the pressure. 

He did not say a word.

"Okay! I shouldn't have done it," she blurted out, raising her tearful head. "I know you told me not to, and I know it was dangerous, but I had to try and stop them from ruining the T-cog. And! And I found out why they stole it!" She gestured to the empty warehouse. "See! They're building something. There you go. MECH intel, straight from the source."

The way Optimus looked at her was nearly enough to break her heart.

"I was trying to help the team!" she cried. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I want to care for you," he said at last.

She stopped, her eyes welling up with tears. 

"I want to protect you from those who would use you for their own personal gain," he continued. "Putting yourself in danger also puts your guardian in danger--" here he knelt down to speak directly to her. "--because there is nothing I would not do to bring you home."

Ashamed, Nova's face fell, along with some of her tears. 

"I'm sorry."

Optimus stayed where he was. 

"The others have disobeyed my instructions before, and I realize that you may have learned this behavior from them, but I need to know that you will obey my command," he insisted. "I need to trust you to be dependable."

She nodded. "I can. I will."

"Very well," he said, rising and turning toward the bridge. "Let us go home."

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Later, as the Autobots gathered around the medical table in silence, Ratchet closed the vital scanner on his arm and turned away from Bumblebee slowly.

“I — did what I could,” he said quietly, looking at the ground. Optimus came forward and placed a hand on the medic’s shoulder.

“Our scout could not have been in better hands, old friend.”

“And we didn’t stick with Plan A and let Ratchet donate his cog, why?” Miko asked Jack quietly, from where the four humans stood on the ground.

“Bumblebee wouldn’t accept it,” Jack replied.

They all looked up as a groggy buzzing noise came from the table and Bumblebee tried to stand up on his feet.

“Bumblebee, easy!” Ratchet cautioned.

The scout, however, beeped loudly and rolled his shoulders, striking a pose as he told the medic that he felt just fine.

“Please, recovery takes time,” Ratchet warned, gesturing his hands uselessly.

Bumblebee held his arms out in front of him readily and tried to transform, the plates shifting on his body slightly. But the plates bounced back to where they had been before, leaving him to beep out a question as he looked at himself in confusion.

“The damage was … severe,” Ratchet said gravely, shaking his head.

But the scout would not give up. He tried again, activating his t-cog once more, and when the plates shifted and failed to change he slumped his shoulders in sadness.

Then, in a final effort, he clenched his fists, tensed his whole body and tried for the last time — and finally, the familiar whrr-tchz-tchz-tchz-chk noise resounded through the base as he transformed into his vehicle form and triumphantly revved up his engine. A huge smile broke out on Ratchet’s face as Bumblebee beeped to Raf, who whooped for joy and laughed aloud along with the other kids.

Bumblebee screeched his tires as he turned around and opened the door for Raf, buzzing with a honk of his horn.

“Anywhere!” Raf replied in elation, breaking free of the joyous group and jumping into the passenger seat. “Just — drive!”

Bumblebee obliged, his rubber tires churning up smoke as he tore out of the base, Raf waving from the front seat.

“Go easy!” Ratchet called after them, letting loose a laugh of unconfined joy. “Adhere to standard break-in procedure!”

“Whoa,” Bulkhead chuckled in amazement. “Bee’s t-cog looked like it was ready for the scrapyard.”

“Hard to believe the doc repaired it,” Arcee said admiringly.

Optimus looked at the jubilance of the medic before him, then at the half-spark at his feet. “That is not all that Ratchet repaired today.”

Ratchet stood with his hands proudly on his hips as the others looked on, their pride evident as well.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“And when did this start happening?” Ratchet asked the girl on the medical table.

“I think a little before Unicron came,” Nova responded, trying to hold still under the scanner. “When I had that really weird feeling, remember?”

Ratchet sighed. “Yes, I remember.”

“I felt like something horrible was going to happen,” Nova said, looking up at the ceiling. “And when Unicron began to wake up and Optimus got hurt, it was … worse,” she continued, trying to force down the memory. “I could feel all of it. It was like I knew what was happening to him, or something.”

“Interesting,” Ratchet said. “It seems his battlefield injuries affect you.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Nova sat up as the scanner switched off. “Do you know why?”

Ratchet turned to her. “I do not know for sure, but as far as I can tell, you gained this new ability after Optimus exposed you to the energy of the Matrix,” he said.

“So?”

“Let me finish. You could not have known about Unicron’s arrival, but it is said that the Matrix is supernaturally linked to the wisdom of Primus himself, and when you received a portion of its power, apparently you were endowed with the ability to sense Unicron’s return.

“And because you were also exposed to Optimus’ Spark, you apparently retained some sort of link to him which allowed you to share his pain,” Ratchet continued, “Which means that at any given time, the combined weight of any severe injuries could kill you.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Chapter Text

Beep beep beep.

“PRIME!! What in blazes are your people doing out here?!”

Nova covered her ears at the volume of Agent Fowler’s voice as it erupted from the computer.

“We had an agreement!” Fowler continued as the Autobots gathered around. “No collateral damage!!”

“I am sorry, Agent Fowler,” Optimus denied, gesturing to the Autobots around him. “But all Autobots are present and accounted for.”

“Then explain to me why I’m receiving reports of two jumbo-sized ‘bots mixing it up twenty miles outside Ohio?”

“Decepticons?” Ratchet inquired.

“There has been a lot of infighting lately,” agreed Arcee. “Megatron can’t seem to keep his ranks in line.”

“I’m just arriving on the scene,” explained Fowler, leaning back in his jet cockpit seat restraints. “Have a look.”

An image of a miniature war zone popped up on the computer from the aerial view of the helicopter. The camera zoomed in on one opponent, obviously a Decepticon, but a Decepticon who looked familiar to Bulkhead.

“I dunno,” he said. “Paint job aside, it can’t be Skyquake. You and Optimus pounded him into the ground.”

“Before Starscream yanked him back out as some kind of undead Terrorcon,” Arcee pointed out. “The question still stands; who’s the dance partner?”

“Who’s Skyquake?” Nova wanted to know.

“Later,” Ratchet said, fixing his eyes on the image as it zoomed in on the other Cybertronian, who ducked behind his ship to return fire against the Decepticon.

“By the Allspark! It is one of ours!” Ratchet realized.

“Wheeljack?” Bulkhead laughed and slammed his comrades heartily in the back. “He-hey! Jackie’s back!”

“I don’t care if Abraham Lincoln’s back!” Fowler yelled angrily. “We have to contain this situation before we all wind up on the eleven-o’clock news!”

His face blipped out of sight, and Nova turned to Optimus.

“So, what do we do?” she asked.

Optimus set her down on the platform. “Ratchet will remain at base and monitor communications,” he ordered. “The rest of us will aid Wheeljack.”

“Finally!” Nova scrambled down the stairs and skidded to a stop in front of the Groundbridge. “What are we waiting for? Let's go!”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The first thing Nova saw when she stepped out of the Groundbridge was a white and green warrior kneeling on the ground in the darkness, a blast mark fresh on his shoulder, and as the team split up to surround the mysterious Decepticon, she saw Agent Fowler’s jet flying overhead.

The Decepticon began to fire ruthlessly upon Bulkhead and Optimus, who were charging down the grassy strip to his left, making the night air light up with flashes of red laser fire. Bulkhead returned the attack with a few shots of his own, and Nova, running by Optimus’ side, saw the warrior withdraw as the two Autobots reached the fallen wrecker.

“Jackie!” Bulkhead cried, reaching down to support Wheeljack, who grunted in pain when his arm was jostled. Optimus looked at the two of them briefly, ensuring that the warrior would last, and Wheeljack grinned up at him.

“What took you?”

Meanwhile, Arcee and Bumblebee were taking heavy fire near the gasoline station, but so far had been able to hold their own, and the Decepticon retreated to hide behind a building when he noticed a jet airplane flying overhead.

“That will do,” he said, and Nova saw two green laser beams shoot out of his eyes as he scanned Fowler’s plane, and the agent’s irritated yell burst out of the comm-link.

“Aaugh, not this again!”

Once the scanners had done their work, Dreadwing shut them off and began to run in the opposite direction.

From Nova’s position, Wheeljack drew his blaster and leapt to his feet. “Oh, no, you don’t!”

“Wheeljack!” Optimus warned.

“Jackie, no!” Bulkhead shouted, but it was too late. Wheeljack opened fire on the Decepticon, and one of his stray lasers hit a fuel pump underneath the roof of the old station.

It was a magnificent explosion, the plume of vibrant fire billowing hundreds of feet upwards, and through the flames, the Autobots saw the Decepticon’s new winged form blast out of the smoke and streak off into the sky with a fading roar.

Wheeljack sent a few more shots after the Seeker in a last-ditch effort to stop him, but the Decepticon was too fast, and disappeared into the night.

“Dreadwing rigged the place to blow,” he said, frustratedly deactivating his blasters as Bulkhead came to his side.

“Dreadwing?” Bulkhead asked, but was interrupted by Arcee.

“Actually, that was your handiwork, Sparky,” she said, scowling up at him.

“It’s called a gas station,” explained Bulkhead. “Kinda like an Energon depot. Doesn’t mix well with blaster fire.”

“Huh. Well, our ‘Con’s getting away,” said Wheeljack, turning to go.

The Wrecker was halted by Optimus, who stood directly in his path. “Wheeljack, there are other considerations.” His voice became grave. “While upon this world, you would do well to follow my lead.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Back at the base, Wheeljack squirmed and jerked away from Ratchet’s welding flame.

“Ow! Take it easy, Doc. I need that arm.”

“Hold still and maybe you’ll keep it,” Ratchet responded, turning on the welder again.

"Ha!" Nova chortled. "He also calls you stupid names. I like this new one, old man."

"Not now, Nova," Ratchet sighed. 

Wheeljack turned to Optimus as the medic resumed his work. “Look, Commander, apologies for the fireworks. Won’t happen again. But I’ve tracked Dreadwing across a hundred lightyears of space.”

“I thought you were roaming the galaxy, yunno, searching for Autobot refugees,” Bulkhead said.

“I was, ’til I found one,” Wheeljack responded, bowing his head. “A Wrecker.”

“Who?!” Bulkhead asked excitedly.

“Seaspray,” responded Wheeljack, with no joy in his voice.

“Ha!” Bulkhead roared in glee. “How is ol’ Barnacle Butt?”

“Not so good, Bulk,” responded his friend, glancing at him through the sparks of the welding flame. “Blown to bits, actually.”

“What?” Bulkhead stepped back, appalled. “No...”

“Dreadwing,” Optimus realized.

Wheeljack began to tell the tale. “My flyer, the Jackhammer, picked up his signal a couple of light years from Madera. We made contact, and arranged a rendezvous in the Dromadon system. But Dreadwing must have intercepted the transmission, ‘cause he got to Seaspray first.”

He paused. “Proximity bomb. Supposed to take us both out. Guess I should be glad the Jackhammer can take a punch. I picked up Dreadwing’s ion trail; tracked him through a dozen solar systems before catching up with him. I shot him down, and he led me right back to this marble.”

The flame of the welder flickered, making his eyes gleam as he paused again. “Some coincidence, huh?”

“I know of this Dreadwing,” Optimus said. “He was captain of a Seeker armada, and, as such, like his twin brother Skyquake, fiercely loyal to the Decepticon cause. Dreadwing has no doubt traveled to Earth to pay allegiance to his one true master.”

Wheeljack wrestled out from under Ratchet’s hands once again and got to his feet. “Hope he’s enjoying the visit, ‘cause it’s gonna be his last,” he said, making a fist.

“Ugh,” Ratchet groaned impatiently.

But Optimus had other ideas. “Wheeljack, this planet is heavily inhabited. Any strike we make against the Decepticons must be carefully measured, as a team, lest we risk endangering the human population.”

Nova nodded at this, but Wheeljack's face had contorted with his growing rage.

“Are you suggestin’ we just sit back and do nothing?”

“You! Loose cannon!” Agent Fowler’s voice erupted from the human corner as he marched past Nova and over to the railing closest to Wheeljack. “Your cowboy antics almost blew our cover!”

“Cover?” Wheeljack asked, confused.

“We’re robots in disguise, Jackie,” Bulkhead explained. “You need an Earth-based vehicle mode outside of here.”

“That spaceship you shot down?” Fowler growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Not Earth-based! I had to jump through some big hoops to get it hauled outta plain sight. You need to keep a tighter leash on your people, Prime!”

“A tighter leash?” Wheeljack said, turning toward the human angrily. “Lemme clarify, Tiny.”

“Jackie…” Bulkhead warned.

Wheeljack lowered his face so Fowler could see its expression clearly over the railing, and spat out his words. “I’m not one of Optimus Prime’s people.”

He stalked away angrily, leaving Fowler scowling in his wake.

“I’ll talk to him — uh, with your permission,” Bulkhead said to Optimus.

The Prime nodded. “Of course.”

Fowler put his hands on his hips. “So, the new guy has a problem with authority.”

“Wheeljack and Bulkhead served together in the Wreckers,” Optimus explained. “A commando unit that operated outside the normal chain of command.”

“Hm. Black Ops,” Fowler said distastefully.

“They accepted missions no one else would, and many of them did not come back.”

Fowler sighed. “Look, I get this guy’s a Bot with some pretty big chops, but I need you all to tell him he needs to rein in the stunt show before our cover gets blown. I’m already on a knife’s edge with General Bryce up at the fort. If this happens again, who knows what the head honchos might decide to do with you.”

“Understood, Agent Fowler,” replied Optimus, and the human turned to go, disappearing as the elevator doors closed with a chunk.

“Optimus,” Nova said, walking past Bumblebee to stand next to her guardian. “I have a question.”

The Prime knelt to speak to her. “What is troubling you, Nova?”

She kept her eyes steady, rooting her gaze to his face, and gave a small smile, desperately trying to slow her racing heart.

Last night had been one of the worst nights she had ever experienced. She had not breathed a word of her conversation with her brother to Optimus, but she had been plagued by terror the entire night. Images of Coby, pursuing her through white halls and rotting graves, had haunted her dreams, and when she woke all she could think about was his presence, drawing closer and closer to her. To the others.

Nova had tried to ignore her worries. She had dutifully told herself that she was getting all worked up over nothing; that Coby was too far away to make any serious attempt on her life, and Optimus would protect her in any event.

But no amount of reasoning could get rid of her nightmares. MECH had crossed a line when they kidnapped Jack’s mom, and another when they had disabled Bumblebee. They had no qualms about murdering someone to draw her out; they had no other enemy who had enough experience to stop them, and now that they had a way to track her, she was putting everyone else in danger. 

For the first few fitful hours, Nova had been rudely launched awake every twenty minutes, cold sweat making sleep impossible. Her imagination ran wild, painting gruesome pictures of every possible thing MECH would do to her once they discovered where she lived.

Eventually, too fearful to rest, Nova decided something had to be done. Coby was coming, and she had to stop him. Waiting around for him to find her would only prolong her misery and put everyone in greater danger.

Getting out of bed, she had completely abandoned sleep and begun to practice her lie, perfecting her tone of voice and facial expressions until the sun had risen. She hoped it would be enough to fool Optimus now.

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could use the Groundbridge for a while,” she said now, as nonchalantly as possible.

“If you require transport anywhere, I can drive you,” Optimus offered.

She cleared her throat. “Actually, I was thinking of being by myself for a while.”

“By yourself?” He frowned a little. “Why?”

Nova shrugged. “Well, I’ve had a hard time sleeping lately--”

At these words, Optimus’ eyes softened.

“I apologize, Nova,” he said kindly. “I know I have been too occupied for conversation of late, but if you require company, I can--”

“Oh, no, not that,” Nova interrupted, smiling a little too wide. Play it cool. “I don’t want to bother you. I just think it would be nice to go out and see the world a little, you know? I haven’t been outside for fun in a while.”

“You wish to … go for a walk?” Optimus asked skeptically. “At a distance from our base which would require a Groundbridge?”

“Is ... that okay?”

Optimus tilted his head, and Nova began to sweat. This was bad. He was too invested; too worried about her. This was supposed to be simple. He wasn't supposed to care. 

“I believe it would be more prudent to remain close to the area surrounding our base,” he suggested. “I know that Jack lives in town. Perhaps he could take you --”

“Well, actually," Nova said, casting her eyes to the floor in supposed sorrow. "I -- I just want to go see the place I used to live."

It was a lie. She could not even remember the place she used to live.

But it was too late to stop now. 

“You know, it might help with my … dreams and things," she said softly. "To say goodbye.”

Hesitantly, Optimus tilted his head. “So … you wish to revisit your home?”

Nova raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you?”

That simple question had a profound effect on the Prime. His mouth suddenly tightened, and his eyes darted to the side in an effort to hide the flicker of emotion which passed through them.

Nova winced. She hadn’t meant to go that far.

“I – I believe Ratchet has been rationing our Energon supply with more vigilance of late,” Optimus said, getting to his feet. “You should ask him if we have enough to spare for an excursion.”

Nova tilted her head upward. “So, you’ll let me go?”

Optimus was silent, looking down at her. Nova could tell he badly wanted to go with her, but he had a responsibility to his Autobots that he needed to uphold. She knew he couldn’t go gallivanting around the country for one human child. That was what she was counting on.

“I will allow you to do what I cannot,” Optimus said at last. “You may go home.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“New Hampshire?” Ratchet asked incredulously. “Why in the world would you want to go there?”

“I told you. I want to visit my home.”

The medic snorted. “You never told us you lived in New Hampshire.”

“You never asked me.”

“That doesn’t give you the excuse to just go out in the middle of who-knows-where. What if you get in trouble and die?”

Nova frowned. “I can take care of myself!”

“No, you can’t. You have a knack for finding trouble.” Ratchet gestured to her side. “The first time you went out alone, you almost died. Less than a week later, you almost lost your ability to transform. Who knows what might happen this time around?”

“You aren’t scaring me, old man.”

“You’re scaring me. Do you know how dangerous it is for you on this planet? What if the Decepticons detect your Spark signature and go after you? Or MECH?”

The half-spark cocked her head. “I’m not going out on a mission, Ratchet. I just want to go home for a little while. It will make me feel better.”

She turned doleful eyes up at the grouchy old medic, using the softest voice she had. “Please?”

Ratchet was silent for a moment, staring her in the eyes. Then he grumbled something under his breath and began to key in the coordinates.

“Fine. But in case of emergencies, I’m putting a location and vitals tracker on you, just like everyone else. And this time, young lady,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “If you get hurt, I’ll fix you up and then kill you myself.”

“Fine,” Nova said, walking toward the open portal. “I'll be back soon."

“See that you are.”

She disappeared as a flash of light into the Groundbridge, and Ratchet was left alone, until Optimus entered the room. 

“Optimus, I can’t say I agree with your decision to let her go out by herself.”

“I have my own misgivings as well, old friend,” the Prime replied, standing with him at the computer and looking out at the two other Autobots as they departed to retrieve their human allies. “But I believe Nova has grown stronger in the weeks past, and this is something she must do.”

“But alone?" Ratchet contested. "She’s a human, remember. Granted, she’s a cyber-human hybrid with powers we don’t even understand, but she is still a child, and she’s been hurt before. For Primus' sake, she's got people gunning for her. Are you really all right with this?”

Optimus shook his head. “No. That is why I came to speak with you. If you have any reason to believe she is in danger, contact me immediately.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

In the cleft in the rock outside the silo that night, Wheeljack leaned against his mini starfighter, the Jackhammer, while Bulkhead approached him in concern. 

“Jackie, look. Even if it weren't for the humans, we couldn't take on the Cons right now. We're outnumbered.”

I can’t believe this.

Fuming, Wheeljack turned to him with an indignant glare on his face, and began to list off the names of their fallen team members. “Roadbuster, Pyro, Impactor, Rotorstorm, Seaspray — all dust.”

“That’s what I'm talking about,” Bulkhead agreed. “Wreckers are Autobots. There just aren't that many of us left.” He looked to the ground for an instant in sad remembrance of their team as it once was, but the confidence built in his voice as he continued. “But if we get behind Optimus, we have a chance to end this, once and for all.”

Wheeljack smirked. “Guys like Optimus, they talk a good game, but when you're in the scrap, they don't want to get their hands dirty.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bulkhead said seriously. “You don't know Optimus like I do. Being a Wrecker meant everything to me, but I left that behind—”

“—Because Prime was the real thing blah, blah, blah.” His partner rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, both of them heard a beeping alert pinging from inside the ship. They both went inside to investigate, and heard a surly voice growl out:

“Wheeljack, I know you're out there, listening. I have a proposition for you.”

Bulkhead stared at the communicator. “Is that?—”

Bracing his arms against the chair, Wheeljack leaned toward the computer. “Dreadwing."

“Meet me at these coordinates, if you have the Spark.”

A point of red light shone on the global map inside the cockpit, a place Bulkhead recognized as West Virginia.

Wheeljack grinned. “I’ll see you there, Con, just to watch you fry.”

The communicator snapped off, and Wheeljack began to adjust the controls as Bulkhead looked over his friend’s shoulder.

“Jackie, it's a trap,” he warned.

“I know, but when has that ever stopped me?” Wheeljack replied, casually adjusting the flight settings as the engines hummed to life.

“You coming with?” he asked brightly.

After a moment of consideration, Bulkhead eased into the copilot’s chair next to his partner. “At least let me call for backup.”

Wheeljack chuckled. “You know Wreckers don't call for backup.”

Bulkhead smiled, and they both shouted out the old Wrecker motto:

“They call for clean-up!”

They slammed hands, and a few minutes later, the Jackhammer blasted out of the cliff and rocketed out away from the silo, leaving the base far behind in the night of Nevada.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The forest was quiet that night, except for the normal noises which so characterized it — the rustling of leaves, the buzzing of insects, the cries of owls — and through the patches of the foliage Nova could see stars peering down at her as if to wish her good luck. She looked closer, and realized that the three glimmering points of light were those of Orion’s Belt.

She sighed, and tapped the button for the comms on the side of her head. Why am I stalling?

“Fowler? Agent Fowler, can you hear me?”

“You’ve reached Special Agent William Fowler. I am currently on an intensive training retreat, and unavailable until Tuesday.”

Great. No help there. 

“Well,” Nova sat down to wait, listening to the leaves rustle above her head. “I guess time we ended this.”

There was a silence, and then, across mountains and rivers and miles of distance, something like the inexorable pull of a magnet tugged at her Spark.

Coby was on the move.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Wheeljack trod lightly on the undergrowth of the forest as he spotted the dark figure ahead, glinting slightly in the evening light.

“I wasn’t certain you’d come,” Dreadwing said, turning to face him.

“I don’t like unfinished business,” the Wrecker replied, holding his hand at the ready next to his hip grenade. Dreadwing did the same as well, and an intense silence followed. The two warriors, tensed for action, glared at each other with their hands at the ready, coiled and waiting for who would make the first move.

Suddenly, Dreadwing flung out his three-pointed grenade into the air, streaking directly towards the Wrecker, and Wheeljack did the same, hurling his green grenade straight. The two explosives collided in midair in a flash of smoke and fire, triggering a huge explosion which blew the two combatants backward.

Dreadwing recovered his footing, peering into the smoke. Within seconds, Wheeljack emerged, sprinting towards Dreadwing and leaping into the air with his swords drawn and glinting in the moonlight.

“RAAUGH!” Wheeljack roared, falling out of the air and landing solidly, his swords embedded in the ground where Dreadwing had stood mere seconds ago. The Decepticon, instead of staying and returning blade for blade as Wheeljack had expected, turned on his heel and began to run in the opposite direction. Wheeljack, ripping his swords out of the ground, slid his facemask over his mouth and gave chase, brandishing his blades threateningly.

Dreadwing leaped over a dip in the ground and began to slide down the earthy hill, with Wheeljack close behind him, and when they had reached the bottom the two combatants found themselves in a sort of valley, with solid walls of rock and earth bordering either side. Running on just before the Wrecker, Dreadwing pulled out his remote detonator and pressed the activation button with a sneer on his face.

Wheeljack, just behind him, leaped into the air just as a grenade exploded directly off the cliff face to the side of him, clearing the blast with a victorious shout.

“Is that all you got?” he taunted as he hit the ground running, and another grenade exploded off of the right wall, causing him to halt for a split second to avoid incineration. Once the fire passed, however, Wheeljack continued the chase, and pursued Dreadwing right into a dead end, the end of the valley.

Finally, we got him cornered.

Wheeljack removed his battle-mask and looked upward to the top of the hill. “If you’re thinking about flying outta here…”

“…Think again,” Bulkhead finished from above, drawing his blasters and leveling them directly down at Dreadwing.

Dreadwing turned to face his attacker, looked Wheeljack in the eye, and smiled.

An uneasy feeling arose in Wheeljack’s mind. Something’s not right.

The Wrecker’s gaze shot up to where his friend stood with his blasters drawn, and spotted something he hadn’t seen before. A grenade, planted by Dreadwing beforehand, was set directly underneath Bulkhead’s position, and it was rapidly beeping.

“Bulkhead!” Wheeljack burst out, but his warning came too late. The grenade exploded in a plume of red flame, and the unstable cliff on which Bulkhead stood crumbled beneath his feet.

“GEEEAAGH!” Bulkhead roared, slipping and sliding down the slope with the mountain of rocks. Openmouthed in shock, Wheeljack flung up his arms instinctively to cover his face and bent under the crushing weight of the rockslide, instantly buried in the rumbling darkness.

Dust rose from the valley as Dreadwing shot out of the pit in his aerial mode, but he transformed and landed solidly on the earth above the mound of rocks a second later, proudly surveying his work.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Leaning against a tree with her arms crossed over her knees, Nova started out of her doze as she heard a twig snap next to her ear.

Coby.

She leaped to her feet, her armor ready, and flung out her blasters, scanning the forest wildly.

No one was to be seen, but Coby’s burning presence was very near. It made her hair stand on end; it felt as though she could reach out and touch him.

“Finally awake, huh?” noted a voice, obscured by the dark.

“Get out here,” Nova said, holding her blasters at the ready. "We need to talk."

"No thanks," he refused, remaining in the bushes. After a short silence, he continued in a low voice, "I know why you're here."

"I'm sure you do."

Coby paused for a second.

"It's ... too late for me," he said finally. 

"It's never too late, Coby." Nova looked in the general direction of his voice. "Come back with me. We can take care of you."

He chuckled. "No, you can't."

"Stop being so stubborn, you idiot," Nova growled, stamping her foot despite herself. "Why are you so loyal to Cylas, anyway? All he's done is take things from you. Our parents would never do what he's done to us."

A snort. "You don’t even remember our parents.”

“I remember we had parents,” Nova said firmly, though she was not sure at all.

Again, Coby was silent for a moment.

“Did we?” he murmured.

“Yes,” she replied. “We had ... someone. Something to live for. Something other than MECH. And that’s enough for me.”

“You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes, I do," Nova repeated firmly. "You can change everything right now. Leave MECH and come back with me."

"Maybe I can't leave," Coby snapped. "Have you ever thought of that? Maybe I don't have a choice."

Nova frowned. "You definitely have a choice."

In response, Coby just laughed bitterly. "Not anymore.”

“It is true!” Nova insisted. “One of the robots taught me so. His name is Optimus, and he’s good, I promise. He can help you.”

As she talked, she saw a dark form rise out of the bushes, standing head and shoulders above the tall undergrowth. His back was turned to her.

“Help me?” he repeated softly. “Who can help me now?”

Nova moved closer, deactivating one of her blasters. “They can, Coby. I trust them. All of them. They can protect us.”

Coby spoke stiffly. “You have three seconds to go back where you came from. If you’re still here when I turn around…” His shoulders straightened. “I am going to kill you.”

Shaking, knowing this was the stupidest thing she had ever done, Nova reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

In an instant, something hard slammed into her temple, and she toppled to the ground, spots flashing before her eyes.

Yeah, that was stupid. 

Choking out a groan, Nova wedged her elbows beneath her chest and pushed, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain as she got to her feet.

Subject Omega laughed.

"Aww," he said. "What's the matter, traitor? Comeuppance too painful for you?"

Nova sent her fist flying into his face, and it connected with his jawbone with a violent crack. He reeled back from the impact with a growl, stumbling away from her and whipping out his sword.

“Idiot,” he snarled. “I was trained for five years by Silas himself! You think you can beat me?”

He rushed at her, and Nova felt a swish of air against her armor as she reared back, his fist missing her face by a hair’s breadth. Before she could recover, he swung his other arm around and struck her a mighty blow in the skull.

Her head snapped back on her neck.

Nova staggered away, her eyes welling up with tears from the impact, but before she could reorient herself, her opponent delivered a sharp kick to her gut. The awful pop she felt when her back struck a tree was not encouraging, nor was the sudden snap of her helmet deactivating.

He chuckled at the sound of her gasping for breath. "This is too easy."

Nova trembled, her ears ringing. Stuck on her hands and knees, her head hung low on her shoulders. Her face felt frozen in a tight grimace as she clutched at herself, trying to hold back the pain of her spine being bruised once more.  

Subject Omega stood above her and swept his sword back as she struggled to push her shaking body away from the tree.

“Tell me, Alpha,” he crowed. “While you were so busy being a traitor and having fun with your new alien friends, did you ever think of your brother?”

He raised the blue-edged blade. “While you were free to do and think as you wished, did you ever think of me?”

His sword whistled as it descended out of the air and streaked towards Nova’s head, but she raised her arms to protect herself, and the blade glanced off her vambrace, sending sparks flying.

“How could I?!” Nova grunted, her helmet snapping over her face as her hands trembled on his blade. “I thought you were dead.”

"Same old lie," Coby scoffed.

With a growl, Nova brought her knee up to Coby’s wrist and slammed his sword to the side, unsheathing her own swords quickly and stopping the laser-edged blades an inch away from his neck.

Then, once she had his attention, she pulled them away, gazing at her brother with compassion.

“It’s true,” she said earnestly. "And I'm sorry I left without you. But I'm here for you now. I can help you, Coby."

Coby knocked her sword away and delivered a savage left hook into her jaw, sending her body reeling back as he stood upright once more.

He gave a single shake of his head. "No, you can't."

She coughed. "Coby--"

With a guttural roar, he lunged at her throat.  

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Optimus?” Ratchet called. “Come and look at this.”

“What is it, old friend?”

“Nova’s vital monitors began to spike a few minutes ago,” Ratchet explained, pointing to her ID on the computer. “She’s still in her Groundbridged location, but now she’s becoming more active.”

“Are there any known assailants in her immediate area?” Optimus inquired.

“Yes. One. I’m detecting an intermittent Spark signature directly located at her position. It could be her brother, or else—”

“She could be facing a Decepticon,” Optimus finished.

His face grew grave as he turned towards the Groundbridge. “I am going after her.”

“Wait, Optimus,” Ratchet called, an urgent tone in his voice. “For the moment, Nova’s Spark integrity and her vital levels are holding steady. In the meantime, there’s something else you need to see.”

He pointed to another location on the map, where a familiar green facial ID popped up.

“Bulkhead’s signal,” he said. “Over a thousand miles from here. And I would have to assume that Wheeljack is with him.”

“Have you attempted contact?”

Ratchet turned to look at him. “No response.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Ugh!” Nova shuddered, reeling back after a blow to her face.

“You can stop all of this, you know,” Coby said matter-of-factly, rearing back his blade. “Just kill me.”

“I won't,” Nova growled, leaping to her feet and wrenching the sword closer to herself. With a sharp jab of her elbow, she broke the blade in half and hurled it away into the forest, the little half-weapon spinning through the air and out of sight.

Then, she sprang forward and hit him in the face, jabbing and striking him wherever she found an opening. Her attacks were enough to drive Omega to his knees, and only then did she stop.

“It doesn't have to be this way,” she pleaded, leaning down to look into his face. "Please, Coby. Come back with me. You can have a home again. A family."

She placed a hand on his shoulder, locking eyes with him. "And I promise, I'll never leave you again."

For a moment, he froze.

Slowly, Coby reached up and took her hand, looking into her eyes with sudden anguish, and for an instant, Nova saw the same old Coby she remembered; his childlike eyes looking into her own with an earnest, wordless plea. For an instant, it looked as though he had changed his mind.

But his grip on her fingers grew tighter. With a slanted grin, Coby seized her hand and twisted it, wrenching her arm backwards and causing her to arc her body in agony.

“Yes, you will,” he said hatefully. “It’s all you ever do.”

Enraged, Nova flung a roar from her throat and snapped her arm out of his grip, slamming him in the face with her knee.

“Nngh!”

He fell to the ground, dazed. Unsheathing her blue-edged sword, Nova placed the humming blade to her brother’s neck. “I can't let you leave.”

“Go ahead! Do it!” Subject Omega roared, blood flying from his mouth. “C’mon! I thought you were trained for this! Kill me!”

“You think I won’t?” she snarled.

“I think you can't,” Coby sneered, sliding his neck along her blade, and laughing harshly when she jerked it away.

“See? You can’t hurt me. You’re too much of a hero for that.” He spat a glob of Energon-laced spittle at her feet. “Pathetic.”

“You would kill me in a heartbeat,” Nova growled, clenching her fist tighter beneath her sword.

He kept his eyes trained on her as he spread his arms wide, locking his gaze with hers. 

"Then kill me while you have the chance," he rasped, the most vile leer plastered on his face.

The look of utter desperation in his eyes made Nova step back. That wasn't her brother anymore.

“What is this?” she whispered. "What have they done to you?"

“You know something?” Coby said in a low voice, his grin widening. “Now that I know where you live, I think it would be really nice to pay a little visit to those punks you hang out with."

The kids...

Nova swallowed. "You wouldn't."

"I could mount their heads on a wall — have a set of trophies, one-two-three. Like that kid with the glasses. What was his name…” He pretended to think. “Ah! Raf, right?”

At Nova's sudden blanch, Coby grinned. “It would be so fun to hear Raf’s little neck snapping under my—”

“No!” Nova roared, her eyes rimmed with red. “Don't do this to me! My brother would never say something like this!”

“Don't you see?" he shrugged. "Your brother's gone. You took too long. You left him to die."

“Stop it!” Nova cried, her voice threatening to break. “Stop acting so stupid, and come back with me! Whatever Silas did to you; I can fix it. I'll find a way!"

"Like you found a way to rescue me before?" Coby demanded, his face full of wretched malice. "You failed." 

The look in his eyes frightened her. 

“Face it, coward,” he hissed. “If you let me live, I will kill them all. Slowly. Do you hear me? I’ll kill them all, and make you watch!”

“Why?” Nova hissed through clenched jaw.

"Humans are lower lifeforms," Coby snarled. "Pathetic and weak and worthless. One day, hybrid machines like us will carry the world forward. The future of everything starts with you and me! But now...” he chuckled. "Now, just me." 

“Don’t say this!” Nova pleaded, her hands trembling. “Coby! Don’t say this!”

“I’ll do more than say it.” His eyes were wild as he leapt to his feet and launched a fist into her jaw.

As her armored assailant flew into her again and again, Nova’s vision became curiously blurred, more and more, running together in a dizzying blend of shadows. 

With a final blow from her brother, Nova reeled back and fell to her knees, unable to even raise her head.

Dimly, she wondered who had been dripping Energon all over the ground.

“You know what's going to happen,” a voice hissed in her ear. “Right now, Silas is building Project Chimera. He’ll have it ready any day now. He’ll use it to destroy your little alien friends, and then he’ll move on to the humans. Any man, woman, or child who stands against MECH will be destroyed!”

Coby laughed evilly. “And I will be the one who sends them to their deaths!”

Gathering all her strength, Nova got to her feet and lifted her sword one more time.

With barely any effort, Coby knocked her blade away, and thrust his own sword into her stomach. The sputtering laser's edge pierced Nova's armor and sent her staggering back, gasping for breath as she clutched her side.

"C-Coby," she said, tears falling down her face as she fell to one knee. Dark blue blood trickled from the wound and dripped out of her fingers. Her side burned in agony, her cauterized muscles contracting painfully at the edges the wound, but that barely registered in her mind.

Her brother was truly gone.

But Coby didn't allow her time to process. He delivered a harsh kick to the center of her back, sending her to the ground with her armor flying apart. 

"You should have killed me when I asked nicely," he said. "Too bad you didn't have the guts."

His sword flipped to a blaster, and he shot her in the leg, dragging a scream from the half-spark's throat. 

"You're just going to take it like that?" Coby demanded. "The mighty Alpha is just going to die without a fight?"

Nova looked up at him, terror and grief contorting her face. 

"Stop," she choked. “Please…”

Coby leaned down, pressing his blaster against her exposed jaw.

"Bye, sis."

Screaming, Nova arched her back and thrust her fist into his stomach.

The laser from Coby's blaster thudded harmlessly into the dirt next to Nova's face as she drove her blade into his armor.

Knees buckling, Coby took in a trembling breath, looking down at her with wide eyes. Nova's sword trembled on her wrist, as though it was appalled to be buried so deeply into Coby’s chest.

Succumbing to gravity, Coby slid to the side and toppled to the ground. 

Her anger disappearing like vapor, Nova sucked in a breath and wrestled herself out of the dirt, scrambling over to kneel beside her brother. “Coby?”

No response. His helmet was turned away from her.

It took Nova a minute to register what had happened. Her body was tense, her mind still churning out adrenaline as she eyed him warily, waiting for him to get up and attack her again.

But he didn't.

Her eyes widening, Nova stared down at him, her lips mouthing silent words as she sat back on her ankles and deactivated her sword.

After a second, she reached out and touched his face with trembling fingers. She had to. 

He was cold, and she jerked her hands away as though it burned. 

“He — I couldn’t — I didn’t…” she stammered, sobs racking her shoulders. “What have I done?”

Coby's body blurred as her eyes filled with tears.

Gasping, Nova began to weep in earnest, and hot tears rolled down her face and dripped into the dirt. She leaned forward, curling her body around her wound, as she collapsed into wrenching sobs. "What have I done?"

The forest gave no answer. For a long time, all Nova could hear was her own heart pounding in her ears, and her own voice hitching in her throat.

Then, a different noise came to her ears.

“About time...” said Coby softly, shocking her out of her daze.

She scrambled over to him and knelt by his side, seizing his hand and clutching it in her own. "Coby!"

“C-careful,” he grunted, his body jerking a bit. “I’m dying here.”

“Coby, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry.” She swallowed shakily and choked with sobs. “Why did you do it? How could you?”

“I — I told you," he grunted. "It's too late for me.”

“What?” Through her blurry tears, Nova saw Coby’s mask slide away. “What do you mean?”

“You’re ... really stupid, you know,” he said softly, knuckling her in the chin. “Always picking fights with bigger people.”

“Coby—”

He raised a finger to stop her. “Shut up. I ... don't have a lot of words left."

"Okay..."

Coby grunted. "After our last fight, I … I might have done something stupid."

"What?"

"I fought back for once. Disobeyed Silas like you said. And you know what?” He chuckled painfully, with a wince. “I was pretty cool.”

Smiling proudly through her tears, Nova pressed his hand to her cheek, and hung on his every word. In this moment, she finally had her brother back.

"He didn't think it was cool, though," Coby coughed, a bit of blood trickling out of his mouth. "He told Arkeville to implant some new gadget in my head… it made me follow his orders." 

"Oh, Coby..." Nova whispered, fresh tears skipping down her cheeks.

"They sent me to find you... find where you lived." He coughed out a weak laugh, wincing at the pain of his contracting ribs. "But I knew how to beat 'em. I knew that if I died, it would deactivate the chip.”

“So... you did all that just so I would kill you?” Nova demanded.

“That was the plan,” he coughed. "Took you long enough..."

Nova felt sick as she realized what she had done. “Coby, why didn’t you tell me?”

But before he could respond, she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We can help you. We’ll get it out. Just — just stay with me. You hear me? I’ll call Ratchet and we’ll—”

"No!" He gripped her hand. “We can’t. If you take me home alive, they'll find you.”

He coughed, and Energon spurted from his mouth. “I tried to spare you the trouble -- I tried to do it myself, but … that didn’t work.”

Nova pressed a hand to her mouth. “Coby…”

He let out a short breath. “Whoo. Man. I’m ... kind of dizzy...”

Alarmed, Nova pressed a hand to her earpiece. “I’m calling Ratchet--”

But Coby put a hand over hers, shaking his head.

“Nova.” His voice was barely a whisper now. “I gotta ask you something.”

Her tears fell faster. “Anything, Coby. Anything at all.”

“Do you … ‘member when we were kids?”

"Yeah--"

"Don't lie," he growled. 

She shrugged. “A little. Bits and pieces.”

“I don’t.” He swallowed. “I don’t remember anything anymore. Not even pictures…”

“I’m sorry,” Nova said, pressing her forehead to his knuckles. “I’m so sorry.”

“But I do know one thing,” His eyes shifted down to his chest. “There was a dream we had...”

"Dream?"

"Yeah." He looked into her eyes with a joyful smile. "I finally remembered it."

"That's good, Coby!" Nova swallowed, her lip trembling again. “That's great.”

"You--" His face paled, and his smile faded. "You don't remember it..."

"I will," she promised. "It'll come to me--"

He grabbed her hand.

"You gotta remember," he said softly. "You gotta beat 'em for me."

"I will," she promised. "Silas won't get away with this."

"Not... him..." Coby coughed. "Them..."

"'Them' who?!" Nova demanded. "What are you trying to say?"

"It's all right. You'll know what to do..." He looked up at her one last time, with a smile that stopped her heart. “Give 'em one for me.”

Nova felt his grip on her hand weakening, and her pleas became more frantic.

“Coby — Coby, wait! Coby?!”

There was no answer. The leaves rustled in the wind above her head, and the greying sky was visible through the patches in the foliage, but the half-spark saw nothing — heard nothing. Her whole body was numb, and she felt so, so cold.

She was alone.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The rocks in the huge sloping pile shifted and rumbled aside, and Cybertronian hands lifted boulders away to free the Wrecker trapped inside.

“What took you so long, Bulk?” Wheeljack grunted, his head and shoulders emerging from the pile. “Don’t tell me your ridin’ with Prime has made you—”

He looked up at his rescuer. “—soft?”

Trailing off, Wheeljack reached up and grabbed the hand that was offered to him, allowing Optimus Prime to pull him free from the landslide. The rocks and loose pebbles skittered down the slope and fell to the ground around them.

Once the Wrecker was back on his feet, Optimus spoke.

“If you will not take orders from me, that is one thing,” he ground out. “But when you place one of my Autobots in danger—”

“With all due respect, sir, Bulkhead knew the risks,” Wheeljack said, dismissing the Prime’s rebuke. “Now, I’m … sure he’s just somewhere in this rubble.”

He turned back to the slope of fallen rocks, but whatever effort he intended to take was interrupted by Ratchet’s voice cutting through Optimus’ comm-link.

“Optimus, Bulkhead’s signal has moved from your current position.”

Wheeljack turned around. “You coming with?”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Shaking, uncontrollably shaking with fear and rage and sadness and the cold that wasn't really there, Nova reached up and pressed the commlink on her ear.

“R-Ratchet?”

“Nova? We haven’t heard from you,” His voice was so familiar, urgent but friendly, and Nova let out a sob at the sound of it, drinking it in with everything she had.

“What's wrong? Where are you?” Ratchet asked. “Are you all right?”

“I — I —” Nova choked, her face crumpling. “I—” Her body fell to the ground next to her brother’s, unable to lift itself anymore.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Minutes later, Optimus found himself crammed into the little cockpit of the Jackhammer in the passenger seat next to Wheeljack, the pilot. The Prime’s body was bent forward in order to accommodate his large shoulders, nearly bent double in the small ship.

His fingers drummed on his knees idly as they rode in silence. The ship hummed beneath the floor as it flew through the air and neared the coordinates provided by Ratchet, the signal of which was pinging on the little map.

Optimus turned to Wheeljack finally, and tried to make conversation. “You and Bulkhead share quite a history, and yet you prefer to work alone.”

“The Wreckers scattered a long time ago,” Wheeljack replied grimly, keeping his eyes ahead. “And alone’s usually a lot less complicated.”

“Hm.”

Optimus considered all the times when he had to be alone. Even in the days when he was a simple data clerk in the middle castes of Cybertron, there were times when he had been rather lonely. When he had been so young, he could never have imagined living a life without those he cared about. 

The Prime knew that Wheeljack, suffering from the deaths of his fellow Wreckers, was doing what he himself would have done long ago -- pushing everyone else away in an attempt to protect himself, but in reality he was making himself more vulnerable.

Optimus had seen many Cybertronians fall victim to their own sadness several times before. What was going to prevent Wheeljack from doing the same?

Minutes later, the Jackhammer touched down in the location of Bulkhead’s signal; an unmanned dock with a wild maze of containment boxes spread out for a mile or more, stacked high enough to easily conceal Cybertronians, both living and dead.

Leaving the ship at a secure destination and exiting the Jackhammer, Optimus and Wheeljack walked cautiously through the mazes with their weapons cocked.

“We are close to population,” Optimus reminded the Wrecker. “Remember—”

“Blasters and fuel pumps don’t mix,” Wheeljack finished, glancing down at the scanner. Bulkhead’s signal pinged straight ahead of them.

“Our boy is just up ahead,” Wheeljack reported shortly.

They rounded the last corner, and started back in shock as they beheld Bulkhead before them.

“Hey, guys,” Bulkhead grunted.

His huge arms were pinned above his head by electric restraint cuts, buzzing and flashing above his weary face and the wired grenade beeping on his chest. The numbers were counting down.

The grenade was three-pronged. It was Dreadwing’s.

“Scrap,” said Wheeljack.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Nova!” Ratchet burst out of the Groundbridge, medical kit in hand, and roved over the quiet forest with his eyes, his trained optics immediately spotting the two human bodies before him. Both were lying senseless on the ground. Both were leaking Energon freely. One was clothed in armor. A wound from Nova's sword had opened up his chest.

“Primus,” Ratchet breathed, and scooped up both humans in his hands. He leapt back into the Groundbridge as quickly as he had come, leaving no trace of the events that had happened there except a pool of Energon mingling with tiny streams of tears. 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“You really got yourself into a heap of scrap this time, partner,” Wheeljack observed matter-of-factly.

“Stay back, Jackie,” Bulkhead warned, the bomb pinging on his chest.

Wheeljack ignored him, concentrating on the explosive.

“Better get to work,” he said.

Optimus watched him unlock the center of the bomb and expand the compartment zone, revealing the myriad of crossed wires inside.

“Have you defused one of these before?” Prime asked.

Wheeljack looked over the explosive with a practiced eye. “Fail-safes, dummy leads, booby traps,” he observed in appreciation, his eyes widening. “It’s a work of art.”

What the three of them did not know, at least for the moment, was that Dreadwing, a short distance away, was watching them from above. His com link crackled. It was Megatron.

“Dreadwing, where are you?” he demanded.

“Merely pursuing my destiny, Lord Megatron.”

“Did I not order you to stand down?”

Dreadwing turned away from the sight of his victims to speak into his wrist. “Forgive me, one true master, but it is my hope that vanquishing Optimus Prime will earn your respect.”

“Optimus is not so easily disposed of, as I keep trying to all of those who foolishly attempt it,” Megatron replied patiently. His tone of voice clearly indicated an eye roll.

Below, on the ground of the docks, Bulkhead was still trying to convince Wheeljack to back down.

“Jackie, if you don’t abort, we’re both gonna need clean-up.”

“Trying to focus here, Bulk,” Wheeljack growled, his hands hovering over the bomb’s wires.

Bulkhead looked behind his partner. “Where’s Optimus?”

Wheeljack turned around. Sure enough, the Prime was gone. He scoffed.

“Like I told you,” he said. “When the scrap hits the fan blades, the generals are the first to bail.”

“No,” Bulkhead said grimly, his frown deepening. “Not Optimus.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Meanwhile, on the bridge of the Decepticon warship, Megatron listened to his loyal, prattling fool go on about his destiny over the comm-link.

“I assure you, master, in but a few moments, Optimus and two others will be blown to atoms,” Dreadwing claimed.

Megatron hid a smile. Dreadwing had absolutely no idea what he was in for. One of the main reasons he reserved challenging Optimus as his exclusive right was the fact that so few of his troops could survive an encounter with the Autobot leader.

Normally, Megatron would eradicate any soldier who defied his orders in such a way, but Dreadwing had exhibited such loyalty that his behavior could be excused. For now.

Besides, it would be entertaining to see how far he got before Optimus taught him a rather short lesson.

“I will allow it, Dreadwing, in memory of your departed twin, but only this once,” Megatron said graciously.

The comm link shut off, and Megatron turned to Soundwave, who stood silently behind him. “I will be quite surprised if we ever set eyes upon Dreadwing again.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Dreadwing terminated the commlink conversation and turned to look at his victims again. Any nanosecond now, the explosive would go off. He would be rid of three of the Autobots, the greatest pestilence to ever walk the galaxy. He would show them. He would avenge Skyquake, his brother, and destroy the Prime once and for all —

Optimus Prime was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is the Prime?” Dreadwing growled in frustration, his eyes roving about the crowded dock, looking for any sign of movement.

Then, out from the mazes of the storage containers, Dreadwing heard the voice of the Prime.

“Dreadwing,” it called out boldly. “If you are anything like Skyquake, I know that you value loyalty and honor.”

“Is there a point to your bluster, Prime?” Dreadwing roared back.

Down on the ground, Optimus pressed himself up against the shipment containers as he entreated to the Decepticon above him. “Only that Megatron knows nothing of those principles. He lives solely for destruction, and conquest. But there is another way,” he said. “Deactivate the bomb.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Ratchet laid the two half-sparks on the medical table and examined the boy. The wound from the sword blade had directly pierced his half-heart, and the regenerative factor of his body had not been able to compensate for the damage. He was already dead.

Nova, on the other hand, was showing signs of life, but she was also heavily injured in her side and leg, and showed signs of severe shock. Her face was pallid and cold, her breath too shallow and too fast, she was shaking. Ratchet could tell from the monitor in his wrist that her Energon pulse was far too rapid, even for her small size.

“Nova? Primus help us all.” He bent down to her. “Nova, can you hear me? For Primus’ sake, wake up!”

“Ratchet?” Nova opened her eyes and turned her dirty, tear-stained face to look up at him. She was trembling uncontrollably now.

“How do you feel?" Ratchet demanded, lifting her arm to begin cleaning the site of her stab wound. "What happened to you out there?”

Nova did not answer him, only stared with glassy eyes at the stilled figure beside her.

Ratchet looked too.

“Oh,” he said, understanding. “Your brother.”

Nova did not say anything; she just stared. And stared.

“Nova,” he said, trying to get her attention. “I’m so sorry.”

“Ratchet,” she murmured, her voice soft. “Aren’t you going to fix him?”

“Fix him?" Ratchet asked. "Oh, Nova…”

With a sigh, Ratchet looked at the boy beside her, and removed the body from the table gently. Then he stooped to bring himself to her eye level.

“Nova, I need you to listen to me, all right?” He locked eyes with her. “Coby's gone.”

“No. No he isn’t!” she said feverishly, almost excitedly. “He was just talking to me a little while ago. In the forest. Come on, you can fix him... right?”

Ratchet looked her in the eyes. “Not this time, Nova.”

She sat there for a moment, listless. Then her face contorted, and a tear dripped out of the corner of her eye.

“I killed him,” Nova murmured at last, her weary mind beginning to ramble. “I did this. Didn't I?”

“Nova,” Ratchet said. “Calm down. It isn’t your fault.”

“It is my fault.” Her hands were trembling. “I killed him.”

“There was nothing you could do, Nova,” Ratchet said sternly. “It was self-defense. You are not at fault for your brother’s actions. Trust me, I’ve had this conversation with Optimus before. What’s done is done. You need to rest, and I need to fix you before we talk about it any more.”

Nova sniffed, swallowed, and pushed her face into her hands. “It hurts…”

Ratchet sighed. The signs of Nova’s despondency were very clear. At this point, no amount of reasoning could take away the pain she felt at her brother’s death, and perhaps never would.

So, he activated the table's stasis protocols, knelt down in front of her, and let her cry.

“It’s going to be all right,” he said. “You have to believe that.”

Nova shuddered, and swallowed. “It hurts...”

“It’s all right,” he repeated, helping her lie down. “Just relax. It's all right.”

The half-spark leaned forward, grabbed Ratchet's finger and threw her arms around it, sobbing with all the grief in the world. Surprised, the medic opened his hand and allowed her to rest her head upon it, though he tried to hide his reaction.

“Now, there's no need for all that,” he grumbled, then softened his voice as her grip loosened and she fell into stasis, her sobs subsiding into little hitched gasps, and then into deeper, ragged breaths. Finally, she was asleep. 

“You’ll pull through, half-spark,” Ratchet said softly, getting to his feet. “If I have anything to say about it.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Dreadwing opened fire on the storage containers, scattering lasers and explosions left and right, and Optimus, feeling the heat of the flames on his back, found himself hard-pressed to keep out of the way, and he dodged and sprinted with great agility as he heard the Decepticon roaring behind him.

Follow me, he thought. Follow me. Come on.

Sure enough, the blaster fire came closer as Dreadwing leapt after him in full pursuit.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Get out of here, already,” Bulkhead urged Wheeljack, who was still attempting to defuse the bomb.

“I didn’t leave you on Sandakan, and I’m not leaving you here,” Wheeljack said stubbornly.

The bomb pinged faster and faster as the timer counted down.

“Face it,” Bulkhead growled. “There’s only one bot who can defuse this mess, and his name’s Dreadwing.”

Wheeljack ignored him and looked over his shoulder, listening to the explosions nearby.

“Blaster fire’s getting closer,” he muttered. “As if the commander — ugh!”

He grunted and fell back as Bulkhead broke his restraints and rammed into him.

“Sorry, Jackie. It’s ‘cause I love ya,” Bulkhead said, and began to charge toward the edge of the dock.

The deep water of the ocean spread out before him in a big blue sheet, calm and still as peace itself. He was about to change that.

“Sorry, fishies,” he groaned, and he charged onward, trying to leap into the water and cushion the blast to save his friends.

Suddenly, he felt someone ram into his chest.

“Bulkhead, wait!” Wheeljack shouted, pushing up against his partner desperately, trying to slow him down.

“Outta my way!” Bulkhead growled. He charged forward even more forcefully, pushing Wheeljack’s body before him.

Wheeljack grunted, and shoved back, harder. “Will you … listen to me, Bulk?!”

His feet scraped over the concrete as he threw his entire weight into Bulkhead’s oncoming force, managing to stop his charge a few inches from the dock’s edge.

“You were right,” Wheeljack said firmly. “Dreadwing’s the only one who can defuse it.” He looked over Bulkhead’s shoulder. “And Optimus knows it, too.”

Bulkhead turned around. Behind them, swinging above the dock and crates, stood a tall loading crane, and climbing up it steadily was the small figure of Optimus Prime.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Dreadwing charged forward in hot pursuit, his feet clanking on the cement of the dock, his powerful laser cannon swinging from his hands. He would find the Prime. He had seen him go this way. Here, in the midst of the petty humans’ construction, there was nowhere for him to hide. The one responsible for his brother’s death would surely perish on this day. He swore it to himself. He swore it to Skyquake. The Prime would perish.

The Decepticon, lost in his angered thoughts, did not hear the swinging cable creaking in the air above him, did not hear the clank of the crane shifting into position, and only looked up above him as the roar of the Prime rang out clearly, and the heavy clamp came crashing down on his chest.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Optimus stepped off of the clamp resting on Dreadwing’s chassis, and Bulkhead and Wheeljack ran up behind him as the Decepticon looked around in furious bewilderment.

The Prime kicked the handheld cannon out of Dreadwing’s reach, and stared down at him coldly.

“Dreadwing, defuse the bomb or fall victim to your own device,” he said, never breaking eye contact. Bulkhead looked increasingly nervous as the bomb pinged faster.

The Seeker looked up at Optimus cooly. “I will gladly sacrifice myself to avenge my brother,” he said.

“Then we will, in turn, gladly join the Allspark with our brother,” rejoined Optimus. Cliffjumper had been killed by Decepticons almost a year ago.

“And with you,” Wheeljack said, folding his arms stubbornly. “You’ll never shake us.”

The Autobots stared him down. Optimus and Wheeljack, unrelenting, set their jaws and silently glared at Dreadwing, who glowered sullenly back, and the numbers beeped on the bomb as it counted down. Bulkhead groaned in trepidation and screwed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the impact that was sure to come. Wheeljack and Optimus stared, grim-faced. The seconds ticked down: seven … six … five … four… three …

“Very well,” Dreadwing said, relenting. He reached up with his hand and pulled the blue wire out of its seating, and the timer on the bomb slowed to a stop, with only two seconds to go.

“Whew!” Bulkhead said, sagging in relief.

“I had it narrowed down to the blue or the yellow,” Wheeljack said confidently, glancing at the bomb with his hands on his hips. “Or the red.”

Optimus, still looking down at Dreadwing, saw an almost imperceptible movement of the Decepticon’s hand. He had pressed the button on his detonator.

The Prime reached over and pushed his Autobots to the ground as the explosions from the containment units all around them blossomed into the sky.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Ratchet glanced down at the alert showing up on his wrist comms, and turned to look at Nova on the table. He had managed to repair her side as best he could, and her leg appeared to be healing itself now that she was in stasis, but her neural net seemed to be going haywire.

She would recover from her physical wounds in time, but the real recovery would not begin until Optimus came home. 

"Where are they?" Ratchet grumbled.

There had been no communication from Optimus or anyone else for a long time, and Ratchet knew better than to interrupt them unless Nova was dying, but the longer Optimus took to return, the more the medic worried that they could not help Nova at all. At times like these, when sudden grief or loss took someone away, a human needed to be with their own kind, and not with a group of war-scarred aliens who could give her nothing but Energon and advice.

Maybe bringing Nova into their fold had been a mistake after all, Ratchet thought to himself.

Perhaps it was time for the half-spark's life of war to come to an end. 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Wheeljack stood up from his crouching position and stared out at the flaming wreckage of the containment dock. He put his hands on his hips.

“So, who do we call for clean-up?” he inquired.

Bulkhead sighed. “We’ll have to do this ourselves,” he said, ripping off the dud bomb on his chest.

“No,” Optimus said. “The human repair teams will undoubtedly arrive to survey the damage. Agent Fowler will need to handle the appropriate negotiations.”

“Huh. Then let’s go home,” Bulkhead said. “I’m beat.”

He looked back at Wheeljack. “You comin’?”

His friend glared out at the fire sullenly. “The Con got away.”

“Yeah. I know he did. But at least he got away with the idea in his noggin that Optimus isn’t someone he wants to mess with,” Bulkhead said. “And neither are we.”

Wheeljack placed a hand on his chin, as if studying a work of art.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “Guess you’re right, Bulk.” He turned away and walked between them to approach the parked Jackhammer. “C’mon. Hope you two like confined spaces.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Optimus Prime still lives,” Megatron droned as the disgraced warrior knelt before him. He had never been less surprised in his life.   

“As do you, Dreadwing,” he continued. “And that is a victory however small, as Skyquake so tragically discovered.”

The ashamed Seeker frowned as he knelt in penitence. “Speak to me not of my twin, Lord Megatron, for I am here to obey your will, and yours alone.”

Turning to look upon the Decepticons’ newest elite member, Megatron felt a slow, sinister smile growing on his face. Perhaps this day had not been so futile, after all.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Meanwhile, back at the base, the Groundbridge had just powered down behind the returning Autobots, and Ratchet observed the exchange between Optimus and a very humbled Wheeljack, who was approaching Optimus with a more apologetic attitude.

“Listen, Commander,” he said. “I just wanna say it was an honor watching you work. I, uh, think maybe I had the wrong idea about you.”

“And it would seem you put a greater value upon community than you otherwise let on,” Optimus replied, holding out an inviting hand.

“Whoa, let’s not jump the gun here,” Wheeljack said, holding up his hands and backing away.

Bulkhead shoulder-rammed him good-naturedly. “Come on, Jackie. If you leave, you’ll probably just wind up coming back again. All that wasted fuel … and Energon is in short supply…”

“Then again, we do have limited space,” said Ratchet gruffly from the Groundbridge controls.

Wheeljack was hesitant.

“Not sure if I’m ready to give up my freedom just yet,” he said. “Maybe I could do some exploring; see if this rock suits me.”

“Uh, no offense to the Jackhammer,” Bulkhead spoke up suddenly, “But you’re gonna need an Earth-based vehicle mode.”

“Let’s go get one,” his friend replied.

They thundered out of the base, intent upon finding a new vehicle mode to suit someone such as Wheeljack, a fairly difficult task. When they had gone, Optimus turned to Ratchet.

“Dreadwing may be a Decepticon loyal to Megatron,” he said, “But despite this, he seems to be receptive to our ideals.”

“Mmph.”

Optimus tilted his head. “Does something trouble you, old friend?”

Ratchet sighed, his shoulders sinking a little. 

Optimus knew from his tone that something was deathly wrong.

“What happened to Nova?" he asked. "Was she harmed?”

The medic turned to look at him. “Her brother’s dead.”

He pointed to a little, lumpy bundle which sat at the foot of the pile of empty Energon containers, shrouded in a sterile white cloth.

The Prime was silent for a minute, staring at the bundle with a grim expression on his face. Then in a voice he did not use often, he asked, “Where is she?”

“In the medibay, coming out of stasis,” Ratchet said succinctly.

Optimus turned to go, but Ratchet spun around before the Prime could leave, launching into his rant.

“Optimus, Nova is lucky to be alive right now," he said sharply. "And if I'm being honest, we're lucky it was her out there today and not one of the other children. It’s only a matter of time before something like this happens again, and I'm not sure we can be there to stop it every time."

Optimus paused.

"I know," he said softly.

Ratchet knew from his tone that the Prime had already realized this, and was trying not to let anything show. 

"We have to do something," Ratchet said. "These humans cannot be dragged into our war. None of the children would be in danger if we hadn’t gotten involved on this planet in the first place. Don’t you see? This life is wrong for her. It’s wrong for all of them! Nova has been in constant pursuit of your approval since she arrived here; she takes after you and refuses to let herself stop and recover from anything, and she’s not even an adult! This all happened because we allowed it, Optimus!”

The Prime did not respond with words, but simply turned to look Ratchet in the eyes.

Being one of his closest friends, and since he knew what to look for, Ratchet knew there was always a remnant of immense grief present in Prime’s gaze, but Optimus usually kept the rest hidden. Only rarely could it be seen by others - and even then only if he allowed it - but when he was tired, or angry, it showed easily.

It showed now.

“She is in the medibay?” Optimus asked.

Ratchet nodded. “Yes.”

He turned to walk away. “I will return soon.”

“Fine.”

The sound of the Prime's footsteps faded in the distance.

Ratchet sighed, and looked at the shrouded form of the boy with a haunted look in his eyes.

“Optimus,” he murmured. “How many lives is this war worth?”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Optimus Prime approached the forlorn little figure on the edge of the medical table, his steps clanking on the well-kept floor. It was dark, but he could still see her trembling on the bare metal slab.

She was crying.

Hesitating for a moment, Optimus looked at Nova and considered whether it was wise to approach her at this time. He had heard about humans’ grieving cycles. Apparently, they came in stages, and it would be insensitive to do something to disrupt the system. There was the initial denial she was supposed to have, the anger, the bargaining, and the depression before the eventual acceptance, and he did not know if there was anything he could safely do without interfering.

She was supposed to process this event on her own, was she not?

Then, he looked at her again. She had not realized he was there, probably due to the remnants of stasis, and her tears flowed freely. Her shoulders shook, her armor was pulled away from her body, and her face was buried in her knees.

Her posture made him painfully aware of the fact that she was just a little girl. 

Optimus forgot about the grief. He forgot about the stages. Nova was different from most humans, anyway. The most insensitive thing for him to do right now would be to leave her when she needed him the most.

So the Prime sat down beside the half-spark, and gently picked her up in his hands.

After a moment of shock, Nova began to cry afresh.

Every one of her sobs tore at Optimus’ Spark; every shudder of her body deepened the wound in his spirit. He thought of the deaths he had suffered through with his teammates; that of Cliffjumper, Tailgate, and Elita One, among so many others. They had all taken a heavy toll on his teammates, and this was no different. But Nova had no one to grieve with. She never had.

So, he bore her up in his hands and sat there quietly, just sitting; just listening. There was nothing to be said.

Nova, huddled on her knees in his grasp, looked up at her guardian and felt the comforting warmth of his hand, and the solidity of his strength around her. Gradually, her tears slowed, and stopped, and dried on her cheeks, and her sobs subsided to shuddering breaths.

As the minutes passed, Nova began to feel tired again. Wiping her face, she took in a breath and sat up in his hand to look at him.

She sniffed. “Why’d you come in here?”

Optimus looked at her. “Because it is not good for you to be alone.”

As she fell into another exhausted slumber, Optimus held her close and watched over her grimly, wondering if this was the last time he would be able to care for her before he would have to let her go.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Chapter Text

“Wait, wait, wait, start over,” Miko said. “What happened?”

“Nova’s brother died,” Jack replied patiently. “Last night. Ratchet’s asking my mom if Nova can stay at our house for a little while.”

“June’s coming here?!” Miko asked in a panic, clutching her hair in her hands. “Quick, we’ve got to hide all of our stuff!”

“What do you mean?” Raf asked. “All we’ve got is the TV.”

“Yeah, but you never know when she might want to put an axe through it,” Miko said sinisterly. “She’s totally crazy."

“O-kay,” Jack said hesitantly. “Ratchet thinks the best thing for Nova is to be around other people. She’s always around the ‘Bots, and this’ll prepare her for the outside world again.” He rubbed his head. “Well, sorta.”

“Well, what about Optimus?” Miko demanded, her hands on her hips.

“What about him?”

“Don’t tell me he actually agreed to this.”

“I don’t think he had a choice,” Jack said. “Ratchet seemed pretty mad at him the other night—”

“For letting Dreadwing escape and letting Nova go out alone,” Raf added.

“—Yeah, he seemed angry that Optimus couldn’t prevent Nova from having to go through this, or something,” Jack continued. “So he’s asking my mom to come over even if Optimus doesn’t like it.”

“But Optimus is her guardian,” Miko said exasperatedly. “Shouldn’t he at least have a choice, even if Nova doesn’t?”

“Not the way Ratchet sees it,” Raf replied. “He wants Nova to be with her species, so he’s making sure Optimus is willing to give her up for the day. Plus,” he said, turning to Jack, “Your mom keeps bugging the Bots about it.”

“What?” Miko asked lowly, her hands on her hips as she narrowed her eyes at Jack. “What does he mean?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jack said sheepishly. “Mom’s been calling the base at least twice every week demanding that Nova take a break from the Bots. She’s getting mad about it.”

“Well, we aren’t gonna let her,” Miko said, punching a determined fist into her open palm. “We’ll make sure Nova stays here if she wants to, and if June doesn’t like that, then she can just—”

“Why is everyone yelling?” a hoarse voice said. 

“Nova!” Miko whirled around and pounced on the half-spark eagerly, sending Nova reeling back in a fright. “What happened?”

“Are you okay?” Raf asked, seeing Nova’s red, puffy face. “Do you want us to go get—”

“No, Raf,” Nova said, holding up a hand. “I’m fine. Optimus says I'm going to be leaving for a while.”

“We already fraggin' know!” Miko said, her Cybertronian swear word making the others gasp. “You can't let them do this to you!”

“Miko,” sighed Nova, rubbing her cheek wearily. “I don't have a choice. Optimus told me to go with June for today. Ratchet’s calling her right now.”

“He's what?” Miko’s angered face took on a look of disbelief. “Are you crazy?”

“No,” the half-spark replied matter-of-factly, shooting her a confused glance. “I do what Optimus says. Even if I don't like it.”

“Oh,” Miko said dejectedly. Then, her eyes took on a look of panic. “Wait! Who’ll be here to babysit us if the Bots are out?”

“You can do that yourselves," Nova shrugged. "Besides, it’s only for a night. I’ll be back tomorrow. Probably.”

“Yeah, but with Helicopter Mom, you never know,” Miko grumbled. “We might as well have sent you off to a prison somewhere.”

“Oh, and speaking of prison,” Jack said suddenly, looking at his watch, “Don’t we have to get to school?”

“Yeah,” Raf sighed. “I guess we do.”

They all looked at Nova sadly, and she at them.

“Good luck,” Jack said.

“You’ll need it,” Miko added.

Nova wrinkled her nose a little. “Thanks.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Airachnid approached her commander with an air of humble servitude and knelt before his mighty form.

“If it pleases you, Lord Megatron,” she began, “Once Soundwave discovers a means of decoding the remainder of the Iacon database, as we know he will, I would suggest the deployment of an underutilized asset.”

Megatron spoke to the spider without turning to face her. “And what asset would that be, Airachnid?”

“I believe that my superior tracking skills would expedite your quest to recover the remaining relics,” Airachnid said, her voice dripping with servility.

“Noted.”

Her objective complete, Airachnid rose to her feet. “You are a gracious audience, My Lord.”

The door to the bridge of the warship slid shut behind her as Megatron turned to his loyal communications officer.

“Soundwave, remind me of her trustworthiness.”

The Communications Officer was all too willing to oblige. Soundwave’s screen face lit up with an audio recording of Airachnid’s words he had taken during the rising of Unicron, when Megatron had been absent from the ship.

“I believe we must consider the possibility of a future without Megatron.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Megatron’s face fizzled to life on one of the warship’s monitor screens within Dreadwing’s personal quarters. The Seeker was cleaning one of his weapons when his master called his name from the screen.

“Dreadwing.”

If he was surprised to be receiving a private transmission from his lord and master, Dreadwing did not show it.

“I am at your beck and call, Lord Megatron,” he replied, laying the weapon aside.

“I wish to entrust you with a task I would normally reserve for myself,”  Megatron said, his voice taking on an ominous tone. “That is, if you wish to prove yourself worthy of becoming my first lieutenant.”

“That post belongs to Airachnid,” Dreadwing replied. Everyone knew that since Starscream had left, Airachnid had become the choice for second-in-command of the warship.

“She will be missed.”

Dreadwing realized what Megatron was asking. The time had come for Airachnid’s termination.

“And I suggest you bring backup,”  Megatron added before signing off. “She can be a handful, especially when cornered.”

“As you command, my lord,” Dreadwing replied, bowing respectfully. His master’s will would be done, no matter what he had to do to execute it.

As the potential candidate for SIC, Dreadwing would follow his orders to his last Spark-pulses.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova sat before the bundle in the medical bay, her body covered by her armor.

The corpse before her was wrapped in sterilized white cloths and separated from her by a glass screen. The tears did not fall from her cheeks, however. This time, at the sight of her brother, they only welled up in her eyes and stung and stayed, lingering in her vision, clouding the world, and placing everything behind a watery film.

Waking up that morning, she had almost been able to convince herself that her brother was alive, that the previous day had all been a terrible dream, and that she still had a chance to make everything right.

Faced with the cold shroud, she had to come to terms with the fact that it was too late to make it right.

“Coby,” she whispered, leaning her head against the glass. “I wish it had been me.”

Coby gave no answer. How could he? He had been killed by the one who loved him the most.

Nova looked at her hands, covered in cold armor still flecked with blue, and she understood exactly how enormous her guilt was.

You’ve got a murderer’s hands.

“Nova?” A voice came from behind her.

She snapped out of her thoughts and turned to look up at Optimus. “Yes?”

“June is on her way.” He looked at her doubtfully. “Are you prepared to stay with her?”

Nova glanced down at the floor, then looked at her brother’s body silently.

Optimus took a knee next to her. “He will be safe here until a decision is made,” he said. “I know human burial processes can differ from ours.”

Nova sighed. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Optimus looked down at her. “Are you all right?”

“Take a flying guess,” she growled.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Optimus’ face contorting slightly, as though her words hurt him. 

“It is good to grieve those you have lost,” he said at last. “I only hope that this departure from the team does not affect you for the worse.”

Nova looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Optimus glanced away. “In times of war, soldiers who have lost close friends— brothers —tend to place most of the guilt upon themselves, and separation from their unit in times of grief often worsens their condition.”

“I wonder why,” Nova whispered.

“Taking responsibility for your actions is one thing, Nova,” Optimus said. “But I do not want you to place blame on yourself.”

“Are you trying to tell me that I did the right thing in killing him?” Nova asked vehemently.

“In war, the ‘right thing’ often eludes us,” Optimus gently responded. “But you acted out of self-defense.”

“I killed my own brother, Optimus!” Nova cried out, clenching her fist on the smooth glass. Her whole body felt as cold as death. “How could I ever … how could any of you ever…”

“Forgive you?”

She looked at the bundle in sorrow. “Yes.”

Optimus looked, too. Then, he sat beside the half-spark and opened his hand to her. “Come here.”

Nova turned away from the glass tomb to bury her face in her guardian’s hand, wrapping her arms around as many of her fingers as she could.

“You must always remember how much you are worth to me,” Optimus said. “And no matter how dark the time; no matter how hopeless the moment, I will always protect you. I know your brother does not hold you responsible any more than I do.”

Nova pressed her face into the warm metal of his hands and said nothing, the choking lump in her throat growing more painful by the second.

“Then why are you sending me away?”

Optimus did not respond for a few seconds. 

“It is my belief that, as a human and a mother, June is more equipped to assist you during this time. She can help you in ways I cannot. We are not sending you away.”

He leaned closer, prompting her to look at his face.

“Do you understand?” Optimus asked.

The half-spark nodded, but she could not speak. She didn’t need to.

“Will you be alright?”

Nova sniffed as she raised her head. “I guess so.”

The sound of an engine broke off their conversation as June’s car drove into the base, stopping over the Autobot symbol on the floor.

“Nova, hi!” June Darby stepped out, her nurse’s uniform smooth and clean as usual, and ran to Nova to pull her into a tight hug.

Stiffening, Nova choked in surprise, and her face settled into a disgruntled scowl as June released her and held her out at arm’s length, the tears rolling down her face.

“Oh, honey, I heard about what happened,” she sniffed, adjusting her modest purse. “Are you doing okay? Is there anything you need? I’ve got some snacks in the car—”

“No, thanks,” Nova interrupted stiffly. “I’m fine.”

June’s eyes softened, and she wiped away her tears to smile at her gently. “Well, I managed to get off my shift early, and I came to pick you up.”

Her eyes flitted to the imposing figure of Optimus kneeling next to them. “Will that be a problem?”

“No,” replied Optimus, getting to his feet and looking down at them. “You may leave whenever you wish.”

“I would also like to have a word alone with her,” June said tersely. “If that isn’t a problem, either.”

“Of course,” Optimus nodded, walking away to join the medic at the Groundbridge controls. 

Once he had gone, June seemed to break down and began to cry afresh, pulling Nova in for another hug.

Nova blinked in confusion, resting her hand on the woman’s back as she desperately tried to remember how normal people worked. 

“Um, Miss June?” Nova asked, uncertain how to respond. “I didn’t know you would be so … sad about Coby. I’m … I’m sorry this is so hard for you.”

“Hard for  me ?” June pulled Nova closer. “Oh, sweetie, I was crying because this is hard for you. No one should ever have to lose a family member.”

She took Nova’s hands in hers and smiled at her gently, the tears streaming down her face. “You know, Jack tells me about you all the time. He always talks about how brave you are and how you’re always willing to help out, and I get so worried about you, trying to live up here alone.”

June sniffled, dabbing a handkerchief to her nose. “I figured you might finally need someone around to take care of you for once.” 

Nova’s brow crinkled in confusion. She didn’t live up here alone. And Optimus took care of her. 

Perhaps mistaking her silence for grief, June placed a warm hand on Nova’s shoulder. “I hate how little I get to see you and make sure you’re safe. You know I can never tell if you’re okay when you’re hanging around…” her voice changed to a tone of disgust. “…this place.”

Nova winced. She knew where this conversation was heading.

June wiped her eyes again and smiled a little. 

“Well,” she sighed briskly. “Are you ready to go?”

“Um,” Nova said hesitantly, looking back at her guardian. “I really don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay at your house, Miss June. The Autobots need me here, and—”

“What do you mean, they need you here?” June asked.

“Well, we’ve been dealing with more Decepticon attacks and Energon shortages lately, and I usually help with chores—”

“This is exactly what I mean,” June interrupted with a frown. “Someone your age should not be dealing with these kinds of problems. Battle strategies and wartime rations are not what a young lady should be worrying about. You need to be raised in a  real  home,” she said, clasping her hands. “Not some kind of classified military base with alien robots.”

Nova saw Optimus raise his head.

“Listen, Miss June, maybe this was a bad idea,” she began.

“No, Nova, you listen to me!” June said firmly. “These people don’t know about human needs. They can’t take care of you. They don’t even know how to care for regular children, much less someone like you!”

She placed a hand on Nova’s cheek. “They aren’t your family. You need to spend more of your life with  real  people.”

Every word she flung from her lips only stitched Nova's frown even tighter.

“But they are my family,” she protested. “And they didn’t put me in any danger--”

“Well, they might as well have,” June retorted, darting a glare at the surprised Optimus. “Goodness knows they do it often enough. And no matter what they say, they are not family. They will never be family, Nova. That just isn’t possible.”

Nova bowed her head in silence.

With this last statement, June sighed, ran a hand through her dark hair, and looked down at her watch. “Look, we can talk about this at home, okay? I shouldn’t have come on like that. I just get so worried about you…”

Nova nodded listlessly. She allowed herself to be led to the car, allowed the door to slam shut on her emotionless face, and allowed the engine to start. She did not snap from her trance until they were leaving the base, driving through the tunnel, without the Groundbridge, without even saying goodbye.

The half-spark suddenly pressed her face desperately against the side window, looking back. Optimus stood behind them, watching the car leave, his tall form dwindling and disappearing as the tunnel swallowed them up, and then he was gone.

And Nova didn’t know if she was coming back.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Am I the only one here who considers this to be overkill on Lord Megatron's part?” Airachnid asked as the Decepticons tramped through the darkened forest. “I mean, dispatching two of his most proficient warriors to track down one unconfirmed Energon spike?”

“Megatron knows me and Dreadwing here will get the job done,” Breakdown said firmly, his one good eye glowing in the dark, his other one dimmed by his eyepatch.

“Actually, I was referring to Dreadwing and myself,” Airachnid said, with poison in her voice.

Breakdown growled and cracked his knuckles, approaching the spider-like femme with the intent of removing a few of her legs, but Dreadwing stopped him with a word.

“Breakdown, remain on task,” he commanded. “This must be a unified effort.”

“Indeed, Breakdown,” Airachnid said sweetly, winking at him. “I know we've never seen  eyes  to  eye , but that doesn't mean we can't  patch  things up.”

“Rrrgh! That’s it!” Breakdown roared, charging at the femme with his hammer outstretched.

Dreadwing reached out to stop him. “Don’t!”

Breakdown found a sticky web plastered to his face and grunted, trying to rip it off with his fingers. Dreadwing whipped out his machine gun from its holder on his back and opened fire upon the spider-like fembot as Airachnid’s spider-like appendages carried her from tree to tree, leaping just out of range of Dreadwing’s attacks as Breakdown grunted in the dirt.

Swinging her body to and fro between the trees, Airachnid braced herself and fired a well-placed web around Dreadwing and his machine gun, but one of his lasers had knocked her off balance.

The spider robot fell from her lofty height with a grunt and hit the ground loudly. With one of her legs broken off at the tip, Airachnid lifted herself up and leapt away into the forest. Breakdown, roaring, gave immediate chase with his shoulder cannon.

“Breakdown, don't be a fool,” Dreadwing shouted, his arms and legs stuck to the trunk. “Release me!”

Breakdown took no heed, charging into the forest nevertheless. And that was the last time Dreadwing ever saw Breakdown alive.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

As he leaped over a rock in his wild pursuit, Breakdown came across a pool of freshly spilled Energon glowing in the dirt. He inspected it briefly and stood up to survey his surroundings in the night.

Suddenly, above him in the trees, Breakdown heard the swish of a nimble form flying through the air from trunk to trunk. He whirled around and chased after Airachnid immediately, following the trail of spilled Energon and pools of glowing matter along the way. Eventually, he came upon the groaning femme, up against a rock in her fatigue, limp and helpless. She backed away in terror at the sight of him.

“Heh,” he chuckled, raising his hammer. “Easy prey.”

He lifted his arm into the air to deliver the killing blow, but found himself caught on a strand of indestructible webbing strung over his head, rendering him helpless.

“Rrrgh! Rraugh!” Breakdown strained, trying to break free of the webbing, but he could not move or escape, and Airachnid then revealed how helpless she really was.

With a truly evil smile adorning her face, she lifted her razor-sharp legs and launched them at her attacker, effectively ending his life. His shouts of pain echoed through the forest as his Spark was ripped out of its casing.

And Breakdown ceased to be.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Meanwhile, Dreadwing strained at the webbing binding him to the tree, grunting as he tried to pull himself free. His strength did nothing, and he knew it was only a matter of time before that vengeful femme could return for him. The forest around him was eerily silent. He did not like it.

“Breakdown, what is your status?” Dreadwing demanded into his comm-link. “Breakdown!”

The eerie silence continued.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Breakdown’s severed arm dangled from the webbing, creaking in the night wind. Suddenly, a light flashed onto the surface of dull metal, and the beam traveled down from the severed servo to the miscellaneous parts of Breakdown, his body completely beheaded and dismembered.

The man holding the light, a MECH worker in a dark uniform, lifted a radio to his mask and spoke into the walkie-talkie.

“MECH 1 to Silas. Our maneuvers have yielded unexpected results,” he said, roving around with the searchlight, alighting upon Breakdown’s head, frozen in a deathly scream. “And a familiar face.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“So, what’s the first thing you want to do when we get home?” June asked brightly, looking up into the overhead mirror at Nova in the backseat. “I can make us some nutritious vegan non-chocolate chip cookies while we talk about the … funeral and stuff. I know a snack can usually be helpful when planning these things.”

Nova looked at her wearily and shook her head. “No, thanks. I’d rather do that in the morning.”

“We can’t talk about the funeral in the morning, sweetie. I’ve got the day shift again, and you have to go to school.”

Nova nearly jumped out of her seatbelt. “What?!”

“That’s right,” June said kindly, looking back at her. “I’ve enrolled you as a shadowing student where Jack goes, so he can show you around. They won’t mind a late visitor, and even though you’ve been out of school for a while, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.”

Nova blinked and kept opening her mouth and shutting it again, like a gasping fish that had been forcibly yanked from the sea. “I — I —”

“Oh, you don’t need to thank me, Nova,” June said. “We can talk about the funeral tonight, and then we’ll finish up after you come back from school, okay? I know it’s a little sudden, pushing you into this so soon, but it’ll be good for you, I promise.”

She turned on her blinker and went down a quiet neighborhood road. “With what you’re going through, you need other people — other kids — to help you process what happened instead of just sitting and moping at home all day. I can’t believe Optimus didn’t send you to school before. I thought he knew about our rules for proper education.”

The half-spark couldn’t believe her ears. Optimus had known better than to expose her to other children. 

Nova gulped, and her face was deathly white. “C-can we just go home, please, and figure all this out later?” 

Her voice was barely audible, but June had good ears.

“Of course, honey. You’ve been through a lot, and you need some rest. And you just tell me if there’s anything you need.”

Nova looked out the window and saw her own frightened reflection gazing back.

I need to get out of here!

“Here we are,” June said, pulling into the driveway. “Our house.”

Nova looked at it. It was a … nice house, she supposed. Small and plain, but nice. 

Morosely, Nova unbuckled her seatbelt and slid out of the car. She wondered how much of this day with their family would remind her of what she couldn’t have.

“You can put your stuff inside on the table,” June said, unlocking the door. “We can sort it out later.”

“Stuff?” Nova looked down at the tiny satchel of things Ratchet had made up for her. He said these were the necessities for a night's stay, so she had accepted it, but she had no “stuff” of her own.

“June, all I have are my clothes,” Nova said.

“That’s fine, sweetie. You just go on inside, and I’ll start making supper.”

Nova stepped over the threshold with a strange feeling in her stomach. This was the first time she had entered a human home since she could remember. 

Suddenly conscientious of her appearance, she removed her armor quickly. Humans probably didn’t allow armor indoors.

As she closed the door behind her, Nova’s eyes alighted on each of the pictures lining the entrance hallway, all of them containing smiling faces and pretty scenes, all bathed in the soft light that shone above the door. With a sense of wonder, Nova reached out to touch the frames as if they could disappear at any moment.

It was such an ordinary house, made for nice, ordinary people. 

“Come on inside,” June called from the living room ahead.

Nova shut the door behind her and ventured out of the hallway as timidly as a mouse.

“Is this okay?” Nova asked. “What do I do?”

“Bring your stuff to the couch, and we’ll get you settled in Jack’s room.”

Nova’s eyes widened. “Do you think I could sleep somewhere else? If you give me a sheet, I should be fine. I can sleep on the couch.”

June’s brow wrinkled. “Are you sure? You know, Jack could—”

“No, really,” Nova said, giving a sheepish smile. “I like the couch. I'm used to it.”

“Well, I suppose it’s all right if that’s what you want,” June relented with a frown. “What are the Autobots thinking, having you sleep on the couch every day? You could get spinal problems later in life.”

“Um…” Nova tried to move the subject away from the Autobots. “Miss June, where is Jack? I thought school would be over by now.”

She winced when she heard June’s answer.

“Oh, he’s probably still at the base,” June said, pulling out her cellphone. “Thanks for reminding me; I’ll give him a call. He’s not supposed to be out this late. There is such a thing as a curfew.”

“N-no, I didn’t mean for you to call—” Nova began, but June was already dialing.

In the resulting silence, the nurse tapped her foot impatiently, and after a moment, the line picked up.

“Hey, it’s Jack,” the voicemail recording said. “I can't answer, 'cause I'm probably out saving the world right now.”

June left a message.

“Young man, you know you aren’t supposed to be out this late. The instant you get this message, you come back home immediately or run the risk of me grounding you for a year.”

She snapped the phone shut, looked at Nova, and sighed. “I’m sorry, honey, I guess we’ll just have to make do without him.”

Nova looked down at the ground. “I understand.”

Her eyes brimming with sympathy, June placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s hard, sweetie, but don’t worry. Jack will be home soon.”

Nova nodded, but Jack’s absence was not the source of her misery. Jack was there, and she was here.  He was spending time with his guardian right now when Nova couldn’t even see hers…

The half-spark clenched her fists. It was going to be a long night.

“Come into the kitchen, and you can help me make food, honey,” June said, lifting Nova’s chin.

Nova frowned. Only Optimus lifted her chin like that.

She jerked her head away. “I’m not very hungry.”

“Oh, well, alright,” June said. “Do you want to talk about it while I make something?”

Nova sighed. If Optimus were here, he would have told her to make the best of it and be courteous. After all, June was practically welcoming a stranger into her home, just to try and help.

Besides, maybe if I play along, I can to go home sooner. 

So, she shoved back her gut reaction and nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

They walked into the kitchen, and Nova sat next to the counter while June Darby rattled some pans around.

“So, what would make you feel better? Tell me about yourself,” June said. “What do you enjoy?”

“Well, I have friends now,” Nova said. “The kids. Ratchet. Bulkhead and Bee and Arcee, and especially Optimus. And I enjoy working, and going on missions with the others. They sometimes let me tag along, and I learn so much from Optimus when he’s not busy.”

She sighed. He had been very busy lately. 

"And Ratchet’s been teaching me about science,” she continued. “I don’t really understand most of it, because he's old. And Bumblebee likes to tell me stories about scouting.”

Nova began to smile as she got going. “And Bulkhead, wow, he can name every Japanese kaiju movie ever made, and he’s great to talk with about anything. He remembers a lot of war stories, and he loves watching old reruns with Miko…”

June remained silent though Nova’s description of each team member, but when the half-spark had finished telling her about scouting for Energon in the forest, she decided to say something.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think a girl your age should be so … so involved like this. It’s not safe.”

Nova looked at her in a stupor for a moment. Was she serious?

“Not safe?” Nova asked incredulously. She was certain June was joking. “Since when has my life ever been safe?”

“Never.” June flicked on the stove. “Which is exactly my point. You should worry about school, and grades, and getting a job or a boyfriend. You should have a normal life.”

“Thanks, June, but I can’t have a normal life,” said Nova, her momentary happiness fading away. “I don’t think a normal life was ever mine to live.”

“It can be. I’m enrolling you in school next week. You can take classes with Jack.”

“No,” Nova said, trying to be firm. “No school. Please. I won’t be imprisoned again.”

“It’s not prison, kiddo. It’s the law. You’re going to school.”

Nova let out a long sigh and leaned against the counter wearily. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I have to take responsibility for you. Until we find you a legal guardian—”

“I have Optimus.”

“He’s not a legal guardian.”

“And I’m not a normal human!” Nova cried.

Her outburst plunged the room into silence for a minute. Eventually, June opened the fridge and rummaged around in it without saying a word, but her body emanated disapproval.

Nova sighed. “June, I’m a half-alien cyborg. According to all official records, I don’t exist. Every government in the world would be happy to get their hands on my armor and weapons. I’m different,” she said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Everyone is different, Nova.”

“But I’m not a good different,” Nova protested. “I’m not the fun, sweet, quirky kind of different you’re talking about. I’m … not a real human anymore.”

“But why are the Autobots more special than us?” June asked. “Why can’t you spend time with your own race? With people your own age — people your own species?”

“Because my own species tried to turn me into a super weapon,” Nova fired back. “But Optimus took care of me.”

“So, what, you hate Earth?” June asked. “You just branded the entire planet as a threat because of what happened to you?”

“I don’t hate Earth,” Nova said, “The Autobots are teaching me to protect it." 

“But why do they need you?”

“They … don’t need me,” Nova admitted, her eyes downcast. “I need them.” 

She raised her head, her jaw set. “And I can’t just stand by and watch them throw everything away for us. I have to help.” 

June sighed and turned to Nova wearily, as if she was trying to get her to see something she couldn’t possibly understand.

“They brought their war here, and it’s their responsibility to get it away from here. Not ours,” she pointed to Nova. “And not yours.”

After a pause, Nova sighed. 

“Optimus taught me to do what’s right,” she said. “I might not be as strong as he is, but I think it's right to help the Autobots protect the Earth. I can’t do that by sitting around and living some stupid normal life.”

“But someone human has to take responsibility for you—”

“June,” Nova interrupted. “I appreciate that you care so much, and I admit that I do need to get better at associating with people from my own planet. But I don’t feel safe here. I --”

She broke off, rubbing her face. “I have people after me. People I can’t fight on my own. You were kidnapped by MECH once – don’t you know what that feels like?” 

June Darby fell into silence.

The stove top beeped an alert.

Letting out a long sigh, Nova got up from the counter and looked at her. “It’s been a long day. May I go to bed now?”

“We haven’t talked about the funeral for Coby yet.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, you have school,” June said, turning back to the stove.

Nova winced. “I have no choice?”

“Nope. We can talk about the funeral after school if you want. Now, I suggest you get a good night’s rest. You have to wake up at seven.”

Nova left the kitchen and switched off the lights in the living room, unfolding the simple cotton blanket left for her and stretching out on the couch. She pulled the covers up to her chin and shut her eyes, blocking out the sound of June Darby rattling pans in the next room by thinking about the Autobots and the children. She wondered what they were doing right now, while she was locked up in this prison.

Don’t think of it as a prison, she told herself. Think of it as … a vacation. I’m locked up on vacation.

Her brow creased slightly. This was not going to work.

She forced her eyes to remain closed as she pictured each of the Autobots in her mind, thinking about their cares and joys, worries and hopes, which only hurt more. Her thoughts eventually drifted to Coby.

Coby. Why did this have to happen?

A tear trickled down her cheek, and silently, Nova began to cry, but there was no one to wipe her tears away.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Starscream groped for the next handhold in the rock face, grunting and straining as he kept his eyes on the prize — a shard of glowing blue Energon, the crystalline form sticking out of the smooth rock like a little star above his head.

Starscream was not interested in beauty at the moment. The wonder and curiosity he had had as a scientist was long gone, he told himself. What mattered now was survival. Since he had deserted the Decepticons in favor of independence, and recently lost his T-cog, Starscream had been forced to walk alone. As if that wasn’t inglorious enough already, he had also been forced to scrounge for scraps of Energon like some sort of common glitch-mouse.

“This is idiotic,” he muttered to himself. “How is it that I have been reduced to seeking Energon scraps, merely to survive?”

He plucked the shard of Energon out of the rock face, and held it before his eyes disgustedly. This was barely enough to power himself for a few more astro-minutes.

As he wretchedly inspected the tiny crystal, he felt himself slipping, and let out a cry as he crashed ungracefully to the ground.

Groaning, he sat upright and looked at the tiny fragment of Energon in his fingertips once again, letting out a hopeless sigh as he leaned against the rock face. There was truly no way this life could be any worse.

Then, his audio receptors picked up a thumping noise further into the cave from where he sat, followed by a guttural growling and insect-like chittering. It was close.

Curious, Starscream got to his feet and walked around the next corner to investigate. What he saw was unexpected, even for him. In all his foot-bound travels on this miserable planet, he had not seen anything like this.

“An Insecticon? On Earth?” Starscream muttered to himself, observing the enormous Cybertronian beast. It was almost taller than Megatron. It sported mandibles on its gruesome, insect-deformed faceplate, and its heavy, fearsomely clawed hands were scraping aside the boulders in the rock wall.

It was obviously not a creature to be trifled with.

But when the Insecticon pulled out a chunk of Energon crystals larger than Starscream’s head, he figured it was time he intervened. Surely this primitive beast would listen to him.

“You there, scavenger,” Starscream said, coming out from behind the corner and approaching the beast. “Deliver that Energon to me.”

The Insecticon, wonder of wonders, disregarded Starscream, turning away from the skinny flier and continuing its business.

Starscream was angered. How dare this mindless brute show such impertinence? Did it not know who he was?

“You dare turn your back on a superior life form?” Starscream demanded, putting on his most authoritative voice. “I am Commander Starscream!”

With this outburst, Starscream raked his talons across the Insecticon’s back, determined to get his point across, but he regretted it immediately.

The Insecticon turned and lashed out at him, and the next thing Starscream knew, aside from his terror at the brute’s bloodthirsty roars, was that he was being forced back into a narrow crevice in the wall of rock while the Insecticon groped for him in rage. Starscream scrabbled further into the hole, kicking uselessly at the huge talons which pursued him.

“Fine! Keep the Energon,” he shrieked. “I hope you choke on it!”

The Insecticon appeared to be paying him no mind, and for an instant, Starscream wondered with horror if he would survive the night, but then, to his immense surprise, the bug-bot stopped in its tracks and withdrew, pulling its ravenous arms out from the hole. The sweetest sound in the world to Starscream at that moment was the sound of the beast walking away.

Starscream sat there in relief for a moment, then crawled out of the hole and got to his feet. Where was that creature going?

He followed the lumbering oaf through the cave until they came to a large cavern, swept clean by the former mining crew and as quiet as death. Then, Starscream saw what the Insecticon was aiming for.

“Yes, minion, approach me,” Airachnid crooned, lounging atop her rock in the center of the cavern. “Obey me.”

The Insecticon seemed to be pulled inexorably towards the femme as if some unheard signal had taken over its rather diminutive mind. Its actions moved in sync with the spider as Airachnid voiced her final command.

“Worship me.”

After a moment of silence, the subjugated Insecticon knelt before the spider-femme and offered her the crystals of Energon it had in its claws.

“You shouldn’t have.” Airachnid accepted it graciously.

“WHAT?!” Starscream shrieked. He marched out of his hiding place with indignant fury. “You reject a commander but grovel at the feet of that wretch?!”

The wretch smiled slightly. “Don’t get your turbines in a twist. After all, the beast and I are somewhat related. You might even say we are of one mind.”

The Insecticon chittered quietly as Starscream faced Airachnid, and the Seeker put his hands on his hips.

“Why are you here?” Starscream demanded. “Decepticons never return to stripped mines.”

“You are not the only rogue Decepticon in need of Energon,” Airachnid said, gesturing to her severed leg stump.

Starscream smiled. “Was it a run-in with the Autobots, or did Megatron invite you on one of his … field trips?”

“Megatron was otherwise engaged,” Airachnid replied, a sinister look gleaming in her eye. “But you should see his lackey.”

Smiling at her, Starscream put on his best negotiating face and offered a suggestion. “You know, Airachnid, as fellow outcasts, we should consider putting aside our differences.”

He gestured to the Insecticon. “With this creature under your control and at our disposal, we might employ it to terminate Megatron, allowing us to rule the Decepticons.”

“Together?” Airachnid asked in disbelief.

Starscream began to pace as he formulated a plan. “We would simply need to lure Megatron here, away from his support systems, so that we might catch him—”

“With his guard down?” Airachnid finished. She looked down at Starscream haughtily. “An intriguing proposal … if ruling the Decepticons or spending any length of time with you were of the slightest interest to me.”

Starscream spluttered in shock.

“Of course, you had me at ‘terminate Megatron,’” Airachnid continued, rubbing her hands together. “Payback would be … sweet.”

Starscream backed away slowly, his hands raised in deference. “However you wish to spin it,” he said nervously.

“I would need to ensure my assassin was up to the task,” Airachnid continued, gesturing to her Insecticon warrior. “Perhaps … a test run is in order.”

“What?!” Starscream cried. He knew exactly where this was headed. “I thought we were partners!”

Airachnid smiled as she gave the order to the Insecticon. “Eviscerate him!”

As the Insecticon approached the Seeker, Starscream’s mouth opened in a terrified scream that echoed through the caves.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Nova?”

The half-spark blinked wearily into the light above her head. “Hmm.”

“It’s time to get ready, sweetie. School starts in an hour.”

Nova’s eyes popped open, and she jumped awake in a terrible fright before remembering where she was.

“Oh! It’s you,” she said, sitting up and flipping off the blanket. “Uh … sorry for sleeping in.”

“It’s okay, honey. I know how much you need rest after everything that’s happened.”

Nova looked at her in silence for a moment. “Thanks.”

“You can take a shower and brush your teeth upstairs.” June glanced at her clothes. “Are you sure you want to wear those?”

Nova looked down at her faded blue jeans and her dark red hoodie. “What’s wrong with what I have?”

“It’s just … it’s just very hot in Nevada, hon,” June said.

“I don’t mind the heat.”

“And the clothes are a bit … plain for a teenager, don’t you think?”

Nova stared at her. “Why would that be a problem?”

“It isn’t. I just thought you’d want to make a good impression, is all.”

“I don’t care about that,” Nova said. “I couldn’t care less about what the other children think of me. But please, June,” she pleaded, a desperate look in her eyes. “Please don’t do this to me.”

“I’m doing this for you,” June said, her eyebrow raised skeptically. “But I understand your fear of going into a new school. Most teenagers feel that way.”

The half-spark stared at her blankly. “But—”

“Nuh-uh.” June gripped her firmly by the shoulder, for the half-spark was a little shorter than herself, and steered her toward the bathroom. “No ‘buts’. Now, get ready for school.”

“B-but,” Nova stammered, looking at the simple white tile of the bathroom floor. “But…”

“I said, no ‘buts’,” June said, thrusting a finger at her. “Get ready.”

Nova sighed in resignation. It’ll be nice to take a real shower again, I guess.  

“Thank you, June.”

She shut the door before June could answer and allowed a small smile to come to her lips. 

Being a teenager is simple, she thought. Just do whatever you don’t want to do with a large amount of griping.

Then, Nova turned her gaze to the mirror. 

It had been a long time since she had seen her own reflection. 

Surprised, the half-spark narrowed her eyes and peered at herself closely. Her brown braid was rather disheveled, and untidy wisps of hair had come undone around her ears again. Her skin was a little paler than she had expected, and the circles under her eyes were a rather startling development. Her eyes themselves were the same hazel-green she had remembered, but they looked so … sober, so serious. So old. 

The more Nova stared at them, the more unnerved she became. 

She put a hand to her cheek, tracing the edge of her jaw lightly. For a brief instant, she wondered if the other children would think she looked as odd as she felt.

“I don’t care,” she decided aloud, turning on the sink. “It doesn’t matter.” 

She glanced at herself once more before allowing her metal mask to slide over her face for a second.

It doesn’t matter.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Where’s Jack?” Nova asked as she came out of the restroom, braiding her hair fluidly.

“He’s waiting for you in the garage,” June replied. She smiled at Nova’s clean face. “You look a lot better!”

Nova’s gaze softened a bit as June held up a brown paper sack.

“I packed a lunch for you, sweetheart.”

Nova wished she would stop calling her names like that. It felt unnatural and put a twisting feeling in her stomach again. But she firmly grasped the paper sack handed to her, despite her weakening resolve. 

“You’d better go,” June said. “Can’t have you skipping your first day of school.”

“Right,” Nova replied briskly. Her mind was lost in worry as she made her way out to the garage. She didn’t know if she was up for this.

“Oh, before I forget, Nova,” June cried after the half-spark. “I work the late shift tonight, so we can talk about the funeral when I get home, but you’re going to have to wait up for me.”

Nova hesitated at the door, and a hopeful gleam entered her eyes. “Can I go to the base to wait for y—?”

“Of course not!” June replied. “We have you at our house to keep you away from there.”

The half-spark sighed, shoulders slumping. It was going to be a long day.

Jack was waiting in the garage, his helmet under his arm and his left hand gripping the handlebars of the sleek, blue motorcycle he always drove.

“Hey, Nova,” the motorcycle said, flashing its headlights at her.

Nova frowned. 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” she said to the motorcycle.

“Well, yeah,” Jack answered with a smile. “You didn’t expect my mom to drop us off, did you?”

Nova sighed. “Where’s the school?”

Jack frowned. “Huh?”

“Where’s the school, and how long will it take me to walk there?”

Jack shook his head. “You don’t need to walk. Mom figured you could ride with us since you have a built-in helmet.”

“No way,” she protested. “I mean, she’s your guardian, and--”

“It’s okay,” Jack said with a smile. “That’s just what friends are for, right, Arcee?”

“Not a problem, kid,” the motorcycle confirmed. “But we’d better get a move on if you want to make it in time.”

Nova closed her eyes for a moment. 

“Fine,” she relented, swinging her leg over Arcee as she sat behind Jack. Her helmet shifted up and fitted to her face, and she looked awkwardly at the boy’s shoulders in front of her. “Um, I’m not sure how I do this.”

“Oh, you’ve got some handles under your seat if you don’t wanna do … that,” Jack said, twisting to look back at her. “Believe me, I know how you feel. The first time Miko rode with us was the last time that will ever happen. Thought she was gonna break my ribs.”

Nova allowed herself to smile again, but she was confused as to why she had to buckle up in a three-point safety system when she rode with Optimus, but on this very small, very unprotected two-wheeled bike, all she had to do to “keep safe” was hang on to a little handle underneath her seat. 

Nova glanced down at the pavement directly below her, and the street glowered maliciously back.

“Can we go already?” Nova asked.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Once Jack pulled up to the school, Nova saw a large crowd of students already going in, and the double doors in the front of the brick building were propped open. The chattering and laughter of many people drowned out the noise of Arcee’s engine as she puttered to a stop, and a few people waved at Jack as he pulled into the parking lot. The half-spark made sure no one was looking before she ducked behind Jack and removed her helmet quietly.

“Um, what do we do now?” Nova whispered. “How are we supposed to do this?”

“We, uh, we just walk in,” Jack said, looking at her in disbelief. She nodded and continued to stare straight at the small school building before her. At the wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look on Nova’s face, Jack realized something for the first time.

“Nova, have you ever been in a public school before?”

“No,” said she. “Why?”

“Well, because… you don’t look like you know what to do at all,” Jack said.

“I don’t,” Nova replied in a monotone voice. “I don’t know anything.”

Jack raised his eyebrow. “So, let’s pretend you do.”

“Huh?”

“Follow me,” Jack said, hopping off Arcee and grabbing his helmet. “Just act natural, and I’ll show you the ropes.”

“They have ropes in public school?” Nova swung off the bike and followed behind the boy confusedly.

“Well, only in gym class,” Jack chuckled. “You’ll be all right here, Arcee?”

The headlights blinked on the motorcycle twice. Jack knew the drill. Arcee would project her hologram driver, Sadie, once the kids went inside, and as soon as the coast was clear, she would head back to base until it was time to pick him up later.

“Look, here comes Miko,” Jack said, pointing at the heavy-duty green car that rumbled down the street. 

Bulkhead blinked his lights at them as Miko flung off her seatbelt and jumped out of the car.

“Bye, Bulk!” Miko waved at the car as it pulled out. Then she turned to Nova. “Dude! I didn’t know June was making you come to school with us.”

“Neither did I,” Nova murmured. 

“You’ll be fine,” Jack assured her. “None of the students should give you any trouble. Hopefully.”

Miko smirked. “And if they do, Nova can put a fist full of half-spark awesomeness right up their—”

“Hey, guys,” a smaller voice said.

They all looked down at Raf.

“Hi,” Jack said amiably. “Ready to go in?”

“Sure,” Raf said. “What classes does Nova have?”

Jack pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his jeans. “Um, hold on … Mom gave me the schedule.”

Nova groaned inwardly. There was a schedule? How long was this school thing going to be?

Nevertheless, they approached the steps to the school leisurely. Nova tried to walk like her friends did, mimicking their slightly slouched postures and passive looks. She knew she just looked stupid.

They seemed to be staring at her. 

She nestled deeper into her sweater, wishing Optimus were with her. 

“Uh-oh,” Raf said, tugging on Nova’s arm. “Look out. It’s Vince.”

“Vince?”

“He’s the school tough guy.”

“Not for long, he isn’t,” Miko hissed as the red-haired boy approached them. “Nova’s gonna give ‘im a few pointers.”

“What do you guys think she’s gonna do, beat him up?” Jack whispered. “Just be quiet, ignore him, and he’ll go away.”

Nova tried to see who they were talking about, and her eyes widened as she caught sight of the green-jacketed boy swaggering towards them. “Oh, no.”

“S’matter?” Miko asked. “Is it the way he looks?” She snarled a little. “Don’t you just want to kick his scrawny little skidplate?”

“I think … I think I already did,” Nova said, her face pale.

“What?”

“Darby!” Vince barked, folding his arms and glowering at the group. “I see you brought your freak gang with you again.”

Nova yanked her hood up over her face.

“They go to school here, Vince,” Jack said. “Is that a problem?”

“It is for me. They’re a buncha nerds. And I don’t like the look on your face. It bothers me.”

“Didn’t know I meant that much to you, Vince,” replied Jack cooly. “Now, unless you’ve got a bigger problem here, I suggest you let us go inside. Class is about to start.”

Vince snickered. “‘Class is about to start,’” he said mockingly. “Gimme a break, Darby.”

“We’ll give you a few breaks if you don’t get the scrap outta here,” Miko snapped, edging her way between Jack and the bigger boy. “And believe me, we bring the hurt!"

“Back off, Ching-Chong,” Vince sneered, shoving Miko back by her forehead. “I’m only talkin’ to Darby. Why don’t you go eat noodles or something?”

Miko was fuming. Nova burrowed into her hood.

“Don’t talk to her like that, Vince,” Jack said firmly.

“Oh yeah?” Vince got up in Jack’s face. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Um, Jack?” Raf interrupted, tugging on the older boy’s sleeve. “The bell just rang. We have ten minutes to get to class before—”

“I know,” Jack said, refusing to back away from Vince. “But don’t worry. We’ll get to class without any more trouble,  right , Vince?”

“Aww, do you have to listen to your little baby friend now?” Vince rolled his eyes and shoved Jack out of his face. “Whatever, wimp. You’re not even worth my time.”

He swaggered away, and Nova breathed a sigh of relief.

She gasped a second later when Miko punched her in the arm.

“Dude, what was that?” Miko demanded. “We could have whupped his butt right here!”

Nova shook her head. “I can’t, Miko. I’ve … met Vince before.”

The girl raised her eyebrows. “When?”

“A few months ago,” she said, skipping the bit about going on a reckless solo mission to save Coby. “I  did  beat Vince up because he was threatening another kid for his lunch money or something.”

“Must have been Hendricks,” Jack muttered.

“That is such a middle school move,” Miko said, rolling her eyes. “But you beat up the toughest guy in the school! Yeah, man!” She pumped her fist in the air.

“But that means we can’t let Vince see her face, or there’s gonna be trouble,” Jack reminded her.

“Seriously? The whole school should know about this!”

“Speaking of school,” Raf cleared his throat and jerked a finger toward the building. “We have to go.”

“Right,” Jack said. He grabbed the crumpled schedule paper out of his pocket and glanced at the first item on the list. “Nova, you have first period with Raf. Math class.”

“I’ll take you there,” Raf said. And all four of them sprinted up the stairs into the school just as the bells rang.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

An alert pinged on the base’s computer screen.

“What is it?” Bulkhead inquired, coming to stand by Ratchet.

“A high-frequency signal,” replied the medic. “With an embedded message.”

“Again?”

They both knew who it was, but Ratchet opened the transmission and read the messenger’s name anyway.

“Starscream.” They both stared at the screen as Ratchet read aloud. “’I have obtained information of extreme interest to you. Bring medical kit.’”

“Looks like we’re goin’ again,” Bulkhead sighed. “Wonder which Con scrapped his lousy butt this time."

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Starscream groaned and clutched at his mutilated leg in the quiet of the woods, and raised his head slightly as a Groundbridge flared to life a few meters away. His transmission had worked, thank Primus. What had taken those brutish Autobots so long?

The big one, Bulkhead, came out first, his cannons at the ready.

“Clear,” he announced, waving the medic forward. Ratchet leaped out of the Groundbridge with his medical kit in hand, his expression calm as usual. 

Starscream winced slightly as Ratchet came forward to speak to him.

“Make it fast,” said the medic simply. There was not a shred of pity in his gaze.

Starscream didn’t waste words. He knew full well that if he failed to give these Autobot buffoons information they liked, he would fail to get repairs.

“It would appear that, like myself, Airachnid has gone rogue,” he revealed, as if the information was the most valuable gem of knowledge known to the ancients.

But the accursed medic scoffed. “What’s it to us?”

Starscream scrambled for a suitable answer. Anything to get these dimwitted idiots to repair his leg. 

“She is planning to retaliate against Meg—eh,” He stopped himself from blurting out the truth and settled for something more potent.

“—Man-kind,” he finished lamely. “I can provide you with her current location.”

“I don’t believe you,” Ratchet replied. 

Tri-curse the medic!

“Why wouldn’t you?!” Starscream responded. “I directed you to the location of the Decepticon Spacebridge so you could rescue Orion Pax, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but then you helped MECH steal Bumblebee’s t-cog,” Bulkhead growled.

Idiot, Starscream thought. The Autobot was too ignorant to know he had not approached those tiny flesh bags until the t-cog had already been stolen.

“So?” Starscream cried, more desperately. “He got it back, didn’t he?”

“Hmph,” Ratchet grumbled.

To the Seeker’s horror, the Autobots turned their backs on him and made a move for their Groundbridge.

Starscream resented being manipulated like this, but in desperate situations like this, he was not above begging to get what he needed.

“I admit!” he cried after them, stumbling to his feet. “I admit, aligning myself with those vile humans was a colossal error in judgment.”

Starscream noticed Ratchet’s hesitation, and raised his voice to sound more pitiful. It sometimes worked on Megatron, and it was always worth a shot. “But I am alone. I do what I must to survive.”

He fell to his knees and groaned loudly. “…But I have paid the price.” 

With the most dramatic flair and painful pretense he could muster, he made his grand announcement:

“I am now the one missing his t-cog.”

At this bit of news, both Ratchet and Bulkhead turned around.

“You’re grounded?” Bulkhead demanded in disbelief.

“Thus of little, if any, threat to you,” Starscream said, still kneeling on the ground. “But, Airachnid and her Insecticon intend to—”

“An Insecticon?!” Ratchet demanded. “Here?”

“How?” Bulkhead inquired.

“Well, I would have asked,” Starscream snapped, his patience wearing thin. “But I was too busy squeezing through a narrow crevice, trying to keep the vermin from chewing my leg off!” 

He growled at the memory. “While Airachnid watched.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova looked around the hallway timidly. She thought she was supposed to go to the lunchroom, since the bells had rung for the middle of the day, but she had lost track of where Raf and Jack had gone after her English class, and she had no idea where to go.

The children crowding the hallway were busy chatting with one another, leaning against the walls, or staring at their cellphones, completely oblivious to anything else. A select few loners were the only ones who seemed particularly interested in lunch, and were walking or sitting with paper sacks in their hands. Apparently, lunch time was a free-for-all.

Then, she felt a hand clap on her shoulder.

“You the new kid?” a voice asked.

Panicking, Nova whipped around and shot out a fist, connecting with something blunt. The stranger was sent sprawling to the floor, cupping his nose.

“What was that for?!” he demanded, wiping some blood away. “This was a new shirt –” 

He looked at her through crooked glasses, and the two suddenly recognized one another. 

“You?!”

“You?”

“Um,” Nova swallowed. “Hi. How are you.”

Ignoring her question, Hendricks scooted away, still trying to stem the blood flow. “What are you doing here? Don’t hurt me, please!”

“I’m so sorry!” Nova stepped forward, raising her hands. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You punched me in the nose!”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were trying to--”

“Nurse!” Hendricks blubbered, hauling himself to his feet and stumbling away. “Where’s the nurse? I’ve been hurt!”

His cries were attracting attention. Not bothering to wait for grownups to arrive, Nova turned around and bolted down the hallway, breathing hard. Things were getting out of hand. There were too many people, all looking at her. All trying to see—

Nova wasn’t watching where she was going, and almost crashed into someone else as she darted around the corner. 

“Ah!”

“Dude, what’s the matter? I mean, I’m scary, but not that scary.”

“Miko!” Nova cried, relief flooding her veins. “It’s you!”

“Yeah, last I checked.”

Nova nearly seized the girl by the shoulders. “Where were you?! I’ve been looking everywhere for someone I know!”

Miko looked confused. “Chillax, dude, I was just getting lunch.” 

She glanced down at the passing excuse for food splattered on her styrofoam plate. “I mean, if you can call it that.”

Nova put a hand to her head, wiping away nervous sweat. “Where are the others?”

“In the cafeteria,” Miko replied, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “It’s down the hall.”

Noticing her haggard face, Miko peered closely at Nova. “Are you okay? I haven’t seen anyone this torqued since Bulk thought there was a Scraplet in his room.”

“No, no, I’m fine, I just…” Nova looked around apprehensively, her voice lowering to a furtive whisper. “I’m not used to being around strange people.”

“You hang out with space aliens every day,” Miko pointed out.

“That’s different,” Nova protested. “You aren’t strangers. Not really. I don’t … I just don’t like being crowded. I mean, I don’t know anybody here, and I have to avoid the people I do know like the plague.”

“Well, you can hang out with me,” Miko said. “I’ll point out the important things for ya.”

Nova gazed at Miko as if she were a saint. “You will?”

“Abso-freakin’-lutely!” Miko cried, throwing an arm around Nova’s shoulder. “Anything for my bro.”

Nova frowned. “But aren’t we supposed to eat in the lunchroom?”

“Sure,” Miko said. “But the boys told me they lost you after English class, so I offered to pick up the slack, find you, and give you the grand tour.”

“Thanks,” said Nova. “It’s good to have a friend.”

Miko saw that her eyes still had that anxious, almost crazed look, as if she was suffering from sensory overload.

“So, what’s the problem?” Miko asked as they walked.

“I punched someone in the face,” Nova said softly, as if it was a secret.

“Why?”

Nova shook her head. “I thought he was trying to kill me. Now that I think about it, I’m sure he was just trying to be friendly, but he came up behind me and I got scared, and--”

Miko chuckled. “Oh, I get it.” 

She patted Nova on the shoulder. 

“Dude, what you need is a chill pill,” Miko said with a smile, dumping her tray in the trash and looping arms with her friend. “Trust me, getting through school will be a lot easier if you just relax.”

“I’ll try…”

They walked down the hallway, arm-in-arm, and Nova felt relieved to have someone to walk with. It made the hallways seem much smaller.

“See that girl over there?” Miko asked, pointing across Nova’s arms. “That’s Sierra, and her friend, Cassidy. Jack has the hots for Sierra.”

“The hots?” Nova scrunched up her forehead in confusion. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means he — ugh,” Miko growled in disgust. “Jack likes her.”

“Oh,” Nova said, her wide eyes turning toward the redhead. “Yes, he’s told me about her several times.”

“Yeah, he’s got it bad,” Miko nodded. “Gross, right?”

Nova made a noncommittal noise. She had never understood romance, and judging by her reaction to most of the men she had known thus far, it was likely to remain an utter mystery for a long time.

“Here’s the lunchroom,” Miko announced, pulling her in through the double doors. 

It was even more crowded than the hallways, if possible, and was exponentially louder due to the solid walls and cold tile floors. With the lunch ladies slinging slop in the front line, trash cans filled with the day’s reject entrees, and the general sense of barely-contained chaos, it had all the comforts of a prison mess hall. 

“There’s our nerds,” said Miko, pointing to a spot at the end of a long table. Jack and Raf sat at the corner, unpacking their sack lunches deliberately. 

Miko dragged the half-spark over to where the boys were sitting and shoved Jack aside. “Move over, dorks, we got a guest of honor here.”

“Nova!” Jack smiled at her as she took a seat. “Where were you? We lost track of you after English class.”

“I got lost,” she admitted, twisting her fingers. 

“Where’s your lunch, Miko?” Raf asked. 

“Tossed it,” Miko replied happily. “Fish sticks and expired ketchup aren’t my idea of food.”

She peered into Raf’s lunch bag. It was common knowledge that Raf always brought the best food to school. Though they had several children and a busy schedule, the Esquivel parents took the time to prepare lunch for each kid, usually with a few nice surprises inside. 

“Score!” Miko yelled pulling out a pack of cookies. “Can we split?”

“Sure,” Raf smiled. “If you share with Nova.”

Her mouth already full, Miko offered a cookie to the half-spark. “Mm?”

“No, thanks.” Nova put her head in her hands. “I’m not hungry.”

The three kids exchanged a look. 

Jack nudged her in the shoulder. “What’s the matter? You seem kind of down.”

Sighing, the half-spark pulled her hood over her head. “I just want to go home.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“The reason for our inability to locate Breakdown's signal is all too clear,” Megatron said, pacing back and forth in front of Dreadwing on the bridge of the Nemesis. “But how is it that you were unable to recover his remains?” 

Dreadwing’s shoulders slumped. He had failed at the one task Megatron had given him. Surely he did not have long to live on this earth. But before the interrogation could continue, Soundwave alerted Megatron from his place at the ship’s monitor.

"What is it?” Megatron asked. 

Soundwave opened the incoming transmission, and the lines on the screen danced with the waves of Airachnid’s voice as she asked a pertinent question.

“Heard from Breakdown lately?”  she inquired with sickly sweetness.

“Trace the communication,” Megatron ordered. Soundwave immediately set to the task, pinpointing the precise location as Airachnid continued.

“Megatron, truly. You sent simple henchman to terminate a high-ranking officer. I thought you reserved that honor for yourself.”

“Is that a challenge?” Megatron demanded angrily.

“An invitation,”  she replied cooly. “And since Soundwave is, no doubt, tracing this signal, you know where to find me.”

The transmission ceased, and the computer detected the signal's source at a certain place on the globe, in South America.

Megatron looked at it once and rose to his full height.

“I’ll be back,” he said curtly.

“Allow me to accompany you,” Dreadwing beseeched. Something was wrong. Airachnid was a traitor, but she was no fool. The sneaking spider would not have challenged Megatron in such a vulnerable state unless she knew she could win. 

But Megatron thoroughly squashed Dreadwing’s desire. “You already had your chance.”

With that, he strode off the bridge, leaving Dreadwing behind to mull over what should be done. 

Airachnid had brazenly challenged his leader to a duel, and Dreadwing knew that she would play by her own rules, leading Megatron straight into a trap. No matter what his lord had said, the Seeker knew he had to do something.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“The coordinates Starscream provided are within an abandoned Decepticon mine,” Ratchet reported, looking at the signal on the Autobots’ monitor.

“Hold on,” Arcee said from behind him, a twinge of anger in her voice. “You just fixed him up and sent him on his way?”

“What were we supposed to do?” Bulkhead defended. “Take him back here?”

Arcee just glared at him and Ratchet. 

“Not that I wouldn't jump at any chance to put Airachnid down,” she said, hate filling her voice. 

 “But she isn't the only one who's robbed me of a partner.” 

They all winced. The news of Cliffjumper’s murder at the hands of Starscream was all too fresh in their minds, and Arcee had not forgotten Airachnid’s termination of Tailgate eons before.

“You weren't there, Arcee,” Bulkhead said calmly. “Starscream was weak, defenseless.”

“And learning of the Insecticon could prove highly tactical,” Ratchet put in matter-of-factly. “Starscream's intel has proved credible in the past.”

The two-wheeler scoffed. “Sure, when he wasn't busy stabbing us in the back!”

The authoritative voice of their leader interrupted her harsh statement.

“Without the resources we possessed on Cybertron, we lack ready means of capturing and imprisoning our enemies,” Optimus said gravely. “Nonetheless, I do not condone the termination of any defenseless life-form.”

He had been in the back, organizing their Energon reserves and wondering how Nova was getting along in school. Today, it had been too quiet in the base for his liking. Now this information provided by Starscream also provided him with a distraction from his thoughts.

Still, his mind wandered. How would Nova interact with the other human children? She had told him about her run-in with Vince a while before. What if the same thing happened again? Of course, normally Optimus trusted her to resolve it with minimal conflict, but the recent event of her brother dying had put her in a state he was still unsure of.

He shouldn’t have let Nova go, not without making sure she was fit to be thrust into human culture. Letting her go had been foolish of him, but Ratchet had told him that this was the right thing to do. And June was a responsible adult, he reminded himself. Nova would be cared for.

Optimus only hoped she was holding up. He intended to have a long talk with her when she came back.

If she came back.

His thoughts faltered as he pored over a new possibility. What if Nova wanted to stay with June and the humans? He had never considered that risk before.

“So, what, we’re gonna go be pest control now?” Arcee asked, bringing him back to the present. “Is that the kind of thing we do nowadays?”

“If there is indeed an Insecticon on Earth,” Optimus replied, “And it is under Airachnid’s control, it could very well pose a threat to humans and Cybertronians alike. We must resolve this conflict before it becomes detrimental to anyone’s safety, including ours.”

The same was true with Nova, he thought, as the other Autobots prepared to roll out. What if her conflict was yet unresolved? And what if he never saw her again?

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The lightning rolled across the sky as Megatron sped through the roiling clouds, his Cybertronian jet-mode shrieking louder than the thunder around him. The lightning crashed within dangerous inches of his metal chassis, but he flew on unafraid as he journeyed to meet the spider's challenge. Airachnid would pay for her treachery, of that he would make certain.

Spotting the cave which Soundwave had located, Megatron shot downward and transformed within the cavernous space, his armor and limbs whirring into place as he got to his feet stoically.

Just before him, the two glowing eyes of Airachnid rose from behind a rock, followed by her streamlined body and lethal, razor-sharp appendages. A femme of her caliber could do serious damage to an ordinary mech. 

But Megatron was no ordinary mech.

“You don’t waste time,” she remarked observantly.

True to her statement, he raised his charged fusion cannon at her head. “Your stay of execution has come to an end!”

Before he could fire, an enormous weight slammed into his back and sent him into the ground. Struggling to get his bearings, Megatron found himself fighting for his life underneath the body of a huge Insecticon.

Though the gladiator had been caught off guard, he mustered his strength and threw the beast into the opposite wall, letting out a growl. 

Rolling to its feet, the Insecticon howled in bloodthirsty rage as it stalked a short distance away, glaring at him with a glowing red visor and a snarl of vengeful promise.

What in the Pit was an Insecticon doing here?

Chuckling, Airachnid jumped out of range of the two fighters and perched atop a rocky ledge. “I will leave you two to get acquainted.” 

Refusing to quail, Megatron returned his focus to the immediate problem. He would deal with this beast, and then he would deal with Airachnid the same way he always dealt with traitors — mercilessly.

He looked the Insecticon in the optics.

“Bow before Megatron,” he growled sternly. “Your leader. ”

The beast, unheeding, let loose a hideous shriek and launched itself at Megatron, its footsteps shaking the cavern.

Megatron raised his fusion cannon. “I said, ‘bow’—”

He was cut off by the beast lunging into his body, digging its sharp claws into his chest and launching him at the opposite wall. Not to be so easily toppled, Megatron landed on his feet and raised his head to glare into the beast’s eyes.

Very well, then. 

He readied himself, but the Insecticon charged through his defensive stance and grabbed his body in its powerful arms, pinning Megatron against the wall. Megatron struggled in its grip, his rage building as the pedipalps of the Insecticon wiggled closer to his face, its huge, sharpened teeth following just behind.

Lashing out, the warlord shoved the Insecticon back and raised his fusion cannon, blasting it in the chest as the Insecticon fell away with a roar.

It recovered quickly, and in an almost primal rage, the beast transformed head-over-heels into the alt mode of an enormous rhinoceros beetle. Its winged body hurtled toward Megatron with deadly force, its horn thrust toward the gladiator, intending to skewer him alive.

Unafraid, Megatron raised his fusion cannon again, but felt his arm thrown back by a glob of webbing plastered upon it, followed by another web fired from Airachnid’s wrists far above. 

Megatron glared up at her, but he had no time to retaliate.

The Insecticon took advantage of Megatron’s distraction and rammed the warlord up against the far wall, his body hitting the solid rock with a horrible  clang as he fell into the beast’s waiting clutches, dazed. The Insecticon did not give the Decepticon any time to recover, and launched him upward.

As Megatron hung suspended in midair, the Insecticon lashed out with its deadly claws and sliced a talon into Megatron’s shoulder, sending a spout of bright blue Energon into the air.

The warlord began succumbing to gravity, and the Insecticon rose into the air above him on opalescent wings before streaking downward at the speed of a bullet and launching its red lasers into his chest. Megatron hit the ground hard, and the Insecticon landed before him with a fury that shook the walls.

Silence descended as Megatron got to his feet, wiping the spilled Energon from his face and inspecting it briefly, as though he were curious about finding it there.

The Insecticon charged forward once again, counting on Megatron being severely weakened after the numerous attacks inflicted upon him, but the femme and the Insecticon were about to be surprised.

As the Insecticon leaped at him, Megatron swung his arm back and struck out at the beast, sending it flying to the other side of the cave with strength that would have put the proudest warrior to shame.

The Insecticon hit the wall and slowly slid to the ground, incapacitated for a moment, and Airachnid’s dark glee quickly gave way to shock as she looked about for a simple escape. If Megatron could best her Insecticon minion, she was surely doomed.

“You and your beast would do well to remember,” Megatron roared, “I honed my skills in the pits of Kaon!” 

But the Insecticon was not done yet. With another horrible screech, it lumbered to its feet and charged at the warlord for another attempt on his life, but this time, Megatron was ready. 

He flung out the blade beneath his fusion cannon, and ran to meet the Insecticon head-on.

The two titans collided in the center of the cave, and the sounds of their mighty struggle echoed through the entire cavern as a viridescent Groundbridge materialized outside.

The Autobots had arrived.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Nova?” Miko waved a hand in front of her friend’s listless face. “No-ova?” 

She snapped her fingers in Nova’s ear. “C’mon, dude, snap out of it."

“Nova,” Jack called, tapping her on the shoulder. “Hey, you ok?”

Startled, the half-spark snapped out of her trance. “What?”

“You spaced out,” Jack said, a concerned look in his eyes. “Like you didn’t even know we were there.”

“Oh.” Nova shook her head and smiled at them a little, trying to be reassuring. Miko thought it looked like a grimace. “I’m sorry. I lost concentration.”

“Yeah, we know,” Miko said, rolling her eyes. “The bell just rang for the end of school, and you didn’t notice. Do you even know what class you were in last period?”

“Um…” Nova thought for a second. “No.”

“Heh. Me neither,” concurred Miko, shrugging indifferently. “I just know it was boring.”

“It was science class,” Raf interrupted. “And the teacher tried to call on you twice, Nova, but you didn’t answer.”

“Did I get in trouble?” Nova asked.

Raf shook his head. “No. The teacher noticed you were a new student, so she let you sit on your own until class ended.”

Nova sighed in relief. “I was afraid I would have to go through detention with Miko.”

Miko squinted at her evilly. “It would have been the most fun you’ve ever had in school, and you know it.” 

“Anyway,” Jack said, bringing them back to the present. “The Bots shouldn’t be back for a few minutes, so we’ve got some time to kill.”

“How ‘bout we go outside?” Miko asked. “Cyber-kid here looks like she could use some air.”

“Okay,” Raf said. “We can always finish our homework out there.”

Miko gave him a look. “Homework? Yeah, right.”

“That sounds nice,” Nova said abruptly, her posture straightening a little. “Let’s go outside.”

Once the kids emerged into the daylight, the first thing they saw was the crowds of students milling about on the sparse green lawn, untended in the Nevada heat. The second thing they saw was Vince, standing on the steps in front of them, looking directly at Nova. 

The scowl on his face could rival Frankenstein.

“You!” he bellowed, marching up the steps and seizing Nova by the sweater. “You’re the little punk from the alley!”

Terrified, Nova shoved him back, sending the boy teetering toward the edge of the steps as the kids stepped in. 

“Back off, Vince!” Jack shouted. “What’s wrong with you?”

By this time, their little confrontation had drawn an audience, and the rest of the students crowded around the bottom of the steps, eager to view the spectacle. 

“Don’t fight!” Raf pleaded. 

“Kick his butt, Nova!” Miko yelled, raising a fist. 

Growling, Vince shoved Jack aside and reached for Nova again. Wide-eyed, she backed away, hitting the wall hard, but he seized her sweater and leaned in close, snarling --

“You’re gonna pay for making me look bad, you twerp!”

Instantly, armor shot out of Nova’s back and slammed around her torso. Glancing down, Vince released her sweater in alarm just before the closing metal chopped off his fingers. 

“What the--?!”

Teeth gritted, Nova raised a gauntleted fist, ready to strike him a blow that would most likely have resulted in a hospital visit, but Raf jumped in front of her and grabbed her hands in his little ones. Jack wedged himself in front of Vince, shoving him away. 

“I said, back off!” he yelled. 

“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” Students all around the schoolyard chanted, whipping out their phones to view the spectacle.

Vince broke free of Jack’s grip, thrusting a finger at Nova. “Did you see what that freak just did? She’s got some kind of weapon!”

Trembling, Nova pressed herself against the wall, her face white as a sheet. Every eye in the schoolyard was on her, her half-formed armor glinting in the hot sun. 

“Nova?” Raf asked, clutching her hands in his. “It’s okay. Just calm down…”

Fists clenched, Nova looked round at all of the eyes turned her way. She absorbed the looks of shock, disgust, fear, and her heaving breath caught in her throat. 

With every passing second, a scream built up in her lungs, and her body tensed beneath her armor, ready to run, fight, hide. She couldn’t calm down; she couldn’t think. Everything was happening too fast for her to stop. Her panic mounted higher and higher, boiling over and squeezing at her heart until she could no longer bear it.  

Huffing out a sob, she yanked her hands away from Raf and leapt over the side of the stairs, darting around the shadows of the building and bolting down the street. 

“Nova!” people yelled. “Nova, come back!”

Nova paid no mind. 

Her armor shot out further with every pounding step until it covered her completely. Her wild eyes were blurred with unstemmed tears, but she did not feel the impact of people, mailboxes, or signs as they caught her in passing. She just ran, and ran, and ran, until she could not run anymore, and she fell to the ground, consumed with sobs. 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Chapter Text

“We gotta go,” Miko cried an hour later, hopping into Bulkhead’s passenger seat and shutting the door.

“Why? What happened?” Bulkhead inquired.

“Nova’s gone! She ran away!”

“She did what?” Arcee demanded.

“She took off,” Jack explained, hopping onto the motorcycle. “Vince tried to fight her, and I guess she panicked.”

“You guess?” Arcee snarked.

“We have to go find her before she gets into trouble!” Raf cried, strapping himself into Bumblebee.

“I can hear Fowler now,” Bulkhead groaned. “’Prime! Why am I hearing news reports of a bite-sized Robocop tearing up the local Walmart?’”

“You think that’s bad?” Arcee growled. “I can already hear Optimus.”

Miko snickered. “’What have you done with my small, metal child?’”

Bumblebee beeped a question through the comms.

“No, way,” Bulkhead denied. “If we tell Optimus now, he’s gonna freak.”

“And a big rig barreling through a tiny desert town won’t exactly keep us off Fowler’s radar,” Arcee agreed. “We have to try and find her ourselves.”

“Well, she can’t have gone far,” Bulkhead asserted. “Which way did she go?”

“Uh, last we saw her, she was running that way,” Jack pointed. “Toward the edge of town.”

All three of the Bots were silent for a moment.

“If I were a frightened child in need of immediate help from someone I trusted,” Arcee mused. “Where would I go?”

“Home,” Jack answered matter-of-factly.

The children looked at one another, then all three of the vehicles swung around and headed north, speeding towards the base.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Dreadwing transformed and landed on the deck of the Nemesis beside Megatron as the rain pelted down around them.

“Will you be all right unaccompanied, my lord?” the new second-in-command asked, noticing his leader stumble upon transformation.

“Indeed, Dreadwing,” Megatron replied. “I must attend to some business on the bridge. Ensure that Knockout knows of the new development, won’t you?”

“He has not been informed of his partner’s death?” Dreadwing asked incredulously.

“As I understand it, our medical officer has been occupied in the infirmary since before the mission was launched,” Megatron replied. “Soundwave informed me that Knockout had not heard of the incident at the time of my departure.” 

He looked at his second-in-command authoritatively, though his gaze was full of weariness that could not be concealed by the rain. “Take care of this matter for me, won’t you?"

Dreadwing was silent for a moment.

“It shall be done, my lord,” he said finally.

Megatron nodded at him, and with a slight limp in his gait, he walked into the warship without another word.

Dreadwing followed at a much slower pace, trailing his master until they entered the shelter of the hangar doors and came to where the main hallway split. Megatron walked towards the bridge on the right, and Dreadwing, after hesitating for an instant, took the left passageway and continued until he came to the door of the medical bay, shrouded in shadows cast by the violet lights.

The door slid open, revealing the crimson-coloured medic leaning over a damaged piece of machinery resting on the table before him. Knock Out was not only the sole medical expert onboard the Nemesis; he was also the most qualified repairman, as of late, so everyone on the warship was expected to report to him when they encountered faulty machinery anywhere.

Needless to say, this had taken a toll on the medic’s patience.

“Dreadwing, so nice of you to drop in,” he said sarcastically, standing up from his work. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit? You’ve got a faulty landing strut, I suppose? Broken tail-rudder, perhaps?”

“I came to speak with you,” Dreadwing replied calmly. “About a matter of some importance."

Knock Out leaned away from the table and arched his back, stretching wearily. “Look, whatever it is, I’m sure Lord Megatron can wait it out for a few minutes. Could you do me a solid, and send Breakdown in here when you get the chance? My finish is looking very shoddy after all the slaving I’ve had to do in here today.”

“Breakdown is not coming,” responded Dreadwing flatly.

Knock Out sighed, fiddling with the machinery on the table. “Megatron got him busy monitoring the miners again?”

“No, he … is not with us.”

There was a silence as Knock Out looked up at the Seeker. “Didn’t Breakdown come back with you?”

Dreadwing shook his head silently.

The medic stopped moving, his face frozen into an expression that Dreadwing could not read. His wide-eyed gaze was directed at the Seeker’s face, but with no comprehension. He was looking, but no longer seeing.

“He’s … gone, isn’t he.” Knock Out said. It was not a question.

“Breakdown was terminated, yes,” Dreadwing confirmed. “Despite all my efforts.”

Knock Out did not respond immediately, instead, his body turned listlessly to the table once again as he placed his hands on the edge of the slab.

“Who did it?” he asked, very quietly.

“Knock Out, I—”

“Who did it?!”

Dreadwing did not know Knock Out well, but he knew better than to argue.

“It was Airachnid,” he said.

“Airachnid,” Knock Out repeated, turning to the table once again. “That web-spinning witch.”

“I am … sorry for your loss,” Dreadwing said. Decepticon though he was, his sympathy was genuine. He remembered how angry he had been when he had felt his spark-brother die. Grief had racked his soul for stellar cycles. He suspected that Knock Out could only feel the same as he had in those dark days.

But to his surprise, the medic chuckled.

“Sorry?” he repeated with a hiss. “Oh, I’m sure you are.” 

He clutched a wrench in his hand, his teeth clenched in a ghastly grimace. “As if you Decepticons could ever feel anything for anyone else. You’re sorry!” he growled again. “That’s a laugh.”

“I am.”

Knock Out shook his head. “No, you’re not.”

Dreadwing moved towards the door. “Be that as it may, my errand here was not to comfort you,” he said. “It was merely to impart the news of the incident. I suggest you return to your duties. Megatron will be expecting your report at the end of the cycle.”

Knock Out said nothing, so Dreadwing turned without another word, and left.

But once the Seeker had exited into the hallway, he heard a loud, screeching crash, as if something had been thrown off of a table, and it was followed my many others in similar fashion. Above the next few crashes came the yelling — frantic, angered yelling. The shouting and the chaotic noises of the medibay being thoroughly and systematically demolished rang loudly out into the hallway, at least until the Second in Command had passed out of earshot.

And soon, the violent sounds were replaced by a much quieter noise.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Ratchet glanced up as the three guardians rolled into the base and came to a stop above the Autobot symbol painted on the tiles. 

“Back so soon?” he groused. Usually, the more socially inclined among them stayed out for hours after school. Whenever possible, they took the children out for milkshakes, or joyrides, or a drive-in movie, or whatever young humans liked to do for fun these days.

“We have a situation,” Arcee said, transforming. 

“What is it?” Ratchet demanded, instantly reaching for his toolkit. “Is someone injured?”

“It’s the kid, Ratch,” Bulkhead explained, depositing Miko in the human corner with the others. “She’s gone AWOL.”

“Nova’s missing?” asked Ratchet. “You mean to tell me you have no idea where she is?”

“Well, we were hoping she’d turn up here,” Jack said, leaning on the railing. 

“Well, if she’s entered the base, none of my sensors picked up on it,” Ratchet snorted. “How could you three lose track of a child?”

“She freaked out at school,” Miko said, standing next to Jack. “Vince picked up on who she was, and she ran off--”

Ratchet whipped around. “Someone recognized her?!”

“Apparently she’d run into him before,” Jack explained. “We didn’t know it, either.”

“So, now she’s running around out there with no defenses, no Energon, and no Groundbridge?” Ratchet demanded. “How could we let this happen?”

The three kids looked at him. 

Ratchet gave a sigh, putting a hand to his head. “Yes, yes, I suppose this is partly my fault.”

“We can decide whose fault it is later,” Arcee said firmly. “Right now, we need to pinpoint her location before Fowler gets called in for damage control.”

“Speaking of damage control,” Raf said, pulling out his laptop with a sigh. “I’d probably better start erasing some of the videos we’re about to see.”

“Videos?!” Ratchet cried. 

“Oh yeah,” Miko nodded. “Some of the kids got a camera full of Nova’s tin shirt.”

“I’m already on it,” Raf piped up, before Ratchet could have an aneurysm. “In a couple of minutes, those videos will be deleted from existence forever.”

“I gotta call my mom,” Jack muttered, pulling out his phone. “I can’t believe Nova wouldn’t come back to the base. She really seemed to miss everyone…”

“Maybe she thinks we don’t miss her,” Raf pointed out. 

Sighing, Jack put the phone to his ear. “Mom. I know you’re busy at work right now, but if Nova comes back to our house, please call us.”

“Any luck finding her signature?” Arcee asked, approaching the medic as he typed at his monitor. 

Ratchet grumbled. “She must have switched off her tracker. I can’t get a fix on her vitals or coordinates. Until she calls us or loses Energon, she’s as good as missing.”

“Who is missing?” 

Everyone froze at the sound of the baritone voice, and all eyes turned to the storage hallway as Optimus entered the room, carrying a few cubes in his arms. 

“Scrap,” Arcee said under her breath. 

At the petrified looks on their faces, Optimus tilted his head. “What is wrong?”

Everyone started to speak at once. 

“Um…”

“Well, you see, what happened was--”

“We didn’t mean to let her get away, she just flipped out, and--”

“—can’t find her until her tracker comes online--”

“—trying to erase the videos—”

“Vince was the only one who recognized her--”

“--thought we should try to find her first--”

“--figured she’d come back here, but--”

“She’s gone,” Ratchet finished. 

Optimus was silent for a moment, looking them each in the eye.

One by one, they looked away, until everyone was staring shamefacedly at the ground. 

“How long has she been gone?” he inquired quietly. 

His voice was too low; his words too clipped. 

“About three hours, now,” Raf reported meekly. “It’s six o’clock.”

Sunset hour.

With a nod, Optimus put down the cubes and straightened to his full height. 

“Then there is no time to be lost,” he said, striding to the exit tunnel. “Arcee, Bumblebee, you will assist in the search. Ratchet, you and Bulkhead continue monitoring for her signal. Notify me the instant you find anything.”

His orders were met with sharp “yessirs” as everybody scrambled to obey. Arcee and Bumblebee transformed and sped out of the tunnel behind the big rig, headlights on full as they began the search anew. 

“Nova, this is Ratchet,” the medic said into the commlink. “Do you read?” 

No response came. 

“Scrap,” the medic swore, trying again. 

“Why the big rush, Ratch?” Bulkhead wondered. “I mean, I get that Optimus is worried, but Nova’s a smart kid. She can take care of herself, right?”

“Maybe when she’s with us,” Ratchet replied. “But right now, Nova is alone, exposed and very likely irrational. Besides, we are not the only ones on this planet who scan the globe for Energon signatures.”

Bulkhead growled. “The Cons.”

“Precisely,” Ratchet nodded. “Nova is uncloaked, and they probably have her unique biosignature in their database. We must find her before they do, or we will very likely have two dead half-sparks on our hands.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Soundwave,” Megatron said, “What is this matter you saw fit to bring to my attention?”

The silent comms officer turned away from his computer to reveal a pinging signal on the monitor screen. 

“An Energon signature?” Megatron asked, leaning on the console heavily. “Alone?”

Soundwave gave a single nod.

“One of ours?”

Turning to his master, Soundwave’s visor lit up and displayed a picture of the half-spark, which had been taken during her brief captivity aboard the warship. 

“Ah,” the warlord said. “It appears Optimus Prime’s pet has wandered too far from home.” 

Soundwave turned back to the screen, attempting to track the location of the signal. It was stuck somewhere in the middle of Nevada, flickering and unsteady, jumping across a small area as the computer struggled to pinpoint the exact position of the little half-breed. 

“I was not aware you could detect the locations of our enemies,” Megatron smiled wryly, glancing sideways at the CO. “Marvelous work, Soundwave.”

Soundwave’s only response was a curt nod. He was rather good at surprising Megatron when the warlord needed a bit of good news.  

Soundwave himself had been pleasantly surprised earlier that day when Dreadwing had predicted their master’s disadvantage in the fight against Airachnid, and had chosen to take action rather than wait for power to fall into his hands. 

Dreadwing had only needed to ask Soundwave for a Groundbridge once, and the CO had been happy to oblige. In Soundwave's experience, first lieutenants tended to come and go, but it was refreshing to have a new recruit who cared for Megatron’s well-being for once, even if said recruit was a bit of a fool. 

Still, one had to wonder how long it would take for Dreadwing to desire the position of leader for himself. The new SIC would need to be closely monitored despite his loyalty -- or perhaps because of it. Soundwave hated a suck-up.

“I think that the retrieval of this little halfling would be very beneficial to our cause,” Megatron continued. “Prepare the Groundbridge. I will be back shortly.”

He took two steps, and immediately buckled. 

At the sudden crash, Soundwave turned from the console to see his leader sprawled out in a rather undignified position on the floor.

Evidently, the Insecticon had dealt more damage than the warlord had assumed. Gladiator though he was, Megatron had his limits. 

“I think … a trip … to the medibay … would be very beneficial to our cause,” Soundwave quipped through his collection of recorded phrases as he shut off the monitor. 

“I do not need a physician,” Megatron growled, getting stubbornly to his feet. “I need an advantage. Optimus manages to outpace me at every point, though he commands a team of incompetent, bumbling little--”

Sudden pain cut off his words and caused the warlord to sway to the side, barely able to stay upright, and Soundwave decided to make an executive decision as the second-most-dangerous Decepticon on board. 

“I will … send a squadron to … retrieve… the half… spark,” he offered. “With permission.”

Megatron snarled. “I can manage.”

As if amused, Soundwave tilted his head. 

“With respect … you cannot.”

Megatron opened his mouth to protest, but stumbled before the words could make their way into the air. Soundwave stepped forward to catch him, locking his arms around Megatron’s shoulder in such a way that he could bear the immense weight of the warlord. Megatron let out a noise of frustrated pain, but was obliged to lean heavily on his CO to keep upright. 

Once they had teetered into a tentative sort of balance, Megatron bowed his head wearily, letting out a deep sigh as his pretense of strength failed. Soundwave considered it fortunate that no troops had been assigned to the bridge until later in the day. Had they witnessed this moment of vulnerability, they would not have seen daylight again. 

“Very well,” the warlord said softly. “Send a squadron to fetch her. If they fail, at least it will send a warning to Prime that his negligence will not go unnoticed. Once her safety is called into question, he will be plagued with fear.” 

He let out a derisive chuckle as he spat out the words, “Love is so easily exploited.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova looked down at her lengthening shadow, stretching out over the dust, and dimly began to realize that it was getting dark. 

Wearily, she got to her feet and wiped the streaks of tears from her dirty face, filling her lungs with a deep breath. Crying is all well and good in the moment, but once you’re done crying and your mind is more clear, you still have a problem to fix, and you need to decide what must be done about it.  

Forming her helmet again, the half-spark scuffed her feet in the dirt, mumbling to herself, “What am I going to do?”

Her mind drew a blank. 

“Well… I’m not going back to June,” she processed aloud. “I can’t go to Fowler. He could lock me up, or report me, or he might get mad at Optimus…”

Optimus.

A spark of hope flared within her. If there was anyone she wanted to see in that moment, it was Optimus. 

But he isn’t here, her mind insisted, her gaze drifting to her hands as the spark faded. He sent you away.

Her half-heart ached to think of her friends. At this time of day, she would probably be helping Ratchet with the last few chores and listening to the kids’ stories from the school day, or she would be with Optimus somewhere, asking him questions or just sitting near and watching him work. She missed all of them, even Ratchet, but she missed her guardian the most. 

And she missed Coby.

Despite herself, she began to cry again. It was a dry, painful sort of crying, without many tears, just long, hollow sobs which clutched at the ribs and bruised the heart.

Nova hadn’t really allowed herself to think about Coby all day, but his last moments were always lingering in her mind, repeating over and over again and reminding her of the hole in her heart.

Gritting her teeth, Nova forced herself to take another breath, her sobs subsiding out of sheer fatigue.

Though her armor was pulled tight around her body, it felt weak; limp, as though she were covered in mere tissue paper. Her bleary eyes wandered from one thing to another. Her breath hitched in exhausted lungs, and her spent limbs trembled even as she stood upright. 

The fact that she needed Energon had become increasingly hard to ignore. Normally, she required very little of the precious substance, and her circulatory system was able to efficiently recycle it just as it did her regular blood, but the last few days had been long, and tiring. She’d been burning Energon more than usual by keeping her armor so taut, and had just spent most of her remaining reserves by running away. 

She sniffed, her eyes downcast. 

I want to go home. 

Home. Home did not apply out here. Home was not Jasper. Home was not the desert. Home was not even the planet. 

Home was safe. Home was with Optimus.

And once she finally had a chance to taste what having that home had been like, another hole opened up in her heart as she realized it had been taken away. 

What did I do so wrong? Why were they trying to get rid of me?  Do they even care about me?

She shook her head. Of course they cared about her. 

Right? 

Ratchet had fixed her up multiple times, taking care to approach her with more patience than he generally afforded the others. Bulkhead and Bumblebee had talked and joked with her, Arcee had even confided in her on occasion. 

And of course Optimus was her friend. He had rescued her, protected her, watched over her. He loved her, didn’t he?

Didn’t he?

Why would he? a small, bitter voice whispered. You don't belong with them. You disgust them. You’re an abomination. How could they ever consider you one of them? You’re a monster. 

Nova shook her head harder, trying to shake her thoughts off like the sand on her skin. But doubt crept into her mind on silent feet. The half-spark squeezed her eyes shut and jammed her hands into her arms, stubbornly refusing to look at herself.  

A monster. 

And, she thought with a bitter twinge, That’s exactly what Silas made you to be. 

The thought stopped her in her tracks. The sand felt rough beneath her shoes. Her low-lidded eyes stared at the ground.

I could just … run away.

It was an enticing idea. She would no longer have to worry about anyone or anything except herself. She would never have to hurt anyone ever again. Once she was gone, she could try to lure MECH away. Maybe Silas would leave the Autobots alone, and she would cause pain for them nevermore. 

The thought was almost freeing. 

Almost. 

But a more rational part of her knew that Cylas had found his new favorite toy. Cybertronian biology was his new obsession; the thing he had been working to create his entire career. And now the Autobots had been handed to him on a silver plate. He would never let them go. Just like he would never let her go. 

Nova sat down again, thinking this over. 

She hated the idea of leaving the base for good. After all that had happened to her, all they had sacrificed for each other, all she had tried to do with them…

And all the warmth she felt when they were around…

Her heart broke just thinking about it. 

But I don’t want to hurt them. 

I can’t stay.

A sudden roar in the sky yanked her nerves on end. She jumped to her feet, her head spinning with the sudden altitude change, and her armor struggled to tighten itself around her core and head as she cast her gaze skyward. 

Decepticons. Six of them, flying in perfect formation overhead. 

Suddenly, the darkness seemed less of a comfort and more of a threat; surrounding her, pressing in on all sides, separating her from everyone else. 

Breathing hard, Nova looked around. There were very few places to hide in the desert.

In the failing light, she could barely see a thing, but she knew from her trek that there was nothing around her for a great distance but sand and prickly bushes. The mountains were within sight, dark shadows flung against the deepening blue sky, but even if she ran she could never reach them in time. The road, too, had been lost; she had left it far behind in her blind rush for freedom. 

Desperately, Nova dove for the ground and crouched as best she could beneath a larger bush, wild eyes gazing heavenward as the Decepticons flew closer. 

Maybe this is just a coincidence, she thought, her chin pressing into the sand. Maybe they aren’t after me at all. Maybe if I hold still, they’ll go away. 

The thudding of her heart seemed louder than the sound of their approaching engines, and it leapt straight into her mouth as the roaring tapered off, giving way to the transformation noise she knew so well. 

One, two, three, the Vehicons landed, their feet sending up clouds of dust. Four, five, six, they hit the ground, right beside her. A few feet closer, and she would have been flattened by a giant metal foot.

Her helmet snapped back, and Nova clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasps, staring up at the Vehicon’s leg with gritted teeth. One glint of a searchlight on her armor would give her away. 

Sweating, arms trembling as they tried to hold their position, Nova forced herself to hold her breath. One by one, her armor plates began to recede, folding away into her spine as she kept her head in the dirt. 

“Welp, we came all the way out here, and I don’t see slag,” one of the Vehicons announced. “You guys think Commander Soundwave pranked us?”

“Soundwave? No way,” one of his comrades fired back. “If he said this is the place; this is the place.” 

“Spread out,” the furthest Vehicon ordered. “Lights on full. It can’t have gone far. Human legs are so tiny.”

Nova shuffled back as the Vehicon’s leg swung forward, narrowly missing her body by a couple of inches. Six searchlights blinked on, bathing the sand and bushes in their harsh, white glow. Nova trembled, keeping her hand clamped over her mouth. She began to gulp down breaths to stay quiet, and her lungs felt like they were on fire. Her heart raced in her chest. 

“What do we do with the human once we find it?” one of the Vehicons asked, sweeping his searchlight wide. 

“Lord Megatron’s instructions were to bring it in alive,” the first Vehicon reported. “But he said he’s open to other options.”

The others laughed. 

Nova bit her knuckles between her teeth. 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

In the middle of his drive, Optimus was taken wholly off guard as a flare of hot panic stabbed through his Spark. For an instant, the bewildered Prime wondered whether his systems were malfunctioning, but the next moment he recognized the unfamiliar feeling of the half-spark's soul. She had not been seen or heard from for at least four hours now. 

“Arcee, Bumblebee,” he commed. “Have either of you found anything?”

“Not a trace,” Arcee replied. 

Bumblebee buzzed a negative. 

Optimus sighed. “Keep trying.”

He switched off the comms, his headlights flaring into the darkness as he drove. 

Where was she? 

She wasn’t dead, he knew that much for certain. He would not allow for that possibility. 

“Optimus,” Ratchet cried into his comms. “I’m detecting six Decepticon energy signatures to the east, about three klicks.” 

Without hesitation, Optimus swerved to the east, his engine roaring. “Arcee, Bumblebee, follow Ratchet’s directions and meet at my position.”

“You got it.” 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova flattened herself further, the fingers of her right hand digging grooves into the dirt. Adrenaline throbbed in her veins, prepping her weary muscles to run, to fight, to survive.

Her whole body was shaking like a leaf, now. The Vehicons had surrounded her on almost every side. The only way out was nearly blocked. 

Quietly, forcing herself to remain on the ground, Nova began to creep back, scooting toward the dwindling blind spot. 

“If only we had some apples,” one of the Vehicons muttered, weaving his searchlight back and forth among the desert flora. “The fleshies on TV always love apples.”

“What kind of kooky movies have you been watching?” his partner demanded. “Everyone knows humans don't eat at nighttime.”

“Oh, great. So it’ll be even harder to catch.”

All at once, a low-reaching bush dug its needles into the skin of her exposed neck, and Nova let out a strangled cry. 

“What was that?”

The white light blasted into her wide-open eyes.

Blinded by the sudden exposure, Nova leapt to her feet and bolted away, making a mad dash with no destination in mind. She could not stop, she could not turn around. She only had to outrun them. 

“The fleshie!” 

“Grab it!”

“Keep your light on it, Jake!” 

“I’m trying!”

“I got it, I got it!”

Something moved in front of her in the darkness, and Nova slammed into something hard. Without her armor, her body came into full contact with the Vehicon’s leg, sending a dull burst of pain through her skull. 

Stooping, The Vehicon reached down before she could escape and pinned her against himself with his free hand. 

“Nice work, Spence,” his comrade congratulated him as he lifted her from the ground. “Guess fleshies aren’t as intimidating as we thought.”

“Careful,” another warned, pointing to her half-formed gauntlets. “I think this one’s still got teeth.”

As promised, Nova let out a blast of laser into the Vehicon’s face, and he nearly dropped her, swearing. 

“Frag!” he howled. “Gah! She shot me in the eye, holy slag!”

“Gimme that,” his partner snapped, grabbing Nova in such a way that her arms were pinned to her sides. “One of you bozos comm the ship for a Groundbridge. Tell them we got a tiny package for the interrogation unit.”

At the sound of these words, Nova let out a growl, thrashing in the Vehicon’s two-handed grip to no avail. 

“Let me go!” she screamed. “Augh! Put me down!” 

“It’s making a lot of noise,” a Vehicon muttered. “Should we shoot it?”

“You bolthead!” the one holding her fired back. “It’s harmless. We don’t need to shoot it unless it escapes.”

A hurtling object of red slammed into him before he could say another word, and Nova found herself sailing into the air as the drone lost his hold on her. 

She twisted in the air, trying to get a view of the ground before she hit it, but she needn’t have worried, because someone scooped her up and held her close, durasteel hands closing around her firmly. 

Thinking it was another enemy, Nova fought against its hold, but the most wonderful sound in the world stopped her at once. 

“Nova,” Optimus said. “I am here.”

Looking up, tears welling in her eyes, Nova let out a choked noise. “Optimus?” 

His kind eyes shone down at her as she gripped his thumb, but a barrage of lasers interrupted their reunion as the Vehicons fought for what they had hoped would be an easy kidnapping. 

Optimus raised an arm, protecting Nova as he ducked to the side. 

“Hang on to me,” he instructed, placing her on his shoulder. Nova did so, her fingers gripping his finial tightly as he dove into the fray. 

Lasers flared, swords rang, and metal screeched with the impact of fists as Optimus took on the paltry number of assailants with ease. 

Within minutes, the Vehicons had all been destroyed, and their smoldering corpses littered the ground. 

Arcee and Bumblebee arrived a few seconds later, weapons at the ready as they transformed. 

With a glance at the dead Vehicons, Bumblebee buzzed something to the effect of, “I guess you handled it,” and walked over to Optimus. 

The Prime was busy with the half-spark, who had begun to cry afresh as she clung to him. 

“You came back for me,” she sobbed, shaking. “You came back…”

"Yes," Optimus assured her. "Everything will be all right."

Tears streaming into her helmet, Nova closed her eyes and leaned her head against the Autobot’s face wearily, breathing a heavy sigh.

With a glance at the others, Optimus raised a finger to his comms. “Ratchet, send a Groundbridge. We are coming home.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Optimus, could you come and verify this status report we have on the Energon supplies?” Ratchet asked a while later as he typed away at the monitor screen.

There came no response.

“Optimus?” Ratchet turned around. 

The kids were occupied playing video games, Arcee had gone into an early recharge, and Bumblebee and Bulkhead had taken up a position behind the children, cheering on their respective charges as they played the familiar racing game.

Ratchet walked over to the “human corner.”

“Have any of you seen Optimus?” he asked.

“He’s in the back,” Bulkhead replied, his eyes on the game. "I think he was helping Nova bury her brother."

“Well, I need him for these reports,” Ratchet said, gesturing to the computer. 

"Cool,” Miko said, tonguing the inside of her cheek in concentration as she tried to beat Raf. “Could you go find him yourself, Doc? We’re trying to play.”

Ratchet considered using the wrench, but decided it would probably be less messy (and less illegal) if he just forced her to do some chores later. 

With a gruff snort, he turned away and approached the storage hallway at the back of the base. 

He did not have to go far to find Optimus.

The Prime was sitting within his modest quarters, one-handedly catching up on some work with their only operational datapad.

Upon a closer inspection, Ratchet could see the residual dirt between the Prime's finger joints, likely from their impromptu burial a few hours ago. Next to him, resting beneath his free hand, was a bundled-up half-spark, sleeping peacefully under his careful watch. 

Thinking better of interrupting them, Ratchet withdrew from the room and walked back outside. The inventory reports would just have to wait until the morning. 

Chapter Text

Nova woke to the familiar sounds of an Energon pump, and Ratchet muttering to himself.

Eyes springing open, she raised her head, clenching her fists at the sight of medical tools. 

She took in a deep breath, steadying herself, praying this was not a nightmare.

“Old man?” she yelled. 

Sure enough, the red-and-white mech came into view, adjusting the machine that ran Energon through the tube in her arm.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning? How long was I asleep?” Nova asked, sitting up on the table.

“Yip-ip-ip! No moving! Not until I say so,” Ratchet ordered, making her lie down again. “You’ve been asleep for five days. Optimus was starting to get worried.”

“So, I was asleep for the whole week?” Nova asked. She reached up to touch her face. “My cuts are gone.”

“Courtesy of your rather frustrated local physician,” Ratchet replied, pointing to himself. “Were you aware, young lady, that your Energon levels had dropped to only five percent in the time it took for June to ‘humanize’ you? You wore yourself disgracefully thin. If you weren’t such a small person, and liable to fall apart at the slightest reprimand, I’d be angry with you.”

Nova sighed, clasping her hands on her stomach and gazing up at the ceiling. “I just had a rough week.”

“I should say so. That means you need to be even more careful than usual. You need to take good care of yourself if you are ever out of my sight, understand? Until then, you have to do exactly as the doctor says, or he will get angry.”

“Yes, Ratchet."

“And you won’t get up from that bed until my diagnostics are through.”

“Yes, Ratchet.”

“And you won’t go anywhere without telling me or Optimus.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Ratchet narrowed his eyes. “What was that?”

Nova suppressed a smile. “Sorry.”

“‘Sorry’ my skidplate. Do you know how much you put us through these past few days?”

“Yes, Ratchet.”

“No, you don’t. I had to send Optimus on an Energon scouting mission earlier just so I could keep him from you. You may have been resting these past few days, but Optimus wasn’t. When it counts, he can be almost as protective as I am.”

“Yes, Ratchet.”

“He wouldn’t even recharge, because he had to watch you. Now hold still.” He raised the scanner to her body. “You know what to say to that?”

“Yes, Ratchet?”

“Very good.”

“Can I go out to the cliff?”

Ratchet looked at her skeptically. “What if you fall?”

She shrugged. “Never fell before.”

“What if you jump?”

Nova glared at him. “Suicide. Really?”

“It’s possible. Arcee considered it once, after Cliffjumper died.”

“I’m not Arcee,” Nova said. “I won’t jump. I just want to go up there and clear my head for a few minutes, okay?”

After a minute of reflection, Ratchet shut off his scanner and put it away.

“I will allow it,” he said. “But I’m going to send someone out with you.”

“Oh, Ratchet—”

“No. You say ‘Yes, Ratchet,’ and that’s it,” he snapped.

“Yes, Ratchet.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Five minutes later, Nova dangled her legs high above the ground and stared into space as she sat on the edge of the cliff above the base. It was her favorite sitting place, a little ways away from Cliffjumper’s rock pile, but close enough to allow conversation with it on some days.

Nova hadn’t known Cliffjumper, and she did not like to tread upon Arcee’s sacred ground, but some days, when she felt very sad, and if Optimus was busy, she would come out to the cliff, and she would dangle her legs, and sometimes, she would talk to the rocks. It wasn’t any substitute for a real friend, but Nova preferred it to nothing. Cliffjumper was a good listener.

But today, she had nothing to say. The half-spark still felt tired, even though she’d already slept for a while, and she didn’t feel like talking to anyone who wouldn’t respond.

In her zoned-out state, Nova hardly noticed Bulkhead’s approach until he was right next to her.

“Uh, hey,” he said simply, taking a seat.

Nova broke from her trance, glanced at him, and stared out at the world again. “You got the short straw?”

“Yeah, uh, Ratchet told me to come out here and make sure you didn’t fall, or something,” Bulkhead explained. “Not sure why he asked me. This is kinda Arcee’s spot, you know?”

“I know,” Nova said, looking over at the rocks. “She comes out here a lot.”

“You, uh, slept for a while.”

“Mm.” Nova grunted, staring into space.

Bulkhead looked after her gaze, down the road that led to Jasper. “Um. Nice day, huh?"

Nova nodded.

“Yeah,” Bulkhead tried to think of something else to say. “Did you like Jasper when you went?”

“Didn’t get to see much of it.” She fell back into silence.

“Um, well,” Bulkhead ventured, “There’s a monster truck rally over there in a few days. Maybe you could ride with Miko and me; we could show you around. Miko likes the burger joint on Third Street.”

“I can’t,” Nova replied. “Ratchet said I can’t go anywhere without permission, especially not after my recent … popularity.”

“Yeah,” Bulkhead smiled, remembering. “I heard about what happened with Vince. He’s one messed up kid.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Nova replied, smiling back.

“Hey, uh,” Bulkhead coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nova, I’m, uh… I’m sorry. Y’know, about your brother. I think all of us know how it feels to lose someone, but it sure ain't easy.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, and fell back onto the rock, her arms resting in the dust.

After a long silence, she whispered, “When is this stupid war gonna end?”

Bulkhead thought for a moment.

“Well, uh, I dunno,” he admitted finally. “You know I’m not a genius like Ratchet or Optimus. But my Spark tells me this'll all be over, someday.”

Nova sighed again, a long, long sigh. “I hope you're right.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

That night, after Bulkhead and Nova had come back inside, Optimus still hadn’t returned, and everyone was clustered around the human corner as they played the old familiar racing game that Raf always won.

“Yes!”

“Go, go, go!”

“Metal to the pedal, Miko!”

“Go, Jack, go!” Arcee cried.

“No way,” Miko shouted, her thumbs working overtime as her tongue stuck out of her mouth. “Raf’s scorching us!”

Suddenly, at Ratchet’s monitor, an alert beeped for an incoming transmission.

“Prime!” Agent Fowler shouted through the screen. “Do you read me?!”

“I’m sorry, Agent Fowler,” Ratchet said calmly, looking at the screen patiently. “Optimus isn’t here at the moment.”

“Then I’ll take that as confirmation that he’s presently trying to run me off the road!!”

Nova glanced up from the game, puzzled. “What did he say?”

Ratchet shook his head. “Agent Fowler, that hardly seems likely.”

“Tell that to my burning treads!”

Ratchet turned to the others. “Autobots, I’ve located Agent Fowler’s position. We need to go rescue him from … whatever he thinks he saw.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Fowler slammed the gas pedal to the floor as he glanced frantically in his rearview mirror. The hulking semi truck was hot on his bumper. It was Prime all right; the huge Autobot symbol on the grill proved it.

The truck was coming up on him, the headlights taking up all of his vision, like two blazing suns shining into his eyes, and his whole body jerked backward as the car was rammed from behind by the big rig.

Fowler gripped the wheel, knocking his head against the dashboard as his car spun out of control. He realized dimly that he was running off the road before a horrible crash lurched him forward. The seatbelt bit into his arm as he found himself staring out the windshield glass into the abyss that lay under the bridge.

I’m on a bridge? Sweet Mother of Teddy Roosevelt, I’m on a bridge! I’m gonna fall!

He put the car in reverse, trying to back away from the edge his car was already teetering on. The wheels, lifted from the ground, spun and spun without any purchase.

“Come on, come on!” Fowler growled, revving the engine again and again. But it was no use. The car was not going anywhere.

Glaring headlights reflected off his rearview. Fowler looked behind him, to the truck that had already driven up close behind him in the rubble of the divider. It inched ever closer, the lights growing brighter and brighter.

“Prime, no!” Fowler whispered, thinking this was the end. He was going to be pushed off the road by a sentient robot he’d trusted with his life only two days ago.

The truck pushed him closer, teasing the agent with death. Fowler’s eyes bugged out. Prime wouldn’t do this!

Would he?

The car slipped. Fowler’s heart leapt into his mouth.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

As Bumblebee raced towards the bridge, and the endangered US officer, Arcee peered suspiciously at the semi truck before them.

“Looks like Optimus,” Bulkhead said hesitantly, as the truck, suddenly aware of their approach, turned tail and drove in the opposite direction.

“Primes don’t run,” Arcee said. She transformed and took off after the fleeing truck, her little engine revving. She was determined to catch this bot, whoever he was.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Just when gravity took hold, just when the vehicle fell over the edge, Fowler’s car jerked to a sudden stop, suspended in midair. It dangled from Bumblebee’s hand. The scout had a firm grip on the rear fender, the metal crumpling in his fingers.

But the fender didn’t have a firm grip on the car.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

And then he was falling. And falling. And screaming in terror.

As the fatal ground rushed up to meet him, Fowler was dimly aware of a huge green shape hurtling past his car — somehow it was faster than his falling vehicle — and it reached the ground first. The next thing Fowler knew, the whole car was jarred again with the impact of landing squarely in Bulkhead’s stocky arms. The US agent expected to find his spine to be snapped in several places.

Bulkhead peered in through the driver window. “You all right in there?”

“At ease, soldier,” Fowler wheezed, before the airbag exploded in his face.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The truck turned into a darkened lot in a labyrinth of warehouses, and disappeared just before Arcee could reach it.

Determined, she turned into the entrance of the abandoned facility, her little headlight gleaming, and swept her gaze across the lonely flat. Her engine hummed quietly as she searched. There seemed to be nothing here, but she was sure she had seen —

Suddenly, glaring headlights overtook her vision as a shuddering impact jarred her frame and plunged her into darkness.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“What happened out there?” Nova demanded as Ratchet propped Arcee up in the examination pod.

“I dunno,” Bulkhead replied, and Bumblebee shrugged. “After we sent Fowler through the Groundbridge, we went lookin’ and found her like that, passed out.”

Bumblebee made a beeping sound and pretended to swoon, falling into Bulkhead.

“Who was pushing Fowler over the bridge?” Nova asked.

Bulkhead and Bumblebee looked at each other.

“Well,” Bulkhead said hesitantly. “It, uh, it looked like Optimus.”

Bumblebee nodded.

Nova shook her head. “That’s stupid. Optimus wouldn’t do that. Where’s Agent Fowler? I want to ask him.”

“He’s not in a mood to talk to any of us right now,” Ratchet said. “We’ll find out once he comes out of his room. In the meanwhile, I’d like to attempt to revive Arcee without any further distractions!”

Bulkhead and Bee murmured their apologies, and Nova shut her mouth. But something about this made her suspicious. This wasn’t something Optimus would do. But he hadn’t come back yet…

“No,” she said to herself. “No. Even when Optimus thought he was a Decepticon, he didn’t do anything like this.”

Meanwhile, the kids and Fowler had reappeared on the railing.

“Have you figured out the Prime problem yet, smart-guy?” Fowler demanded.

“Agent Fowler," Ratchet warned, "We aren’t even sure that Optimus is the one responsible for any of this."

“But Agent Fowler’s sure it was him,” Raf said. “I mean, how many big rigs with an Autobot symbol are out there?”

“I find it extremely difficult to believe Optimus Prime would do anything remotely related to the things he’s been accused of tonight,” Ratchet snapped in response. “We’ll know for sure when Arcee wakes up. If you would kindly remain silent, she's coming to.”

Sure enough, the two-wheeler was opening her eyes with a groan.

“That’s it. Follow the light,” Ratchet said, holding up his optic-coordination flashlight to her face.

At the sight of the glowing beam, Arcee started awake.

“What?” Fear leaped into her eyes, and she surged forward in the stocks before she caught sight of the children, and realized where she was.

Relieved, she breathed a sigh, and placed a hand to her forehead wearily. “Not the best choice of words, Ratchet.”

“Arcee, are you alright?” Jack asked in concern.

She gave a nod, staring vacantly at the ground. “Sure. Except for being blindsided by … Optimus.”

“Didn’t I tell you?!” Fowler demanded.

Ratchet shook his head. “Impossible.”

“I’m only reporting what I saw,” Arcee said quietly.

“Why would Optimus try to knock off Agent Fowler?” Jack asked.

“He wouldn't!” Nova cried, throwing up her hands. “Optimus doesn’t do that kind of thing.”

“Maybe Optimus thinks he’s a Decepticon all over again,” Raf ventured.

Miko wagged a finger, as if a sudden realization had come to her. “Or… he’s been faking being a good guy all this time!”

“If Prime has gone off the rails, for any reason,” Agent Fowler said gravely. “We have a serious problem.”

“But he wasn’t even there! He’s scouting for Energon,” Nova said, looking up at Ratchet. “Isn’t that what you told me?”

“Optimus hasn’t reported in for hours,” Arcee said. “Who’s to say that’s what he was really doing?”

Nova glared at her. “Do not say that again.”

“This is absurd,” Ratchet scoffed, turning towards the computer. “A quick check for Optimus’ signal will reveal that he’s nowhere near the location of tonight’s incident.”

He pulled up Optimus’ location on the screen.

“In fact,” he continued evenly, turning to the drive-in hallway. “He’s just returning now.”

They all stood, riveted, as Optimus’ familiar engine came rumbling through the tunnel and he drove steadily into the middle of the base, transforming before them. Nova could feel the apprehension vibrating off of everyone as the tall Autobot leader approached them, his steps as steady and firm as ever.

He looked at Nova, and then at the guarded wariness in the eyes of the others.

“Is something wrong?” Optimus asked.

“We were just…” Arcee glanced at Bulkhead. “Wondering where you’ve been.”

“We… haven’t been able to reach you,” Bulkhead added.

Optimus nodded deferentially. “I have been outside of our communication range…” he said, and reached for something in his hip compartment.

Instantly, everyone was on guard, weapons bristling. 

“Whoa!” Arcee said.

Bulkhead armed his guns. “Easy!”

Fowler flung a protective arm in front of the children. Nova rolled her eyes. 

Ratchet just stood there, looking around at all of them.

Optimus raised a hand in a placating gesture.

“…In a subterranean Energon deposit,” he finished, showing them the large blue crystal he had obtained.

Nova crossed her arms over her chest. "Hmph."

Bulkhead and Arcee exchanged another glance, unsure.

“Come on, it’s our guy,” Jack said. “Can’t you tell?”

There was another tense moment, before the Autobots put up their guns and stood down.

“We’re … sorry,” Arcee offered after a minute.

A rather bewildered look remained on their leader’s face, until Agent Fowler stepped in.

“Don’t blame them, Prime,” he said, placing his hands on the railing. “I was attacked earlier tonight, on the open highway by a big rig … one that bore a striking resemblance to you.”

Optimus’ frown deepened. “A Decepticon?”

“Not sure,” Arcee said. “But it had a pretty prominent Bot sigil on the grill, just like you.”

“I … see,” Optimus replied. “And you thought it was me.”

“No,” Bulkhead denied, laughing it off. “Not really! Course we didn’t!”

“We just weren’t sure,” Arcee said honestly.

“Whatever the vehicle’s origin, we must find a way to stop this impostor,” Optimus said. “By any means necessary.”

“Who knows what other havoc it may wreak in Optimus’ name,” Ratchet agreed.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Jeremy Wilson stared out the dirt-crusted window of his little security guard booth, his gaze roaming over the dusted plains surrounding the Alden military base, doing his job. It got a little boring sometimes, but Jeremy was a man of discipline. He had been assigned here for almost a month now, and it was much better than the assignment he’d had before. Being a security guard for this base, in the exact middle of nowhere, meant that nothing ever happened. Military determination aside, Jeremy really was looking forward to the next guard who would relieve his shift. He looked at his watch.

Three hours left.

He sighed. It would be a long wait, but he set his jaw and looked resolutely out at the dust and sand beyond. The little grey road that ran into the base barely had visible yellow lines on it; cracked in several places, it sometimes barely passed for a road, but in these places, nondescript and unassuming was best. It would not do to attract unnecessary attention. This base might not have the popularity of other US bases which were the subject of conspiracy theorists, but it still required secrecy, and the more Area 51 stole the spotlight and drew attention away from Alden, the better.

“Speaking of attention,” Wilson muttered, peering down the wobbling road, “What in the Sam Hill is that?”

A big rig; dark red in color, with rusted silver smokestacks, was barreling down the grey pavement at full speed toward the base, kicking up dust behind it.

Jeremy leapt out of his booth and stood before the yellow bar at the entrance to the base, holding up his hand in a warning. “Halt!”

The truck sped closer, paying no heed to the human in its way. Jeremy leaped out of the truck’s path as the unidentified vehicle blasted through the yellow pole and into the base, screeching and squealing as it crashed into every helicopter and aerial object on the ground.

Yelling some hurried details into his radio, Jeremy joined a few others in his squad as they marched to the base, ducking behind a downed helicopter as they prepared to apprehend the truck.

“THIS IS A RESTRICTED AREA,” their commander barked through his megaphone as the truck came to a stop. “EXIT THE VEHICLE, OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE.”

Wilson and Gibson ventured forward and flung open the driver’s side door, thrusting their guns forward in preparation for an attack.

But there came none, for there was no one inside.

The shock the soldiers experienced quickly gave way to fear as the truck’s outer plating split apart and slowly reformed with a whrr-tchz-tchz-tchz-chk into a giant robot, towering thirty feet above them, and it stared down at them coldly.

Jeremy held onto his helmet, his mouth agape as he stared up and up and up at the giant.

It began to speak, in a loud, booming voice, reverberating through the whole base as it glowered down at them with dull yellow eyes.

“I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots,” it said, forming a huge blaster over its right hand, “And I bring you this message.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“It has to be him,” Nova said. “Silas is responsible, I know it. This is Project Chimera. This is what I saw in their warehouse.”

“We do not know for certain that MECH is responsible,” Optimus said.

“We don’t know for certain they aren’t,” Ratchet retorted. “This is just the kind of thing they would do.”

“But wouldn’t they be doing more with their tech than just making a red truck and trying to bump off Agent Fowler?” Raf asked. “They have the potential to do so much more. Why would they do something so … so …”

“Lame,” Miko finished. “Really, really lame."

“I don’t know,” Nova scoffed. “But think about it. Whoever did this knew Optimus’ specific color scheme, they knew about the Autobot symbol, and they knew where to find Agent Fowler.”

“So do the Decepticons,” Raf pointed out.

“But wouldn’t the Decepticons order an air strike, or try to infiltrate our base, or something?” Nova asked. “They wouldn’t try to commit traffic violations.”

“They might,” Bulkhead replied. “They copied Wheeljack before, and sent the phony to our base.”

“But the ‘Cons know we won’t fall for that again,” Arcee said. “Besides, the clone was Starscream’s idea. Infiltration isn’t Megatron’s thing.”

“That’s right, and besides, we already have the real Optimus,” Nova said, pointing to her guardian. “Whoever’s driving that truck isn’t trying to fool us. Someone’s attacking humans, and trying to pin it on you."

There was a silence as they mulled over Nova’s words.

“I guess we can’t know that for sure until we have further proof,” Jack said.

Ratchet snorted. “Hmph. Not that I don’t believe it.”

“But we already know,” Nova said in exasperation. “Look, if it really is MECH behind that truck, then it’ll attack a military base.”

“Why would Silas do that?” Raf asked.

"Because if the government is busy blaming you, they won't be looking at him." Nova sighed. “Maybe they'll even ask him to help build an army. He’s planned this whole thing out.”

“If the military already knows about Optimus, there’s no reason to attack them,” Arcee said.

“Yes, there is,” Nova said. “Think about it. Agent Fowler is the only United States agent who is in constant contact with Optimus. MECH just tried to kill him, to get rid of our one human advocate. With him out of the way, there would be no one left to stick up for any of you.”

“But they didn’t kill Fowler,” Jack pointed out. “There’s no way they’ll fall for a fake if Fowler can sort it out.”

“Now, hold on, kid,” Fowler said. “I’m good, but I’m not that good. Nova’s right. If that truck starts destroying government property in Prime's name, the Pentagon won’t care what I say. The military responds to threats, and this truck is becoming one.”

“MECH’s way to world dominance is to destroy all who oppose them,” Nova agreed. “And Silas has a sort of … personal grudge against the US. He’s going to attack their military first, but he’s going to keep his hands clean. This truck will just be a way for him to get the robotic aliens blamed for the attack, so he can do his real work in the shadows.”

“Oh, I get it,” Miko said confidently. “This is how every action movie goes.”

“Yeah,” Raf agreed. “The fake Optimus will destroy the military infrastructure, and then Silas will come in with his weapons and tech, ready to save the day. Then he’ll pull the wool over everyone’s eyes, and conquer the world after the governments buy into his “world protection” plan.”

“If he can make the world afraid of Optimus; Silas will conquer nations overnight,” Nova said.

“Hold everything,” Fowler cried, yanking out a ringing phone. “I’m gettin’ a call.”

He flipped it open and put it to his ear. “Fowler.”

The next instant, he throttled the air in an involuntary response to what he heard.

“What?! That’s not possible.” He turned to look at Optimus. “I can tell you as sure as there are fifty stars on my star-spangled shorts, it isn’t him!”

Within another few seconds, Fowler snapped the phone shut and came back to the railing, glancing at Nova briefly.

“Alden military base is under attack,” he announced. “By Optimus Prime.”

“The truck?” Jack asked.

Fowler stared at the Prime. “The ‘Bot.”

A grave look came into Optimus’ eyes.

“We’ve gotta go!” Bulkhead said, running to the Groundbridge entrance.

“Ratchet, bridge us there,” Optimus ordered, sliding his battle mask on as the others gathered at the portal tunnel. “We must defend the military base.”

“With pleasure,” Nova growled, marching forward.

“Not you, Nova,” Optimus denied. “Remain here.”

“But I—”

“Nova,” Optimus said firmly. “You are to remain at base until further notice. I will explain later.”

From the way he looked at her, Nova knew she had no choice but to obey.

She set her jaw and swallowed her protest. “Yes, sir.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

A plume of fire exploded on Jeremy’s right, knocking him to the cement, but he righted himself again and lifted his automatic weapon to his shoulder, targeting the huge robot — truck? — who advanced out of the smoke toward them.

The voice of his commander cried out between explosions, “Fire! Fire!”

So Jeremy did. So did everyone else around him, but it had no effect on their assailant. The robot kept advancing, blasting into them with that awful gun on its arm, destroying everything in its path. Ruthlessly. Coldly. In all his years of service, Jeremy had never before faced an enemy like this.

The soldier gritted his teeth and stood his ground, readying his weapon to fire again, but before he could pull the trigger, a green swirling plume appeared out of thin air, giving way to three other robot monsters who stomped into view. They were more brightly colored than the first intruder, but Jeremy was far past caring what they looked like. Their glowing arm-mounted weapons were enough evidence that they were dangerous.

As soon as the rusty ground-pounder saw what had come out of the portal, it transformed and sped away, churning up dust, but Jeremy had no idea where it went. The new robots captured all of his panicked attention.

There’s more of them? How can there be more of them?!

“There!” Jeremy heard a voice bark in his radio. “They’ve brought reinforcements! Resume fire!”

Streaking missiles from helicopters and dozens of bullets peppered the air, including Jeremy’s own, but the robots, though their weapons were readied, did nothing. All he knew was that the big red robot was saying something about falling back, and the four of them jumped back into the portal just as the last missile was fired and it exploded —

And that was it. They disappeared with the smoke.

Jeremy got shakily to his feet and coughed through the smoke, brushing off his combat uniform. This was not a good day.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Agent Fowler paced back and forth, the flip phone glued to his ear as he debated with his superior. “No, General Bryce. Optimus Prime did not attack our boys.”

He put a hand to his hip as he stared at the floor, listening to the angered response. “…Because I was with Prime when I received the alert!”

Arms folded, Nova leaned against Optimus’ leg as the entire base listened to Fowler’s report.

This was going to be bad.

“Yes, sir, the Autobots were at your base, but only in response to the initial attack,” Fowler said.

A moment passed as he listened to Bryce yelling on the other end. A pleading look came into his face as he protested, “But sir, I—”

His shoulders slumped a little in resignation as Bryce interrupted him with a string of loud denials.

“Yes, sir. I understand,” Fowler said finally.

He flipped the phone shut.

“So what’s the damage?” Jack asked. Nova already guessed what it was. 

Fowler set his shoulders. “All military personnel are under strict orders to destroy any and all Bots on sight.”

Nova's fists tightened.

“Are you kidding?!” Jack asked.

Raf stammered out a protest. “But th-they’re innocent!”

“Optimus was framed!” Miko cried.

Optimus' voice rang out above their protests.

“Though unfortunate,” he said firmly, “This military order changes nothing. Our imposter clearly poses a grave threat to humanity.”

“A thirty-foot-tall transforming imposter,” Fowler reminded them.

Ratchet turned to Optimus. “They finally did it. Those butchers managed to crack the code.”

Nova thought it. Optimus said it.

“MECH.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The rust-colored, dull red truck rumbled along the cement tunnel, driving up the path and parking in the middle of a dark hangar, its brakes squeaking a little. In a chair surrounded by orange, glowing light screens sat the scarred embodiment of Nova’s trauma, Silas himself.

He operated the joysticks for his remote-controlled vehicle with as much grace and ease as an 80’s teen at an arcade store, his smooth, cold face showing only the slightest of smiles as his creation rolled into the hangar and eased to a stop, transforming into the visage of Optimus Prime himself.

Another agent came up behind the control chair, his black goggles glinting in the dim light. “Sir, any parallax or latency issues?”

Silas leaned back in his chair, studying the screen for a moment, then stood up.

“The telepresence interface performed flawlessly,” he said, with another uncommon smile. “In vehicular and robot mode.”

He turned to his subordinate. “Anything to report?”

“We’ve received an update from the field,” the agent said, handing him a clipboard. “Apparently the tracking device on Omega has been deactivated.”

Silas took the clipboard calmly. “Subject Omega has been terminated?”

“Yes, sir.”

The leader of MECH surveyed the papers briefly, and handed them back without batting an eye. “Who was responsible?”

“Subject Alpha, sir. The traitor.”

“Interesting. She is becoming bolder,” Silas said. “It is only a matter of time before they discover us."

He folded his hands behind his spine, gazing out into the growing dusk with a gleam in his eye.

"Fortify the silo," he ordered. "No one gets in or out until the operation has been completed.”

“Yes, sir.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Well, that was a complete disaster,” Arcee said as she stepped back into the base.

“Did you trash him, Bulk?!” Miko demanded, gripping the railing excitedly.

“I didn’t even get to touch him,” Bulkhead replied, shaking his head. “He disappeared right when we showed up.”

“Did he look like Optimus?” Jack asked.

“Couldn’t tell,” replied Arcee. “He turned and ran too fast for us to see anything but his taillights.”

“That phony son of a scraplet,” Miko growled. Bumblebee buzzed in agreement.

“Language, Miko,” Ratchet said gruffly.

“Why didn’t you let me go?” Nova asked, trotting beside Optimus’ heel as they exited the Groundbridge. “I could have helped.”

“No, Nova,” Optimus replied, looking down at her. “If you had joined us, you would only have been caught in the crossfire. This impostor was no unbalanced drone. It was fully autonomous and fluid in its movements, and … it was targeting humans.”

“What do you mean?” Nova asked.

Optimus looked at the floor for an instant. The half-spark recognized the heavy sorrow in his eyes, and her heart burned. It was a look she had seen before, when Optimus spoke of painful things.

“The impostor’s interest was not in destroying military weapons or supplies," he continued with difficulty. "It specifically wished to harm the soldiers. If you had been there, as a traitor to Silas’ cause, he would likely have fixated on you.”

Nova thought for a minute. “You’re saying he’s trying to draw me out.”

“I believe that is his intent, among other things.”

With a very slight sigh, Optimus turned to join the others. “Until this impostor is defeated, you will not be allowed to leave the base unless you have my express permission to do so. Do you understand?”

Nova stared up at him silently, but there was a certain gleam in her eyes as well, one that the Prime also recognized. She had already made a decision, and had no intention of abandoning it, even for him.

“I am well aware of the destruction Silas has wreaked upon your family,” Optimus said. “And I know you wish to bring him to justice. However, he remains a clear and present danger to you, and as such, I cannot allow you to face him alone."

The firmness in his eyes was replaced with the tinges of sorrow once more.

"Sending you to your death would violate one of the most important values we Autobots cherish,” he continued, bending down to her. “To protect life.”

Nova looked at the floor.

He lifted her chin with his finger. “To protect you.”

A moment passed.

“Yes, sir,” she said curtly, looking into his eyes. The hardness had not left. Optimus knew neither he nor any force in the universe could stop her, now.

He breathed another sigh. “Do not confront Silas unless there is dire need. That is an order.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do I have your word?”

At this, Nova’s gaze seemed to soften, and she responded sincerely. “Yes, sir.”

Searching her eyes for a moment, he nodded at her, assured at last of her promise, and they walked together to the computer, where everyone else was gathered.

“MECH abducted Breakdown,” Ratchet was saying, laying out the facts for everyone who hadn’t caught up. “And by all indications, dismantled him from cranial chamber to heel strut.”

“I was there,” Bulkhead agreed, looking at Nova. “Remember that?”

“Painfully,” she replied.

“And we know that, more recently, they obtained Starscream’s T-cog,” Ratchet continued.

“Which they evidently installed in a knockoff of you,” Arcee said, gesturing to Optimus.

Ratchet nodded. “—which, in turn, scanned an appropriate vehicle form…”

“Fill the tank with Energon,” Jack added.

“And say hello to Nemesis Prime!” Miko finished with a flourish.

Nemesis Prime, Nova thought. That’s what Silas is sending after my friends.

She folded her arms over her chest and thought to herself, I have to kill him.

Her mind responded with a pertinent question.

Are you ready to take the life of another human being?

She pondered this for a moment, imagining herself finding Silas and destroying him for everything he had ever done.

She thought of Coby’s madness, and she thought of Jack trying to save his mother from death at the hands of a Decepticon. She thought of Bumblebee's horror when he had picked up his ruptured T-cog, and she recalled the fear she saw in the eyes of any human who saw her for what she was. A monster. An alien who did not belong. And it was all because of one Colonel Leland Bishop.

It's the only way .

Ratchet had just finished explaining that MECH did not have the technological capability to make a working Groundbridge, so their base must be within driving distance of the two incidents carried out that day.

“Well, then, what’re we waiting for?” Fowler demanded, punching his fist into his hand. “Let’s get out there and mash MECH’s little science project.”

“Agent Fowler,” Optimus said sternly, “I do not think it advisable to put yourself in harm’s way of MECH’s robot again.”

"Well, I’m not sure it’s advisable for Bots to be running recon with the military out there gunning for you,” Fowler fired back.

Optimus looked down at him as Ratchet keyed in four separate coordinates. “We will maintain vehicular cover until absolutely necessary.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Nothing but tumbleweeds,” Bulkhead reported in a few hours later. The sun had set, the moon had risen, and there was no sign of MECH’s base anywhere. For once, even Nova had no idea where it was.

“Just a whole lotta empty,” Arcee said over the channel.

She rested her chin grumpily on her hand as she stood by the railing, watching the monitors on the screen. Optimus had ordered her to stay behind again, and she had to sit and watch with all the other humans as the Autobots combed the area for the location of their target.

A few minutes later, Bumblebee commed in from his position. He had found something. It seemed to be an abandoned network of silos.

I’m gonna check it out, he beeped. I think this is it.

“Bumblebee, proceed with utmost caution,” Optimus said over the link. “Reconnaissance only. We will rendezvous at your coordinates.”

Nova lifted her head. “Do you think they found it?”

“It appears to be the only viable location so far,” Ratchet said. “Certainly large enough to hide a machine Optimus' size.”

“He might need help,” the half-spark suggested.

“Absolutely not!” Ratchet retorted sharply. “You heard what Optimus said. We have no idea what is waiting for us there. I will not bridge you into the middle of a dangerous situation with no way of knowing what you’re walking into.”

“Ooh, busted!” Miko said next to her.

Nova grumbled to herself. This was going to be a long wait.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The computer monitor identified the yellow Camaro as it drove through the dust-paved roads, tracking its progress. The MECH intelligence agents had a file on every Cybertronian they had encountered, but even they had not expected an appearance so soon. 

“The Autobots are persistent,” Silas said, sitting in the controller chair and grabbing the joystick. “Time to meet their match.”

Nearby, the towering robot they had constructed jerked in response to its master’s command, the yellow eyes flickering to life.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Bumblebee transformed and stepped warily through the abandoned buildings, his glowing blue eyes scanning the darkness around him as he approached. His movements were fluid, ready for action, but his gaze was sharp, and intently wary of anything that stirred.

Step by step, he moved forward, his eyes sweeping back and forth as he searched ahead of him silently. He was a scout. He knew what he was doing. But for some reason, he felt more exposed and vulnerable than he had in a long time. A bad feeling started to creep into his circuits.

“Bumblebee.”

He whipped around and readied his blasters, prepared for whatever might come out of the darkness.

A clunking noise of a large bot met his receptors, and he saw two eyes, towering above him in the shadows as the voice came again.

“Be on your guard,” it said. “My double could be anywhere.”

It sounded so much like Optimus.

Bumblebee beeped out a hesitant question, lowering his guns slightly. 

A pause.

The voice said, “I’m sorry. What?”

That thing was not Optimus. Optimus always knew what he said. 

Bumblebee raised his weapons and let lasers fly into the darkness. The dark shape dodged his shots and lumbered over to him, slamming Bumblebee over the head despite the yellow scout’s blows to his side and chest.

Before Bumblebee could retreat, the impostor slammed a foot into his chest, and the powerful impact sent him flying. As his body hit the ground, the scout tried to get up, but his systems had been disoriented, and he fell back and knew no more. 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Bumblebee?” Optimus called through the commlink, with Bulkhead and Arcee by his side. “Do you read?”

His effort to hail their scout elicited nothing but static as they approached the darkened buildings of the silo.

Arcee drew her guns. “Fan out?”

The two mechs activated their weapons as well, and split up into three directions as Optimus gave them a final warning.

“And beware of anything that might resemble me.”

No warning could prepare them for the attacks that followed, or the machine which managed to deplete Optimus of both his remaining soldiers, leaving only one left.

But the impostor did not kill the Autobots in the darkness. Silas wanted Optimus alone, and he was not going to waste time with mere associates.

It was time for man and machine to challenge the Prime of Cybertron.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“If I can isolate the control frequency of the remote link that Silas is employing,” explained Ratchet from his computer, “I should be able to pinpoint his exact position.”

“Remote link?” Raf asked from the railing.

Ratchet looked at him. “You didn’t think MECH possessed the ability to build a completely autonomous robot, did you?”

Miko grinned. “I was hoping Silas would be operating the bot from inside, because one punch from Bulkhead and booyah! Ughelayh!” She acted out the scenario which ended with the “bot” falling to the floor in its death throes.

“Aha!” Ratchet exclaimed, staring at his monitor. “Frequency isolated.”

Agent Fowler pointed at the tunnel firmly. “Then reopen that bridge.”

Nova stared at him from where she stood next to Jack. He wanted to go?

Apparently, Ratchet shared her doubts. “Agent Fowler, did you not hear Optimus advise against your involvement? It’s for your own safety.”

“Look, Doc,” Agent Fowler said. “I don’t plan on dancin’ with any Bots, but there’s a human element in play here. And in case you haven’t noticed, I happen to be a highly trained, government-grade human.”

“Yeah,” Miko agreed brightly. “Plus, Cylas tried to run him off the road.” She shrugged. “It’s personal.”

Ratchet glanced at Nova.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“I'm waiting for you to tell me I can go, old man,” Nova replied. 

Ratchet sighed. “Well, considering what is at risk here, and considering the amount of human security that base will undoubtedly have, I do not think Agent Fowler should be allowed to go alone.”

“And Optimus did say you could fight if there was an urgent need,” Jack reminded her.

“I know what he said,” Nova said, perhaps a little irritably. “You heard the agent, Ratchet. Open the bridge.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The moon was high in the night sky, gazing down at the Prime as he locked his gun on his forearm and prepared for a confrontation. No one had reported back for several minutes, and there was no sign of movement anywhere, human or otherwise. Had it not been for the tangible apprehension Optimus felt, the scene could have passed for a peaceful night.

He advanced forward, passing one silo after another, his footsteps clanking gently in the quiet, until he turned a corner, and saw his opponent.

The impostor stood directly before him, legs locked in a defensive stance, staring him down with emotionless, cold eyes.

“Optimus Prime,” said the voice of a human, “We meet again.”

The Prime loaded his gun and leveled it at the impostor’s head. “The deception ends here, Silas.”

“Does it?”

Nemesis Prime charged forward, flipping out a gun similar to Optimus’ own and firing a shot, which the true Prime dodged and returned with a few of his own, crossing the few steps until he was at a distance at which his fists would suffice as his primary weapons of choice.

The confrontation had begun.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Green and purple swirling into white light bloomed in the darkness, and two human bodies emerged from the brightness to land on the concrete with soft noises.

As the dizzying portal faded away, Agent Fowler held his stomach with one hand and covered his mouth with the other.

“Ugh,” he groaned.

“You all right?” Nova asked.

“I think I’m gonna toss the breakfast I ate back in flight school,” he replied, recovering.

A sharp clang drew their gaze immediately to their right, where the shadowed shapes of two massive Cybertronians could be seen grappling with one another.

“There they are,” Nova said.

A cellphone chime rang from Fowler’s pocket, and he flipped open his device to listen to Ratchet’s instructions as Nova watched the struggle beyond.

“Agent Fowler, the control frequency is transmitting from a structure one hundred meters due north.”

The US agent looked to the left, and spotted the building. “Copy that,” he said, flipping the phone shut and sliding it back into his pocket.

Nova was still watching the fight.

“I think Optimus is going to beat him,” she said. “But it’s so dark out here, it’s hard to tell which is which.”

“C’mon kid,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her. “Prime can take care of himself. We’re here on a different mission.” He pointed at the large, rounded building north of their position. “That’s our target. Stay close.”

Nova nodded, and formed her armor over her body. “Yes, sir.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The swords clashed loudly in the night air as the two opponents swung at each other, straining against the other’s blows until Optimus swept his sword away and slammed his foot into Nemesis’ chest, sending the robot flying into the nearest building, which went up in instant fire and smoke.

Holding his hands in front of his face, Optimus plunged into the burning wreckage in pursuit of his adversary. The explosion plumed in the dark sky and attracted the attention of a MECH agent standing on the balcony of the control building. He lifted his night vision binoculars to better see the results of the fight, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned around, and was knocked senseless by one punch from Agent Fowler’s fist.

The soldier disposed of, Fowler turned to see Nova coming around the corner before him.

“That’s all of them on the outside,” she said, glancing down at the fiery debris left from the building.

Fowler looked askance at her. “Did you kill anyone?”

“Maybe.” Nova looked at him steadily. 

“Legally, I didn't hear that,” he said, making his way to the door. “Let’s take this to the head honcho.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nemesis Prime landed another punch on the Prime’s jaw, and sent a flying kick to his chest, landing blow after forceful blow. He moved almost too fast for human eyes to comprehend, and he seemed to be gaining the advantage over his Cybertronian opponent.

“My robot chassis possess all your strength, speed … and firepower,” Silas boasted, activating the robot’s guns as he flung Optimus away. He let lasers fly at the Prime, but his opponent charged right between his blasts and leapt at him. Effortlessly, Nemesis used his momentum and launched the Prime several meters away, still standing in his defensive position.

"Add my extensive combat training,” Silas continued, “And MECH has clearly achieved the perfect meld of man and machine.”

The Prime said nothing, getting to his feet and pummeling the robot with all he had.

Silas, from the view of his monitors, could see every tactical decision, every physical weakness of the Prime, and he exploited them for all they were worth as he controlled the robot, but once the Cybertronian’s physical skills became too overwhelming, the MECH commander steered his robot away, falling back and climbing up a ladder of the very building in which his control chair sat, the blaster fire of the Prime hot on his heels. Optimus gave chase, mounting the ladder and pursuing Nemesis to the top of the silo a few seconds behind.

Atop the roof, the two opponents faced each other on higher ground. Silas flung out one of his hand mounted swords; Optimus did the same, and they collided again, slicing and sweeping the blades at the speed of sound as one tried to gain the advantage over the other.

Quickly, Nemesis brought down his sword toward Optimus’ head with a heavy blow, and Optimus blocked it, the two of them straining against each other, the metal creaking and groaning. Optimus brought his enemy’s sword down to the side and flung it away, raising his arm again for another stroke.

Taking advantage of his enemy’s exposed side, Nemesis swept down his sword, seized his opponent by the shoulder, and drove his blade into Optimus’ torso.

In that splintered second, the Prime let out a strangled groan, and his eyes sprang wide above his mask in sudden pain as Silas held him steady on the hilt of his sword.

“But the key difference between you and me?” he asked, his head almost touching the Prime’s audio receptor. “My body can’t feel pain.”

He thrust the sword deeper, and twisted.

This time, Optimus let out a cry, and fell to his knees as Silas stood above him, the Energon staining the metal of his weapon.

“This is just the beginning,” he said, his voice laced with venom. “Imagine an army of transforming robots.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Sitting in the chair, Silas smiled to himself as he saw the Prime, beaten and forced to his knees by himself; a mere human. He raised his robot’s sword for the final blow.

“No one will stand against the newly rebooted MECH,” he said.

“Think again, Si.” 

Silas got up from his chair, whirling around.

“Agent Fowler,” he said, recognizing the US agent surrounded by dozens of unconscious MECH soldiers. “In the flesh at last.”

"And you brought the traitor." His gaze darted to Nova, who had just fallen to her knees in a reflection of the agony that Optimus was going through. “I must admit, I was not expecting her so soon.”

Nova gasped in pain, curling over her wound in agony.

Seeing that he was on his own, Agent Fowler punched one fist into his hand and beckoned to Silas, his mouth cocked in a confident smirk. “I’m pullin’ the plug on your video game!”

Nova watched as they charged at one another, her hand pressed over her aching side. The pain throbbed in her ribs, and a sudden small voice, unbidden and unnoticed, began to whisper in her mind.

This is it, the voice murmured. This is your chance.

Kill him.

The blue-edged sword began inching from her wrist, and her eyes filled with horrible wrath.

Kill him. You have a chance to make things right. To pay him back. For everything he did.

She struggled to her feet, and got up off the floor. Her rage began to grow.

For Coby.

The blade inched out a little more.

Kill him!

She moved a half-step forward, as if drawn by a string.

No, Nova.

The sudden thought, like a beam of light in a deep cave, seized ahold of her and brought her forcibly to her senses. Her eyes widened, the rage disappeared from her face, and she wobbled. Shaking, she looked down at the sword she had formed, and was about to put it away, when her gaze suddenly fell on the control chair.

“Fine.” She sucked in a breath, ignoring the pain in her side, and flung out her other sword. “Fine, then.”

A few feet away, Fowler leapt at Silas, who dodged his initial attack and floored him with a well-placed blow on his back. A little winded, Fowler got up from the floor, shocked at the fighting style he experienced.

“Ex-military?” he asked in astonishment.

“Special tactics,” Silas rejoined, his fists clenched before his face as he charged again. “You?”

Agent Fowler stepped away from his punch and delivered a blow to Silas’ gut, then his neck, then finished off with a hard right hook to the side of his jaw.

“Army Rangers,” he said proudly.

“Retired, clearly,” Silas smirked, amused at Fowler’s unbalanced stance.

Fowler took a breath, and looked at him.

“I may be outta shape, but I don’t need to bust you up,” he said, swinging again. This time, Silas dodged his blow effortlessly and kicked him in the chest, sending Fowler to the floor.

A half-dozen more MECH soldiers approached, holding a weakened Nova securely between their electric prods as three others stood above the defeated agent, who raised his head, and wiped his mouth.

“I just need to buy Prime a little time,” Fowler smiled.

A horrified look came over Silas’ face as he recalled his forgotten robot, and he darted over to the control chair in a panic. The Prime had recovered somewhat from his stab wound, and had stumbled to his feet when the robot had made no move to finish him.

Silas sprang forward and yanked down the joystick just as the Prime’s fist struck, just barely blocking his attack, but it was too late. The Prime rained down blows on the impostor, one after the other, so fast that Silas could no longer keep up. 

“No,” he muttered, pressing every button, moving every lever. “No, no no!”

He slammed the pedals to the floor, trying to transform, but his monitor had been sliced open by a certain laser-edged bioweapon. The smoldering streak went right through the casing and cables, and sparks flew onto the concrete floor as he struggled with his machine.

Nova smiled.

As Silas' robot stalled, Optimus Prime gathered his strength and leapt into the air, his fists clenched above his head in a stark silhouette against the moon, and came down on top of the robot with all the force of a falling semi, slamming into the roof.

Nova jumped into action and lashed out at the MECH agents, shoving them away, grabbing Agent Fowler by the arm and hauling him to his feet.

“Go!”

They dashed away from the center of the building a split second before the roof caved in.

Seeing the machine he had constructed plunging down above him, Silas flung his arm over his head and cried out in terror.

“No, no, NO!”

The impact of the robot sent a cloud of dust and debris blasting into the building, and Agent Fowler raised an arm to protect his face. “Whoa!”

In less than a minute, the dust settled, the debris clanked to a final stop, and the robot fell still, its golden eyes flickering out.

As she regained her balance and swept the dust from her visor, Nova stared at the impostor’s face.

That monster looked far too much like Silas. Even in death, it wore an expression of calculating, ruthless brutality, as cold as ice. Optimus didn’t look like that. 

“Agent Fowler?” Optimus’ voice echoed down into the building.

Nova looked up. Fowler tensed in sudden apprehension like a child who had been caught swiping cookies.

The agent smiled, about to give an explanation, but the noise of distant helicopters suddenly met their ears. Optimus raised up a little and glanced at the night sky, staring warily out at the approaching military aircraft.

“That’d be our boys,” Fowler reassured him, folding his arms. “I’d advise you to get back to base, Prime. I’ll handle Uncle Sam.”

Optimus gave him a slight smile of gratitude.

“That goes for you too,” Fowler continued, turning to Nova. “You did good, kid. Thanks for the backup.”

She nodded, failing to meet his eyes.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Ratchet sent the Groundbridge a few seconds later, and Nova met Optimus outside the building as Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee helped each other into the Groundbridge. The experience of being beaten up by someone so similar to their leader had been a strange experience for them, and none of the others seemed to want to talk about it. They advanced through the Groundbridge with wary eyes as Nova waited behind for Optimus.

Gingerly, the Prime lowered himself to the ground again, grunting softly as he pressed a hand into his side and approached the half-spark.

Nova dropped her gaze, bathed in the green glow of the portal.

“He hurt you,” she said.

Optimus was silent for a moment.

“It will mend.”

“But if you get hurt, I get hurt, remember?” Nova asked, pointing sharply at his wound. “I felt that. I don't know how it happened, but one day I just started hurting all the time, in here--" She put a hand on her chest and took in a shuddering breath. "... And it hurts the most with you.”

Optimus held her gaze. “I know, Nova.”

She stared at him in surprise. “You … do?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “You are not the only one who must take on such pain.”

A terse moment passed, and Nova's eyes widened in realization.

“It hurts you, too?”

“Indeed,” Optimus said. “And this troubles me as well, for I do not often notice such pain. I ..."

He paused, and his eyes took on that heavy look again. "I have ... learned to endure similar affliction before, and I attributed it to those lingering wounds." As he spoke, his hand drifted toward the hole in his side. "However, it has recently become difficult to ignore, and sometimes…”

“Sometimes it still hurts,” she whispered. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “It … hurts the most with you.”

He stared at her, perceiving a slight hitch in her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Optimus,” she said softly. “I should’ve done what you told me.”

A silence passed. The sound of helicopter blades pummeling the night air grew ever closer.

Nova looked up at him. “Are you sure we’re going to be all right?”

“My wound will mend,” he said reassuringly. “And in time, so will your own.”

“I hope so.” Nova glanced up at him. “How do you live with something like this?”

"With a great deal of help." Optimus smiled at her. “Let us go home.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“So how was it to see someone who looked exactly like Optimus kicking the scrap outta you?” Miko asked playfully, leaning on the railing above Bulkhead.

Bulkhead only groaned and held his head.

Arcee folded her arms. “It’s a sight I won’t soon forget."

“The question remains whether MECH will continue to function as we know it without its leader,” Optimus said, his arm raised so Ratchet could finish welding his stab wound shut.

“Yeah, the Decepticons practically fell apart without Megatron,” Arcee agreed. “Maybe MECH will, too."

Nova sighed and lolled her head back, looking up at the ceiling from where she sat on the couch. “Don’t count on it. They always have a way out.”

“Well, here’s the kicker,” Fowler said from the commlink. “We sifted through the wreckage with a fine-tooth comb. We couldn’t find any trace of Silas.”

“Great,” Nova mumbled, still staring up at the ceiling.

“What does that mean? Did he survive?” Jack asked.

Nova shrugged, and no one else answered. None of them had even seen the body after it had been buried in the rubble.

“I’m not sure any human could survive that,” Ratchet said, continuing to finish the welding line.

“Well, dead or no, it’s safe to say MECH is a threat to national security if they keep doin’ what they’re doin’,” Fowler continued. “And because of that, I’ve got some major debriefing to do with the guys and with my boss. This whole thing’s gonna take a while to clean up.”

“I thought now that the fake was gone, things would get back to normal,” Miko said with a sigh. 

“‘Fraid not. That thing we fought today was a Cybertronian, for all intents and purposes, and a Cybertronian is what the military saw. It’s gonna take a lot of convincin’ for them to give you the okay to stay here."

“Thank you, Agent Fowler,” Optimus said, walking over to the computer. “We are grateful for your assistance.”

“Thank me when it’s over,” Fowler replied. “You’re not off the hook yet. We gotta wait and see what the government does after I pull some strings.”

“I understand,” Optimus said, and watched as the US agent terminated the call.

“Hey, Nova,” Jack asked, leaning on the railing and looking back at the half-spark. “You okay?”

“Sure,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m fine.”

“When a woman on any planet says that, it’s usually a lie,” Ratchet said, standing up from Optimus and putting away his welder.

“I’m fine, old man,” she said, getting up from the couch and stretching. “I’m going to bed.”

“Now?” Miko asked in disbelief. “It’s only seven, and it’s Friday! Video Game Smackdown Night!”

“No thanks, Miko,” Nova replied with a shake of her head. “Maybe next week.”

She descended the stairs and headed for the storage hallway, eventually disappearing into the darkness.

“Maybe next week?” Miko repeated. “She never said that before.”

“Somethin’s up with her,” Bulkhead said at length.

"I will speak to her,” Optimus offered.

“No, no you won’t,” Ratchet refused flatly. “I think I know what it is. You take monitor duty for a few minutes, Optimus. I’ll go talk to her.”

“Don’t you have to fix up the Bots?” Jack asked.

“Their self-repair systems will be enough for now,” replied the medic, a little gruffly. “But Nova Makutan doesn’t have any self-repair systems, does she?”

“Sorry,” Jack said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

Optimus laid a hand on the medic’s shoulder. “I would appreciate your assistance, old friend,” he said quietly.

Ratchet nodded, and with that, he turned and followed the steps of the half-spark into the back.

“The Doc’s in a bit of a temper,” Arcee said with a wry smile. 

“He just doesn’t like it when anyone, uh, smaller than us gets hurt,” Bulkhead guessed. “I know when Raf was hurt, he was pretty torn up.”

Bumblebee let out a soft beep as he remembered.

Raf looked around. “Could we, um, could we start that video game tournament now?”

“Yeah!” Miko said, jumping on the couch. “Let’s hear about the Nemesis Prime smackdown while I trash these boys, Bulk!”

The kids began their night of fun, and Arcee, Bee and Bulkhead crowded around to watch, while Optimus stood at the computers, losing himself in deep thought as the lingering pain in his side faded away.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Ratchet, meanwhile, followed the hallway’s path until he came to Nova’s room. It was only a human-sized storage closet, nestled in between Optimus’ and Arcee’s crude habitation suites, but it was a good size for her; she was so small.

It did not take much to keep the half-spark happy, he thought to himself. In the way of material possessions, she had very little, and only needed someone with which to live. She had certainly never felt the need to shut herself up in her room before.

Ratchet knelt down and tapped a knuckle against the door. “Nova?”

“Go away,” came the muffled response from inside. He could hear the stifled tears in her voice.

“I came to check on you,” he explained.

“I said go away, old man—”

“I’m not leaving until you let me look you over,” he said firmly. “Don’t argue with me.”

There was a pause, then Ratchet saw the door open slowly. The naked bulb in the ceiling above Nova cast a harsh glare on the floor around her, and he could plainly see the tears on her cheeks. 

“Happy?” Nova asked.

“No,” he responded, pulling out his scanner. “Come out of there this minute. Primus, you’re making me sound like June.”

The half-spark emerged hesitantly from her room, and held still as Ratchet passed the laser field over her body, once, twice, and shut it off.

“Great, you got your scans,” Nova huffed impatiently. “Can I go now?”

“Physically, you’re fine,” he said. “You have an aggravated area where I assume you were knocked with a cattle prod of some sort, but that’s not why you ran off to your room, is it?”

She glanced sideways. “No.”

“No. I thought not.” Ratchet picked her up, plunked her on the nearest tall box, and folded his arms, staring at her steadily. “Tell me about it.”

Nova twisted her fingers, refusing to look him in the eye. “Tell you about what?”

“Nova, if you act like a child, I’ll treat you like one.”

“Fine,” she said, placing her hands on the box. “I’m mad because I lost my nerve.”

“What do you mean?” Ratchet asked. “You were afraid?”

“No. Well, yes,” she said, reconsidering. “I shouldn’t have gone.”

Ratchet waited patiently, and after a moment of hesitation, Nova began to tell him about the night.

She told him about the fight between Optimus and his lookalike, and the pain she had felt when her guardian was stabbed. But when Nova began to speak about their encounter with Silas, she stopped. 

“Ratchet, I was so … angry. I wanted to kill him,” she whispered, as if divulging a horrible secret. “I really, truly did. It would have been so easy. I wanted to do it so badly.”

He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

Nova gripped the edge of the box, and looked up at him. “And I was going to. I could have killed him, right then and there."

“Why didn’t you?”

She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know. Something told me not to.”

“Then I’d say you still have a conscience,” Ratchet replied evenly.

“Yes, but it was almost too late,” she rejoined. “What if I had killed him?” She shuddered. “I would have killed all of them.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Ratchet said. “You think none of us have ever gotten angry before? Even Optimus has, and he isn’t someone who gives in to anger easily.”

“That’s just the thing,” she cried in agitation. “Optimus never gives in to his anger, but I was about to. It was so easy. What if I'm just like Silas?”

Ratchet stared at her.

“So that’s it,” he said finally. 

The half-spark bowed her head. “He molded me to be a killer. What makes me any better than him?”

Ratchet bristled. “You’re better than him because you choose to do what’s right. You have a clear sense of right and wrong, and you choose to act upon it. None of us can ask any more of you.”

“But something’s wrong with me, Ratchet,” Nova protested. “I don’t belong here.”

“You’re not the only one,” he responded with a snort. “In case you haven’t noticed, we are an alien robotic species, residing on one of the only planets in the galaxy which has no knowledge of our existence, the inhabitants of which would try to kill us if they could. We don’t belong here any more than you do.”

“But at least the kids have Earth, and you have Cybertron,” Nova said. “You know where you belong — you all belong somewhere. I don’t know if I belong anywhere.”

Ratchet sighed.

“To be honest, Nova, I don’t think any of us really belong anywhere,” he said finally. “But we do belong together, and that’s what you have to remember. You will always have a place here, with us; no matter what anyone says.”

Thinking about this, Nova smiled softly. “Thanks, old man.”

“Anytime."

Chapter Text

“Prime!” Fowler yelled, entering as usual with all the subtlety of a foghorn. “We need to talk!” 

From his monitor, Ratchet sighed and turned to greet the human with a barely-subdued grimace. “Optimus is in the back supervising our weekly stock rotation, Agent Fowler. Would you like me to get him for you?”

“Would I?” Fowler demanded, brandishing a sheaf of papers as though it were a weapon. “We have what might possibly be a national crisis on our hands! If Prime doesn’t get his metal butt out here right now, we’re gonna be kicked out of here faster than a box of British tea in the seventeen-hundreds!”

Keeping his eyes locked with the irate man’s gaze, Ratchet forced a smile and stabbed the button for the intercoms. 

“Optimus, if you would please come out here before I commit a rather serious felony, I am sure Agent Fowler would appreciate it.”

A few seconds later, Optimus emerged from the hallway junction, Nova on his shoulder and the other Autobots on his heels. 

“Agent Fowler,” he greeted the human politely. “What can I do for you?” 

“We’ve got to talk about the showdown that happened a few days ago,” Fowler snapped, rapping the papers against the railing for emphasis. 

“Does this have to do with recent events involving Nemesis Prime?” Optimus inquired, stepping closer to the railing.

At the mention of the doppelgänger’s name, Nova frowned. Her recent encounter with Cylas was still fresh in her mind. The nightmares had been arduous and prevalent, and her neck ached from staying up all night.  

“You bet your rusted pistons,” Fowler snapped. “Do you know how much of a mess this guy made?”

Bulkhead bent a little to speak to Arcee. “Uh, why do we have to sit here and listen to him lecture Optimus about things we already know?”  

“We already have the Decepticons trying to kill us,” the two-wheeler replied. “We don’t want the entire American government on our tailpipes too.”

“The attack on Alden military base turned a lotta heads,” Fowler was saying, opening the sheaf and flipping through the sheets with his thumb. “It wasn’t a large facility, but the strategic advantage it provided the States was lost when MECH attacked it. Since Silas was never found, they don’t have any real proof of who was behind the attacks except for a bunch of Cybertronian spare parts.”

“They still think Optimus was behind it the whole time?” Arcee demanded. 

Fowler snapped the papers closed, glancing at her. “When you need a suspect for an otherworldly terrorist attack, a dead alien in your hands is kind of hard to overlook.”

“But Optimus didn’t do it!” Bulkhead cried. “You saw it yourself!”

Fowler sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose slowly. Nova was amazed that Fowler had thus far shown no signs of grey hairs, after all that he had to deal with. 

“Simply put, the military’s convinced that Prime’s been doing some questionable things lately,” he said. “What with his temporary turn to the Decepticons, and the alliance we had to strike with Megatron to stop Unicron a while ago—”

Nova straightened, a frown darkening her face. “You told them all of that?”

“I have to, kid,” Fowler explained. “That’s my job. I report everything to them, and in return you all get to stay here under the protection of the US government.”

“Anyway,” he continued with a sigh. “After all that’s happened, my superiors wanna know whether they can trust the big guy or not.”

“Of course they can trust him!” Nova cried indignantly. “He saved us all!”

“I have to agree,” Ratchet affirmed from his monitor. “Out of all of us, Optimus doesn’t deserve this kind of scrutiny.”

“Be that as it may, I gotta do some more gabbing up at the fort, because they won’t believe me without proof,” Fowler replied, leveling his pen at Optimus. “Prime’s gotta be there because of all the stunts MECH pulled lately. I need them to know he’s actually alive, and I know they won’t believe it until they see it themselves.”

“Yeah, I guess the government might be confused about that,” Arcee mumbled. “Being out of the action and all.”

“The kid’s gotta come too,” Fowler added, tilting his pen up at Nova.

Nova started back, her eyes wide. “Me?”

“Why, Agent Fowler?” Optimus asked sternly. 

 “She just needs to be there so they can assess her strengths,” Fowler explained. “And so they can determine whether she poses a threat to national security.”

“National security?!” Ratchet roared. “Now, hold on just a minute—”

“She’s been known to take on Decepticons before,” Fowler rejoined, flipping through his papers again. “She has killed an unknown number of people, and according to your medical records, you state that she once gave off a huge burst of energy, which disrupted crucial electrical systems.”

“Decepticon electrical systems!” Ratchet cried. “She was in their warship!” 

“Exactly. If a human can take down something that size; the government wants to hear about it.”

“But she—”

“Ratchet,” Optimus interrupted. “Could you and the others give us a moment?”

With a gusty sigh, Ratchet complied. “All right, everyone out. We still have those rations to take care of.” 

The others groaned and followed the medic, and Nova started to slide down from her perch, but Optimus stopped her with a word. “Not you, Nova.”

"Not me?"

"This matter concerns you."

Once the others had left, Optimus turned toward the agent again. 

“Agent Fowler, I have certain misgivings about this summons,” he said, his voice grave. “Is it truly mandatory?”

"Afraid so, Prime," Fowler nodded. "You’ll both be on site, of course, so you can stay close."

"But they will not allow her to remain with me?"

"Not until they know where both of you stand."

A silence fell as Optimus and Nova shared a glance. The half-spark already felt a pit of dread growing in her stomach at the thought of being alone in a government facility. 

"You're leaving me?" she asked under her breath. No, no, bad idea...

But Agent Fowler was not finished.

"Don’t wear your armor either," he said to the girl. "We don’t wanna cause a panic while we're there."

"What?" Nova shrank inward, her hands suddenly cold. "No armor? But--"

"I'm afraid it's non-negotiable," Fowler said, his gruff tone softening a little. "I’ll be by to pick you up in the chopper at ten."

Optimus shook his head. "I am sorry, Agent Fowler, but I will be escorting her to your facility." 

Nova's eyes grew wide, and she stared up at her guardian with sudden hope.

"Prime, they want her to be under the supervision of an official government agent."

“I understand their concern,” Optimus nodded. “But as her guardian, I believe it would be safest for all parties involved if I were to remain with her as long as possible. I will not allow her to go otherwise.”

The silence became unbearable as Optimus held the agent’s gaze, and Fowler eventually breathed a sigh. 

“Lemme make a call,” he said, pulling out his phone.

Dialing a number, he walked a few yards away, and Nova tugged at Optimus’ finial insistently. 

He turned his head, meeting her eyes. 

“Why did you do that?” Nova asked, her eyes brimming with awe. 

“Because my main priority at this briefing must be to keep you safe,” said Optimus. “Given recent events, I do not believe that you are prepared to withstand sudden exposure to military scrutiny.”

 Nova's heart leapt. He was going to stay with her after all.

But as she realized there could be serious consequences from his decision, her heart began to sink again. 

“But ... they might kick you off the planet, or hunt you down, or—“

“Nova, I have seen that humans are prone to distrust, and in many cases they are right to be so,” Optimus interrupted. “But at times it can make them fearful of what they do not understand, and that fear can cause them to act without wisdom. One such as you must be protected against such fear, no matter the risk.”

Nova sat down, putting her head in her trembling hands. “What if the government decides I’m too dangerous? What if they take me away?”

“That will not happen.”

“But what if it does?”

Optimus hesitated for a moment. 

“Then I may be the one to act without wisdom,” he said at last.

Nova raised her head, staring at him. The idea that Optimus would risk the favor of the planet for her was … rather horrible to think about. But the knowledge that he would be there to protect her felt like stronger armor than she could ever hope for. 

Before she could say anything more, Fowler approached them, flipping his phone shut. 

“All right, I got the go-ahead from the chief,” he informed them. “You two can go together.”

Nova cleared her throat, twisting her fingers. “Um, Agent Fowler? What will they be ... doing to me when we go?”

Fowler nodded. “Not to worry, kid. We’ll have one of the best psychologists in the business examining you. This is just an evaluation to make sure you’re not a raging psychopath, and from what I know about you, it should be a piece of cake.”

“They’re just asking me questions?” 

“That’s right. Nothing to it.”

Nova relaxed a little, breathing a sigh and attempting to smile. “This should turn out all right, then.” 

“I’ll be seeing you both tomorrow,” Fowler said, turning toward the elevator. “Try not to cause international disputes in the meantime.” 

Once he had gone, Nova slid down from Optimus' shoulder and nodded briskly, bouncing her hand against her thigh. 

"It will be fine, right?" she asked hopefully. "It'll work out." 

Optimus paused for a second, unconvinced by the girl's weak attempts to hide her nerves. For someone who could not lie to save his life, Optimus was rather excellent at seeing through the lies of others, to the point where he was nearly impossible to bluff. 

"I cannot promise that the briefing will be easy, Nova, but I can promise that I will protect you in any situation. You do not need to be afraid." 

Nova gave a smile which belied her inner turmoil. "Yes, sir."

As long as you're with me.

Chapter Text

“Are you ready, Nova?” Optimus asked, looking down at the half-spark as she wore a groove in the floor.

“What if they ask me about my education?” Nova asked suddenly, firing off questions while she paced. “What if I don’t remember the exact details about my abduction? It was a while ago. What if they ask about my birth certificate, or social security number, or vaccine records? I don’t have any of those things. What if they give me a test? What if—”

“What if you stopped worrying about it?” Ratchet called gruffly from the monitor. “It’s wearing on my audials.”

“Ratchet has a point,” Optimus said to the half-spark. “It would be best not to worry.”

“Easier said than done,” she replied. “What if I wore my armor anyway? Just a little bit? Do you think they would be mad?"

Optimus knelt down to her, and stopped her mid-pace with his hand. “We may speak more of this on the way. But I will let no harm come to you. I give you my word.”

She drew in a shaky breath, meeting his eyes. “Okay.”

Then, slowly, her tightly-clenched armor began to loosen and shift away, and she crawled into his hand without another word. Optimus transformed, and, with a tug at her seatbelt for reassurance, he rolled through the Groundbridge with no further hesitation.

Ratchet breathed a sigh after they had gone.

“I thought they would never leave,” he murmured, shutting the bridge behind them.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova looked out the window for a while as Optimus drove the remaining distance to the government facility, a place which, at that present moment, Nova dreaded more than anything.

Almost without thinking, the half-spark formed her helmet.

"Nova."

"Sorry," she said, reluctantly pulling it back into her spinal array. "This is stupid. I feel so exposed like this."

"Agent Fowler has promised me you will be in the safest of hands."

The half-spark let out a sigh as she saw the building come into view. "I know. They just ... won't be yours."

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

About two hours later, Nova had passed through the security checks, with Fowler just behind her, and the agent had escorted her to a small room with a single hooded bulb shining in her face. 

"Wait here," he had said, and departed for his own meeting with a last tug at his tie.

Now, Nova sat in a chair in front of the desk, twisting her fingers. It had been ten Fowler had left ten minutes ago, and since then she had been sitting in this room, waiting to complete her psychological evaluation, whatever that meant. 

Nova rolled that phrase around in her head for a while. She’d never had a psychological evaluation before.

Suddenly, a shadow entered the doorway. The person's face was inscrutable behind the blinding light in her eyes, but Nova could make out a white lab coat rustling around a tall, slim frame. 

This is it. You can do it, Nova. She let out a slow breath. 

“Hello. My name is Henry,” the man said in a pleasant voice. “I am here to conduct your psychological evaluation. I’m sure you won’t object if I ask a few questions?”

Nova folded her arms, trying to see beyond the bulb. “No.”

“I’m sure all this must be very hard for you,” he said kindly, taking a sheaf of papers out of his briefcase. “You haven’t had this much human interaction for a while, I understand.”

“No.”

"That's alright,” he smiled, taking a seat and pulling out a pen. “I'm not one for human interaction myself.”

Nova squinted, trying to catch a good glimpse of him. His voice sounded so familiar.

“Then why are you a doctor?” she asked aloud.

“Ah, dear child,” he said, laughing. “Very droll.” 

He paused for a moment. “I suppose there are other reasons to enjoy my work.”

Nova frowned slightly. She felt that she knew this man from somewhere. Why did he seem so familiar?

“But enough about me,” the doctor said, with a sharp click of his pen. “Let’s move on to our real task, shall we?”

Nova settled back in her chair, and looked down at the ground, her arms tightly folded as she tried not to shake. The room felt smaller by the second. 

Where's Optimus?

“First question,” he said briskly. “Oh, this is a pleasant one. Where were you born?”

Nova frowned a little.

“I don't know,” she muttered.

“Oh, if you don't remember, I can give you a moment to think. Do you suppose it was somewhere in the States? Canada, perhaps?”

Nova thought for a minute.

“Maybe you remember a town?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she intoned, glaring at the ground.

“Oh, I understand,” he said. “But I must inform you that this will be a lot easier if you cooperate—”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it!” Nova growled.

The doctor paused.

“We’ll just come back to those basic questions,” he said cheerfully. “On to the next one. How many siblings do you have?”

Nova’s breath stalled. Her jaw clenched.

“Any sisters?” Henry prompted, seemingly unaware of her discomfort. “A brother, maybe?”

“One,” Nova whispered.

He paused again, as though poised to snatch her answers. “Pardon?”

“One brother.”

“Oh, excellent!” Nova heard him scribble furiously in his notebook. “We are making progress. What was his name?”

“Coby.”

“And how old is Coby?”

“He…” Nova gritted her teeth, trying to control herself. “He was sixteen.”

“Was? Dear me, did something happen to him?”

Nova’s eyes darted towards the desk suspiciously. “That question isn’t on the test.”

“It might not be,” he agreed, tapping the pen. “But part of a psychological evaluation is knowing the psyche itself. In order to accurately assess your mental health, I should dearly like to know what happened to … Coby, was it?”

Nova’s hands clenched tightly in her elbows.

“He died. In a fight.”

“Ah. Part of a gang, was he?”

Nova let out a grim chuckle, but her balled-up fists trembled. “You might say that.”

“And you?” the doctor asked from behind the light. “Were you also a part of this gang? Did you witness his death?”

Nova closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memory. “Yes, I did.”

“I imagine that was … difficult for you.”

She shuddered. The stark image of Coby’s cold, white face — his glassy, vacant eyes, staring at her — leaked into her mind.

Nova growled roughly, shoving down her impending distress. “Look, don’t you have other questions?”

“Oh, well,” he said, skimming over his notepad. “I suppose we could move on, if you are comfortable.”

“Just hurry up.”

“Very well.”

The man leaned forward to grab a better pen from the front of the desk, and the light revealed a rather crooked-looking monstrosity. White hair stood out in shocks on either side of his long, drawn face, framing a lopsided smile and glinting, sharp eyes. Over his right hand, he wore a dark leather glove. 

And as the half-spark caught sight of him for the first time, she froze in her chair and stared, transfixed, at his face.

A memory, unbidden, slammed into her mind.

A white tray, with a newly emptied syringe. A lab table, with restraining straps, glossy and unbreakable, and a padded head-binder resting on the ground. White hair. Pain. A man’s voice.

“Doctor, the circuits are overloading!”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know, sir!”

“Fix it!”

A look of utmost horror flitted across her face, and her eyes grew wide.

“You,” she whispered.

He paused, halfway in the light, but she could see he was grinning — almost leering.

“Pardon?” he asked.

Nova took one look at his smug, knowing stare, and she unfolded her arms, gripping the chair.

“You’re Arkeville,” she seethed, with undiluted hate surging through her veins. “You’re one of them!”

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked, assuming the perfect picture of clinical innocence as he lifted his pen again. “Let’s explore what you mean by ‘them’. Is this the gang you spoke of before? Perhaps this means something very important to you?”

Nova shoved herself up from the chair and strode over to his desk, sticking an accusing finger in his face. 

“Don't play dumb with me,” she snarled. “I remember. I saw you there.”

“You saw me where?”

The half-spark slammed her hands down on the desk, glaring at him with boiling fury. “You injected me with Energon yourself! You were in charge of the stupid projects—” 

She stopped, staring at him.

“You were in charge of Coby.”

Arkeville tilted his head. “Oh?”

“Did you hurt him, too?” she demanded, driving her fist into the desk’s smooth surface. “Did you put the chip in his brain?!”

His mouth curled sideways in a sardonic smile. “You’re the one being evaluated here. Not me.”

Quicker than thinking, Nova reached out and seized him by the coat, dragging him out of his chair.

“I don’t give a rip about your stupid evaluation, you slimy little weasel!” she seethed, her eyes flashing. “What did you do to my brother?!”

Arkeville just kept smiling, the shadows from the disrupted bulb casting harsh ridges across his features. 

“I would calm down if I were you,” he said nonchalantly. “The instant you hurt me, this room will be crawling with soldiers ready to put you in a cell for the rest of your life. You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

At that moment, Nova’s anger was instantly replaced by a horrible realization. She was stuck in a room with the person who was almost solely responsible for her nightmares. How many other soldiers around the room were involved with MECH? She was on enemy territory.

Nova let go of his coat as if she had been burned. Her hands shook. The blood pounded in her ears. She had to get away. She had to get out of this confounded room. 

Arkeville sat back in his chair and smoothed out the collar casually.

“Please, sit down,” Arkeville invited, grinning as he swept a hand toward the chair. “We have so much more to cover.”

Nova darted toward the door, but before she could even touch the handle, Arkeville’s right arm shot out and slammed her in the chest, sending her crashing back into her chair with amazing force. 

He hit a button on his watch, and Nova felt a clanking noise coming from the back of the seat. Metal binders on the arms and legs locked around her ankles and wrists before her armor could form.

Dazed, Nova gasped for breath, staring at him in shock.

“That’s better.” 

Arkeville removed the glove from his right hand as he said this. Underneath the glove was a metal prosthetic, complete with complex finger joints and cruel-looking claws. It glinted dully in the light.

“Remember when you gave me this?” Arkeville asked, smiling.

Nova’s eyes were as wide a deer’s caught in the headlights of a semi.

“You sliced my arm off at the elbow, the day you broke containment,” he remarked, as though discussing the weather.

Nova did not respond. She was trembling. Arkeville did not seem to mind.

“You know, I really should thank you,” he smiled, gazing at her with sick delight. “You inspired the construction of the most advanced prosthetic limb in human history.”

Nova’s breaths came short and fast, her mouth was drying out, and it was so — so hard to breathe. Why was it so hard to breathe? 

She began to panic, feeling as though her chest was caving in. She gasped for air. Chills ran up her arms, mingling with cold sweat.

"Let’s relive some old memories,” Arkeville said, pulling a few tools out of his bag. “Do any of these look familiar to you?”

Petrified, Nova looked at the tools lying on the table, breathing hard. One of them was a laser-edged knife, the only kind MECH possessed which could pierce through her armor, and the other was a familiar metal remote, with one button on it.

“The control for the restraining bands,” he explained, following her horrified gaze. “We used this on you if you misbehaved, remember?”

Nova trembled. Now she knew what the chair was for. 

“Do you know what will happen if you misbehave now?”

She winced.

“Good.” He shuffled his papers, and opened up his notepad. “Hopefully, we will not have to resort to such measures.”

In a quavering croak, Nova murmured, “What … what do you want from me?” 

“Quite simply, I want your mind,” Dr. Arkeville replied. “If you cooperate, it will be much easier for everyone.”

She shook. “And … if I don't?”

He shrugged, and pressed the button.

The hard plate at her back suddenly lit up with jolts of electricity, sending shocks into her spinal cord which should have paralyzed a normal human. Nova rose off the surface of the chair, jerking and tensing with the horrible, stinging, searing pain, unable to scream, the jagged blue fire bottled up under her skin.

Arkeville released the button, and Nova fell back. Spots flew in front of her eyes. She could barely force the breath into her lungs. Her stomach churned. She could not concentrate on what he was saying through the ringing in her ears. For all that, Nova was dimly aware of the fact that he had moved closer to her.

The half-spark’s hands clutched the arms of the chair in a white-knuckled death grip.

“Please…” she croaked.

“Pardon?” Arkeville asked again.

“Please,” she grunted, struggling to speak. “D-Don't hurt me...”

“That’s exactly how your brother begged,” Arkeville said pleasantly, making sure she could hear him. “Just before he lost his mind.”

The words sank into her ears like sharpened knives through flesh. A tear dripped from Nova’s eyes. A sob jarred her throat painfully, and once she had started, she could not stop. She shook in the chair’s horrible embrace, the tears falling from her eyes like rain. Horrible thoughts roiled in her mind. Coby's face appeared before her again. Her skin throbbed. Her head ground out thoughts like an iron forge.

“Let’s move on to another topic,” Arkeville said, leafing through his notepad. “Let’s talk about Stage Three. Your first injection.”

Nova took in a shuddering breath, and clenched her fists on the chair’s arms.

“Do you remember your first injection, Subject Alpha?”

Nova choked on another sob. She remembered.

“What do you recall about that day?”

With a great effort, she raised her eyes. “Frag you.”

He pressed the button again.

This time, the chair was worse. Patches of Nova’s armor jerked out of her body, rattling with the force of the energy leaping through her flesh.

By the time Arkeville let go of the button, Nova was barely conscious. Something like smoke rose from her skin. Perhaps she was burning.

“I suppose you don’t really remember much about your life,” he said cheerfully. “In fact, I’m willing to bet my other arm that you don’t really remember anything at all. You remember less every day, right?"

"I know the difference between a real memory and a false one..."

"You have to remember!"

"Believe the lie if you wish... but it is a lie nonetheless."

Nova let out something like a choked cough. 

"Do you remember where you were born? How you grew up? Any childhood friends? Anything at all about who you were before we found you?” 

Nova closed her eyes, trembling in silence as Arkeville leaned into her ear and said, “No. You don’t.” 

Her body shuddered in revulsion as he cupped her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. 

“Poor thing,” he said, as though speaking to a child. “If only you weren't so very blind.” 

All the half-spark could do was glare at him, and she did so as if it would send poisoned daggers through his heart. 

“Well, I suppose now that your mind is going to be rewritten, it doesn’t really matter what you remember.” With a brisk sigh, Arkeville released her, turning back to the desk and drawing something out of his briefcase. “Let me show you what I've been working on in your absence.”

He showed her what he held in his left hand. Nova struggled to focus, staring at his fleshy fingers through blurred, aching lenses.

“This is a chip,” he explained. “More specifically, it is a sub-cortical, hyper-cerebral implant of my own design. It stimulates the hypothalamus and regulates the basal ganglia in very complicated ways. Since your half-organic brain works more like a computer than the rest of our race, it allows me to alter you, subdue you, control you, whatever suits my fancy.” 

He turned the chip around and around in his fingers, a small smile spreading across his cheeks as he gazed at it. “It really is a wonderful little thing, you know. I’m quite proud of it.

“I wanted to put this in you the first day you came to the facility,” he continued, raising his head to meet her eyes. “But Silas said you weren’t ready — that you needed to be conditioned first.”

Arkeville shrugged. “Our opinions differed. But that isn’t the point. Basically, if I put this behind your ear,” he said, moving closer. “I will be able to control you just like I controlled your brother.”

Nova’s head pounded. Memories of being subjected to the cortical psychic patch flashed through her mind; the sounds of Coby’s uncontrollable rage and his hateful words rang in her ears.

“Get away from me!” she screamed in terror, thrashing against the restraints. “Get away!”

He pressed the button. The horrible electricity shot through Nova’s muscles again, leaving her gasping for breath in the chair as Arkeville tutted to himself.

“I don’t blame you for being afraid,” he said sympathetically as the half-spark twitched. “I’ve heard this treatment is rather painful to resist. I’m surprised your brother lasted for so long against the chip. Really, he should have died.” 

He put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “Oh, yes, I suppose he did in the end, didn’t he?”

Nova sobbed again, her breath hitching horribly in her sticking throat.

“Please …” she groaned. “Please, don’t …”

Arkeville was about to press the button again, when suddenly, the door burst open on its hinges and crashed against the wall.

“That’s enough, Arkeville!” someone shouted. There was a flabby sort of thump, as if that someone had punched a deflated football. The sounds of many heavy boots clomping into the room thundered in Nova’s ears. Soldier’s boots.

“Get ‘er outta there, boys!”

Strong hands pried open the cuffs on her wrists and feet, and before she knew it, Nova was in someone’s arms.

“Hey, kid? Kid, are you alright?”

Nova lashed out blindly, writhing out of Fowler’s grip and staggering out the door. Her armor jutted out out in erratic patches, her eyes were glassy and wide, and shrill ringing filled her ears.

No. Not ringing. What was that horrible sound?

She pressed her hands to her ears. It was Coby — screaming.

Nova screamed louder, trying to drown out the awful noise, and ran.

The white halls stretched before her, and she stumbled through them at a desperate pace, trying to find a way out. Endless halls twisted and turned her about, making her even more desperate for an escape, and then… Ah! Yes! there was a door — a door at last! — and she burst through it without decreasing her speed, sending the door flying off its hinges, shattered glass sprinkling the ground.

Nova staggered out into bright daylight with only one urgent thought on her mind.

Run.

“There she is!” A voice cried behind her. “Nova, stop!” 

Nova did not turn around to see who it was, turning and sprinting away as fast as her body would allow. The whole world was fuzzy and made of bleeding light.

The half-spark charged away from the voices and the screams in a desperate panic. One of her legs was refusing to work properly, but she did not know why. She could barely think at all.

Dimly, she spotted a corner, and rounded it at full speed. She crashed into something hard that sent her reeling backwards.

“Nova?” a deep voice asked. “What happened to you?”

She looked up above her, relief flooding her veins.

“Optimus!”

She wobbled, and her knees collapsed, but she felt something strong sweeping her off the ground and carrying her to a safe height, far away from the earth. Far away from everyone.

“Nova?” Optimus demanded. “Who did this to you?”

“Arkeville,” she choked, pointing in some direction. “Back there…”

She burst into tears, dropping her head into Optimus’ palm.

But before an explanation could be offered, an authoritative voice rang out —

“What in the Sam Hill is goin’ on here?!”

“Agent Fowler, what is the meaning of this?” Optimus asked. “You gave me your word she would not be harmed.”

“That was the plan,” he said, with no small amount of irritation. He gestured to the soldiers accompanying him. “Stand down, boys, I’ll take it from here.”

“But, sir—”

“I said, stand down!” Fowler interrupted, with such authority in his voice that the soldier actually stepped back.

“Right away, sir.”

The soldiers marched back into the building, and Fowler rubbed at his face wearily.

“This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Optimus demanded.

He had been taken off guard by horrific shocks in his spine after the meeting with General Bryce. His first thought was that he was under attack, but as the pain continued and he remained alone, he realized that was not the case. He had stumbled around in a daze, looking for her until she had crashed into his leg. 

“What did they do to her?” he asked, more insistently. 

Fowler shook his head. “I dunno. The interrogator was Dr. Henry Arkeville, a psychoanalyst who’s been working with us for years.”

He grumbled. “I mean, he might’ve been working with us, but he wasn’t workin’ for us. We now have reason to believe he’s secretly been workin’ for MECH, and he was tryna do somethin’ to the kid. He’s been taken into custody.”

“It appears MECH has infiltrated your ranks,” Optimus said gravely. “Or perhaps converted them.”

From the rattling of tense metal and the low rumbling of his engine, Fowler could tell that the Prime was very, very upset, and it was not hard to see why.

Nova had withdrawn into Optimus’ hand, curled up into a ball and taking in short, shallow breaths. She had stopped screaming and crying, but she was a mess — blue tears mixed with the burns on her face and hands, her armor partway off and haphazard on the whole, and her eyes… her eyes stared at nothing, but looked as if her gaze went on forever, staring into eternity.

“What’s wrong with her?” Fowler asked. “I’ve never seen her so scared before.”

“I have,” Optimus said grimly. “I think it would be best if we took our leave of you, Agent Fowler.”

“Does she … Is she gonna be all right?” Fowler asked.

Optimus shook his head. “I do not know.”

Fowler sighed, swearing under his breath.

“All right,” he said. “You go on and do whatever you have to do. I’ll take care of things around here.”

The Prime looked at him with genuine gratitude. “Thank you, Agent Fowler.”

With the girl in his hands, he transformed and drove out through the main gate. The sentries were happy to let him pass. 

Once he had gone, Fowler breathed a sigh and shook his head, putting his hands on his hips.

“Man, it just burns me up to see that kid…”

He put a hand to his eyes. Then, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number, putting it to his ear.

“Operator? This is Special Agent William Fowler. Get me General Bryce.”

He waited. Then, finally, Bryce picked up.

“What is it, Fowler?”

“Bryce. We have a situation,” Agent Fowler said, pacing to and fro as he spoke on the phone. “Turns out the psych interrogator for the kid was Dr. Arkeville.”

“So? We checked out his files. He’s fully certified.”

“He’s most likely an informant for MECH, and he’s been putting the kid under psychological torture for the past half-hour,” Fowler said angrily. “Did you know about this?”

“You know I didn’t. Where’d you put him?”

“We’re arrangin’ transport to the nearest federal prison,” Fowler replied. “He’ll need to be detained by more reliable hands in the future. He's dangerous, and we suspect he might be cybernetically enhanced as well. You’re sure you didn’t know about any of this?”

“I told you, no.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Fowler said, rolling his eyes. “If that information managed to get lost somewhere between his files and my desk, then there’s probably more of them in the works.”

Bryce swore on the other end.

“We need to take care of this before it gets out of hand,” he growled.

“I’m afraid it already might be outta hand, sir,” Fowler said. “As of today, we can’t trust anyone.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova sat quietly in Optimus’ passenger side, her hands balled into fists in her lap. She was staring, listlessly, at her shaking legs, unable to tear her gaze away. Her armor had settled back into her spine, and the burns on her face were beginning to heal, but she was still trembling uncontrollably with something much colder than fear.

Optimus’ seatbelt was pulled tightly around her, as if he hadn’t quite convinced himself that she was safe. His engine rumbled much louder than it should have.

“Ratchet,” he bit out into the commlink. “Please send an immediate Groundbridge.”

“You are too close to population, Optimus,” Ratchet informed him. “I suggest you drive a few miles away from the town to avoid suspicion.”

“Very well.”

Suddenly, Nova let out a quiet sob.

“Optimus…”

“Yes, Nova,” Optimus said firmly, tightening the seatbelt. “I’m here. You do not need to be afraid.”

“B-but he almost put that thing…” Nova shuddered. “He almost got into my head… He — he got into Coby’s head…”

His engine rumbled again, and he tried to regain his control, but he found his wrath beginning to grow as he listened to her cry.

“I know,” he said. “I am … deeply sorry, Nova. I should have been there to protect you.”

Her tears fell faster, and she curled up against his window with awful sadness etched into her eyes.

“But we are fortunate that he did not succeed, and as long as I am alive, I will never leave you again,” continued her guardian, his steering wheel blinking. “I promise.”

Nova sat there for a minute, sniffling as she looked out of the glass.

“Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“Do you…” she shifted a little. “Do you think it’s possible for someone to remember something that never happened?”

“Why do you ask?” he inquired.

“Because I…” she swallowed a little. “I can’t remember my parents. Where I was born. What I did before MECH found me.”

“But I thought you told me you knew your father—”

“I know.” 

She curled up in his seat, pressing her cheek against the headrest. “I thought I knew him. I thought I had a family. But the more I try to remember them, or even what they looked like … the less I can.”

“Perhaps you need to rest.”

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s been like this for a while. At first, I thought I had spent so much time with MECH that my memories were fuzzy. I told myself that they would come back. And I waited, and waited, but they never did. So I just ignored it, because I thought I was crazy.”

She pulled her knees up to her chest. “But then Coby told me he couldn’t remember either. And today, Arkeville…” she squeezed her eyes shut. “He asked me if I could tell him even one thing about my past, and I — I couldn’t.” 

Optimus was quiet, listening to her work it out in her head before she continued. 

“It’s all gone, Optimus,” she ground out at last. “Everything I thought I knew — it’s completely gone. I don’t even know who I am anymore…” 

Her voice dissolved into sobs again, and her armor felt rough against the glass of the window. 

“All I remember … is waking up … but I forgot my dreams. And then MECH took me away. And I got out. And then I met you.” 

“And that is all that you need to remember,” Optimus replied. “You can build a new life with us.” 

“But… what if I used to be something awful?” Nova asked. “What if I had something in my past so horrible that MECH made me forget it?”

“Your past makes no difference to me,” her guardian reassured. 

Nova sniffled. “Really?” 

“I have seen you put yourself at risk to save those around you, even when no one expected you to try. I have seen you rise above your fear and do what is right, over and over again. And I am very proud of you.” 

Nova felt fresh tears roll down her face at his words, and she crumpled again as a shaking smile appeared on her lips for a moment. “Whatever.”

Optimus hummed a little. “Rest, Nova.”

For the first time since they had left the military base, Nova collapsed her helmet, opening up her armor a little to draw a hand over her nose, and gradually, the engine of the truck settled to the regular, comforting rhythm which she so adored. 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Arkeville sat quietly in his cell, fiddling with his wrist mechanisms from time to time. It appeared to the guard that he was suffering from the monotony of jail time, but in reality, Arkeville was sending a coded message to his superiors with very slight electrical signals.

Failed to retrieve Subject Alpha. The asset was not implanted with control chip. Successfully analyzed mental state. Results: Subject shows strong symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. Easily influenced by verbal triggers, mnemonic cues, and familial bonds. Prone to irrational judgment and aggression when manipulated.

False memory implants failing. As a result, Subject Alpha does not remember placeholder events preceding its arrival date. Conclusion: Subject is disoriented and may be easily implanted, once location is discovered. Mission in progress.

“Hey! What are you doing in there?” the guard demanded, hitting the bars with the stock of his gun.

“Nothing, my good man,” Arkeville replied amicably, rotating his prosthetic wrist. “Merely solving a problem, is all.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

That night, Ratchet put down his tools and turned away from the medical table to face Optimus.

“I’ve given her a mild sedative,” Ratchet said quietly. “She’ll be able to rest without nightmares for a while.”

“Thank you, old friend,” Optimus replied.

“Now,” Ratchet said, folding his arms. “Before you do anything to get us into even more trouble with humankind, I suggest you take a seat and tell me exactly what happened today."

Optimus did so, lowering himself onto one of the storage containers and telling the whole story from his perspective.

Agent Fowler’s interview with General Bryce had not gone well, and Optimus had been called in to intervene when the general remained unconvinced of his intent. Shortly afterwards, Optimus had felt a searing pain in his limbs, though the sensation was not his own, and Fowler immediately departed to find Nova. Optimus confided in Ratchet that the pain had felt like being electrocuted.

Then, before Fowler had returned, Nova had crashed into his leg.

“I imagine you were … upset to see her that way,” Ratchet said.

Optimus looked at the little girl lying on the medical table. “She was alone, without my help, and our enemies took advantage of it.”

The medic sighed, folding his arms. 

“Nova has a lot of people gunning for her,” he said. “Trouble follows her wherever she goes. Even you can’t protect her forever.” 

Optimus set his jaw, and did not respond.

Changing the subject, Ratchet tapped a few words into the medical logs. “What was that she was mumbling about when she got home? A headache?”

“No,” Optimus denied, getting to his feet. “She cannot remember anything about her life prior to her captivity.”

“Memory lapses?” Ratchet looked up from the monitor, his head tilted at an odd angle. “Those aren’t uncommon after a traumatic event, especially after the many she’s had.”

“I do not believe that is the cause of her worry, Ratchet,” said Optimus. “Nova believes that her memory has been steadily deteriorating since she found refuge with us. She confided in me that her brother felt the same.”

“Interesting,” Ratchet said, his chin in his hand. “Do you suppose someone could have tampered with her mind? Implanted memories of a past she never had?”

“I would not put such an opportunity past an organization such as MECH,” Optimus replied gravely. 

“But to alter a mind to such a degree, you would need a blank slate,” Ratchet puzzled out. “Which could mean someone else got ahold of her before the humans did."

He thought about this further, nodding his head slowly. "You know, I have speculated that MECH was not the first to give Nova Cybertronian attributes. The Cybermatter in her spinal array is proof of much older tampering.”

“I remember.”

“What does this mean?” Ratchet asked. “If someone else did things to her even MECH couldn't come up with, she could be more dangerous than we ever realized. Where did she come from? Who sent her here? And most importantly,” he said, leveling a stare at the Prime. “What if they come looking for her?”

“We will protect her,” Optimus replied. “As we promised. I will not abandon her in her time of need.”

“What if that kills you?”

Optimus looked at him. “Would I not make the same sacrifice for any of you?”

“Against my better judgment, yes,” said Ratchet. “But everything we know about her only brings up more questions. Why is she so attuned to your pain? And how did she know Unicron was coming before he even awoke? She had no idea Unicron even existed.”

Considering this, Optimus looked down at his chest. “But the Matrix did.” 

Ratchet leaned back, shock written in his eyes. “Are you saying—”

“I am saying that Nova has been bestowed with a great gift — as well as the desire to do right,” Optimus said gravely. “And until we know more about her past, we will treat her with the same dignity we would offer to all sentient life forms, especially those under our care.”

Ratchet sighed deeply. “Well, I’m afraid this strange connection is just something you will both have to bear, until it passes or I find a medical solution to it. In the meantime—” here began to usher the Prime back to his quarters. “You need to stop carrying Nova’s problems on your shoulders and focus on our current situation. You might not have heard, but there is a war on.”

Optimus sighed. “I suppose you are right, old friend.”

“As usual."

Chapter Text

Bulkhead woke to a loud rumbling, like the sound of heavy flight engines. His optics struggled to focus, and his head pounded with sudden pain. Why was everything so loud?

“Ugh,” he groaned, sitting up and placing a hand on his head. “Oh, my head-gasket.”

As his eyes came into focus, he realized something. This place looked familiar, and not in a good way.

“What the—”

He looked around. Dark, metal-plated room, glowing violet accent lights, stacks upon stacks of processed Energon cubes…

“The Cons’ warship?” Bulkhead asked himself, backing up in astonishment. His heel struts dipped suddenly, and he spun around, just in time to avoid the open port in the belly of the ship. “Whoa!”

He had been very close to tripping and plummeting through thin air. The ship was soaring high above the clouds, miles up in the air.

Better stay away from that, he thought to himself. This place is a slagging death trap.

“Ratchet, don’t ask me how I got here — long story,” Bulkhead said into his comms.

To his surprise, there was no response. No static, no feedback, nothing.

“Ratchet. You copy?”

No answer.

“Oh, scrap,” Bulkhead growled. He’d have to make it on his own, which wouldn’t be easy; the place was probably crawling with Cons.

As cautiously and quietly as he could, Bulkhead tiptoed through the door, with a wary glance up and down the hallway. 

No Cons. That was weird.

“Stealthy … stealthy…” he muttered.

He jumped at a sudden noise. Footsteps.

Frag, there were Cons after all. Three troopers, headed straight for him.

Bulkhead turned to dart back into the Energon storage room, but the door shut in his face. His body slammed up against it clumsily. Apparently, it had an automatic lock.

Panicking, trying to make himself look small — which was a challenge, believe it or not — Bulkhead ducked behind a corner just as the patrolling troopers walked by. Miraculously, they took no notice of him.

Gradually, Bulkhead eased out from his position and backed away from the troopers, keeping an eye on them, making sure they didn’t see his escape —

Until something sharp slammed into his back.

Bulkhead whipped around, guns at the ready, only to be greeted by a familiar face. 

Again, not familiar in a good way.

“Starscream?!”

His wings still flared, the Seeker lowered his own guns and groaned in exasperation.

“Why is it,” he seethed, “that every time I return to my old stomping grounds, I find an Autobot roaming the halls?”

He glared at Bulkhead in disgust. Bulkhead’s reaction was mutual.

“Don’t tell me you came crawling back to Megatron,” he growled.

The Seeker stiffened in indignation. “Hardly. Now, out of my way.”

He tried to walk past the Wrecker, but Bulkhead raised his hands, moving to block his path.

“Scream, you gotta show me the way off this boat,” he said, getting straight to the point. He didn’t want to be here any longer than he needed to be.

“Sorry, too busy,” Starscream replied. Strangely enough, he did seem to be busy. There was a sense of urgency about him; Bulkhead got the distinct feeling that the Seeker was supposed to be somewhere else. But Bulkhead didn’t care. He was supposed to be somewhere else, too.

“Look,” he growled, pointing a finger into Starscream’s scrawny chest. “When you needed help—”

“As I recall, we bartered,” Starscream interrupted, angrily sweeping his arm away, “So, unless you have anything of value to offer me; step aside!”

Bulkhead began to get really angry.

“The exit. Now!”

Starscream’s eyebrows flared. “I may have given Arcee a free pass when she and I last met — !”

He slashed his talons across Bulkhead’s chest, shaving off a shower of sparks and causing the Wrecker to stumble back.

“— But I won’t hesitate to skewer you as I did a certain Cliffjumper,” Starscream hissed, glaring at the Wrecker.

Bulkhead grunted in pain, moving his shaking hand away from his chest to reveal the gashes that the talons had carved into his chassis.

He looked at Starscream, and then the Seeker realized his fatal mistake.

“Rrraaauugh!” Bulkhead roared, charging forward. He formed his mace and slammed it up into Starscream, sending the smaller mech flying.

Starscream hit the floor with a groan, but sat up almost instantly with his guns ratcheted back, an expression of rage in his face.

“Perish, Bulkhead!” he snarled.

But Bulkhead was bigger and stronger than he was, and he was angry. He leapt into the air with another roar and slammed his mace down onto the terrified Seeker, over and over again.

“This is for Cliffjumper!”

Crash!

“For Bumblebee!”

Crash!

“For everything.”

Crash!

With a final blow from the Wrecker’s mace, the Seeker stopped struggling, and Bulkhead could see the light fading from what was left of his eyes.

Before he could think better of his decision, Bulkhead knew it was too late. Starscream was dead.

Panting, the Wrecker stepped away from the Seeker in horror. Realizing what he had done, Bulkhead deactivated his mace and glanced down at his hands.

“He … left me no choice,” he said to himself.

Even still, there was a horrible sense of guilt leaking into his Spark.

What did I just do?

It didn’t matter. It really was going to slow him down if he kept thinking about it. Someone had probably heard the noise. If Soundwave was on board, he would definitely already have heard it.

Bulkhead dragged the body into the nearest storage closet and left it there, looking around the hall for anything he could use to get off the ship.

The nearest door was standing wide open, revealing the familiar array of computer monitors and keypads that told Bulkhead only one thing.

“A comm unit!”

He rushed over to the computer, and almost groaned in frustration.

Of course, it all had to be Decepticon-friendly stuff. Why can’t they have normal comm keypads like everyone else?

He began to press the buttons that looked most familiar. He could do this. He could do this.

“Bulkhead to base. Do you read?”

The glowing display of the planet spun before him, giving no indication that his message had even been delivered. He kept pressing buttons.

“Do you copy?” Bulkhead said, his voice taking on a desperate edge. This whole ship was giving him a bad feeling in his transistors. Their computers were no help. He pressed more buttons

“Stupid Con tech,” he grumbled, trying to figure it out. “Is this thing even on?”

As he pressed every wrong button, the system suddenly flared with a red light, and ringing alarms began to blare from the monitor. Bulkhead put his hands over his audio receptors.

Scrap!

He panicked for a second, gathered his wits and glanced down at the keyboard, hitting the center button quickly. Mercifully, the alarms stopped.

“Whew,” he breathed, sliding his hand away from his audial. Think they heard that?

The sudden sound of a door sliding open gave him the answer. Bulkhead bolted, trying to get out of sight of the two Vehicons entering the room. Knowing he couldn’t outrun them, he ducked into an adjoining hall and waited, not daring to make a sound.

“Halt!” the Vehicons shouted, charging past his hiding place. Thank Primus they hadn’t seen him.

I really have to get outta here.

Bulkhead fled the scene, painfully aware of how obnoxious his footsteps were. Why did he have to be so loud?

Behind him, blinking quietly, an icon flashed onto the monitor screen. A Decepticon beacon had been activated. 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Optimus,” Ratchet said, calling the others over. “No word yet from Bulkhead. But I am detecting some rather curious subterranean frequencies.”

“Of Earthly origin?” Optimus inquired.

Ratchet pressed a few buttons on the computer. “I do not yet know what they are, but I do know where.”

A red dot pinged on the map, in a familiar location.

“The coordinates at which we last encountered Megatron,” Optimus observed.

“And Airachnid,” Arcee said, her voice laced with hate.

“And Airachnid’s Insecticon,” Ratchet reminded them, turning from his monitor.

Bumblebee buzzed in remembrance. They would have to be careful.

“I’ll lock on the Groundbridge coordinates,” Ratchet said.

Optimus looked around. “Where is Miko?”

Arcee shrugged. “She was here a minute ago.”

The Prime made his way to the back of the base. Miko was there, curled up in a ball underneath the medical table.

Optimus bent down. “Miko?”

Miko was on the edge of tears. She looked out at him, her eyes glistening.

“Where is he?” she asked. “He’s been gone for a whole day! What if he’s — what if he’s…”

She broke off, hiding her head in her arms.

“Ratchet informed us that Bulkhead is fine,” Optimus said. “His vitals are unchanged. He will be back home soon.”

Miko sniffled. “Are you sure?”

Optimus nodded. “Yes. And when he returns, I know he will be very happy to see you.”

The girl, smiling, got to her feet and wiped her eyes a little.

“Yeah, you’re — you’re probably right,” Miko said, her face brightening. "Thanks, Boss bot!"

She bounded out of the room, most likely intending to annoy Ratchet.

Optimus looked solemnly at the girl on top of the table. Nova had still not awakened. She looked very pale, and still. If it were not for the vitals beside the bed, pinging steadily, Optimus would have thought …

He stifled his worry and turned to leave, but something troubled him. Something told him not to leave. Something felt wrong in his tanks; a sense of fatigue, or illness.

Optimus turned and walked away before he could change his mind. He had to stop being so protective. If Jack’s interactions with his mother were any indication; humans didn’t like people who hovered.

“Open the Groundbridge, old friend,” Optimus said, approaching Ratchet. “Autobots, prepare to roll out.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Airachnid reveled in the feeling of being in complete sync with her hundreds of warriors, her multitudes of servants, the Insecticons which bent to her every will. Her first servant had been loyal enough, but sadly, he had not lasted long against Megatron, and her first attempt at revenge was thwarted.

But ever since she had found an entire hive of his brothers in this cave, hidden away in the depths of the planet’s mountains, Airachnid had known revenge would finally be hers. She bided her time, and waited for the right moment to bring her power to bear against the warlord once again. And when the Decepticon beacon had finally been activated, she knew, finally, that this was the day she would taste vengeance.

She leaned down to the entrance to the cave with a hint of a smile, her many legs curled into her back, and she cried:

“Arise, my armada, and attack!”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The first sight that greeted the Autobots as they exited the Groundbridge was not a welcome one. Hordes of Insecticons spurted out from between the rocks of the mountain and shot into the air, taking flight and swarming in the sky. The Insecticons were not even aware of the Autobots’ presence, and traveled in a specific direction with clear intent.

Optimus took one look, and voiced what they were all thinking.

“We are in all likelihood witnessing the launch of a mission to terminate Megatron,” he said, walking towards the cliff and looking down.

“I can’t think of a reason to stop that,” Arcee said, staring up at the horde. “Even if we could."

“But we can stop Airachnid,” Optimus replied, looking down at the spider like femme, who gazed out at her armada with twisted, gleeful pride.

Optimus armed his battle mask, and the Autobots charged their weapons, aiming directly for Airachnid.

Unfortunately, she heard the sound.

“Rear guard,” she commanded clearly. “Engage the Autobots.”

Prime looked up in surprise as six Insecticons broke off from the group and spiraled down towards them, ion cannons locked and loaded.

The Autobots leapt back, shielding themselves as the Insecticons rained laser fire on the mountain, sending up plumes of red fire and smoke.

Airachnid turned to watch, pleased, as the three hapless Autobots disappeared in the fog of black. But suddenly, the vehicle form of Arcee shot out from the cloud, trailing smoke from her wheels and landing just where Airachnid stood, causing the spider to retreat. Optimus and Bumblebee, their lasers lighting up with blue fire, stood atop the mountain, downing one Insecticon after another as Arcee pursued the renegade femme alone, in hot pursuit of her nemesis.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova woke up slowly, and the first thing she saw was a shadowy, human shape, poised above her. She had been caught belly-up. She was vulnerable. It was going to kill her!

Terrified, the half-spark reacted the only way she knew how. Adrenaline shot through her body, spurring her into deadly panic. Armor snapped over her arms in record time as she charged up her weapons and shoved the person back. “Get off me!”

“Whoa, whoa, Novster!” the person said, scrambling away as Nova raised her guns. “Chill out! It’s only me!”

Breathing hard, Nova blinked rapidly, trying to force air into her lungs. The shadows cleared from her eyes as she gaped up at the girl.

“Miko?!” she choked.

“Uh, duh!” Miko said, frightened and more than a little irritated. “Who’d ya think it was?”

Nova let her head fall back, gasping into the safety of her helmet.

“Holy slag,” she whispered. “Oh my gosh.”

“Um … I’m sorry.” Miko still stayed a safe distance from her, eyeing the half-spark warily. “Uh… Nova? Were you really gonna … you know … kill me?”

The question dangled in the air. Nova squeezed her eyes shut, and shuddered with the thought of what she had almost done to Miko. Her hands tingled, and went slick with sweat. Her head pounded.

“Miko, I —” She swallowed, trying to force some moisture down her dry throat. “Just get outta here. Leave me alone.”

Miko cocked her head to the side, surveying Nova’s face.

“Uh, Nova, are you okay?” she asked cautiously. “You look kinda…” she waved her hand a little. “Off.”

At the moment, Nova didn’t even have the strength to wipe away the beads of sweat trickling down her forehead. Something was wrong. Her hands felt clammy. Why was it so cold in the medibay? And why did her tongue feel like a swelling lump of clay in her mouth?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she forced herself to say. “Where — where’s everyone?”

“Out fighting Cons,” Miko replied. “Bulkhead’s been gone all day. He went out to find Energon and never checked in. I’m kinda worried about him. But maybe he’ll get the chance to trash some Insecticons! And Airachnid’s shown up again, so maybe Arcee will get to beat her nemesis. I bet they’re on some awesome Con scrapping mission right now. Maybe they’re even beating up Megatron! Wouldn’t that be sweet?”

Nova did not respond.

Miko bent down to look closer at her. The half-spark was shaking.

“Nova?”

No answer.

Timidly, Miko tapped Nova’s metal shoulder.

“Uh … Novster? You okay?”

Nova winced, and shifted away from her.

“Stop,” she hissed, shivering. “Please.”

Miko’s eyes widened.

“Nova?”

“Go ‘way.”

Alarmed, Miko reached down and shook her in earnest. “Nova, get up!”

Nova opened her eyes slowly. They were dull, red, weary. She raised her gaze to Miko’s face. Even through the helmet, Miko could see that Nova’s face glistened with a mixture of sweat and tears, and she took in short, shallow breaths, as though she had lost all of her strength in the five minutes since she had woken up.

Nova grimaced.

“Stop it…” she said weakly. “Go away...”

Something was definitely wrong.

Miko jumped to her feet. “I’ll go get Ratchet! Stay here!”

She slid clumsily down the table’s leg and dropped to the floor, stumbling a bit and charging up the stairs.

“Ratchet! You gotta come quick!”

Ratchet never turned from his computer. “What is it now, Miko?”

“I think there’s something wrong with Nova!”

The medic grumbled a little.

“Yes, yes, Miko. Nova has a little something called PTSD. Now, please try to be quiet while I attempt to get a fix on Bulkhead’s coordinates. The scrapes he gets into, I swear to Primus…” he said something under his breath and kept typing.

“Ratchet!” Miko said sharply. “Nova’s sick!”

Pausing, Ratchet turned to her.

“What?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Miko said. “Nova’s sick. Like, sick sick! She’s barely moving and she’s hot and stuff.”

Without another word, Ratchet abandoned the computer monitor and strode into the medibay, opening his scanner as he approached the table.

“Has she said anything to you?” he demanded of the girl who watched behind the railing.

“Uh, yeah, she tried to shoot me when she woke up,” Miko said.

"She tried to shoot you?!"

“Well, Jack says I am pretty intimidating,” Miko smirked, flexing her muscles.

“It might be a side-effect of the sedatives,” Ratchet muttered to himself, scanning the half-spark. “Then again, it might just be fatigue. But she slept for so long… maybe it’s some human virus she’s caught…”

He switched off the scanner and looked over the results intently. 

“Elevated temperature, heightened pulse, low energy…” he abandoned the scanner and bent over the half-spark, peering down at her.

“Is it the flu?” Miko asked.

Ratchet ignored her.

“Nova,” he said quietly, rolling her over on her back. “Nova, can you look at me, please?”

The question was casual, almost gentle. This was serious. Miko hardly ever heard that tone of voice from Ratchet.

Nova looked up at the medic, and feebly tried to move away, her guns still armed.

“Don't touch me,” she mumbled, flinging them in his direction.

“It's all right,” said Ratchet, inspecting her closely. “I'm trying to help."

She lifted her guns with a growl, sweat rolling down her nose. "I said, get away from me!"

Ratchet removed his hands, raising them slightly. "Nova. I'm not going to hurt you. I would never do that. I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong."

Slowly, Nova lowered her shaking guns, more from fatigue than anything else. Ratchet held off on contact for a second, asking instead, "How do you feel?”

With a sigh, the half-spark murmured something incoherent, and closed her eyes. “Head hurts.”

“What else hurts?” Ratchet asked, stooping to lift her chin, inspecting her face, neck, and eyes with the practiced eyes of a medic.

“I dunno,” Nova hissed. “Everything hurts.”

“Be more specific.”

She grumbled a little, attempting to pull away.

“My bones hurt,” she said softly. “Can’t move very well.”

“Go on,” Ratchet said.

“My back hurts, too,” she winced. “Like … a lot.”

“Can you transfor—" Ratchet corrected himself. "Can you take off your armor?”

"No!" she cried, lifting her blasters. "I won't let you!"

"I am asking you to do it," he said calmly. "You are safe here. I won't even touch you."

Nova paused for a moment, staring up at him as the terror subsided from her eyes. With a sigh, she dropped her trembling arms. "Fine."

One by one, her guns collapsed, and her hands were free, then her helmet followed, revealing disheveled hair and sunken eyes. But once she tried to pull apart the armor at her chest, it snapped back together like magnetic strips. 

A terrible silence followed as she tried again and again, with the same results.

“I -- I can’t!” Nova gasped, and her breath hitched as panic began to seize her. “I can’t do it! It hurts!”

“All right, all right, just relax,” Ratchet said. “It’s all right. Do you feel anything else wrong?”

Breathing quickly, clenching her fists, Nova gulped and kept her eyes wide open, her wild gaze fixed on the medic.

“I don’t know!”

“Nova, calm down,” Ratchet ordered. “I’m trying to help you. Can you tell me anything else?”

“I’m … cold,” she said. “I’m … really, really cold…”

Sweat sprinkled her forehead, trickled down her jawbone. Ratchet stared at her face intently, his sharp eyes scrutinizing her body as he searched for all the signs and symptoms of every affliction he could remember. For all his concern, he still spoke as gently as before. 

“Well, that won’t do, will it? We’ll get you warm and turn off the lights, and you can take a nap. How does that sound?”

Exhausted, Nova tilted her head a little. “Okay…”

The half-spark’s words were slurred, soft, as if she was putting as little effort into speaking as possible. Within a few more seconds, she had fallen into a light doze.

Having learned everything he needed to know, Ratchet stood up straight and put his scanner away.

“Hey! Is she dying?” Miko asked in a loud whisper.

Ratchet glanced at her briefly as he dimmed the lights.

“Dying? No, I don’t think so,” he said, exiting the medibay. “But she is in a strange condition. You say she attacked you when she woke up?”

“No!” Miko said. “I mean, for a second, I thought she was gonna, but she didn’t.”

“Did she use her armor then?”

“Yeah.”

The medic mused on this quietly, walking back to his computer and mumbling a few things under his breath.

“Adrenaline surge … rapid pulse, temperature swings … delirium? …maybe it’s just stress… then again… possible symptoms of...”

Miko followed him around the railing again, unsure what to make of this new Ratchet she had discovered. It was strange to see him this caring. If the other Bots were sick, he’d berate them or wrench them for giving him less sass than Nova had. 

Yes, this was weird, but Miko was delighted. This was the exact opposite of a boring day!

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Bulkhead lumbered through the lower ventilation shafts of the warship’s main decks as best he could. Why on earth did he have to get stuck on the warship, today of all days? He and Miko had had plans today. Big plans. Fun plans. Plans that did not involve killing Starscream or running from Vehicons or getting trapped in their enemy’s mobile base of operations, or almost-dying at all.

It might have happened anyway, but still. It was much less epic when it wasn’t his own choice.

“Stealthy … stealthy,” he told himself out loud. He was headed for the flight deck on the aft section of the warship. If he could get outside, maybe he could radio for help. In any case, being outside was much better than sneaking around in here.

Where the slag am I going, anyhow? What direction is this? Just keep going. You’ll get somewhere…

“Stealthy…”

A trooper’s voice suddenly blared over the comms unit.

“Lord Megatron.”

Bulkhead froze. Megatron? If they were addressing the warlord himself, then that meant --

Oh, slag, no. No.

“Yes, what is it?” Megatron’s voice replied, making Bulkhead’s Energon run cold. He realized with a burning horror that he was right next to the Decepticon warlord’s feet. If he made any noise now, he would die.

Shut up!

“An intruder,” the trooper reported over the comm.

“Autobot?” Megatron inquired.

Bulkhead cringed, awaiting the affirmative reply. This was it. He was going to get found out. He was going to be slagged in the middle of the Decepticon warship. He would never watch another monster movie with Miko again. He would never see Wheeljack or Arcee or Bumblebee again —

“Starscream,” the trooper replied. “He was last seen in the vicinity of the bridge.”

Bulkhead gaped.

But, I just scrapped Starscream …

Megatron stalked off in the opposite direction, heading for the bridge. His receding footsteps brought Bulkhead back to reality.

I gotta get outta here. This is too crazy for one day. Where’s the exit?

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The spider-bot leapt from the toppled heights of boulders as she fled from the blue motorcycle, loping through the forest at an uncanny pace.

Arcee revved up her engine, pushing her highest speeds as she hurtled toward her nemesis. The trees blocked Airachnid’s escape by air, and no matter how fast she ran, the spider did not stand a chance against Arcee’s speed in vehicle mode. She would get her this time. She would make her pay for everything she did to Tailgate. This was it. This was the day!

A forceful laser blast from behind knocked Arcee off course. She popped an easy wheelie, managing to stay on her wheels as she launched herself forward. She propped up her rearview mirror to glance at the sky behind her. Sure enough, there were two Insecticons hot on her tail.

I don’t fragging have time for this.

The Insecticons launched laser bolts at her, one after the other, punching into the soil and rocks around the motorcycle, but the brutes were so intent upon hitting their target that they did not notice the tree in front of them, until it was too late.

The first Insecticon narrowly missed the tree and careened off course, colliding with his fellow and spinning off into the air, headed directly for their mistress and queen herself.

“No!” Airachnid shouted, unable to stop the hurtling mass until it had knocked her off the boulder mound.

Arcee skidded to a stop on the edge of the overhang, transforming and staring down into the hollow where Airachnid had fallen.

The familiar drilling noise of the tunneling femme rang out into the forest, and when the dust had settled, only a hole remained.

Arcee walked to the edge of the tunnel and stared down into it, knowing that her enemy lay at the end, waiting for her.

“Underground,” she muttered to herself. “There’s a surprise.”

She was going to follow her. Of course she was. There was no other option.

Without hesitating, without calling for backup or turning back, Arcee drew her weapons and leapt into the tunnel, intent on fulfilling her purpose.

Tailgate would be avenged today.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Megatron paused in the last corridor before the bridge, quietly surveying the remains of fallen Vehicon troopers at either side of the entrance. They had been quickly and messily dispatched, and deep talon gouges could be seen embedded into their lifeless chassis, giving him assurance of exactly who he was dealing with.

These troopers had likely been taken off their guard, attacked mercilessly while their backs were turned, or while they were working at their posts. They had not deserved to die with such disgrace.

He entered the bridge with his fusion cannon raised. Vehicon parts and chassis shavings littered the ground. Megatron kept walking, wary but unafraid. If he knew anything about Starscream, the Seeker would either be waiting in ambush or preparing a needlessly dramatic monologue specifically for his arrival.

It appeared to be the latter.

Starscream stood, with his back turned, at the main console on the end of the bridge, his hands folded behind his back.

Megatron had not run out of patience to the point where he would shoot Starscream in the back. Not yet. Part of him was curious to see where this was headed. Part of him wanted to let Starscream make his next move in this ridiculous game they had concocted over the years. The audacity of his former second-in-command never failed to amuse him.

That, Megatron reasoned, was probably the real reason he had made the mistake of keeping him around for so long. At times, he took a sick sort of interest in Starscream’s game. Unfortunately, treachery seemed to be the only game the Seeker was willing to play.

He kept his fusion cannon raised anyhow. Starscream was reckless, but he was not an idiot. He always had something planned.

Sure enough, as Megatron neared, the Seeker turned around, his customary smirk plastered on his face.

“Megatron,” he said, almost nonchalantly. “It has come time to settle old scores."

The warlord let out a laugh, and lowered his fusion cannon. He did not know what he was expecting, but this — this was ridiculous.

“Really, Starscream?” he asked aloud. “All on your own?”

“Actually…” a chorus of familiar voices rang out.

Megatron glanced to his left and to his right.

He was surrounded by not one, not two, but three more Starscreams, each standing with their right arm raised, rockets pointed directly at his head.

Megatron faced forward once again and directed a look at the nearest Starscream. 

This was certainly an amusing turn of events. Not exactly what he was expecting, but in this game, being surprised was part of the fun. 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova was miserable.

She had tried several times to stay asleep, but she kept falling into that awful half-awake doze that always afflicts the sick. It tortured her, dangling her over the tantalizing promise of rest, but jerking her back into consciousness every time a chill gripped her bones.

She shivered. The dark room had provided some relief to her eyes, but it was still hard to form any staggering thoughts between the rhythmic poundings in her head. It felt as though Bulkhead was slamming his maces into her skull, over and over.

Nova breathed tentatively, knowing that if she took a really deep lungful, it would send a rush of oxygen into her throbbing head, and she didn’t want that to happen. So she settled for short, shallow gasps, attempting to stay as still as possible.

Her face and skin felt so hot, but she was trembling with an empty sort of chill. Every slight movement felt strange, foreign, as if she were slowly coming detached from her own body. Above it all, the dull, persistent aches pulsed in her back.

Half-awake, Nova thought about getting up. She thought about it for a long time. 

Her consciousness swung like a pendulum, dragging her in and out of limbo.

Over the course of who-knows-how-long, Nova sped through several short, snippy dreams that almost convinced her she really had gotten up, and even made her believe for a minute that she was actually walking around and moving.

But every time the pendulum swung back again, Nova awoke to find herself lying on the hard medibay slab, no more mobile than a tree stump.

At this point, just raising her head seemed like an insurmountable task — but the thought of actually standing felt as daunting as climbing Mount Everest.

After what seemed like several feverish hours, Nova opened her eyes a little.

Am I awake? 

She thought about it a moment, just to be sure.

Not quite. 

With a tremendous effort, Nova gradually pulled herself out of unconsciousness, and slowly became aware of her body again. Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth, her ears seemed stuffed with loads of ringing cotton, and she could feel her own teeth in all the most uncomfortable ways. Sweat plastered her forehead, drying in her hair, adding to the cold she already felt.

What’s happening to me?

Internally, she told herself to get up, demanding action, but her body was disgusted with the thought. 

Rest.

No! She had rested long enough. It was high time she got up and did something.

Nova gathered all her will, and slowly managed to raise her head. The entire room spun around her. Her head pounded painfully, her bones protested in harmony with her aching muscles, but the half-spark squeezed her eyes shut, and finally forced herself to sit up, swaying a little in the darkness.

Nova sighed, lowering her head to her knees as she took a break.

Well. She was kind of sitting up.

Now what?

She hadn’t thought that far. She could barely think at all. She put her hands on her forehead and groaned, trying to drown out the throbbing in her ears.

Nova supposed the next step would be to slide off the medibay table. She opened her eyes a little, and tilted her head, glancing over the edge. It seemed a lot higher than normal.

Normally, Nova could just jump off and be done with it. Now, she was overwhelmed by the fear that she would pulverize every bone in her body, and hit the floor like some kind of soggy pancake.

Whatever. Dying would be better than this, whatever this was.

She rocked to the side, tipping her body forward and pulling herself toward the edge. Almost, almost. Just a few more inches —

"Ugh..."

“What are you doing?!”

Nova glanced up at the sound of striding footsteps, and Ratchet was suddenly right there.

“R-Ratchet?”

__________________

“Why are you getting out of bed?” the medic demanded, rescuing her before she slipped over the side. “I told you to rest.”

“No,” Nova mumbled, squirming as he placed her back on the slab again. “Leggo 'me.”

Ratchet answered perhaps a little more irritably than he should have. He had a lot on his mind.

“Our scout and leader are busy fighting a horde of Insecticons, Arcee’s gone AWOL, and I’m trying to pin down the location of one missing pain in the aft who left me stuck with his hyperactive human partner,” he snapped. “Your stubborn insistence on getting out of bed isn’t helping things.”

Nova shivered underneath his gaze, turning away from him. Ratchet was silent for a moment.

“I’m … sorry, Nova,” he sighed. “I’m just trying to get everyone home alive, is all.”

Nova still trembled.

“Where’s Optimus?” she inquired, barely speaking above a whisper.

Ratchet hesitated.

“He’s out on a mission,” he replied simply. “He’ll be back soon.”

“But—” she murmured, lapsing into another round of insensibility, “But I want Optimus…”

“Optimus is busy,” Ratchet said quietly.

Nova groaned, and her eyes squeezed shut. The pain etched into her face made Ratchet’s Spark ache.

“What’s happening to me, old man?”

Ratchet was silent for a moment. 

“Do you really want to know?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Well,” he sighed. “I can’t be certain without any tests, but I think your body is adjusting to some changes.”

“What changes?”

“Well,” the medic said again. “Did you ever feel like this when MECH started to inject you with larger doses of Energon?” 

Nova trembled. “Uh-huh.” 

“I think that’s happening again. Your Cybertronian half is emerging a little further, and at the same time … I think you’re losing a little more of your humanity.”

The half spark was silent for several minutes. Ratchet had begun to wonder if she had heard his words at all. 

Then, Nova let out a soft moan, her chest heaving with sobs. 

__________________

Something deep in her brain told her crying would only make her feel worse, but she didn’t care. She felt awful, and she was going to cry about it.

In the middle of her stifled whimpering, Nova felt something soft and warm clothe the length of her body. She froze, sniffling, as strong metal hands tucked a blanket around her shoulders. It felt … warm, and heavy, almost like having a really big hug all over.

Her sobs gave way to quiet groans.

"What are you doing to me?"

“It's a blanket,” Ratchet’s voice soothed, tucking the cloth round her. "It’s all right. Go back to sleep.”

Relenting a little, Nova burrowed into the blanket, resting her helmet on the table as she sniffled. Ratchet began to fade out of focus as the half-spark drifted into limbo again. Soon, she was mostly asleep, shuddering every so often with a remaining sob.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Megatron surveyed the scene, and despite himself, he felt surprised. Starscream had thrown something new at him this time. 

Surrounded by four Starscream lookalikes, Megatron wondered how this had happened to begin with. Where on earth was Soundwave? He could use a certain Communications Officer right about now. Come to think of it, why had a Vehicon notified him of Starscream’s presence? That was most certainly Soundwave’s job.

“Clones,” he remarked, glancing over his shoulder at the Starscream who had first apprehended him. “Well played, Starscream — if you are even here among your underlings.”

“Underlings?” Starscream Clone Number One spat indignantly.

Ah, yes. Touchy. Megatron grinned a little to himself. Starscream in any form was ridiculously easy to insult. That was part of what made the game so amusing.

“We are as one,” Clones Two and Three corrected, all of them keeping their weapons raised. “Though many!”

Megatron put his fists on his hips, nailing the nearest Starscream with a low-browed look. 

There was an easy way out of this. Starscream could be easily swayed by promises of power.

“Bring me Starscream’s head on a stick,” the warlord offered. “And I will reward you as my Second in Command — all of you.”

There was a pause. Megatron’s tactic was working. He could see the Starscreams looking at each other uncertainly, deliberating, thinking it over. They were tempted, just as Starscream would be, to get ahead in whatever way they could.

True, Megatron had no real intention of promoting them to anything more than molten slag, but they did not need to know that.

“No!” one of the Starscreams barked. “You’re trying to trick us!”

“Am I?” Megatron asked, smiling a little.

Starscream Three glanced at his fellows. “Is he?”

“Accept my proposal, and we all win,” Megatron said, sprinkling a little truth on top of his deception cake for effect. “Otherwise, you will merely end up terminating each other to get the spoils.”

He grinned again. “It is your nature, after all.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Starscream Two cried.

“Prepare to perish at my hand,” Starscream Four growled.

“Our hands!” they chorused.

“Yes,” Starscream One agreed, spurred on by new purpose. “Only our combined firepower will assure Megatron’s destruction!”

“Take aim!” Starscream Three shouted.

Megatron gritted his teeth. Were they actually going to terminate him rather than cheat their way to the top? They were more stubborn than he had expected.

Then again, what had he expected? This was Starscream — multiple Starscreams. The collective stubbornness in this room was suffocating.

Megatron clenched his fists, and quietly prepared to beat the slag out of each and every one of them, but the assassination attempt was interrupted by a strange noise.

A sort of roaring buzzing began to permeate the room, causing the Starscreams to hesitate.

“Do you hear that?” Starscream One asked, tilting his head toward the ceiling.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

In the depths of the ship, crawling through the ventilation shafts, Bulkhead heard it too.

What kind of weird fraggery is goin’ on up here?

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Outside, the sun was slowly obscured by an enormous, living cloud of Insecticons, which slowly branched off into several tendrils and began to engulf the warship, the buzzing of their wings increasing tenfold as they neared the Nemesis.

Their target: Megatron. Their mission: Kill on sight.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

On the bridge, facing Megatron, the Starscreams were becoming agitated. The noise was very loud, now. A sense of impending doom had settled on them all. But that could wait.

“Ignore!” Number Two shouted. “Fire on Three!”

“One!”

“Two—”

A sudden crash made the ship lurch, causing Megatron to stumble and all the Starscreams to fall to the ground.

A pity. The Seeker was never good at staying on his feet.

But the gladiator was.

The nearest clone rolled over, groaning. “What was that?”

He glanced up, only to meet the business end of Megatron’s fusion cannon.

“The sound of the tables turning,” Megatron replied.

The weapon erupted in a burst of violet energy, killing the clone instantly.Megatron did not stop there. One by one, two more of the Starscreams fell. The last Starscream gaped up in terror in the face of Megatron’s wrath, realizing that this was probably the end of his new life.

Megatron trained his cannon toward the Seeker, and fired into his chest — not to kill, not to destroy; just to cripple. This wretched creature may not have been Starscream, but all the same, he had dared to defy Megatron, and he would be rewarded with a slow death.

The ship rumbled and creaked with the amount of firepower pummeling the Nemesis. As the Insecticon swarm came around for another strike, Megatron approached the Seeker, who was attempting to crawl away — to retreat. As he always did.

“Exterminating you was so gratifying the first three times,” Megatron hissed in evil amusement, watching the clone claw at the floor. Starscream ducked, turning away from the certain doom that was about to be doled out to him — when another sudden crash shook the warship, enough to make Megatron almost lose his balance.

Seizing the opportunity to escape, Starscream hobbled out the door.

No matter. It probably was not the real Starscream anyway. Megatron let him go, and turned to the front of the bridge, turning on the vid screen to see what was happening out there. Starscream was of little consequence. The Insecticons surrounding his ship provided more immediate concerns.

“Airachnid,” he realized, observing the bug-like brutes pummeling the ship’s bow. “A busy day for assassins.”

Soundwave would not have stood for this.

Where the frag was he?

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The last of the Insecticon guards lay smoking on the ground, nothing more than twisted lumps of wreckage, now. Optimus got to his feet and glanced at Bumblebee, who had broken the back of one of the Insecticons himself. There was someone missing.

Of course, she was missing.

“Arcee,” Optimus commed, trying to get ahold of her.

No response. The commlink buzzed in his audio receptor.

“Ratchet,” he tried again. “Have you had any contact with Arcee?”

“No, Optimus,” the medic replied. “But I am getting a reading about a mile away from your position.”

“What direction?” Optimus inquired.

“Down,” said Ratchet. “I assume that means she ran into Airachnid again?”

Bumblebee beeped and urgently pointed to a string of tire tracks leading east.

“We will locate her,” Optimus said into the commlink.

“Are either of you injured?” Ratchet inquired. “Do I need to prepare sickbay?”

Optimus looked doubtfully at the scout.

“Are you all right?” Optimus asked.

Bumblebee buzzed, giving him a thumbs-up.

“We are fine, Ratchet,” Optimus reported. “But we are not aware of Arcee’s conditi— augh!”

It hit him suddenly, forcefully, like a freight train. A sudden wave of fatigue, intense and aching, slammed into him, and for a minute, he could hardly breathe.

He fell to one knee. Alarmed, Bumblebee darted forward to help his leader, buzzing in concern.

“What is it?” Ratchet demanded. “What’s going on? Your vitals just dropped.”

Overwhelmed, Optimus closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together. He forced air into his vents and tried to figure out what was going on. Was he injured?

No. He did not feel any real pain. Just a horrible feeling of exhaustion, but it was everywhere. It ran deeper than his veins, almost made him lose consciousness — what was it?

He got to his feet shakily. Bumblebee was still beeping at him.

"I am fine,” Optimus said, trying to keep his voice level. “We must locate Arcee.”

“But why did you—”

“We will request a Groundbridge shortly, Ratchet.”

“What— no! don’t you dare hang up on me!”

Optimus hung up.

“Bumblebee, transform,” he ordered. “Follow the tracks.”

For a second, Bumblebee thought about asking Optimus what was going on, but his leader had a look in his eyes that the scout knew well.

It was best not to argue with Optimus when he looked like that.

Bumblebee transformed and sped off in the direction of Arcee’s tracks. He hoped she was okay. The last time Arcee met up with Airachnid, she had almost died. In fact, she would never have survived had it not been for Starscream.

The irony of that rescue never let go of Bumblebee. Imagine — you’re losing the battle with your archenemy, and then the most treacherous Decepticon in history picks that day to save you.

Probably just another one of Starscream’s bargaining chips. If that Decepticon ever needed anything from Ratchet or Optimus again, Bumblebee would bet good Shanix that Starscream would bring up Arcee’s rescue.

Well, Bumblebee thought, this time, we’re going to rescue her ourselves.

That’s what family was supposed to do.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Megatron walked slowly out onto the raging battlefield. Never had he seen such chaos on his own warship. The lasers of the Insecticons pummeled the metal all around him, blasting into Vehicons on his right and left. The valiant troopers who were making  a stand were cut down like paper in the face of the Insecticon brutes, and the beasts had not even landed on the ship yet. There seemed to be nothing that could stop them.

Nothing, that is, except for himself. Megatron had already bested an Insecticon once before, and he could do it again. Megatron would not be losing this warship today to either of the two rogue Decepticons with delusions of grandeur.

He lifted his fusion cannon and blasted an Insecticon out of the sky. Not many dared to cross him and lived to tell the story. These brutes would certainly be no exception.

And once this was all sorted out, both Starscream and Airachnid would pay.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Arcee trod stealthily through the underground cavern, her gun at the ready. From the looks of things, the Insecticons had been dormant underground for a long while. Hundreds and hundreds of reflective pods, not all of them empty, lined the walls in an eerie array of metal and mesh.

Airachnid had probably discovered them after her run-in with Starscream, and, as was the way of the Decepticons, she had probably used them to her advantage in her fight against Megatron. Everybody wanted to kill Megatron lately.

Arcee didn’t care. Megatron could slag himself for all the good it would do. Her fight was with Airachnid, and if killing her meant saving Megatron’s life in the process, then fine. Arcee had a score to settle with that eight-bladed harpy, and nothing was going to stop her this time.

This time, only one of them was going to walk away.

Her eyes shifted, catching a sudden movement. One of the pods had reflected something moving on the wall behind her.

Airachnid. Waiting to shoot her in the back.

Fragging glitch.

Arcee’s mouth twitched up in a snarl. Airachnid’s lasers erupted from behind, but the two-wheeler was ready. Acting quickly, she dove behind a stasis pod and crouched against it, readying her weapons as lasers peppered the rocks around her.

She had to be fast.

Wait … wait for it …

Now!

The instant Airachnid halted in her barrage, Arcee stood up from behind the pod and brought that spider down with a storm of precise, rapid-fire shots.

With a cry, Airachnid fell from the wall and crashed to the stone belly of the cavern, groaning as Arcee advanced upon her. But, as she looked upon the Autobot, the spider’s gaze was still filled with cruel spite, as if she genuinely enjoyed this.

“When you extinguish my Spark, make it hurt,” Airachnid hissed, a pained grimace spreading under her glowing eyes. “You know I would extend that courtesy to you.”

Arcee raised her guns away from Airachnid’s face.

“I’m not like you,” she said coldly.

Airachnid sneered. “Very well.”

She lunged at Arcee. The blue femme leaped out of the way just in time, narrowly evading the spider’s sharp claws and whipping out her arm blades. There had to be a better way to beat Airachnid. On the ground, she had a greater advantage than Arcee, if only because she had more limbs and more weapons at her disposal.

Arcee thought fast, glancing at an open and empty stasis pod behind Airachnid.

Maybe those extra limbs could be made to work against her.

Airachnid continued attacking the two-wheeler, slicing her spider legs through the air, and becoming more frustrated as each blow was deflected by Arcee’s blades, thwarting her victory every time.

Airachnid growled. Why wouldn’t she fall?!

Suddenly, Arcee spotted an opening in Airachnid’s assault. The trap was set. Arcee knew this was the moment. She had to act now, or else Airachnid would get away, free to live another day, and she would let Tailgate down again.

She would not let Tailgate down again!

Arcee lunged forward, delivering a forceful set of kicks to Airachnid’s torso. That drove the spider back, landing her almost within the stasis pad. Airachnid staggered into the circle, triggering the pod, and she gasped in terror as she realized what had happened. With a loud snikt, the pod clamped around the enraged femme, and one of her dismembered legs went spinning off into the dust, right in front of Arcee, who watched in silence as the pod activated.

This was it. This was the moment.

Airachnid struggled to free herself from the trap, but all in vain. That stasis pod was built to withstand the efforts of warrior-grade Insecticons.

With a hiss, the pod’s stasis mechanisms kicked in, and Airachnid was instantly frozen, her final look of horror etched permanently onto her face.

Arcee deactivated her weapons.

“That was for Tailgate,” she said, her hands clenching into fists. 

As Arcee stared at the stasis pod, a needling thought wormed its way into her brain. She could kill Airachnid right now. All it would take was a well-placed shot right into that spider’s head once the pod cracked open. She could watch her bleed out onto the rocks, making her suffer on this rustheap of a planet just as she had made Tailgate suffer.

But she seemed to hear Tailgate, as if in a distant memory, or a dream, saying, “Would I really want you to do that, ‘Cee?”

No. He probably wouldn’t. And neither would anyone else on her team.

Speaking of which…

“Ratchet, I need an assist,” she said into the commlink. “I’ve dispatched Airachnid.”

“In the permanent sense?”

“Not exactly. She’s been contained and needs transport.”

“Understood. Where are you?”

“I don’t really know. I’ll send you my coordinates,” she replied, tapping in the code.

“Are you injured?” Ratchet demanded.

“I’m fine. But I’ll need bigger hands if we’re gonna get Airachnid through the bridge safely.”

“Optimus and Bumblebee should be — Miko!” He cut himself off, addressing someone else. “Don’t you dare!”

“Awwgh, but Doc — !”

“Leave my tools alone!”

“Problems, Ratchet?” Arcee asked, biting back a smile.

“No.” She could practically hear the frown on his face. “When Optimus reaches you, he should be warned that I have a few choice words for him once he gets back to base.”

“Have you made contact with Bulkhead?” Arcee asked.

There was a pause.

“Not yet,” Ratchet replied finally. “His vitals are fine, but his comm isn’t responding. I don’t know where in Primus’ name he’s gone off to.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Megatron ceased firing as an unholy shriek went up from several of the Insecticons. They descended in droves and landed in a circle around him, gathering as thick as trees on the landing pad of the Nemesis.

Megatron kept his guard up, but they weren’t attacking. What kind of trickery was this?

Whatever the case, the gladiator was surrounded by enemies stacked fifty deep, and he knew that there would be no easy way out of this.

The Insecticon closest to him advanced forward. Megatron prepared to blast the horrid head from between the unsightly shoulders, but to his surprise, the Insecticon bowed to him, taking a knee on the dented metal of the ship.

The other Insecticons followed suit, kneeling before Megatron and saying in unison:

“Forgive us, one true lord and master.”

The warlord looked around. More than two hundred Insecticons now surrounded him on the ship’s surface. It would seem Airachnid was no longer in a position to control the army which now greeted him.

Megatron gestured around him with a sense of exasperated irony. “This day has certainly seen its share of thwarted intentions.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Bulkhead slammed open the hatch with his mace and dropped to the ground, looking furtively around him.

Bout slagging time I got outta those vents, he thought to himself. Where’d I come out?

Huh. He was in the power core; the room where the ship was fueled and the one place that held everything together.

It was a rather magnificent sight. A central power conduit, glowing with bright blue fuel, branched out into an array of pipes and tubes that sent Energon to every part of the ship. Long, spindly arms dangling from the ceiling methodically fed new cubes into the core, keeping the Nemesis in the air.

Looking at it all, Bulkhead had a Miko of an idea.

He formed his mace, staring down at the power core system. “One way or another, I’m gettin’ off this boat.”

With a shout, Bulkhead launched himself from the edge of the platform and dove toward the glowing core, his mace outstretched, slamming himself full force into the one thing holding the warship aloft.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The warship lurched as an ominous rumble groaned out from below, and Megatron felt the Nemesis shudder beneath his feet. The Insecticons clustered around him were instantly jolted as the entire craft began to tip to one side, sending everything into greater disarray than before.

With a snarl, Megatron turned around and glowered back at the ship. “Now what?!”

Many inconvenient things seemed to be happening today, and at this point, the warlord was fed up with it.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Drink this,” Ratchet directed, holding a tiny cup of water to Nova’s mouth.

Trembling, the half-spark opened her eyes.

“Why?” she croaked, staring listlessly at the liquid.

“It’s good for you,” he replied, trying to coax her to open her mouth. “Your body’s burning through a lot of energy, and it needs to stay hydrated.”

"I don't want to."

"It's just water. Drink it. Optimus will be back soon, and you need the strength to talk to him."

Her face pale, Nova opened her eyes and took a sip, grasping the cup with weak hands.

“Ugh,” she grimaced, pushing the cup away. “Not thirsty.”

“Do you want to get better or not?” Ratchet asked, typing into the computer with his free hand. 

Nova sighed a little and took another sip. 

“More,” Ratchet directed.

“Aw…”

“Drink all of it, Nova.”

Nova obeyed, whether out of her lack of resolve or her unwillingness to provoke the medic any further. Ratchet didn’t care which.

“Can’t pinpoint his coordinates…” Ratchet began to mutter to himself as he typed. “…Bulkhead managed to drop off the face of the fragging earth…”

Then the commlink beeped, startling the half-spark.

“Ratchet, we're ready for that Groundbridge."

Ratchet began inputting Arcee’s appropriate coordinates. “Is Optimus with you?”

“Yeah. Bee thinks something’s wrong with him.”

Ratchet pulled down the lever, a little too harshly. “Bumblebee may be right.”

“Something the matter, Doc?”

“Several things today,” he snapped. “How are you?”

Arcee sounded tired. “I’m fine. We’ll see you in a minute.”

“Yes, yes.”

Ratchet shut off the comms. Nova made a little noise from his hand.

“Old man!”

“Hm?”

“Did she kill that spider?”

Ratchet paused. The half-spark had been told about Arcee’s rivalry with Airachnid, and of the lengths the two-wheeler was willing to go to bring her partner’s murderer to justice. Recently, Arcee had discovered, through a rather unpleasant experience, that Starscream was responsible for the death of Cliffjumper.

In the weeks since then, the femme had not been doing well. She had spent more time than usual out on the cliff’s edge, talking to Cliffjumper’s shrine, and she walked around the base with a permanent frown behind her eyes. In this state, and given the opportunity to kill someone who had wronged her, Ratchet was not quite certain that the two-wheeler could contain her thirst for revenge.

“I don’t think so, Nova,” he said aloud. “But you don’t need to worry about that right now.”

“But you’re worried.”

Ignoring her, Ratchet punched in the last few numbers for the Groundbridge, and the green portal blossomed in the tunnel beside them.

He put Nova back down on the medibay slab and approached the couch, where Miko was flipping through TV channels.

“Stay away from Nova for now,” he instructed.

“Is Bulkhead coming?” Miko asked, jumping up from the chair in excitement. 

“No. The others are bringing Arcee back to base.” Ratchet pointed a finger at her. “Now, I want you to be absolutely quiet, understand? I’m dealing with a lot today, and if Airachnid’s alive and sees you walking around, I don’t want to add a dead human to the mix.”

“Airachnid’s coming here?!” Miko asked. “Wow!”

“Not ‘wow,’” Ratchet said sternly. “In fact, it’s the opposite of wow.”

“I’ll get to see her nemesis again!” Miko said excitedly. “I can’t wait to smack her stupid spider face!”

Ratchet stared at her for a second.

“You know what, Miko?” he said decisively. “I’m sending you home right now. It’s a bad idea for you to be around today.”

“No, please!” Miko begged. “Let me stay! I wanna watch!”

“Absolutely not. You are much too bored to make rational decisions.” Ratchet turned to the computer and pulled down the lever. “Arcee, I’m going to have to hold off on the Groundbridge for a minute. I’ve got to send someone home first.”

“Copy that.”

“Awgh!” Miko growled. “You never let me do anything!”

"We can have this conversation once you’re a mature adult,” Ratchet said, punching in the coordinates to her host parents’ house. “I will contact you when Bulkhead returns.”

Miko grumbled and dragged her feet all the way down the stairs, and she grumbled and dragged her feet as Ratchet pushed her into the Groundbridge, and the medic was willing to bet that she was grumbling and dragging her feet out the other side, but he didn’t really care at the moment.

He shut off the Groundbridge and, with a sigh, punched in Arcee’s coordinates again.

“Gonna send me home, old man?” Nova asked weakly from the couch.

“Funny,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

Ratchet yanked down the lever for the Groundbridge again. Everything was going wrong today.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Why was everything going wrong today?

Megatron marched down the hall, heading for the navigational room just beside the bridge. Well, he tried to march; his movements were more akin to stumbling. It was hard to keep his balance with the ship rocking this way and that, careening inexorably toward the ground.

The Insecticons, like panicked roaches, had muscled their way inside the ship at the first sign of trouble, terrifying the first Vehicons they saw and making Megatron’s reentry into the ship a huge slagging ordeal. A sudden increase in troops — burly, stubborn, dimwitted troops — came with scores of problems he did not want to deal with right now.

Soundwave would not have stood for this.

He stabbed the button next to the nav bay door, bracing himself against the frame, and it slid open (at least the doors were working right). The two poor Vehicons inside — both grounders — struggled to stay at their posts, swaying with the ship. One of them was curled over his computer console, either terribly afraid or terribly airsick.

“My liege, our power core has been compromised,” the other Vehicon informed him, making a brave effort to stand straight.

That was bad. Direct damage to the power core meant that no matter how much they tried to stabilize the engines, it was already too late. The ship was lost.

“Prepare for landing,” Megatron ordered, his voice remarkably calm. Soundwave would be so proud of him. He had not killed anyone today.

Well, actually, he had killed people today, but they had all deserved it.

And if he ever laid eyes on Starscream again — which was almost absolutely certain to happen, since the mech refused to die — he would rip the little traitor’s Spark from his chassis.

“Attention, all crew members,” a Vehicon announced over the intercom. “This is not a drill. Man your emergency stations. Lock down munitions and fuel reserves, and prepare for immediate landing.”

Well, at least he had been able to shoot Starscream today. More than once! That had been great fun.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The entire ship was out of control. Bulkhead staggered through the halls, trying to avoid Vehicons, and stumbled toward the sight of broad daylight. He was on the landing pad. How he was going to get off without dying or being spotted, he had no idea.

A familiar, screeching voice shrieked out from behind him.

“Out of my way!”

Starscream?

Bulkhead watched, gaping, as the same Seeker he had just killed darted out in front of him, transformed, and shot off into the sky.

How the frag…?

But, as crazy and messed up as that was, Bulkhead knew he had bigger problems — like getting off this ship alive without a flight-based alt mode.

I could always jump, he thought to himself, looking over the edge. The dark, dust-colored clouds stretched above him forever and ever, a wide, rolling field of black and brown. The ground glared back at him pointedly, coming closer much faster than he would like. A huge column of smoke billowed out the wrong end of the Nemesis, leaving a dark trail in the sky that was probably impressive from a distance.

Any other time, Bulkhead would be proud of how he had slagged the warship all by himself, but right now, he was kind of worried he may have made the wrong decision.

I hope Jackie takes care of Miko, he thought to himself.

The ship rocked with another internal explosion, pitching Bulkhead head over heels. The wind whistled around him as he staggered forward and approached the edge. The ground was very close, now. The jagged metal around him shrieked in the wind, subjected to a kind of speed it had not felt in a long while. The ground raced along underneath the bowels of the ship, rushing ever closer.

Bulkhead slammed his fists into the metal in the floor of the landing pad, and braced himself. Alarms blared. Wind screeched. The Nemesis rumbled. They were about to hit —

The jarring suddenness of the impact nearly launched Bulkhead off of the Nemesis. How he managed the strength to hang on, he never understood.

Metal screeched wildly.

The smell of coolant and fuel and thick smoke hit him like a wave. Flurries of rock and earth and stone flew up in sheets as the Nemesis was driven into the soft earth of the organic planet.

Bulkhead was knocked into the surface of the ship several times, the sounds of his own tumbling metal drowned out by the groaning of the ship as it rushed and rushed, and finally skidded to a stop, teetering precariously over the edge of an enormous cliff.

The silence after the crash was piercing; overwhelming. Nothing moved, nothing stirred, except for one rather relieved Wrecker.

Bulkhead had kept his wits about him, and once he was sure he still had all his limbs, he leaped over the edge of the ship and tumbled into alt-mode, driving down one of the formerly-intimidating prongs adorning the front and racing off the Nemesis, heading directly back where he thought home was. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, making the shaken mech laugh a little, relieved at the fact he was most definitely still alive.

Well, that certainly ain’t the first crash I’ve survived. I can’t wait to tell Miko!

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Stasis,” Ratchet muttered, leaning on the edge of the Insecticon pod and glaring at the femme inside. “She deserves worse.”

“I intended worse,” Arcee said angrily. “More times than you know.”

Optimus approached them from behind.

“You are stronger for the choice you made,” he said to Arcee, quietly affirming her decision. She had had a hard enough time lately without being criticized for this latest confrontation with her past.

Sudden honking blared from the entrance tunnel, heralding the rather speedy arrival of Bulkhead, who transformed and staggered into the base with an excited grin on his face.

“Guys, you are not gonna believe the day I had!” he announced, in the manner of someone who has a story to tell that’s ready to burst out of them.

But he fell silent when he caught sight of the stasis pod, and who was inside, and the expressions of the three Autobots clustered around it — weary Autobots, ready for the next awful thing this day was going to throw at them.

“Oh, you too, huh?” he said sympathetically, looking around at all of them.

“Where were you?” Ratchet asked. “I’ve been trying to locate your signal all day.”

“That’s the crazy thing; I got stuck on the Con’s warship!” Bulkhead replied, launching into his story. “There was this spike of energy I was gonna investigate, but then I found out it was a mining haul. I fell and hit my head, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the storage room—” he cut himself off, waving his arm. “Where’re the kids? Where’s Miko? I gotta tell her.”

“The other children are busy, and I sent Miko home ten minutes ago,” Ratchet said, putting his hands on his hips. “Did you say you hit your head? I’ll have to do a scan; sit down.”

“I’m fine, Doc,” Bulkhead waved him off. “Where’s Bee?”

"Looking after our other little patient,” Ratchet replied. “Which reminds me — Optimus, I want you to go sit back there and wait for me until I come in to give you a full inspection. Send Bumblebee out for a diagnostic.”

“Ratchet—”

“Now.”

With a nod, Optimus turned and made his way back to the medical bay, while Ratchet sat Bulkhead and Arcee down for diagnostics.

“Just as I thought,” he muttered, running the scanner over Bulkhead. “You’ve gone and gotten yourself a concussion. And where did these gashes come from?”

“That’s a crazy story,” Bulkhead said excitedly. “You’ll never guess who I found sneaking around on board the warship.”

“No, I can probably guess,” Arcee said, peering sideways at the wounds.

“It was Starscream,” he said. “I think he was trying to off Megatron or something—”

“So what else is new?” asked the medic.

Arcee was clenching her fists on her legs.

“No, no, that isn’t the crazy part,” Bulkhead continued. “After I killed him, he came back again and—”

“You killed Starscream?!” Arcee demanded, shocked.

“Well, no… not really,” replied the Wrecker. “Lemme tell the story, you guys!”

“You can talk while I finish repairing you,” Ratchet said.

“How was your day, anyhow?” Bulkhead asked, noticing the frown etched into the medic’s face.

“Tough,” Ratchet replied. “It was a tough day to get through, Bulkhead, and it’s not over yet."

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Bumblebee looked up as Optimus walked into the medibay. He buzzed a greeting, his door-wings bobbing cheerily in response to his leader’s arrival.

Optimus seemed … a little off. In fact, he had been acting strange all day, ever since they had been deployed on the mission. Maybe, now that he was back at the base, back with Nova, he would feel better.

Bee buzzed an inquiry. “You okay?”

Optimus sat down, a little too clumsily, and sighed.

“I am fine,” he said. “Ratchet asked to see you, Bumblebee. He needs to clear you for repairs.”

Groaning a little, Bumblebee reluctantly got to his feet and shuffled out of the medibay. Getting cleared by Ratchet was everyone’s least favorite part of the day, just because it took so long, and usually the Fenderbender was involved. But, like many unpleasant things in life, it had to be done — and sooner was better than later.

The scout took a moment to look back at Optimus. He was sitting by the medical bed, looking steadily at the little red-faced figure bundled in a blanket atop it. Bumblebee was willing to bet that whatever was bothering the Prime had something to do with Nova.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Optimus looked up suddenly, as though roused from slumber.

“Yes. Thank you for your concern,” he said, giving the scout a small smile.

With a shrug, Bumblebee turned and left. Ratchet didn’t exercise much patience when diagnostics were involved. 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Starscream heard the distant sound of his own jet engines long before the Seeker outside came into view. He stood inside the Harbinger, his hands folded behind his back, glowering quietly at the wall.

He was thoroughly, properly, utterly ticked off.

Binary bonding. Officially the last thing Starscream wanted to partake in again.

Ever since he had sent out the clones to terminate Megatron, he had felt them die, excruciatingly — no less than three times over — and he was almost certain their mission had failed spectacularly. Here he was, grounded, practically helpless, unable to taste the clouds or soar in the heavens on his own, forced to bear the pain of those worthless shells. He had given up his precious fuel and Energon to give them life, and in return, he had been paying for their mistakes the entire day.

Starscream’s rising ire brought a crooked scowl to his face.

If you wanted something done right, well, apparently you had to do it yourself.

Luckily, he had had all day alone to plot revenge. He had had more than enough time to think about exactly what he was going to do to those clones if they ever showed their faces again.

Although right now it sounded like there was only one left.

Fine. He was almost happy that the others had been terminated by Megatron — that they had met a humiliating, dishonorable death at the hands of his hated enemy. It was a fitting return for their incompetence.

He heard the antiquated door slide open behind him, but Starscream, in true Starscream fashion, kept his back turned and his hands folded behind him.

Was turning your back on an enemy dangerous?

Only if you were afraid that your opponent could win; and at that moment, Starscream was much too angry to be afraid of anything. The fact that this was probably the same exact stance and manner in which his clone had confronted Megatron only made the irony even sweeter.

“Lord Starscream,” the clone began, his footsteps clanking softly as he approached him from behind. “Your most loyal servant has returned.”

Starscream could practically smell the treachery radiating off of his ‘most loyal servant.’ Did that worthless copy seriously take him for such a colossal fool?

“But I regret to inform you that our collective mission has failed,” the clone continued, with just the right amount of remorse in his voice. The clone was an excellent liar. Certainly one of the best.

But not the best.

Starscream was the best, and he knew what was about to happen in this game. He had invented it, for Primus’ sake.

“Hm, yes. I got that sense,” he said aloud. He could tell the clone was raising his arm, bringing his missile to bear on his creator, readying himself to shoot him in the back.

“Something to do with — a throbbing ache in my side!”

Starscream spun around before the clone could fire, and launched a missile directly into that pretender’s chest. The rocket exploded on contact with the living metal, bursting into a thunderous plume of sparks and smoke.

And it hurt. A lot.

But again, Starscream was far too angry to let that stop him. He advanced towards the downed Seeker, despite the crippling pain shooting through his chest, and placed a foot on its chassis, preventing the clone from rising.

Oh, that pathetic replica would never be rising again. There was no doubt about that.

The clone looked up at him through astonished, flickering eyes. It struggled to speak.

“You … knew I would attempt to terminate you?” it asked, choking out a final question.

Starscream could not help the grunt of pain that escaped his vocalizer, or the reflexive way he clutched at his throbbing chassis, but nevertheless, he stood imperiously over this vile copy which had dared to defy him.

“I feel your pain,” Starscream hissed, leveling his final missile directly at the clone’s Spark chamber. “Really, I do.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he fired the fatal shot. The world went black, the pain knocking his optics offline for a horrible moment as he screamed in agony.

“AUGH! Scrap, that hurt!”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“All right, Optimus,” Ratchet said, leaning against the nearest wall and looking the Prime in the eye. “How are you holding up?”

“I am fine, old friend.”

“Tell me the truth, or I will bring out the wrench,” Ratchet said in a clipped voice. “I don’t have time for your self-denial today.”

Optimus was silent for a moment.

“I feel … fatigued,” he admitted eventually. “I am not certain why.”

Ratchet unfolded his arms. “I’ll tell you why.”

He walked over to the table, and pulled up a screen diagram of the half-spark’s body. Along the spine of Nova's skeleton sprawled a myriad of angry red lines, outlining inflamed areas.

“I’ve been running diagnostics on her all day, and I think I’ve figured out the problem,” Ratchet said, typing in a few figures.

“Will she recover?” Optimus asked. “Do we need to call June?”

“I am not calling June,” Ratchet said sharply. “Earlier, Nova was so delirious that she almost killed Miko. If she wakes up, alone, in a human hospital, she might cause an international crisis in her attempt to escape.”

Optimus hesitated. “Is it fatal?”

“No, no, I don’t think so.” Ratchet replied. “To put it simply; I think Nova is going through growing pains.”

“Growing pains?”

“Yes. Her body is … how can I say this?” Ratchet thought for a moment. “Her body is still unused to living in a hybrid state. Part of her still treats Energon as a foreign substance, and tries to expel it. Her organic half is constantly fighting with her stronger half, both parts of her trying to win out. Every once in a while, her Cybertronian side wins out, and she loses a little more control of the Cybermatter armor in her back.”

He pointed to the red areas on the diagram. “It will probably only get harder for her to remove her plating from now on.”

Optimus looked down at the half-spark. “Is there any cure?”

“No. We can only help her feel comfortable until it passes.” Ratchet paused for a moment. “Our half-spark is … still young. Becoming a cyborg is not easy by any means. It takes time, and MECH didn’t give her any.”

Optimus bowed his head a little, staring at his hands. “But why can I still feel her pain?”

“That’s because of something else I found out today,” Ratchet said, turning from his computer to look at the Prime. “She’s binary bonded to you, Optimus.”

Optimus’ eyes went wide.

“What?”

“I was blind not to see it before,” Ratchet continued, putting his hands on his hips. “Mutual pain sensations; intense reactions to trauma; excessive nightmares? All signs of a shared connection between fused Sparks. The fact that Nova was exposed to the energy of the Matrix intensifies things for both of you. And, as you suspected, that allowed her to sense Unicron’s uprising before it happened.”

“But … she is a human,” Optimus said, his voice hollow. “How is that possible?”

“It isn’t,” replied the medic. “Or it shouldn’t be. But Nova isn’t really human anymore. In fact, I have doubts that she ever was.”

After he had finished, a silence descended on the medibay. The quiet chatter of the other Autobots permeated the room from outside, but Optimus said nothing, staring fixedly at the half-spark. 

“What does that mean, Ratchet?” he asked finally, collecting himself.

“It means that you two have been shuffling pain back and forth, to try and keep the other from suffering. If one of you is severely injured, well…” he shrugged. “It might be too much for the other to bear.”

“Is there any way to stop this, old friend?”

“Well, I can’t sever the bond,” Ratchet responded. “That would damage you both. But there may be a way I can reroute it.”

Optimus looked up at him, his round eyes following the medic’s movements as he began to bustle around the medibay.

“Based on your specific CNA signatures and the Matrix’s frequency, I think I can make a neural inhibitor to help you two ‘hide’ the bond from one another,” he said. “By sending the signals between your Sparks along a different route, all but the most extraordinary pain will be diffused into your neural net, alerting you instead of debilitating you. A less severe alarm system, if you will.”

Optimus was silent for a minute, glancing down at the half-spark.

“What must I do?” he asked finally.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Ratchet responded. “I want you to sit with her while I prepare the inhibitor.”

He looked at Nova, and suddenly realized how tired he was. He also realized it probably wasn’t his own exhaustion.

“Very well,” he said, leaning back a little as he looked at the girl. This day had made him realize, not for the first time, how it would feel to lose her, and he never wanted it to happen again. He would be there to watch over her when she was in trouble, he would be there to greet her when she woke up, and he would be there to protect her — always — as long as he lived.

But he was very tired.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Ratchet came back a few minutes later to the sight of a girl, curled up on the medibay table under a warm blanket, and her nearby guardian, his arms folded and his head bowed in slumber. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, his normally upright posture was slackened by fatigue. His face, normally held in a rigid frame of stoic calm, was softer now.

At that moment, Optimus looked less like the leader of the Autobots and much more like Orion Pax. 

Ratchet didn't see that often anymore.

With a quiet snort, the medic gathered up his supplies, turned off the lights, and left the medibay, leaving them to rest while he continued his work elsewhere.

Anybody who woke them up would most certainly be wrenched. 

Chapter Text

                                            You represent the future of bio-technology…

This is my good friend, Megatronus.

                                                                   I’m Nova. 

                                                    My name is Orion Pax.

                                     You belong to MECH.

You are Optimus Prime now …

            What do you want?

Megatronus is dangerous, Orion. All he wants is power.

                            I refuse to believe that.

                                                                         Where’s Coby? 

                                                                                Where’s my brother?

Elita? Where are you?!

    Elita!

             ELITA!

                                                                      … I — I did this … 

                                                  I should have been there to protect you.

                                              … my fault…

                                                        It’s all my fault…

                                 I cannot let this happen…

                         Don’t leave me … 

You better not leave …

                                 You’re soft!

             You didn’t pound Megatron into scrap when you had the chance!

Who am I?

                                                 What's your name?

                                       You know my name...

           You’re the Prime! You are the last of Cybertron’s greatest leaders!

I don’t know who I am.

           Are you … certain I am worthy?

                                                    Why am I here?

I have to remember …

                                      There is more to her than we know.

                                          You have said that about someone else before...   

Don't forget who we are!       

                                                Someone who was given too many chances.   

                It was just a dream...

   No. It wasn't.

                                                                                                          … Megatron …

                                                                             What have you done?

                                                                                                                       Sis …you gotta beat 'em for me…

                                                   A monster. That's what I was made to be.

                                                            Enough!

                                               Who am I…?

You belong here. 

                         …Don't leave me…

Do not be afraid.

The two of them snapped out of sleep at the same time, eyes wide, staring at each other. Nova was shaking.

“Well, I see you’re both finally awake,” Ratchet said gruffly, making them both jump. He held a scanner in his hand. "I think that went better than expected."

“What was that?” Optimus and Nova demanded at the same time.

They glanced at each other.

“Exposure,” Ratchet replied succinctly. “Exposure to one another’s minds, which you had to become acclimated to on the spot. Sorry if it was … difficult to adjust.”

“I — I saw inside his head!” Nova cried, pointing to Optimus. “I saw his thoughts, like — like they were mine, or something. What was that?”

“A neural-binary bond,” he said. 

Optimus was still blinking.

"What?" Nova demanded. "What's going on?"

"Calm down," Ratchet said. 

"I can't!"

Optimus repeated Ratchet's order. "It is all right, Nova. Calm yourself."

Nova took a frustrated breath, glaring up at the medic.

"Do you still feel sick?" Ratchet asked the half-spark.

"I never get sick," Nova bit out. 

"Then the sedatives worked, at least," he said, putting the information into the computer. "I'm sure you have … questions."

"What's happening to me, old man?" Nova cried. “What did you—”

Cutting herself off, Nova lifted a hand to the back of her head, gasping as she touched a mysterious new divot at the base of her skull. "What's this on my neck?!"

"An inhibitor."

“What?” Nova jumped to her feet, trembling with rage. “You put something in my head?!”

“It’s all right,” Ratchet said, “It will not hurt you. It’s meant to make things easier—”

"What things?” Nova demanded, drawing her weapons. “What's going on?"

“Nova,” Optimus said, drawing her back to her senses. “Remain calm.”

Dragging a deeper breath through her teeth, Nova sat down once again and lowered her head, her blades still extended. They would probably be stuck that way for a while. 

"There is something you should know," the medic said gently. “First of all, your Spark is no longer your own. You are binary bonded to Optimus, and you're going to have to get used to that."

Slowly, Nova shook her head. "What?"

“Binary bonding is a symbiotic connection between two or more people," he replied. “It involves a link between Sparks which share genetic information, and one of the side effects is that each member can feel the other’s pain. That’s why you kept feeling phantom sensations when Optimus was hurt. Do you follow me so far?”

Her jaw slack, Nova huffed in disbelief and shook her head again. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not,” Ratchet said, speaking to Nova. “Binary bonds are not uncommon on Cybertron. But you and Optimus seem to have a rather unusual bond, for two reasons.”

He counted on his fingers. “One, in all my years of medical expertise, I have never seen a Cybertronian bonded with an organic lifeform. This could cause some balancing complications, but you two seem to be adjusting fairly well so far. Two; I believe your bond was initiated by an unusual third party.”

“What third party?” Nova asked. 

“You were able to sense Unicron’s awakening before it even happened,” the medic replied. “At the time, you had no idea he existed; you didn’t even know about our prophecy concerning the event. But the Matrix did.”

Ratchet allowed his words to sink in for a moment. “As Optimus hypothesized, your exposure to the wisdom of Primus allowed you to detect his approaching enemy as a sort of defense mechanism.” 

“I don’t understand,” Nova growled, her leg bouncing on the edge of the table. “I just felt it when Optimus got hurt; I never sensed his thoughts before.”

“And that brings me to the topic of my handiwork,” Ratchet said proudly. “I managed to reverse-engineer certain aspects of the Spark Extractor to create a device which will eliminate those physical sensations entirely. Now, the bond is focused solely on neural signals passed between you and Optimus, which will be much easier on the two of you.”

There was a silence as the two of them took it in. 

“So,” Optimus ventured at last. “She will no longer feel my pain?”

“Not in a physical sense, no.” 

“Okay…” Nova murmured, swallowing. “Will I get stuck in his brain like that all the time?”

“That is something I haven’t tested yet,” Ratchet replied. “Can you see his thoughts now?”

Nova shook her head. “Not really... but my brain feels so crowded… and my head hurts again.”

“You will likely be alerted to sudden emotional changes,” Ratchet affirmed, nodding a little. “It’s bound to be uncomfortable, but I imagine it’s better than feeling like you were stabbed.”

Nova stared down at her blades, extending from the undersides of her wrists like cruel teeth, and wondered if he was right. She knew from experience that mental pain could sometimes be just as debilitating as physical pain.

A dark feeling had slowly crept into her as the medic spoke, closing its cold jaws around her heart, and slowly the half-spark began to recognize the familiar caresses of fear as a single, terrifying thought drifted across her mind.

Optimus can see everything. 

The next instant, the half-spark cringed with guilt. She knew that should not have been a frightening thing. Optimus was trustworthy, she told herself. More than that, he cared for her — surely she didn’t have to hide anything from him.

But the half-spark could not deny the boiling panic in her heart. Every strangled vulnerability; every hidden scar, every wound she pressed close; everything she had struggled for so long to keep under wraps — he would see it all. 

And she would have no choice but to suffer his judgment. 

“One thing you both should remember in case of a battle,” Ratchet continued, interrupting her thoughts. “My inhibitor can only take so much. Once you exceed a certain pain threshold, the stimulation will spill over and affect you physically just as it did before.” 

He folded his arms. “So try to avoid any lethal injuries, hm?”

Overwhelmed, Nova closed her eyes, pressing her head between her encumbered wrists.

Ratchet opened his mouth to say something else, but Optimus gave him a stern look. 

At his unspoken command, the medic let out his breath in a sigh, changing the subject. 

“The Decepticon warship is down, Optimus,” he said quietly. “I am aware the two of you are not in the best shape at the moment, but you know as well as I do that this may be our only chance to put a stop to Megatron and his army.”

Optimus thought for a minute, and deep sorrow began to creep into his eyes.  

“I see,” he said aloud. From his experience in reading the tells of the Autobot leader, Ratchet understood that Optimus had already made his decision, though the utter distaste showed in his eyes.

“Could I speak with Nova?” the Prime asked. “Alone?”

Ratchet sighed. “Of course. But remember; your mind has eons’ worth of memories in its drives. She only has seventeen years or so. I don’t really know what the influx of information will do to her, so … try to take it slow.”

Optimus nodded. “Understood.”

They did not move or speak until Ratchet had left.

Optimus tried to prepare himself, but he had no idea what was happening. He had never been binary bonded with someone before. Ratchet had warned him it would probably be overwhelming, but neither of them had any idea what a grown Cybertronian mind would do to a young human one.

Optimus could only hope it would not be too hard for her. 

They sat in silence for a moment, Nova clutching her aching head with her eyes closed.

"Stop," she said finally, clenching her fists. 

"What?" Optimus asked. 

“Thinking,” she said through gritted teeth. "It hurts."

Optimus looked down at her. “I thought my mind was hidden from you.”

"It is,” she said. "But I can still tell you're sad, and it stings. It hurts you."

Optimus frowned, attempting to calm himself. It did hurt him. Even after all this time, he still carried the weight of Megatron’s betrayal on his shoulders. Even now, the thought of killing his old friend made the Prime falter. He gritted his teeth. 

Nova let out a cry. "Oh! Stop it stop it stop it!"

Her panic slammed into him like a wave. That was not helping. Quickly, Optimus tried to think about something -- anything besides Megatron. She couldn't know how much of a burden it was... how much she reminded him of the warlord.

There was a very thin barrier protecting Nova from the immense weight on his Spark. He would not let that barrier break. 

His fists clenched. Nova groaned.

“Nova,” Optimus said evenly, forcing his voice to remain steady. “You’re fine.”

“I'm scared!”

"I know."

"I don't know what's happening to me!"

Taking in a breath, Optimus immediately let down his walls and sent all the reassurance he had in his Spark through their bond, stopping her mid-sentence with a rush of peace. 

"You will be all right," he said soothingly.

Nova was quiet, but he felt her unblocked mind responding to his emotional thermostat, lowering to a simmer of what it had been before. 

She was so very little, and yet he felt everything in her Spark crashing into him with as much living potency as his own thoughts.

How could someone so small feel so much?

“You’re good at hiding it,” she murmured at last. 

He looked at her. "What?"

"You're good at keeping all this inside," she said softly. "I didn't know you felt so much."

Optimus sighed a little. “I … suppose it must be a shock.”

“You do that on purpose,” she remarked. "You hold it together so we don't have to."

Optimus stammered. “I - I am not sure I--"

"Everyone else is allowed to be afraid," she interrupted, "Or angry, or sad, or lonely. Because you never are.”

Sighing, he replied with a soft, "Yes."

“Is it hard?”

He looked down at her. “Always.”

Another silence fell on the medibay, only broken every so often by the shifting of Optimus' plates as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Nova's sadness still stung him, and he was struggling to keep himself from returning in kind. She did not know. She could not know. 

“Did you … see me?” Nova asked. “When we were…”

Optimus glanced down at her. She was shaking, trying to bury her face in her arms despite her drawn swords. Through their bond, he could feel her trying to shrink away from him, her mind lashing out in red-hot panic and shame. 

“It seems I am not the only one who hides things from others,” he said aloud. 

Nova’s body tightened even further, and she burrowed into her elbows with a sob. 

“You did, didn’t you?” she whispered. “You saw all of it…”

“Nova,” Optimus interrupted. “This changes nothing.”

She stilled, raising her head a little. “It doesn’t?”

“I promised to care for you as long as it was within my power,” he replied, looking down at her. “I understand your reluctance to be so vulnerable, but no matter what occurs between our minds, you do not need to fear me. I will not abandon you.”

Finally, Nova met his eyes. He could feel a tiny gleam of hope in her soul as she looked up at him. Slowly, her swords retracted and disappeared, and the armor around her wrists began to collapse, just a little.

“You won’t?" she asked. "Even after you saw all that?”

Optimus frowned a little, attempting to rein in his hurtling sorrow before it hit her. “I … have seen worse.”

The half-spark stared at him, and for a moment Optimus feared that he had failed to suppress his emotional surge. For a moment, he wondered if she had seen…

“Something really bad happened to her, huh?” Nova murmured. "Elita One?"

Optimus stilled. She had seen it. 

“It … still hurts?”

He closed his eyes, refusing to let his emotions touch her. He couldn't. He couldn't do that to her. 

"Not ... as severely as it used to," he answered finally, with a sigh.

But what would happen if it did hurt again? What would happen if it hurt so much he couldn't contain it?

This was immensely difficult; trying to be calm enough for two people. 

“Well then, maybe…” Nova began, clutching her knees a little tighter. “Maybe this doesn’t have to be bad?”

It was phrased like a statement, but her voice held a quavering question; a venture out of her usual armor-clad comfort zone. 

“What do you mean?” Optimus asked. 

“Well, I was just thinking…” she squirmed a little. “Maybe I could be helpful? Maybe you … don’t have to carry it by yourself anymore.”

He felt the little glimmer of hope extend itself again, reaching out for him like a desperate, quiet plea. 

Let me in?

Nova's scattered emotions still danced around in his mind; colorful little additions he never knew could be so heavy. Already, she was beginning to steady herself, adjusting to the new bond and reining in her frantic thoughts.

Her emotions were a sharp yet beautiful reminder of just how much like a Cybertronian she had become. Like them, she had a living, electric soul — something beyond circuits and wires, or flesh and blood. 

Indeed, she reminded him of Megatron more and more every day. Her fiery temper, her ability to adapt, her desire to be with him always... it was far too familiar. 

She can never know.

And Optimus was also reminded of something he tended to forget even in his most fatherly moments — Nova was still a child. She had to be treated gently; for she had no idea what horrors he had lived through. To unleash them upon her all at once might possibly destroy her mind. 

He took in a breath. “Nova, I..."

In an instant, she seemed to sense his reluctance, and the armor snapped over her hands again as she rushed to take back her words. "Never mind. I'm sorry. It's stupid."

"Nova—“

“I said forget it.”

“But—”

“Look, don't we have Decepticons to kill?” Nova snapped, her side of the bond flaring in anger.

How similar they are, the Prime thought ruefully. No. I must not think of such things. It would destroy her.

"Very well." Optimus got to his feet, extending a hand to her. 

Reluctantly, Nova shoved herself off the table and hopped into his waiting palm as he deposited her on his shoulder. 

Her thoughts might have been unreadable to him, but he could still feel their needlelike sting, and he resigned himself to the fact that this would be a challenge to get used to.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“But when the Insecticons suddenly backed off, I got inspired by my proximity to the power core,” Bulkhead said, regaling the tale of his recent actions with some excitement. “And did what I do best.”

He slammed his fists together, to the delight of Miko, who was listening to him in awe with Fowler and the other children.

“You trashed their ride like a rockstar in a hotel room,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air.

Optimus approached the group with Nova perched on his shoulder.

“We should hit the Cons right now, while they’re vulnerable,” Arcee said, clenching her fist.

“Megatron’s warship may be grounded,” Ratchet added, putting his hands on his hips, “But let’s not forget that we remain vastly outnumbered, especially since he has added the Insecticon hive to his ranks.”

“Then maybe it’s time I called in an air strike,” Fowler offered.

“Or for us to consider more extreme measures, Agent Fowler,” Optimus rejoined.

Nova, listening to this exchange, felt a sudden heavy feeling from her guardian as he spoke. It felt like a bogging weight on her Spark, cold and filled with sharp finality. Optimus had just made what he thought was a necessary but terrible decision, and he was not happy about it.

Minutes later, she, Optimus, and Ratchet stood before the little storage room that held the Spark Extractor on a humble pedestal, shining in the glare of the light.

The half-spark growled. The awful idea that that quiet, unassuming thing could suck her heart out at a moment’s notice made her bristle in fear, tightening her armor around herself even though she knew it would do nothing to help. 

Optimus glanced down at her, and Nova stifled her apprehension. He had to do what needed to be done. This wasn’t the time to delay.

“The Spark Extractor?” Ratchet inquired, his voice serious. “Optimus, are you certain you want to travel down this path?”

Optimus ducked his head and entered the storage room behind his old friend, staring at the Extractor.

“While I am deeply reluctant to deploy a weapon of this caliber, especially one forged by Decepticon hands—” Nova felt a twinge of disgust from him, “— This may be our only chance to end the war, once and for all.”

He's acting weird. she thought, eyeing him suspiciously. For once, he's making tactical sense.

Catching herself, she glanced up at the Prime, hoping that Optimus could not sense her doubt.

He could.

“This troubles you?” he asked, as Ratchet left to ready the team for departure.

“Not me,” Nova pointed out. “This is something I would do. But you haven't tried something like this since Raf got hurt.”

The memory of Megatron’s resurrection of Unicron, still fresh in their minds, made both sides of their bond flare in anger.

“I will not allow another human to be harmed on our account,” he said, staring at the relic. “If this is the means required to put an end to Megatron’s destruction, I must be willing to employ it.”

“Can I go with you?”

He looked down at her. “No.”

“Why not?”

“If something goes wrong, I do not want you to pay for my mistake,” he said firmly. “You will remain here.”

His voice was emphasized by a forbidding, unspoken strength from his side of the bond, almost like anger, but less frightening and far more insistent. Confronted with this, Nova closed her mouth and did not argue.

“Optimus!” Ratchet called, bringing the two of them out of the storage bay. “I’m detecting a massive spike of energy at the Decepticon crash site. It appears to be Dark Energon."

The team took in his words with sudden silence. If Megatron had used Dark Energon again, how could they be sure the Spark Extractor would work at all?

Nova watched as Ratchet readied the Groundbridge, which burst to life in the tunnel with the same old noise.

“Autobots,” Optimus said, in a voice that was far steadier than his turbulent mind, “Transform, and roll out.”

The others did as he said, entering the Groundbridge and disappearing in flashes of light. Nova watched them go with a heavy heart. She would not be joining them on this one.

But before the Prime could follow them through, Fowler spoke up.

“Hold on, Prime,” he said, approaching the railing.

Optimus stopped, and turned to him.

“If you are gonna deploy some kinda super weapon in a final showdown with the Cons; it’s my job as a representative of Planet Earth to bear witness,” Fowler insisted.

Optimus and Ratchet looked at each other. Then, the Prime looked at Nova.

“Will you provide protection to Agent Fowler?” he asked.

“Yes I will!” Nova cried. 

Miko groaned. “Must be fraggin’ nice.”

Fowler and Nova climbed into Optimus’ cab as he transformed, and the next thing the half-spark knew, they were driving through the swirling green vortex, on what surely must be the final day of the war.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Sweet Lady Liberty,” Fowler swore as he hopped out of Optimus’ vehicle mode and laid eyes upon the Decepticon warship.

It hovered in the air before them, a dark metal gash in the dull gray sky. 

Even damaged, the Nemesis was a forbidding sight. It bristled with weapons and armored spikes, ready to strike down cities at a moment’s notice. 

But every second was costly, and Nova knew that while the Decepticons had the air, they had the advantage. Soundwave was probably targeting them at that very moment.

Sure enough, within the blink of an eye the ship locked its weapons onto them before they could do anything. 

“Bumblebee, now!” Optimus said into the commlink.

Nova dragged Agent Fowler behind a rock as Bumblebee roared into sight, his wheels churning up dust as he raced for the warship. Red lasers peppered the ground and chased after Bumblebee’s taillights, stabbing pockmarks in the ground.

“Arcee, Bulkhead, draw their fire!” Optimus ordered, charging forward. The scattered fire from the warship was instantly focused on the group of three which branched off and rushed toward the Nemesis.

Behind their boulder, Nova peered out at the Autobots through her visor while Fowler raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes. Even from here, Nova could sense Optimus’ urgent determination as he gave directions to the little scout through the commlink.

“Once you launch the Spark Extractor, be sure to clear its radius before it can activate,” he said.

Bumblebee swerved slightly out of the way of incoming laser fire, and transformed, catching the Extractor and charging forward, his wing-doors bouncing as he ran. Nova watched him go. 

“You can do it, Bee,” she said under her breath. Optimus’ agitation bounced off of hers, creating a distinctly uncomfortable feedback of anguished worry which sent Nova’s heart spiraling in her chest. His whirling blend of dread and hope was an orchestra of tight strings and high flutes, balancing harmony and dissonance on a knife’s edge.

Fowler ’s binos were glued to his eyes now. This was it. This was the moment. 

His gaze fixed on the Nemesis, Bumblebee visibly gathered all his strength and jumped, ready to hurl the Spark Extractor at the warship, but before he could launch it from his hands, a beam of violet energy shot out of the Nemesis' cannons and slammed into his chest. 

A frantic cry was heard in the commlink, and then the scout lay still, frozen on the ground.

At the same time, Nova felt searing panic shoot into her Spark. 

It wasn’t hers.

“Bumblebee!” Optimus shouted into the commlink.

The Spark Extractor tumbled from the scout’s hands as he hit the ground, and rolled forward in the sand, gleaming slightly in the light of the lasers.

“Mine!” Arcee cried, scooping it up and sprinting for the warship. But she hadn’t made it thirty yards before the purple beam enveloped her little blue frame, bringing her down with a groan. 

Crippled by Optimus’ emotions, Nova clutched her head in her hands, trapped in a state of horrible shock as all their hopes came crashing down.

“What’s happening to them?!” Fowler demanded. “What is that thing?”

“I — I don’t know,” Nova growled, trying to think under the strain of Optimus’ alarm. 

Bulkhead made the next attempt, thundering toward the Extractor and seizing it in his burly hands, but he hadn’t taken a single step before he, too was frozen in place by the beam.

Nova gasped with the sudden weight of Optimus’ desperation, and finally fell to her knees. “Augh!”

“Kid! You okay?” Fowler asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

The lasers pounded into the ground all around Optimus. He was alone in the sand; the last one standing. His mind faltered for an instant; Nova felt his Spark drop for a microsecond as he saw his men lying still in the dust. 

But with a surge of defiant rage, Nova clenched her fists, determined not to hold him back. 

“Go!” she cried out, her heart speaking more loudly and urgently than her mouth ever could. “Go! You can do it!”

Spurred to action, Optimus charged through the lasers and managed to dodge the stasis beam, somersaulting out of the way just in time. Recovering, he made a beeline for Bulkhead and yanked the Spark Extractor from his grip. 

He ran, heading for the warship with the stasis beam right on his heels. One stride, two strides, three, and with a roar, he leapt into the air with the terrible weapon in his hands. 

Nova felt his mind erupt in a last, desperate burst of resolve; this was the moment the war would end. It didn’t matter if he died. All that mattered was that he could end it now, once and for all, if he could just make it far enough, if he could just win this final day —

But the stasis beam shot out of the warship with sudden and terrible accuracy, and blasted the Prime squarely in the chest.

A shot of anger, agony, horrible, crushing despair, digging and twisting like a cruel knife …

And Optimus dropped like a stone.

“No!” she screamed.

Fowler stared in disbelief through the binoculars.

Both humans looked up as the dark shadow of the warship crawled over them. The Nemesis loomed in the sky, poised to kill them both like a pair of wretched ants.

Nova stepped in front of Fowler with her guns raised, glaring up at the ship, as though daring them in all her weakness to do the deed. 

The weapons ratcheted forward, pointing directly at them. Her gritted teeth drew in a hiss. There was no way either of them would be able to survive this. They had really and truly lost the battle, and in so doing, they had lost everything. 

And the last thing I will ever feel is Optimus’ pain.

“So much for Christmas in Fiji,” Fowler said behind her.

Nova braced herself. If she was going to go out, it would not be a coward’s death. Her body quaked with fear, but she was determined to stand her ground until she was shot in the chest like everyone before her.

They waited, breath stilled, for the final blow — but the next second, the guns folded back into the ship, and the Nemesis let out a low groan as it began to turn away from them.

Nova let out all her breath at once, and her heart began to pound again, her body shaking with relief as life returned to her veins. 

“What was that?” Fowler asked in confusion. “Where’re they going?”

“I don’t know,” Nova huffed. “But I’m not complaining.”

They watched the ship veer to port and fly steadily away, heading in the opposite direction of the battle.

Fowler put a finger to his commlink. “Team’s down,” he said. “Requesting medivac.”

“Understood,” Ratchet replied.

Nova had already scrambled out from behind the rock and ran to Optimus, her feet pounding in the sand. Reaching his prone form, she sidestepped the Spark Extractor and knelt beside his head.

“Oh, no,” she murmured, placing a hand on his face.

His frozen eyes were wide open — staring at her. She didn’t think he was dead — surely, she would have felt it if he had died — but he was so terribly still; his frozen face a living snapshot of his final, desperate thoughts. She hated to see his eyes staring at her so pointedly, so wide and silent and surprised. It was like staring at Orion Pax all over again. 

She tried to sense his emotions on the other side of their bond, but it had all gone fuzzy, like static on an ancient television, and she was left in a strange, numbing limbo, reaching out for nothing at all.

“Optimus?” she ventured. 

He made no response.

“Come on, kid,” Fowler said, catching up to her. “The Doc sent the bridge. He’s gonna need our help.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

It took them a long time, but eventually, with Ratchet’s help and a lot of rollers, they managed to push or carry everyone through the Groundbridge. It took a bit of doing, but soon afterward they succeeded in standing everyone upright in the medibay, where Ratchet could easily scan their injuries onto the monitors. 

And finally, as the bridge closed behind her, Nova walked back into the base, lugging the Spark Extractor along beside her.

The foreign device was just as tall as she was, and much more menacing up close. 

This thing can destroy entire armies...

“I’ll take that,” Ratchet cut in, reaching down and plucking it from her hands. “Are you and Fowler all right?”

Optimus' static still filled her brain. “Mm.”

Ratchet stared at her. “Nova?”

“What? Um, yes, we’re fine,” she said, snapping out of her momentary trance and joining the children as they stared at their guardians from the ground.

“What happened out there?” Jack asked. “I didn’t know the Decepticons could do this.”

“Neither did I,” Nova agreed. 

“Are they dead?” Miko asked.

Ratchet finished up his scans and turned to the monitors, pressing a few buttons as he looked at Optimus’ schematics. Apart from some red areas which indicated strain from the fall, he looked to be in good health.

“They’re alive,” he said. “But I’ve never encountered this form of stasis lock.”

Fowler approached the railing, closest to Ratchet’s eye level.

“The Cons are crossing the Atlantic,” he said, reminding them of the bigger problem, “Making a beeline for North America.”

“Wait,” Jack cried. “We can track them?”

“Why aren’t they cloaked, like usual?” Raf asked.

“And why did they just fly away?" Nova said. “They should have killed us back there.”

“None of this makes a lick of sense,” agreed Fowler. “They had us in their crosshairs, but the Cons just took off.”

“They even bailed on that Spark Extractor thingy,” Miko said.

“Well, if the ship isn’t cloaked, maybe the communications relay’s open,” Jack suggested, looking up at Ratchet. “And—”

“Yip-ip-ip!" Ratchet interrupted crossly. "Are you suggesting that we just — call Megatron, and ask him what’s going on up there?” 

The kids shrugged.

Ratchet looked at Nova. Nova shrugged.

Ratchet turned to Fowler. Fowler shrugged.

"It's worth a shot," Miko pointed out. "Maybe Megatron's gone loco."

“Maybe someone on their team tried to take over,” Raf suggested.

"Maybe Starscream came back," Jack suggested. "And he's running amok."

Ratchet sighed. “Let’s just … call.”

The kids and Nova joined Fowler on the railing as Ratchet opened the communication channel.

“Autobot Outpost Omega One to Decepticon warship,” he said. “Megatron, please respond.”

There was no answer.

“Maybe he went to the bathroom?” Miko suggested.

“I didn’t expect the leader of the Decepticons to screen his calls,” Jack said.

“Maybe it’s Soundwave’s turn to be in charge,” Raf offered.

Ratchet tried again. “Megatron?”

A few more seconds of silence, and then someone -- someone who was definitely not Megatron -- answered.

“Megatron has been relieved of his command,” the gravelly, deep voice said. The ID picture next to the voiceprint showed only static.

“Who is this?” Ratchet demanded.

“Who is this?” the voice countered sassily.

“Have you taken control of the Decepticon vessel?” asked Ratchet.

“I am the vessel,” said the voice. “Any Cybertronian who interferes with my mission will be neutralized.”

Pictures transmitted from the warship flashed up onto the screen — pictures of Vehicons and Insecticons alike, frozen where they stood. Nova turned to look at Optimus, frozen just the same.

“What mission?” Ratchet asked.

“Priority one: Decrypt Iacon database and recover Decepticon technology.”

“For what purpose?”

Silence. Then, suddenly, the voice cut the call, and the static disappeared.

“It hung up?” Miko remarked, folding her arms. "Rude."

“Rude?!" Fowler cried. "There’s a giant spaceship flying around, collecting Decepticon weapons of mass destruction!” 

“Well, a giant spaceship filled with neutralized Decepticons,” Jack reminded them.

“Point?” Fowler demanded.

“This could be our only chance to slip aboard and download the Iacon database,” replied Jack.

“So Optimus can decode it,” Raf agreed.

“Ingenious,” Ratchet said, turning to them. “I will infiltrate the Decepticon warship.”

“Uh, not ingenious,” Jack responded. “You saw what it did to the Decepticons.”

Raf nodded. “And probably Megatron, too.”

“And Team Prime,” Miko reminded them.

Fowler grinned. “But that tub had me dead to rights, and I’m still breathing.”

“So am I,” Nova added.

“The ship may be blind to humans,” said Jack.

“So it wouldn't see us sneak on board,” Nova said, looking at the medic. “I think we should try.”

Ratchet considered for a moment.

“Very well, Agent Fowler,” he said. “But at the first sign of trouble, I am bridging you right back here.”

He took a small device out from a port in one of the monitors, handing it to Fowler. “Now, in order to download the database, you will need a compatible transfer drive.”

“A … what?” Fowler asked, taking the thing.

“He’ll also need tech support,” Raf smiled.

“And backup,” said Miko.

Nova crossed her arms, surveying the smaller humans critically. “And more backup.”

“Are you sure the ship will not detect you?” Ratchet asked looking down at the half-spark. “You’re partly Cybertronian, you know.”

“It didn’t fire on me before,” Nova shrugged. “I’ll take my armor off, just in case.”

He sighed. “Can you?”

Keeping her arms folded, Nova put on a bold smile. “Of course I can.”

“Show me.”

Nova gritted her teeth, biting back a growl. She had not fully removed her armor since her recent illness, and if she was being honest, she had no earthly idea whether she could take it off again. 

But this was not the time to be honest. This was the time to fight. 

She clenched her fists, tightening her muscles to trigger the removal of her armored shell, but it would not budge. 

With a soft breath, she drew herself to her full height and tried again, her arms trembling under the strain. Nova hissed as a sharp pain sent fire racing along her spine, but she did not cease her efforts, enduring the sting with clenched jaw until she managed to yank the armor back from her hands. Then her feet. 

Finally.  

Once she had started, it was a little easier to carry on. In a few seconds, she had managed to peel off all but the armor closest to the spinal rivets that poked out from beneath her skin.

“That was painful to watch,” Jack winced. “You okay?”

“I’m fine!” Nova insisted, wiping sweat from her face. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

With a sigh, Ratchet turned to the monitor. “I will ready the Groundbridge.”

As he typed in the proper coordinates, Nova leaped down from the stairs and ran for the Spark Extractor on the medical table, scrambling up to reach it as Ratchet realized her intentions. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded, snatching the heavy thing from her hands. “Give me that! This is a very dangerous weapon.”

“This is our chance to end the war,” Nova protested, reaching out for the device. “You know it will work!” 

“You want to bring this aboard the Decepticon warship and use it to suck the life out of them?” Ratchet cried. “Nova, we can’t do such a thing!” 

“Why not?” Nova cried. “We should be using this to our advantage! Our enemies are all gathered in one place, and we know where they are!”

“They are paralyzed, Nova,” chastised Ratchet, a little more softly. “We must act with morality—“

“What does morality matter?” she demanded. “Optimus was going to use this thing a few minutes ago!”

“He did not know their entire army was frozen in stasis,” Ratchet replied sternly. “Unlike Silas, Optimus would never take the life of an enemy who could not defend himself.”

Nova dropped her hands, staring up at him. 

“But… but we can beat them,” she murmured, her voice hollow. “Today. Right now. We can end the war.”

“Not like this. Never like this.”

“You're one to talk, old man!” Nova growled, her frustration returning. “When you were on Synth-En—“

“When I was on Synth En, I was not in my right mind,” said Ratchet. 

“You said Optimus was soft!”

“I was wrong!” 

“You said he didn’t kill Megatron when he had the chance!” Nova yelled. “Well, now we have the chance! The Decepticons would kill us if they had the chance!”

“But we are not the Decepticons!” Ratchet roared. 

Taken aback, Nova shut her mouth, angered tears shining in her eyes. At their sudden close proximity, the medic realized her armor had snapped over her body again, bristling around her shoulders. 

“You still have much to learn what being an Autobot means,” the medic said with a sigh. “Our objective is to protect life whenever possible. I may not always agree with Optimus, but he is the only commander under which I have served who approaches the war with selflessness and honor, and that is something I need to uphold in his … absence,” he finished, glancing back at the petrified Prime. 

“But—“

“Nova, I need you to take care of the children,” Ratchet said firmly, looking her in the eyes. “I’m sending you with Agent Fowler to make sure everyone comes back alive. You are not there to assassinate. You are there to defend. Understand?”

Sullenly, Nova gave him a nod, marching over to the other humans with a dark scowl behind her visor. 

“All of you be very, very careful,” he said, looking at the five of them. “And use your commlinks to tell me what’s happening, am I clear?”

They nodded silently.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The Groundbridge was the only thing that broke the heavy silence draped over the warship, and as five small figures walked through, the stuffy quiet overtook the air once again, pressing into every corner of the hall. 

Nova hated it. Something was wrong here, something that felt sickeningly similar to what she experienced in the Earth’s core, when they had faced Unicron. 

“Fowler to base,” the government agent said into the comms. “We’re in.”

“Good,” Ratchet said in their ears as they walked through the forest of frozen Vehicons. “Their data core should be accessible from any console.”

“Uh, Nova, don’t you know your way around?” Jack asked. “You’ve been on board more than all of us.”

“I didn’t have time to explore,” Nova bit out. 

They crossed quietly into the next room, at the edge of which stood a solitary computer monitor, blinking quietly in the dark. 

A familiar shape was slumped over the keyboard panel. None of them had forgotten about the Decepticon medical officer.

Raf gulped, and pointed a shaking finger.

“Th-there’s one,” he whispered. 

Before anyone could stop her, Miko had darted forward, raised her fist and thumped loudly on Knock Out’s leg. He made absolutely no response.

“Doc Knock is knocked out,” she said gleefully.

“I don’t think Bulkhead taught you enough about self-preservation,” Nova said with a scowl.

“You’re one to talk,” Miko sassed. “How do you think Optimus would have felt if you set off the Spark Extractor in here and killed yourself?”

Nova glowered at the girl, but the youngest human interrupted their spat with a gasp. 

“Look,” Raf said, gazing up at the monitor. “The ship’s already decrypted two sets of coordinates.”

All eyes turned to the red screen. Sure enough, there were two sets of Decepticon ciphers linking in place, soon joined by another.

“Three,” Raf said.

He turned to Agent Fowler. “Let’s rip and run!”

Struggling, Fowler climbed up Knock Out’s body and helped Raf along behind him, reaching the computer monitor right after the little boy.

“There’s the port,” Raf said, pointing to the plug for the drive. It lay directly beneath Knock Out’s head.

Fowler knelt and plugged the device into the computer pad, which confirmed the link with a quiet beep. 

As the seconds passed, Nova crossed her arms from where she stood next to Jack and Miko on the ground.

“Why is it taking so long?” she asked. This place was making her antsy, and being away from Optimus this long had begun to feel weird.

“Give it some time,” Raf said. “This database is probably huge.”

Jack was peering at the first set of coordinates, which corresponded to a map in the corner of the screen.

“Um, why is the ship heading to Manhattan?” he asked.

Fowler and Raf turned to look.

Sure enough, the first location had New York directly in its sights.

“Because that’s where the first set of coordinates are located?” Raf guessed.

Fowler stared at the screen.

“What would a relic of Cybertron be doing in the Big Apple?” he asked.

“The Iacon relics landed on Earth eons ago, Agent Fowler,” Ratchet explained. “Long before the city was built atop it.”

“Which means if the ship wants this one, it may need to move some buildings out of the way,” Jack said soberly.

“How many people live in Manhattan?” Nova asked.

“It’s one of the most heavily populated cities in the country,” Fowler said. “Our mission just got complicated.” 

He put a finger to his commlink as Jack, Miko and Nova, scrambled up the comatose Knock Out to join them. “How do we deter this ship?”

“I would advise disabling the navigation module,” Ratchet directed. “Call up the main navigation menu.”

“There,” Raf said, pointing to a panel. He made a move for it, but Fowler pushed him back.

“Step aside, son,” he said sternly.

Fowler approached the panel and knelt beside it, reaching out to touch it. But just as his hand made contact with the metal surface, there was a loud crackling noise, and with a grunt, Fowler stumbled aside and fell to the floor.

“Agent Fowler!” Jack cried.

The only adult in the room groaned from where he had hit the ground, his eyes rolling upward as he lost consciousness.

“SYSTEM ACCESS DETECTED,” a deathly voice said from above. “INTERFERENCE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.”

“There!” Raf pointed to a security camera that had popped out of the ceiling in response to Fowler’s attempts. It swiveled in circles, trying to determine where the intruders were.

“REVEAL YOURSELF,” it boomed.

“Nobody move!” Nova whispered, struggling to remove her armored plating.

They stood stock-still for a torturously long minute, as the camera roved over their position, back and forth. Just as the eye of the security camera roved over Nova’s motionless body, the last of her armor whisked away from her hair, leaving her exposed in the gaze of the warship. 

Seconds passed which felt like years, and Nova’s heart began to pound in her chest, but no paralyzing lasers enveloped anyone. 

“It doesn’t see us!” Miko whispered triumphantly.

“Yet,” Ratchet said. “The ship must not be scanning for carbon-based life forms. But one it widens its search parameters …”

“We’re toast,” Raf finished.

“I’m bridging you back,” the medic said firmly.

“No,” Jack replied. “There are millions of lives at stake in New York, and we four are currently the only ones who can do anything about it.”

“You’re out of your element, Jack,” Ratchet said. “These readings, the ship’s rapid recovery, all point to the fact that Megatron employed Dark Energon to repair it.”

“So that’s why I feel sick,” Nova mumbled, kneeling beside Agent Fowler and inspecting his face as Jack took the man’s pulse. 

“Hold on,” Jack said, getting to his feet, “If the ship’s powered by Dark Energon, we can dump it, right?”

“Hm.” Ratchet considered this. “You’ll need to reverse the warship’s Energon infuser. Follow the main overhead conduits. They should lead you to the ship’s power core.”

“I think I remember where that is,” Nova said, waving them forward. “Follow me!”

They sprinted down the hallway, dodging Vehicon legs and clambering over toppled bodies, heading for the center of the ship.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Come on!” Nova shouted. “We have to hurry!”

The children ran on for a minute longer, struggling to keep up with the half-spark, until suddenly Nova skidded to a stop in front of a short hallway. At the very end shone the soft glow of stacked Energon cubes.

“Here it is,” she whispered.

They approached the power core, shuffling now. Nova felt the same awful presence growing stronger as they neared the end of the hall. It was oppressively strong, stifling her breath and forcing her to slow down.

“It is Dark Energon,” she hissed, gritting her teeth. “Lots of it.”

“The same stuff that hurt Raf?” Miko asked. 

Nova just nodded.

“Try not to touch anything, you guys,” Jack said. “We don’t know what kind of effect it could have.”

At last, they arrived at the end of the hall, but all stopped in their tracks when they saw what — or who — was standing there.

Megatron, his hand frozen in a death grip on the Energon infuser’s handle, was fixed in a motionless position of terror, bent backwards as though he had been shot from behind.

It was not a pretty sight.

“Looks like Megatron had the same idea,” Jack said.

“Then we’re on the right track,” Raf replied, clenching his fist in determination.

“The Energon injection valve can only be operated manually,” Ratchet explained through the comms.

“Manually?!”

The kids all looked at Megatron. How would they be able to do what even the Decepticon warlord couldn’t?

“I’ll do it,” Nova said suddenly. “My armor gives me a little power. I can probably push him over.”

“But once your armor is activated, your Spark can be detected by the ship,” Ratchet said. “I won’t be able to bridge you back in time.”

“The ship is going to find us soon, anyway,” Nova said. “I don’t have time to argue —”

But before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by a terrible voice.

“I AM INFESTED WITH ALIEN LIFE FORMS!” The ship roared, fixating on their little group. All four of the kids looked up at the camera, which was set in one of the claws made for inserting Energon cubes into the infuser.

“Uh-oh. We just got named,” Miko said.

“Run!” Nova said, pushing them toward the stacked Energon cubes. “Go!”

They did as she said, Jack ushering them in between the towers of stacked boxes as the claw descended from the ceiling. It chose to follow them as Nova took a deep breath and began to climb up the Decepticon warlord. He was all angles and spikes, and she was certain she’d cut something if she climbed too fast, but she heard the clanging of the claw as it dashed Energon cubes aside, intent on seizing her friends, and she scrambled up his body faster.

Finally she reached the top, and jumped from his shoulder to the platform which held the lever. His fist was still tightly clutching the lever, a testament to the desperation he had felt.

Time seemed to slow down, and the sounds of the children’s screams dulled in Nova’s ears as she stared at the Decepticon warlord. His eyes were frozen open, wide and frightened and confused, like Optimus’ had been. It almost made her feel sorry for him. 

Almost. 

Her blade slid out from her wrist with a hollow ring. 

“This ends today,” she whispered, taking a step onto his arm as armor closed around her body. “You’ve tortured Optimus for too long.”

“Nova!” Ratchet barked, startling her. “Reverse the infuser!”

“Ratchet—“

“Do it now!”

“But Megatron—”

“Forget about Megatron!” Ratchet snapped. “The children need you!”

Nova looked down at her sword, then at the warship’s infusion claw. It was furiously tearing the stacks aside, getting closer and closer, intent on ripping the children apart. 

“Help!” Raf screamed, clinging to Jack for protection. Miko was screaming at the claw, but what could she do? What could any of them do?

Clenching her teeth, Nova let out a growl. “Fine!”

Slipping her sword back into her arm, she put her shoulder against the lever and braced her feet against the ground, straining with all her might. Muscles screaming, the half-spark let out a shout, and pushed against his knuckles harder, but apart from a little jolt, she could not move him.

With a yell, Nova kicked his fingers. “Move, you stubborn piece of slag!”

The screams of Raf and Miko alerted her. The claw had almost made its way to the bottom of the Energon stack, where the children had huddled in the furthest corner. Jack had put his arms protectively around the younger ones. He would be the first to die. 

“ALL PARASITES WILL BE ERADICATED,” the ship roared.

Nova sucked in a breath. What can I do? What can I do? Think!

Glancing around for solutions, she looked at the way Megatron was standing, and then looked at the claw, and a little plan began to form in her head.

Abandoning the lever, she leapt down from the warlord’s body and cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling out: “Hey! Over here!”

The claw snapped around to point at her, quivering with rage.

“You want to neutralize a Cybertronian?” Nova asked, clenching her fists and flaring her armor. “Well, here I am!”

She was practically glowing now, Energon shining through narrow chinks in her armor, spilling from her eyes. How could the ship possibly refuse?

“No!” Raf cried.

“Nova, run!” Jack shouted.

The claw snapped forward faster than she had expected, and Nova just barely managed to dodge to the side as it slammed into the ground next to her.

She looked back, making sure it was following her, then bolted toward Megatron, making a beeline for his leg and turning around to meet her foe.

“Come on,” she grumbled, staring down the claw. “You know you want to.”

As expected, the warship did not hesitate. It darted forward, intent on snapping her up in its cruel jaws, but at the very last second, Nova dove underneath the apparatus and slid out of its way, rolling forward.

The claw had no time to divert its course, and collided with Megatron’s aft with the force of a speeding train. The sound of clashing metal rang out into the power core.

Dislodged by momentum, the warlord began to tilt backward from the impact, his hand still gripping the lever, and his weight pulled the injection handle to the reverse position, his body creaking all the way down.

The warlord hit the ground hard as the bright blue of healthy Energon filled the tubes leading up to the ceiling, relieving the oppressive energy of Unicron’s blood.

“CRITICAL POWER DRAIN,” the ship rumbled, its voice becoming fainter by the second. “I AM — IN — COMMAND. PREPARE to be … neutralized …”

The claw stopped inches short of the injection valve, so close to completing its objective, but failing all the same.

Nova sighed in relief as she watched the cube of Dark Energon slide out of the power core.

“We did it,” she said.

“I thought we were goners,” Raf panted, clutching Jack’s hand. 

“That was freaking sick!” Miko squealed, hugging Nova. “It hit him right in the—”

Then, to their horror, Megatron’s body moved. His groan made them all scramble away in a panic.

Eyes wild, Nova pushed them toward the door. “Go!”

“Run!” Jack said.

All four of them ran faster than they had ever run before, but as they sped through the hallway, Raf fell behind, his short legs struggling to keep up with the others.

“Wait for me!” he squeaked.

Pausing, Nova turned around and scooped him up, holding him tightly in her arms as she ran. “I got you.”

They sprinted past scores of dazed Vehicons, who came out of stasis just as they ran by, and Nova found herself panicking more and more as they got closer to the computer room. What had happened to Fowler? What if Knock Out had woken up? Where was Ratchet?

“Hurry!” she panted, her feet flying beneath her racing heart. 

Suddenly, she gasped, stumbling forward a little. 

Optimus was awake. 

She could feel him coming back to consciousness, and his mind was a huge mess.

“Augh!” she grunted, gripping the boy in her arms tightly. The initial anger and shock hit her full force, rushing past her defenses as though they never existed, and she faltered a few steps.

Raf looked up at her, hanging on to his glasses. “Nova, are you okay?!”

Breathing hard, she looked down at him, and let out a little laugh.

“I'm great!” she huffed, beginning to run again. 

Jack pressed a finger to his commlink as they neared the monitor room.

“Ratchet!” he yelled. “Fire up the Groundbridge!”

Decepticons were coming alive all around them, but they made it into the room just as the last Vehicon had stirred, and no one took notice of them as they slipped by.

One of the perks of being small, Nova thought to herself with a smile. 

With a sigh of relief, Nova put Raf down as Miko approached Agent Fowler, who had recovered enough to groan.

"On your feet, soldier,” Miko hustled him, draping one of his arms around her shoulders.

“And… beavers an’ ducks ’n’ walnuts an’ Grandma!” he slurred, falling out of her grasp.

Miko grimaced as he lurched forward and hit the floor again. There was no way she could lift him all by herself.

The boys glanced at the computer screen. They still had to get the thumb drive. Knock Out had not woken up yet, but the progress monitor on the screen showed only about forty percent of the database had been taken.

“That’s all that’s been downloaded?!” Jack cried, glaring at the screen.

Raf pushed up his glasses. “The Iacon file must be huge!”

Before they could figure out what to do, the Groundbridge opened up behind them, flaring with the vibrant green light that Nova had never been so happy to see.

“Sweet!” Miko whooped, bending down to lift up Fowler again.

“Here, let me help,” Nova said, taking his other arm.

Miko jerked a head at Jack. “Come on, here’s our ride!” 

But the boy was looking at the computer with a determination that the half-spark recognized as a very bad idea in the works.

“Jack?” Raf asked warily, looking back at him.

“Get Fowler outta here,” Jack directed, beginning to climb up the Decepticon’s body.

Nova knew there would be no arguing with him.

“Let’s go,” she said, lugging Fowler into the Groundbridge.

“But we can’t leave him!” Raf ran along next to the girls as they lugged Fowler through the portal. “Jack isn’t going to be able to do it on his own!”

“Don’t worry,” Nova said, trotting forward. “We’ll figure something out.”

They stumbled back into the base, but Ratchet had already counted them before Nova could open her mouth.

“Jack?” he asked.

“Back there,” the half-spark replied, jerking her head. “Hurry.”

Ratchet charged through the Groundbridge without a moment’s hesitation, and Nova helped place Fowler onto the nearest human-sized bed as the remaining Autobots looked around in confusion.

“What happened?” Bulkhead asked.

Miko and Raf immediately launched into their tale of bravado and terror, going into detail about the last hour’s adventures and causing their guardians no end of confusion. 

But Nova only wanted to talk to one of them.

“You’re okay!” she cried, running to Optimus and throwing her arms around his foot.

The confusion on his side of the bond was instantly replaced with a surge of relief, and he smiled softly at her.

"Nova, are you all right?" he asked, sensing the residual rush of panic in her nerves. 

"I'm fine," she replied. "Are you hurt?"

He put a hand to his head wearily. "Only a little."

A second later, Ratchet returned from within the bridge; Jack in one hand and the transfer drive in the other.

Raf stared with wide eyes at the white paint flecks that scraped across the medic’s knuckles.

“What happened to Knock Out?” he asked timidly.

“He’s busy living up to his name,” Ratchet replied, setting Jack on the ground.

“Were you five aboard the Decepticon warship?” Optimus asked, a little reproachfully. Nova could feel the worry pushing at her Spark.

“It’s fine. Nobody died, and we stole some information,” she said, sending out flares of joy in an attempt to cover over her guilt. “No big deal.”

He frowned a little, doubtful of that. 

Nova reached up to him, her hands outstretched in a silent question, and Optimus obliged, picking her up and placing her on his shoulder carefully as Ratchet filled them in on the events which had occurred since their sudden stasis lock. 

And for the first time, her armor began to shift away on its own. 

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova liked sitting on Optimus’ shoulder. The cabling around his neck provided little handholds for her to hang on to. Optimus stood taller than anyone in the entire base — even Bulkhead only came up to his elbow — and when Nova was sitting up there, right next to him, she felt like she was on top of the whole world.

By now, Ratchet had plugged the drive into the computer and pulled up all the information the kids had managed to gain. The others gathered around, watching him work.

“The download of the Iacon database may be incomplete,” he said, “But we now possess four sets of coordinates decoded by the ship.”

“Then we must act quickly,” Optimus said. “For Megatron possesses the same four sets. And he will not hesitate to obtain the potential doomsday devices which lie at the site of each.”

The others split up, gathering their rations and fuel they needed to get back onto the battlefield as Ratchet began to input the coordinates. 

For Optimus’ part, he was grateful for the brief respite. 

The bond was less intrusive than it had felt that morning. Nova’s mind still weighed on his own, but Optimus had quickly begun to realize he liked it. She was an oddly comforting weight. Almost like a balance of sorts. Something to counter the immense loneliness he felt sometimes. This was merely another way he could be close to her ... another way he could protect her.  

"That feels nice," she said next to his ear. 

"What?”

Nova chuckled a little. "You're happy."

Optimus thought he'd felt something pleasant ... a quiet, gentle kind of feeling, running under his Spark. Was it coming from him?

It must have been, because Nova giggled again, louder. “S-stop! It tickles!” 

Immediately after he heard her laugh, Optimus' Spark leapt with the intense, warm feeling of joy that flashed through his little human -- the joy they could now share. It was just as piercing as the sadness, but it was far more wonderful, and far more bright. He hadn't felt that way for a long time. It made him smile as his eyes lingered on her, and his receptors drank in her laugh. 

This might not be so bad after all.

Chapter Text

Night had fallen in Jasper, at the end of a long, long day. 

Just a few hours ago, Nova and the children had returned with a groggy Agent Fowler in tow, as well as four Iacon coordinates decoded by the Decepticon warship. 

Since then, everyone had scrambled to get to their assigned destinations before the Decepticons did. With the two older kids acting as human cover, Arcee and Bumblebee had been bridged to New York to go after the first relic, and Ratchet was now preparing to close the bridge behind Bulkhead as he traveled to his location.

“Be on your guard, Bulkhead,” Optimus warned as the green bot charged through the bridge. 

Now, only Nova, Fowler, and Raf remained with the two senior members of Team Prime, and the base was feeling more quiet by the second.

Nova fidgeted with the new gadget Ratchet was strapping to her back.

“Remind me what this is again, old man.”

“It’s a thermal insulation pack,” Ratchet replied. “It will help regulate your body temperature in sub zero environments.”

“But I’ve been in cold places before,” Nova grumbled. “It can't be that bad."

“The South Pole is cold enough to kill a normal human in an hour. I’m not exactly sure how much your armor will insulate you, but it’s best to be on the safe side since we have no idea how long you and Optimus will be away.”

He finished attaching the links to her armor, and nodded. “You should be fully equipped to survive for at least five hours, as long as you don’t break anything.”

She stood up, testing the weight of her new pack. “Do I really have to wear it?”

“Yes.”

With a sigh of defeat, Nova hopped down the stairs to stand by her guardian’s foot.

“Rafael, lock on to the remaining coordinates,” Optimus directed. “I will embark for the Antarctic.” 

The smallest human complied, typing the coordinates into his computer while Optimus turned to the medic.

“As for you, old friend,” he said. “I would prefer that you have company on your mission.”

“No one is left to join me, Optimus,” Ratchet said, looking around. “And even if Agent Fowler were alert...”

“How’s your huggin' buggin…ungh!” Fowler muttered from his bed, passing out for the third time that day.

“…He’s human,” Ratchet finished.

“I was considering the only remaining Autobot alternative on this planet,” Optimus said.

Ratchet’s eyes widened in realization.

“But you — you can’t be serious,” he spluttered. “Wheeljack is insubordinate — a ruffian! Besides, he’s Bulkhead’s partner.”

“Your expertise is scientific,” Optimus pointed out. “But Wheeljack is a highly capable warrior. You would be wise to welcome the temporary alliance.”

“Ugh,” Ratchet sighed, pinching the place where his nose would be if he had one.

“I’ll bring up Wheeljack’s coordinates after we send Optimus off,” Raf offered helpfully.

Ratchet muttered something to himself and began to gather up his tools. After all, who knew what medical assistance might be needed if Wheeljack was involved?

“You sure you don’t want me to stay behind?” Nova asked, looking up at Optimus. “You told me to stay home last time.”

“In light of recent events, I do not think it is wise to be apart,” he said quietly.

With that, Optimus transformed, and the Groundbridge burst open in front of them, illuminating Nova’s silvery-white armor as she climbed into the cab.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Minutes later, the freezing cold hit Nova full-force as she stepped out of her guardian’s vehicle mode. It bit into her armor with stinging ferocity, and she hurriedly switched on the thermal pack as Optimus transformed.

“So where is this thing?” she asked, looking up at her guardian.

“The relic’s coordinates are located due east,” Optimus said, pointing to their left.

Nova looked toward the east, following his arm. The land around them was dark and barren, a place full of white cliffs and jagged valleys stabbing upward beneath a cloudy grey sky; a place made of ice and snow, and absolutely nothing else.

“This is a great hiding place,” she said, folding her arms. “Nobody would look for a relic unless they knew it was here.”

“Unfortunately, the Decepticons know its location as well as we do,” Optimus replied, beginning to walk. “My hope is that we may retrieve it before they arrive.”

“And if we don’t?” Nova asked, trotting beside him.

Optimus was silent for a moment.

“If there is a confrontation, I want you to stay out of danger,” he said finally.

“But you brought me along,” she protested. “I want to help.”

“I made the decision for you to accompany me because I need to watch over you,” Optimus replied. “Not because I want you to engage the Decepticons in combat every time you venture outdoors.”

She frowned. “I’m not a little kid. I can take care of myself.”

“I do not doubt that,” he said. “But in times of war, you must not depend on your strength alone. You need to trust those who care for you, otherwise your strength could cost you everything.”

Nova thought about this for a moment. His side of the bond was a bit obscured, but she could still feel his immense sadness, the kind which was always present when he spoke like that.

“Fine,” she said finally. “But I still want to help.”

Optimus looked at her. 

“You are helping,” he said, “More than you know.”

Nova said nothing, plodding by his side through the snow.

After that, they said little. It was too cold to talk. Even with the thermal gadget on her back, Nova could feel the chill seeping through her armor as the wind raged against them. They walked onward, due east, for about a quarter of an hour. The hissing of the air and the crunching of their feet were the only sounds to be heard.

The stark, blue-white landscape around them never changed. There were no trees, no creatures, no birds, no water, no dirt, no sound. There was not a single living thing for miles except the half-spark and her giant alien friend.

Nova shivered. Frost had begun to collect around the edges of her visor, and she noticed an icy crust had filled in the joints of her gauntlets. Clumps of snow clung to her metal-clad feet and shins.

“Old man was right,” she murmured, tucking her hands underneath her arms. "Cold out here."

“Are you all right?” Optimus asked, a hint of worry coming from his side.

Nova scoffed. “Of course.” 

She looked up at him, the ice in her armor crackling a little. “Can I ride up there?”

“If you stop moving, you will lose your energy,” Optimus declined. “Keep walking. You can do it.”

She did as he said, trudging across the icy ground.

His footsteps were a rather comforting sound; something to keep Nova close to his side. The fog from her breath made it hard to see, and if she hadn’t been able to hear him walking; she would certainly have fallen behind, or strayed away from him, or fallen to her death.

The humming thermal pack mounted on her shoulders was making a valiant effort to ward off the cold, but she still trembled in the wind, and her fingers felt frozen, and stiff.

She huffed a sigh, forgetting herself, and her visor filled with another blinding puff of fog.

Frustrated, Nova reached up to swipe the stubborn crystals from her helmet, stomping her feet as she walked.

Stupid snow. Stupid cold. 

Optimus, sensing her burst of annoyance, said, “We are nearly there.”

“Ok-kay,” Nova said. Her teeth began to chatter, and she clenched her jaw. 

Stop clacking. 

“Um, d-do we have any idea what this relic thing is?” 

“There were many artifacts contained in the vaults of Iacon, preserved from both the end of the Golden Age and the beginning of the war,” Optimus said. “The coordinates did not specify which landed here.”

“They’re probably b-bad things, right?"

Stupid teeth!

“Among the Iacon relics were A-class weapons, some of the most devastating artifacts known to our kind.”

“L-like the S-spark Extractor?” 

“Indeed.”

Nova rubbed her hands across her arms. It didn’t help much.

“S-so it’s probably not something good, then,” she said, attempting to shake the ice out of her shoulder seams. “Probably n-not a book or something.”

“That can be safely assumed.”

Suddenly, Nova heard him stop, his body crouching a little to conceal himself.

“What is it?” she asked, peering around his leg as he knelt beside her.

They were standing near the edge of a giant ice cliff, looking out at the valley beneath them, where six figures could be seen milling about in the snow, next to a huge hole in the cliff in which were planted several red flags that danced in the wind. Four of the figures were a very familiar Vehicon purple.

“Decepticons,” Nova whispered. “Why are they just standing around?”

Optimus stared down at them for a while, evaluating the situation.

“The relic has been moved,” Optimus said finally. “It is most likely in their possession.”

Optimus glanced at her, his eyes glowing above his mask.

“Nova, listen to me,” he said. “In all likelihood, Dreadwing will have the relic. If you must defend yourself against Starscream or the Vehicons, then do so, but do not engage Dreadwing, under any circumstances — no matter what happens to me. Is that understood?”

Nova set her jaw, and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Commander Dreadwing,” one of the Vehicons said, pointing to a set of lines imprinted on the snow. “We have discovered vehicle tracks.”

Dreadwing clenched his fist.

“The Autobots,” he muttered, his voice filled with loathing. 

Of course they had taken it. Of course they had robbed him of his victory. Of course they would force him to report to his master empty-handed once again.

“Perhaps,” Starscream’s smug voice piped up from behind him, his fingers clinking between his handcuffs. “Though I’ve never known them to plant flags at the site of their victories.”

Dreadwing snapped around and grabbed Starscream by the neck, raising him into the air.

“Do not try me, traitor,” he growled, glaring straight into the scrawny Seeker’s terrified eyes. “Or I will leave your lifeless husk in this frozen waste.”

Before he could continue, the rumble of an engine came to his ears. He turned, gazing out over the icy landscape, and sure enough, he instantly recognized the familiar headlights and red hue of Optimus Prime’s vehicle mode, approaching over the ridge.

With another growl, Dreadwing dropped Starscream, who hit the ground with a yelp, and gestured to the nearest Vehicons.

“You two,” he ordered. “Guard the prisoner.”

He walked forward in the snow to meet the leader of the Autobots, who transformed and stood a reasonable distance away.

The last two Vehicons emerged from behind their commander and flanked the Prime, who stared steadily at Dreadwing with no hint of fear in his eyes.

“Optimus Prime,” Dreadwing hailed him. “I will request — only once — that you surrender the relic.”

“I was going to request the same of you, Dreadwing,” Optimus replied. Dreadwing’s fingers twitched in anticipation, or apprehension, ready for the fight that was sure to come.

“Then I would say that we are on equal footing,” he replied, “If not that there were five of us, and only one of you.”

“Six!” Starscream hissed behind him. “If you would relieve me of these ridiculous manacles!”

Dreadwing ignored him, staring at Optimus from under lowered brows. He had challenged the Prime, and due to his insufferable Autobot perseverance, Dreadwing knew he would answer. It was only a matter of time now. Sooner or later, someone would have to make the first move, and today, Dreadwing was not willing to be patient.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Fingers straining in the cold, Nova clung to Optimus’ smokestacks. She could feel the anticipation rippling through his mind as he faced down the Decepticons. She knew that, given the situation, Optimus would bide his time, silently waiting for his opponent to strike first. 

But waiting was hard. Every second that ticked by was horribly slow, as though threatening to snap from the tension. The half-spark felt nothing but Optimus’ absolute focus cutting into her thoughts, and she gripped his smokestacks tightly, waiting for him to move, to give her the signal to attack.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Then, the whirring of charged-up weapons split the air, and the Vehicons leveled their guns at her guardian as Dreadwing unleashed a round from his cannon.

In an instant, Optimus snapped to the side and ratcheted back his weapon, and Nova sprang from his back, darting towards the nearest Vehicon as Optimus fired a shot at Dreadwing. 

Her visor was terribly fogged up, and the thermal pack weighed her down, but she still mustered up enough speed to slide between the Vehicon’s blurry legs, the lasers stabbing into the ice around her, and fire two shots into his torso, bringing him down in an instant. 

A little dizzy from her sudden rush of adrenaline, she spun around and took aim at the next Vehicon, firing rapidly at the blurry shape until he fell back in the snow.

Optimus, meanwhile, had bolted to the left, keeping Dreadwing busy while the remaining two Vehicons held a handcuffed Starscream between them.

Rubbing at her visor, Nova stared in momentary confusion at the strange sight. Why was Starscream being detained by his own teammates?

Then, she remembered. After the events following Airachnid’s possession of the Immobilizer, and his accidental confession to Arcee regarding Cliffjumper’s death, the Seeker had disappeared, rejected by both factions. 

Apparently the Decepticons hate him as much as we do.

All of this flashed through her head in an instant, but she had no time to dwell on it, for Optimus’ spur of urgency brought her back to the present.

“Take cover!” he ordered.

Nova did so, scrambling to the side and ducking behind a chunk of ice in the face of the cliff, watching the fight continue.

Narrowly recovering from a blast, Optimus lifted his arm, aimed, and launched a shot into Dreadwing’s right shoulder.

With a growl, Dreadwing reloaded his weapon and fired three grenades directly at her guardian.

Yanking in a short gasp, Nova felt her brief sense of panic usurped by amazement as her guardian leapt into the air and flipped over the grenades, landing in front of the Decepticon Commander as the charges exploded behind him, sending a rush of searing heat into Nova’s body.

Closing her eyes, she ducked behind the ice in an effort to avoid the barrage of shrapnel.

When she looked up again, her guardian and Dreadwing were locked in combat, the sound of their swords ringing out into the icy landscape. 

Optimus, sweeping his sword through the air, used Dreadwing’s lack of balance to kick him in the chest, knocking him away. With a yell, Dreadwing leapt into the air and brought his sword down upon her guardian, but Optimus blocked it with a great effort, stepping back and placing his other hand under his blade as he bore the weight of the Seeker on his arm.

Then, with a grunt, he used his leverage to slam Dreadwing’s sword into the ground, but the Seeker had been prepared for this, and lashed out with his other arm, punching Optimus in the face.

Nova let out a wordless groan. She could no longer feel Optimus’ physical pain, but the dizziness of his mind as he reeled closer and closer to the edge of the cliff was all too tangible now, and almost as debilitating.

A momentary silence fell. The two warriors regarded one another from a distance, regaining their footing, as Nova and Starscream watched anxiously from their positions across the battlefield.

Suddenly, Dreadwing sheathed his sword, placing it in the holster on his back as he raised his fists. Optimus did the same, charging at his opponent with the intent of attacking him head-on, but Dreadwing used his greater momentum and weight to slam his entire body into Optimus’ ribs, sending them both hurtling over the cliff.

She heard her guardian shout in pain, but what she felt in her mind was so much worse.

“Optimus!” Nova screamed, darting out from her hiding place.

Spotting her, the two Vehicons raised up a cry, opening fire on the little flesh creature.

“Get her! She shot Frank!” one of them growled, his angered lasers punching dozens of dents into the ice around her.

Shielding her face, Nova scrambled across the frozen ground and dropped over the cliff's edge, sliding and slipping downward at an alarming rate, tumbling head-over-heels, over-and-over-and-ow-my-head until she hit the ground, just a few feet away from where Optimus and Dreadwing had landed. 

“Augh,” she groaned, the overwhelming pressure of Optimus’ mind bearing down on her. The clanging of the warriors’ fists colliding with metal was deafening, and as the ice dust cleared, she could see that both were still standing, and neither was backing down.

Dazedly, Nova turned and checked on the battered heater strapped to her back.

“Still online,” she puffed. “Okay — okay, good —”

She didn’t have long to think about it. She scrambled away just before Dreadwing would have trampled her, as he exchanged heavy blows with her guardian.

Their movements were quick, rushed, as if each warrior was only interested in landing another punch; hopefully one which would send his opponent to the ground. Nova bolted over to Optimus’ side of the fight, her eyes wide open and her mind alert as she crouched behind another ice slab.

Optimus snapped his arm around to hit the Decepticon in the face, but Dreadwing blocked it, planted his feet, and slammed his fist into Optimus’ jaw.

The Prime hit the ground hard.

"Ugh..."

Nova rushed to his side. “Optimus!”

Optimus let out a pained groan, and raised his head wearily, looking at her. His mind reeled. Nova could tell the cold was getting to him.

At the sight of the fear in her eyes, Optimus recovered quickly. He flipped out his weapon and aimed it over Dreadwing’s shoulder, firing a single shot into the cliff behind him.

Smirking, Dreadwing pulled his gun out of its holster.

“Your aim is poor,” he said.

The cracking and snapping of the cliff drew Nova’s gaze, and she suddenly understood what Optimus had meant to do.

“That is a matter of perspective,” her guardian said, as the groaning of the ice rang out into the valley.

In sudden realization, Dreadwing turned to look behind him, and Optimus scooped Nova up in his hands, getting to his feet as the ice began to slip away from the cliff.

Nova closed her eyes and pressed her head into his chest, listening to Dreadwing’s despairing, “No!” ring out behind them.

Optimus’ dazed thoughts were leaking into her head, tangling with her own as he ran. It’s all right, it’s all right.

It’s so cold—

Don’t worry. I have you.

The Decepticon was quickly overtaken by the avalanche as the mountain came down. Realizing he could not make the distance in time, Optimus knelt on the ice with the half-spark in his hands, shielding her from the snow and freezing boulders that crashed down around them.

There was a silence. Thick, icy dust filled the air, and Nova could see absolutely nothing for a while. But she could still feel her guardian, and that was enough to calm her racing heart.

After a minute, Optimus got to his feet. She felt his hands pushing the snow off of her, and his momentary worry flaring in his mind as he asked, “Are you all right?”

“It’s just snow,” she said. “I’m not the one who got punched in the face.” 

She tried to laugh. “He — he hit you so hard I could read your thoughts…”

But her laugh was more of a groan, and Optimus could hear her teeth chattering.

“Hold on to me,” he said, putting her on his shoulder.

“Where are we g-going?”

“If the Decepticons do not have the relic, then we must find out who does,” he said. “We are going to retrieve it, and then we are going home.”

He began to walk, his feet clanking softly in the snowy remains of the destroyed cliff.

As they approached the beginning of the avalanche, where the pile sloped up to the top of the cliff, Nova heard a Vehicon’s voice call out, “Commander Dreadwing!”

They thought Optimus was Dreadwing.

Then they saw that he wasn’t.

“Uh-oh,” Nova murmured, right before she heard a shot fire out and hit the ground, right next to Optimus’ feet. Within a second, her guardian had whipped out his blasters again, charging at the Vehicons who guarded Starscream.

Nova clung to his neck as best she could with cold fingers, barely hanging on as she was flung backward by his momentum. 

Optimus raised his arms and blasted down the Vehicons, who returned fire with their usual poor aim, but to Nova’s surprise, Optimus was not fighting alone.

Peering through her icy visor, she watched in shock as Starscream turned and grabbed the nearest Vehicon, preventing him from shooting Optimus, and used the trooper’s body as a shield against the other guard, who fired upon Starscream in his hapless panic, and ended up hitting his comrade in the back instead. The Vehicon slumped over Starscream, silent as stone.

Optimus quickly fired a shot at the remaining Vehicon, sending him into the snow as Starscream flung his limp guard to the ground.

What’s happening? Nova thought, suspicion welling up in her mind.

Nova felt Optimus’ quiet displeasure growing in tandem with her apprehension as he walked toward Starscream, his guns still mounted on his arms. The last time the Autobots had shown the Seeker mercy, he had slashed Arcee in the side and disappeared, leaving the murder of Cliffjumper still fresh in the two-wheeler’s tortured mind.

But the Seeker now approached them with a smile on his face, and friendliness in his voice.

“What a team we make!” he crowed, his wings hiked straight up on his back. “I am so glad that you prevailed, Optimus Prime!”

Optimus stared at him in silence. The brewing disgust in his Spark told Nova he was not buying a word of this. 

“That wretch Dreadwing was going to terminate me,” Starscream whined, lifting his handcuffs for Optimus to see. “Now, if you could just remove my bonds, I can lead you straight to the relic!”

Optimus put his blaster right between Starscream’s eyes.

“You will lead me there regardless,” he said firmly. 

Nova was glad he wasn’t cutting the Seeker any slack. Just the sight of him made her angry.

“Hmph! You’re welcome,” Starscream huffed. “Autobots can be so ungrateful. Just like your little pets,” he finished, glaring at Nova. “What brings you out here, little Earthling? Still looking for your brother?”

Nova frowned.

“Can we kill him?” she suggested.

Optimus moved his blaster closer to Starscream, just a fraction, but he didn’t have to. From Starscream’s reaction, the look in his eyes was warning enough.

“Could you at least take the cuffs off?” Starscream asked timidly. “You really don’t need them, you know. A big, strong Autobot like you could easily overpower me, I’m sure.”

When Optimus made no response, Starscream grumbled again. “Oh, have it your way.” 

Sullenly, he pointed to the south. “The relic lies in this direction.”

They began to walk, Optimus keeping his blaster at Starscream’s back. A blissful two minutes passed before Starscream began to grumble again.

"Be reasonable, Prime,” he growled, glancing back at them. “This cold will freeze both our actuators.”

“The current temperatures are not extreme enough to effect our biology,” Optimus replied. “You’ll be fine.”

“Fine, but miserable,” Starscream whined. “And I cannot believe that you would take our alliances for granted. After all I’ve done for the Autobots — helping to restore your memory; saving Arcee’s life...”

Killing Cliffjumper, aiding MECH, scrapping Bee’s T-cog, firing a rocket at me, Nova listed in her head.

But Optimus’ patient calm eased her rising anger.

“While you have at times proved beneficial to us,” he said, “It has only been to further your own interest.”

True.

Starscream rolled his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be as selfless as you, now can we?” 

Optimus did not respond, and Starscream walked onward sullenly. 

The minutes stretched longer and longer. What little conversation the Seeker tried to start was snuffed out by Optimus’ silence and the chill. The wind began to pick up as the night went on, and Nova, riding on Optimus’ shoulder, felt herself getting colder and colder. Her whole body trembled violently now, and the urge to fall asleep was very great.

She let out a shivering sigh as her eyes began to close. 

Just sleep for a minute.

Just close your eyes.

Just for a second …

“Nova.”

“I’m awake!” she yelped, her head popping up.

“You must walk, in order to remain alert,” Optimus said quietly, lifting her off of his shoulder and placing her in the snow.

“Fine,” she mumbled, shuffling forward.

I’m so weak, she thought sharply. Can't even stay awake. Can't even keep my teeth still.

Her guilt lashed out at his side of the bond before she could stop herself, and she heard him take in a breath.

“Sorry!” she yelped.

He paused. “You do not have to be sorry, Nova.”

“I know, it’s just … I still don’t know what’s happening, and—” Nova said.

"This is not the time," Optimus warned her quietly.

“I’m really trying not to hurt you, I just … I  feel like I’m slowing you down.”

Starscream halted suddenly, turning around and staring at the two as they spoke to one another. Suddenly, his eyes widened in realization.

“Wait. Hurt him?” he spluttered. “You mean … you two are—” 

They both looked at him, the exact same expression written in their wide eyes.

The Seeker spat a question at Optimus, though he already knew the answer. “Don’t tell me you’ve bonded to the creature?!”

The human glanced up at the Prime, and he closed his eyes.

Oh, it was true.

Starscream began to laugh, loudly. He laughed so hard and so long he could barely catch his breath. His shrieking echoed off the ice cliffs and rang out into the valley around them.

“Such absurdity!” he cried at last. “You actually bonded to an organic! The Prime of Cybertron, harboring feelings for a flesh-creature!”

He cackled loudly, almost keeling over in the snow. “Ahahaha! Oh, oh, why am I not surprised?”

“Get up,” Optimus directed.

Starscream did so, snickering.

“Surely you realize you’ve made her the most endangered human on the planet,” he asked the Prime. “What if Megatron were to find out about your little connection, hm?” He tutted his tongue, looking at Nova. “You’re far too special for your own good, fleshling.”

Nova frowned. “What’s he talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about, little vermin,” Starscream bent down to leer at her. “Although you’re certainly the tiniest liability I’ve ever seen.”

Nova shrank away from him, moving closer to Optimus.

“Oh, look at your eyes! So very frightened,” Starscream chuckled, reaching out to grab her with his gleaming talons. “I wonder what terrible things would happen to dear Optimus if I made you scream…”

Before he could get any closer, Optimus placed his foot firmly in front of Nova.

“Keep away from her,” he ordered. 

Starscream stood upright and turned to the Prime.

“You can’t keep it a secret forever,” he crooned, grinning in that slimy way that made Nova’s skin crawl. “You know it will only be a matter of time before Megatron discovers your shared sensations, and he will take advantage of it.”

Optimus was silent, his face showing nothing, but Nova sensed a split second of his true worry as he faltered, and it sent her heart racing.

The terror must have shown on her face, because Starscream saw her reaction and grinned wider. 

“Unless, of course, someone would promise to keep the secret?” he hinted. “Someone who could help guarantee future protection for your little … pet? For a small favor?” He rattled his cuffs pointedly. 

But Optimus just nudged the Seeker with his gun. “Keep moving, Starscream.”

Starscream grumbled and trudged forward, his fingers clinking slightly.

As the cold air filled the silence once again, Optimus turned his attention to Nova’s rising anxiety. He looked down at her dismal face.

“Nova, Starscream is exaggerating to manipulate things in his favor,” he said. “You do not need to fear.”

“But … he’s right,” Nova murmured. “What if Megatron finds out? What if he hurts me to get to you?”

Optimus resisted the urge to picture the situation that those words implied, and the even stronger urge to picture what he would most certainly have to do if that situation ever arose.

“That will not happen,” he replied firmly. “Not while I am alive.”

“So what is this?” Starscream asked from up front, interrupting them. “Just a little field trip to … get used to one another, I assume? Why else would you have brought a human with you to a frozen wasteland, where I’m sure she can’t possibly have wanted to go? The bond was made recently, I imagine. Still hurts, eh?”

Optimus’ raised weapon was enough to stop his questions.

“Just making conversation,” Starscream smirked, raising his hands.

He turned around at Optimus’ silent insistence and began to walk again.

Nova followed next to her guardian, listening to his heavy footsteps beside her, and tried to shake off her fatigue. Her body was trembling so much she could barely walk straight, and she hardly bothered to hide her chattering teeth anymore.

Her fingers were numb to the bone, her breath froze in her mask, and her legs were now operating on mental power alone; she could no longer feel them.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Optimus looked down at Nova every few seconds, checking on her. As long as she was standing and walking, he knew she would be fine, but the more mobility she lost, the more danger she was in. If she slowed down and stopped, she would slowly succumb to the cold, and slip away into death. 

I should not have brought her here. 

I can’t protect her. Not forever.

Not from Megatron —

Stop.

He tried to reverse that train of thought before it went right off the rails, but it was interrupted for him.

Behind him, he heard a sudden crunch of snow, and Nova’s soft cry as she fell.

“…help…”

He turned, bent down, and offered her his hand to help her to her feet.

“It's s-so cold,” she whispered, clinging to his finger. 

“You can do it,” he replied firmly. “We will go home soon.”

Nova struggled forward, and after a few seconds managed to keep pace with him again, but the Prime kept a wary eye on the half-spark nonetheless.

A few minutes later, they climbed a final ridge, and Starscream looked out over the valley, which had a few little houses and brightly lit shacks set up in the middle; a solitary outpost gleaming in the dark.

“Aha,” he said. “As I suspected: humans.”

Nova’s arms clung tightly to her chest as she struggled to the top of the ridge.

“We will find the relic here,” Starscream announced, a pleased grin on his face.

Peering through her snowy visor, Nova shivered. How do people live up here?

“So! Let us reclaim what is rightfully ours,” Starscream said, striding forward.

But Optimus grabbed his wing and pulled him back, eliciting a yelp from the Seeker.

“We cannot simply enter a human facility to search for Cybertronian relics,” he said, giving him a shake. Starscream shrugged off her guardian’s grip.

“Not even if they stole it?” he smirked.

“Nor can I expose innocent humans to a dangerous Decepticon,” Optimus rejoined, in a voice which said very clearly, this is not a game.

Nova looked out at the shacks again. Those people probably didn’t have any military-grade weapons at all, much less something that could stop a Cybertronian. They were completely helpless in the snow.

Irritated, Starscream groaned, and muttered something under his breath as Optimus put a hand to his commlink. “Rafael, has Agent Fowler regained consciousness?”

“I’m here, Prime,” Agent Fowler’s voice responded. “What’s your situation?”

“I require access to a research facility at my current coordinates,” Optimus said. 

Now that Optimus was on the phone, Starscream took the time to express his impatience, fussing with his cuffs and growling as he glared at his captors. Nova, shivering in her armor, didn’t quite blame him. She would probably be irritated about something, too, if she were him.

And, she realized, Optimus was probably the first decent person Starscream had been around since he had gone rogue. He couldn’t press his luck with Megatron this way, she was sure. 

“Lemme make a call,” Fowler said, cutting off the link. 

Nova watched Starscream grumble to himself again, sighing and mumbling under his breath.

“How long does he expect us to wait for this?” he asked, after two minutes had passed. Two minutes seemed to be the approximate length of his patience.

“We will wait for as long as is necessary,” Optimus said with finality.

Eventually, Starscream got tired of arguing with someone who refused to get angry in return, and began to pace back and forth, his high heels crunching in the snow. Optimus put his guns away, mostly certain that the disgruntled Decepticon posed no immediate threat. 

Nova took up a position beside Optimus’ leg, hopping on one foot and then the other to keep herself awake. Optimus was the only one who made no sound, staring calmly out at the facility over Starscream’s head like a grim statue.

Nova huffed another sigh, swiping more ice away from her visor.

“You’re tired,” she said finally.

Optimus glanced at her. “What gives you that impression?”

“Well, you’re always tired. But you’ve been going at this nonstop for about a week.”

He hesitated.

“Perhaps I am,” he replied finally.

“Well, maybe when we get home, you can power down for a while,” she said. “A nap sounds pretty nice.”

“There is too much that needs to be done.”

Nova’s mask covered most of her face, but Optimus could still see her suspicious stare as she peered up at him.

“N-no, that’s not it,” she said through chattering teeth.

“What do you mean?”

“You are an awful liar," she replied. "You’re not too busy to sleep. You just don’t want to.”

Optimus stared down at her for a while.

“You do not need to worry about me, Nova,” he said finally.

“Sure, I do,” she replied. “I want to help.”

He refused to reply, and she could tell he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. But she pressed on, trying to find out what was wrong with him.

“Something's bothering you,” Nova said. “And you won’t sleep because you don’t want me to see it.”

Lifting his gaze slightly, Optimus glanced out at Starscream. The Decepticon had turned to look at them, overhearing their conversation.

“This is a conversation for another time, Nova,” Optimus said quietly.

Stifling her questions, Nova turned to look warily at the Seeker as he made a snarky remark from his side of the ridge.

“The little affectionate argument you’re having over there is highly irritating; could you keep it down?”

"We should shoot him," she suggested, staying behind Optimus. "We don't need him anymore."

"We will not kill a defenseless prisoner," Optimus denied. Emboldened by his support, Starscream began to mock the girl again. 

“Whatever is the matter, little vermin?” he leered, advancing closer to her. “Don’t like the big, scary Decepticons, eh? Still traumatized from what happened on the warship? I heard Megatron used the Cortical Psychic Patch on you. I trust it was an interesting experience.”

Nova growled.

“Do not speak to her,” Optimus commanded, staring the Seeker down.

“Fine,” Starscream snarled, beginning to pace again. “Take all the fun out of conversation, why don’t you?”

He fell silent again, and the other two were left alone with their thoughts. 

The skies had begun to clear, but the temperature had dropped again, and the wind picked up slightly. Nova was shaking almost as much as Starscream.

“Are we really going to wait out here in the freezing cold, completely at the mercy of human bureaucracy?” Starscream asked, shooting a glare at Nova.

Before Optimus could say anything, the sound of helicopter blades chopping the air came to their ears.

“Look!” Nova said. “They’re leaving.”

Sure enough, the base had begun to show signs of life, and a few seconds later the three little helicopters containing the scientific team took flight and puttered through the air, disappearing from view. This did not seem to improve Starscream’s mood. 

“Base is clear, Prime,” Fowler reported in the comms. “Try not to wreck the joint.”

“Many thanks, Agent Fowler,” Optimus replied, pushing Starscream forward. 

Nova followed behind, more slowly than before. The heater seemed less warm and more heavy than it had ten minutes ago. Her feet felt like iron blocks. 

Despite Starscream’s dragging feet, they reached the main hangar without much difficulty. With a heave, Optimus pushed the double doors aside and let the fading light shine upon a large object, encased in ice.

All three approached it, the metal of their feet clanking softly in the quiet. 

Nova, too short to see, could only spot a little piece of metal that protruded from the thing. 

“What is it?” she asked, trying to stand on her tiptoes.

“The relic remains frozen in the ice,” Optimus replied. He didn’t know either.

Starscream reached for the block with greedy hands, but before he could lay a finger on it, a loud voice rang out from behind them.

“I knew you had questionable honor, Starscream,” Dreadwing said, coming into view of the doors with his gun slung over his shoulder. 

“But aiding the Autobots,” he chastised, his voice dripping with disgust. “That is a capital offense.”

“What? But I— I —” Starscream squeaked, scrambling for a response. “I left … tracks for you! On purpose! So you could rescue me from my captor!”

Nova rolled her eyes.

Optimus stepped forward.

“Dreadwing, I cannot allow you to leave here with this relic,” he declared. 

Nova felt it again; that same grim determination trailing behind his words. He was preparing himself for something he did not want to do, as if the prospect of fighting the Seeker saddened him.  

Why does he care so much?

“I know that, Prime,” Dreadwing said, and from the look in his eyes, he meant it. “But I do not intend to give you a choice.”

He leveled his gun at Optimus.

With a yell, Optimus charged out of the hangar and straight into Dreadwing’s body, bowling him over and sending his gun skittering across the ice. The two of them were on their feet and within punching distance in an instant, their blows echoing beyond the hangar.

Nova looked out at them, her arms folded tightly into her chest as she shivered.

Optimus will be all right, she told herself, her armor rattling. Optimus is strong.

Deeply focused on her guardian, the half-spark barely heard Starscream’s musing “hmm…” and his footsteps as he approached the relic. 

But at the first strike of his cuffs against the ice, she snapped around.

“Hey!" she yelled. “Leave that alone!”

Unheeding, Starscream kept slamming his hands into the ice, shards of glassy shrapnel flying everywhere. As he began to crack the ice’s layers, he began to chuckle in hysterical glee. 

He’s going to take it. 

I don’t know what that thing can do. 

I can’t let him have it. 

Nova marched up to him and drove her fist into his shin as hard as she could. If her fingers had not been numb, they would have hurt terribly. As it was, she only felt a dull ache, and her arm glanced off, shearing sparks onto the floor. 

“What the—” Starscream glared down at her in rage, and Nova stared up at him. Despite her best efforts, Nova’s legs trembled, and not just from the cold.

Perceiving her weakness, Starscream’s expression changed.

“Well, well, well,” he smirked, reaching out and snapping her up in his hand before she could move. 

He raised her up to eye level, paying no attention to her cries.

“Is somebody cold?” he growled in a mocking whisper.

“Put me down!” Nova snarled, scrabbling at his fingers uselessly. Her shivering body had absolutely no strength left.

“Look at you, ready to fight me all by yourself,” he sighed. “I would congratulate you on your bravery, but you see…” he squeezed his talons around her little form, “You are so much weaker than I, and you don’t even have your guardian to protect you anymore.” 

He chuckled. “How very foolish of you.”

Blaster. Gotta use my blaster.

“I could end your pathetic little life right here and now … and dear Optimus would be absolutely helpless to save you,” he grinned, enjoying the terror in her eyes. “Yes, that would hurt you both very deeply, wouldn’t it?”

Nova gasped for air as he squeezed his fist around her. The thermal box began to dig painfully into her back. She gritted her teeth, curling forward in his hand. 

“Although, keeping your wretched little Spark beating would have its advantages,” he purred, curling a talon under her chin. “I can just imagine how pleased Megatron would be if I captured you — the human who stole the Spark of Optimus Prime.”

Nova shot him in the face.

Starscream dropped her. “Augh! Little wretch—!”

She hit the ground with a thud.

“Augh!” she groaned, rolling over and clutching her chest. “Augh…guh…”

Starscream’s foot was swinging back. Dazed from the impact, her eyes struggling to focus on the leg sweeping toward her, Nova tried to drag herself away, but she moved sluggishly, painfully, not fast enough.

Starscream kicked her across the room.

Nova flew into the air for a splintered, weightless second, and then her body smacked against the wall -- hard. There was a sickening sort of crack, and then she was on the floor again, her arms and legs sprawled out at crazy angles. It did not matter much, she couldn’t really feel her limbs anymore.

But she could still feel the dull pain throbbing in her ribs, her back, her head — oh her head!

Nova was dimly aware of a hissing noise coming from the shattered device on her back. The last remnants of its heat were fading away. Was it broken?

Maybe I should check.

But she could not move for some reason, no matter how much she thought about it. Her body felt so numb. So tired.

It would be so much easier just … just to lay down right here, and shut her eyes for a minute.

Just for a minute…

Nova put down her whirling head, succumbing to her fatigue, her labored breaths slowing. The metal of the floor raked softly across her helmet as her head rolled.

So cold… so tired …

But … Optimus said to stay awake…

My eyes … so heavy …

She heard Starscream’s voice cutting into her thoughts.

“Not even worth my time,” Starscream growled, turning away from her and approaching the relic. “Humans. So easy to kill.”

No longer shivering, Nova watched silently through half-shut eyes as Starscream began to slam his fists on the relic again. Over, and over, and over…

He’s getting away…

Have … to … stop him …

The fog in her visor mixed with the darkness as she finally fell asleep.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

On the ground, held beneath Dreadwing’s sword, Optimus suddenly felt something horrible enter his Spark. 

Being new to this, Optimus had no idea if that was normal; he only knew that something was wrong. It was as though Nova’s side of the bond was slowly becoming numb. Growing cold. Fading away. It was worse than pain, it was just … a gentle, creeping, crawling nothing.

She was in trouble.

And he hated it.

“Nova…” he growled, trying to get up. He had to get back. He had to save her --

But suddenly, before either warrior could make any move, there was a resounding crash of shattering metal as something burst from the warehouse and slammed into the ice before them.

Starscream. Standing taller than Optimus had ever seen him, the Seeker was clad in a full-body suit of metal that the former archivist recognized, with a chilling sense of dread.

“The Apex Armor,” he ground out, staring wearily at the newly-indestructible Seeker. Optimus had never encountered the relic himself, but from the legends and annals of the Hall of Records, he knew that no one stood a chance against the Apex Armor, especially if someone like Starscream was wearing it.

“A perfect fit,” the Seeker said, smirking down at them.

Optimus began to wonder how he was going to get out of this. Even if he made it past Dreadwing, Starscream was out for his blood and was now invincible. There seemed to be no way to get out of this situation alive.

Unless…

His gears shifting unevenly in the cold, Optimus got to his feet, standing a little lopsided. This day had taken a lot out of him, and Nova’s numbness didn’t help anything. He was exhausted.

Dreadwing whipped his sword around and pointed it at Starscream.

“You dare to claim that which rightfully belongs to Lord Megatron?!” he demanded, dipping into a fighting stance.

Optimus was just focused on staying upright. So far, he was doing pretty well.

Starscream just laughed. “And what do you intend to do about it, Commander?”

He raised his now-ginormous fists in the manner of someone who has absolutely no fear, and thus, strikes fear in everyone else.

Enraged, Dreadwing charged at him, striking a heavy blow on the Apex Armor’s chest, but to his surprise, and horror, his sword glanced off uselessly. 

How could this be? Such a blow would have killed a Prime!

Starscream laughed again, louder, brushing his chest off as if flicking away dust. He backhanded Dreadwing before the latter could even raise his sword, and he went flying, crashing into the ice several feet away with his sword rattling to a stop beside him.

“Not so big and strong now, are you?!” Starscream yelled. He clenched his fists and chuckled with glee, intoxicated with power. “I haven’t had this much fun since I punched that hole in Cliffjumper!”

Stooping, he lifted one of the excavation vehicles that lay nearby and swung it over his head as though it were a bag of feathers, turning to throw it at Dreadwing. “Allow me to reunite you with your beloved twin!”

Optimus charged into the Decepticon’s back, throwing him off balance and sending the projectile crashing to the ground, a few inches from where Dreadwing lay. RecoveringDreadwing grabbed his sword and swung his astonished gaze back to the Prime as he fought against someone he had absolutely no chance against.

The Prime had saved his life? Why?

Optimus’ fist slammed into Starscream’s hand, and his eyes widened as the Seeker grabbed onto it, his augmented grip becoming more painful by the second. He couldn’t break free. The Armor was too strong—

“And you,” Starscream hissed, bearing down on the Prime with his fist in hand. “Optimus Prime…”

Optimus grunted in pain as Starscream bent his fist back, using the leverage to push the Prime to one knee. Struggling, Optimus reached up, trying to pry Starscream’s fist away from his hand, but the Seeker easily subdued his efforts, crushing his fist tighter in his vice-like fingers. 

Prime groaned, his body trembling under the strain, and the words of Starscream came dimly to his audials.

“I will beat the living Spark out of you,” he growled. “Just so I never again have to endure your pontificating!”

Effortlessly, he snapped Optimus’ body around and swung him into a pile of storage containers that stood nearby. Optimus cried aloud as he crashed full force into the boxes, hitting the ground and wincing at the sensation of his metal screeching on the ice.

He was certain Starscream would be right on top of him in an instant, but suddenly, the sound of Dreadwing’s cannon blasts came to his ears. 

Optimus raised his head a little. Sure enough, red lasers were slamming into Starscream’s armored shoulders, one after another. Dreadwing was trying to beat the Seeker back.

Optimus knew that neither of them stood a chance alone. He would have to appeal to Dreadwing’s reason, offer him aid, or else they would all die in the snow. Starscream would roam the Earth, invincible. 

And Nova would never make it home.

A needling set of doubts pricked at Optimus’ dazed mind. What if Dreadwing did not care for his plight? What if he just flew away? What if, instead of uniting with him, Dreadwing decided to kill Optimus first, and then went after Nova?

Those were risks he would just have to take.

Optimus took a second to breathe, and then got back up. But Starscream had apparently gotten his hands on Dreadwing as well, and had tossed him over to where Optimus now stood. The blue Seeker hit the boxes next to Optimus with a crash, but he was on his feet in an instant, shaking his head dazedly as he clipped his sword back into its holster.

Optimus kept his eyes on Starscream, his fists raised, but spoke quietly to the Seeker beside him.

“Dreadwing, our battle remains unfinished,” he said, glancing at him once. “But if we do not unite against our common foe—”

“Starscream will destroy us both,” Dreadwing finished.

Excellent. He understood.

Now, they just had to win.

Chuckling with murderous glee, Starscream approached them, his large footsteps pounding in the snow. His gait was slow, unhurried, not because he was tired, but because he knew he could drag this out as long as he wanted. Starscream knew as well as they did — they did not stand any sort of chance.

“I will draw his attention,” Dreadwing said. Optimus felt him push a three-pronged grenade into his hand. 

He glanced at it briefly, then concealed it while Dreadwing leapt into the air and transformed, rocketing over Starscream’s head.

The armored traitor turned, grinning as he watched Dreadwing bank right and swing around for a firing run, peppering the ground with bullets as he streaked toward him.

But Starscream opened his arms to the bullets, and smiled.

And as Dreadwing swooped toward him, the Seeker charged, leaping forward, and smacked the Seeker out of the sky.

Dreadwing hit the ground nose-first, ice flying, his body knocked out of vehicle mode by the sheer impact of the crash. His limp form skidded to a stop, his eyes closed.

“Might beats flight,” Starscream gloated, approaching the Seeker again. But, with a yell, Optimus leapt onto his back before he could continue, pressing the grenade into his right shoulder as Starscream flailed about, trying to throw him off. Just as the grenade was secured to the armor, Optimus felt himself go flying as Starscream punched him away again. And again, for the third time that day, he felt his head hit the ground, hard.

He rolled forward, attempting to rise as Starscream advanced upon him. Behind the Seeker, Dreadwing had gotten to his feet, his detonator in his hand and a triumphant smile on his face.

“You shall be the one to join with the Allspark,” he said loudly, hitting the button on the detonator as Starscream turned to look at him.

The beeping of the live grenade rang out into the silence, and Starscream yelped in sudden terror. His faith in the armor had shattered, he had lost the use of his wings, and it seemed there was no easy escape from a terrible fiery fate. 

He flailed around, groping over his shoulder, trying to rip the grenade off, but it was too late. Optimus had placed it exactly where he could not reach.

Prime jumped out of the way, just in the nick of time.

The grenade exploded, sending sudden heat into Optimus’ frame as the bright red flames billowed out from the Seeker, instantly devouring him in a cloud of noise and smoke. The ice cracked beneath Optimus’ feet from the force of the explosion. Dreadwing and Optimus, on either side of the explosion, peered into the fire. That grenade was built to take out a fighter ship. Surely, it would have done the job.

But when the dust settled, and the smoke was swept away by the crisp, cold air, the evil laughter of Starscream rang out again. He laughed, loudly, his armored shoulders bobbing in the cloud of smoke. Optimus felt his Spark sink a little.

“AHAHAHAHA! That tickled!” Starscream shouted. His laughter became more maniacal, as though he was realizing, for the first time, that he actually could not be killed.

“Fools!” he roared finally, facing them with clenched fists. “Not only am I intelligent, I am invincible!”

“Yet, you cannot fly!” Optimus reminded him, looking at Dreadwing as he said so. That might be the one weakness they could exploit.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Starscream smiled, turning to him. Optimus could see his face reflected in the pristine armor as Starscream lumbered over to him. But, he stood his ground, staring up at Starscream with unyielding vehemence. He had to keep him busy while Dreadwing acted on their idea.

Starscream towered over him, his red eyes gleaming from beneath the armor as he leered down at the Prime. Optimus clenched his fists, readying himself. This would probably hurt.

“Now,” said Starscream, lifting his arm to look it over pridefully. “Tell me of the other three relics. Are they as powerful as my shiny new armor?”

He backhanded the Prime, sending him spinning backward. Optimus' eyes flickered out for a second from the impact, but the pain hadn’t kicked in yet. Bless the cold.

Optimus stumbled away, narrowly missing the wall of the hangar — the hangar where Nova is — but he stood upright once again, glaring at Starscream.

“They were hidden away precisely to keep them from the hands of those like you,” he said, bringing up his fists.

Starscream brought down a heavy arm, which took all of Optimus’ strength to block, and the Prime set upon him with all the force he had, bringing his strongest blows to bear on the exact center of the armor. It was like punching a mountain of steel.

Optimus found himself backpedaling as Starscream stepped forward, despite his efforts to make a dent in the armor.

“He is far too powerful, Prime!” Dreadwing’s voice roared from the other side of the yard. “Fall back!”

That was the signal.

Optimus turned and transformed, speeding around Starscream and heading for the Seeker on the other side of the circle. He transformed and landed next to Dreadwing, waiting for Starscream to come closer.

“Cowards!” Starscream hissed, approaching them again.

They were just looking at him. Did they honestly think they stood a chance?

“You will not escape my might!” he roared, grinning. Then, his thoughts kicked in, and his grin disappeared as he looked at them.

“Wait,” Starscream said, as the realization dawned on him. “You two are up to something.”

In response, Dreadwing flipped open his detonator again, and pressed the button, glaring the traitor dead in the eyes.

Beep beep beep

beep beep beep

beep beep beep

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The lights of six grenades, planted in a circle around him, blinked out in front of Starscream’s terrified face.

The next microsecond, they exploded as one, shaking the cliffs with their roars. Optimus and Dreadwing were sent hurtling across the ice field … and it was then that Starscream paid for his pride.

The tortured ice cracked, groaned, and gave way beneath Starscream’s feet, and, with a horrible cry, the Seeker fell into the depths of the cold, cold sea, his screams echoing in the shattered remains of the ground.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

A gaping, black hole remained where the invincible Seeker had been. Optimus came to look down into its depths, unsure if Starscream would have found a way out.

But there was no sign of him. All Optimus could see was the darkness, and all he could hear were the remnants of the ice, snapping in the wake of the fire.

Behind him, Dreadwing drew his sword.

“Now that our alliance has served its purpose…” he said, sweeping the sword out to attack. The unfinished part of his sentence was made clear by the look in his eyes.

“Starscream is gone, and the Apex Armor with him,” Optimus rejoined, drawing one of his swords as he met Dreadwing’s gaze. He held out an entreating hand as they stared one another down. “Is there really a need to renew battle, when the goal has been lost?”

“We have other unfinished matters,” Dreadwing said, his low voice dripping with hate.

Optimus understood. He put his sword away and removed his mask, standing before him without threat. 

“I bore Skyquake no malice, and I regret the role I played in his demise,” he said. “So I will appeal to you as I once did your twin: turn your back on the Decepticon cause, and help me end this war … for his sake, and for all who have fallen.”

Dreadwing gritted his teeth, staring at Optimus.

Then, spinning his sword in a way that meant I could kill you where you stand, if I so chose, he put his weapon away. Then, he stepped toward the Prime.

“You saved my life today,” he said begrudgingly. “I will terminate you… the next time we meet.”

With that, he stepped past him and transformed, the sound of his jets fading away as Optimus stood alone, contemplating this response.

“So be it, Dreadwing,” he said finally, a hint of regret in his voice. He still held to the idea that there was a potential for change in every Cybertronian, whatever their allegiance. Ratchet seemed to think this was a fantasy. But, so long as he had the strength, Optimus swore he would continue to hold on to that fantasy; to give everyone a chance to change.

The sky flared with violet and blue and green, the phenomenon that humans so often called aurora borealis.

Humans. Nova.

Oh, no.

Optimus skirted the edge of the gaping chasm into which Starscream had fallen, and ducked into the hangar again, gazing into the darkness with sudden terror gripping his Spark. What if she was already gone?

No, she was alive. The bond was still there, but still numb. That did not soothe his apprehensions in the least.

He began to shove boxes aside, looking for the half-spark. “Nova? Nova! Where are you?”

A very soft noise came from the base of the furthest wall.

Optimus spotted her, curled up on the ground between some crates, her face turned into the floor. She was no longer shivering.

He picked her up in his hands. “Nova! Speak to me.”

Her body felt stiff in his hands, as though her joints had frozen completely, but she made an effort to turn her head to look at him.

“Optimus?”

“Yes. I’m here,” Optimus said, sitting against the wall with the half-spark in his hands. “I have you.”

“I’m … sorry,” she whispered. Her voice was so small. “I ... I tried to stop him—”

“Did he hurt you?”

“A little,” she mumbled. “But … I’m okay…”

A little. If he had known Starscream had harmed her, he would have done more than sink him in a hole. 

Looking her over, Optimus tried to contact the others. There was no response.

“Talk to me,” he said to the girl, more sharply.

“Tired,” Nova murmured, her eyes closing.

“Stay awake,” Optimus ordered, jostling her a little. “Do you hear me?”

She just looked at him.

“It’s okay,” Nova said, looking up at him. 

She was happy; Optimus could feel it. She was glad about something. He had never felt such peace from her; never. 

“It’s okay,” she smiled. “I’m not … so cold anymore.”

Oh, no.

Hypothermia.

He cradled her in his hands, pressing her to his chest. The way his Spark was running, it had to be warmer there.

Her breaths were shallow, her shivering so faint as to be nearly imperceptible. That wasn’t good.

Optimus stifled his panic — he hadn’t panicked in a long time — and contacted base again.

“Ratchet?” he demanded. “We need an emergency Groundbridge.”

Static.

“Rafael? Agent Fowler? Someone, please…” his voice wavered. “Please…”

“S’matter?” Nova sighed, her voice slurred in her frozen lips. “You’re really sad. Kinda … hurts…” her voice drifted away.

“Talk!” Optimus ordered, startling her awake again. “Keep talking to me!"

Nova blinked up at him sleepily. “Are you scared?”

“I want you to stay awake. Do you understand?”

“Never felt you … get scared before,” she mumbled, closing her eyes. “Don’ … like it…”

“Keep talking!” he said roughly.

Nova sighed in weariness, her eyes struggling to open.

She will be all right, Optimus told himself. She is strong.

But, despite his efforts to pretend otherwise, Optimus found himself believing that this was the last time she would ever talk to him. He felt the intensity of Nova’s Spark beginning to ebb, drifting away from his own with terrible, gentle slowness.

He had felt this way before, in the depths of Unicron, and after she was injured by Cylas, and when she was debilitated by her own cyber-magnetic pulse, and he always hated it, but he never had to feel her Spark through any of that. This time, it was different, and it was slow. This would hurt so much more than any other way.

“Nova…” he said under his breath. “I am so sorry…”

This was it. She was actually going to die. After all this time, after all they had been through, he was going to lose her to the cold.

He contacted the base one more time. “I need a Groundbridge!”

There was no answer.

“Hey,” Nova said.

Optimus looked at her. “What?”

She paused. “Why are you scared?”

Instead of responding, Optimus looked down at her, gazing at the Autobot sigil etched into her armor. The sorrow he felt at seeing it on her body cut deeper into his Spark than ever before.

“You should never have had to wear this,” he said, his voice filled with pain as he touched the symbol.

"Why not?”

The sadness intensified, and Nova took in a short breath. Optimus closed his eyes.

“I wanted to protect you from war,” he said quietly. “I should have kept you away from all this.”

“But…” Nova said forlornly. “Don’t you … want me to stay?”

He sighed. “Of course I do.”

“Oh, good,” she sighed. “If I live, I get to stay with you …” she looked up at the hole in the ceiling, the colored lights drifting across her face. “…and if I die, I get to see Coby again.”

Resigning a little, Optimus held her close. He was thinking some very dangerous things, but at least it was keeping her awake.

The commlink crackled to life, making his Spark leap.

“Prime?!” Fowler barked in his ear.

Something was wrong. Fowler never sounded that worried unless it was really serious.

“Agent Fowler?” Optimus asked. “What is wrong?”

“We need you back at base. We have a situation. I hope you’re ready for pickup.”

The commlink clicked off, and Optimus got to his feet, the half-spark in his hands.

The Groundbridge burst into the air a few feet outside the hangar, and Optimus strode toward it.

“We are going home,” he said to her as they walked out into the freezing cold once again.

Nova didn’t say anything. She had fallen asleep.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

The first thing Optimus saw as he walked into the base was the stiff, silent form of Bulkhead, lying on the medical table and hooked up to life support. Ratchet was beside him, making adjustments. The medic was running around in full-blown “emergency” mode, and Optimus knew from a glance that there would be no help for Nova there.

Arcee was there to greet him as he came through.

“Optimus—”

“What happened?” Optimus asked, his gaze shifting from the table to her face.

“Bulkhead got hit pretty hard,” Arcee said, her voice low. “Fowler told us that the relic he found was Tox-En.”

Optimus frowned as the words sank in.

Tox-En was the most poisonous Energon variant, second only perhaps to Dark Energon, and even that was preferable in most cases. Tox-En drained the life and energy out of a Cybertronian body, acting as a slow, rotting cancer that would lead to a paralyzing shutdown before finally extinguishing the Spark.

“He was carrying it up a volcano, and fighting off Insecticons along the way,” Arcee continued. “Ratchet said he’s got a lot of internal injuries, aggravated by the Tox.”

Optimus looked again at the medibay. “Is he stable?”

Arcee shook her head. “We’re not sure.”

With a nod of thanks, Optimus approached the table. Ratchet turned to look at him as he approached, pausing in his preparations.

“What happened to her?” he asked, seeing the look in Optimus’ face. “Don’t tell me she’s—”

Optimus opened his hands, showing him the frozen girl. Now that she was in a natural light, he could see that her armor was caked with now-glistening ice, and her face was tinged with blue.

“The thermal device was damaged,” he said. 

“Let’s talk about this over here,” Ratchet said, glancing back at the others surrounding the medical table. Bulkhead’s pulse monitors beeped quietly in the heavy silence. Too slow. Too faint.

Miko was distraught. The fact that the girl was making little to no noise meant that something was wrong. She just stood there, looking — glaring — at Bulkhead, as though willing him to get up. No one seemed to know what to say. The monitors said it all.

They didn’t need another emergency right now.

Pulling Optimus into the rear hallways, the medic finally reached for the girl. “Give her here.”

Reluctantly, the Prime let the medic take her from his hands. 

With the deftness of a long-time war physician, Ratchet pressed a hand into her spine, triggering her armor’s deactivation. It parted sluggishly, hindered by the thawing frost. Underneath, Nova’s clothes were drenched with sweat and melted ice. Quickly, Ratchet opened up his scanner and ran it over the stiffened half-spark, taking note of her core temperature, her pulse, her breathing.

“Hypothermia,” he said at last, closing the scanner. “Her pulse rate is unnaturally low. She’s sustained some faint bruising, too, but that should clear up. How long ago did the device break?”

Optimus thought. “No more than an hour.”

“An hour’s enough. Her core temperature is already below 90. Even for humans, that is severe, but a Cybertronian Spark is supposed to run hot.” He began to walk away. “I need to find dry clothes for her. And blankets. Give me a moment.”

Optimus watched him go, a mixture of shock and worry and despair roiling in his Spark.

A few minutes later, Ratchet returned, with Nova in tow. He had dressed her in some of the old military clothes they had in the back of the base, and then wrapped her in all the blankets and towels he could find.

“Here,” he said, handing the bundle to Optimus.

“What do I do?” he asked.

Ratchet pushed her into his hands. “Just … hold her.”

Optimus took her gingerly.

“There’s not a lot you can do for her when she’s that cold,” Ratchet explained. “Give it some time, and be gentle. Keep her quiet until she gets back to a normal temperature again.”

Optimus looked down at the swaddled human, her disheveled, pale face sticking out one side. She looked so tired. 

Muffled noises of the team talking to one another filtered in from outside, as if they were trying to comfort one another with some sort of conversation.

“Ratchet?” Optimus asked, staring at the girl. “There was a moment that I could read her thoughts — when I was near to unconsciousness.”

“Not surprising, given the circumstances,” Ratchet nodded.

“What is going to happen when she falls asleep tonight?”

Ratchet sighed. “Well, I’m no mnemosurgeon, but I know that brain activity is heightened when you are in recharge. You two may occasionally share dreams, which might be…” he paused, glancing at him. “Troubling.”

Optimus nodded slowly. There was a long, somber silence, which Ratchet broke.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the medic said.

“What?”

“You’ve always been the strong one. You always take on the weight of war so that the others don’t have to. You let them have fun and be happy and yell and grieve and have normal lives. I have never seen you stop to do that yourself. Not since Elita died.”

Optimus closed his eyes.

“You’re serious and stoic so they don’t have to be,” said Ratchet, looking at Optimus steadily. “But I know that, deep down inside, in a very small corner of your Spark, you still are Orion Pax. It’s a hidden place you go to when you’re alone, when you don’t want anyone else to hear, because you feel like you are only allowed to grieve alone. And now you're never alone, and you don’t like it.”

Optimus said nothing.

“But you have to listen to me when I say this, Optimus,” Ratchet continued. “You can trust her.”

“I do trust her.”

“No, you don’t,” Ratchet scoffed. “You love her; you’ll do anything in the world for her, but you don’t trust her. Or us.”

The Prime frowned a little.

“You both have to trust each other all the way,” said Ratchet gently. “That’s how a bond works.”

Optimus looked up at the medic, then down at his hands. “I do not think she is ready for … everything I am,” he murmured. “I do not want to give that to her.”

“Of course you don’t,” said Ratchet, folding his arms. “But Nova has the same problem. She’s afraid that if she trusts you all the way, you’ll abandon her. She has trouble believing that someone will accept her even after they see how weak she really is.” Ratchet leaned in. “Sound familiar?”

The Prime refused to meet his eyes.

“Orion Pax wasn’t a warrior, was he?” Ratchet continued. “No. He was dragged very suddenly into a war he didn’t start. Since then, he’s learned that people depend on him to be above fear, and if he even shows a little bit of hesitation, they will fall apart. He has to keep it all in — because he knows that’s the only way they can keep going.”

Optimus was very quiet.

“Nova wasn’t a warrior either,” Ratchet pointed out. “She’s just a little girl.”

“I know.” Optimus straightened, taking a breath. “You are right.”

Another moment of silence passed as both mechs stared at the half-spark. Over time, her pale skin had developed a flush of color, and her body had begun to shiver again as her frozen muscles loosened. 

“She should wake up soon,” Ratchet sighed, putting a hand to his face. “She’ll be all right.” 

His voice was heavy with weariness.

“Are you all right?” Optimus asked.

“Of course! I’m fine,” Ratchet growled, waving him off. For the first time since returning to base, he was faltering. 

Optimus gave him a long stare, one which the medic refused to return. His normally stubborn facade was wavering before Optimus’ very eyes, and at that point he was too tired to hide it. 

“Bulkhead is in the very best of hands,” Optimus said softly. The words seemed to have a great effect on the medic, and he clenched his fists grimly as he looked at the floor. 

“What if,” he murmured. “I can’t fix it this time?”

“I believe you can.”

“But what if I can’t?!” Ratchet demanded, throwing out a hand as he met Optimus’ eyes. “Do you know what those savages did to Bulkhead back there? I have no guarantee he will get off that slab! What if he’s too far gone? What if I try everything, and he still dies?”

“Then we will be proud,” Optimus replied, placing a hand on his shoulder, “To have a medic who chose to defend the life of his patient until the very end.”

Abruptly, Ratchet let out his breath in a huff, and his eyes went from wild to calm as he took in his leader’s words. 

“And … that’s what matters, isn’t it?” he asked under his breath. “Even if my best is not good enough, I must still try.”

“No matter the outcome, old friend," Optimus reminded gently, “Remember that you will go forward with all of us behind you.”

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Chapter Text

Nova woke up slowly, to the feeling of something warm around her. She suddenly realized that her arms were pinned to her sides, and for a brief instant, she felt a sudden terror, but then she heard Optimus' low voice as he conversed with someone, and her heart was put at ease.

She opened her eyes. Her body was wrapped in what looked like a mountain of blankets, and a quick sideways glance revealed that she was far above the floor, held securely in her guardian’s hands.

“You had us worried,” Ratchet said softly, drawing her attention.

They were in the storage halls, walking toward the main room. Nova raised her head to look at Optimus, shrugging a few of the blankets off so she could free her arms.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Starscream escaped with the Apex Armor,” Optimus said. “And we returned to base a few hours ago. You have been unconscious for some time.”

“What happened to the other relics?” Nova asked, wriggling further out of the blankets as they returned to the main room. “Did the others come back — oh no!” she gasped, catching sight of Bulkhead. 

The Wrecker was laid flat out on the medical slab, eyes closed, body stilled. If not for the steady beep of the Spark rate monitor by the side of the bed, one could have taken Bulkhead for a corpse.

Miko was huddled in a ball at the top of the stairs. Nova winced a little as she watched the girl cry. She knew how she would have felt were Optimus in Bulkhead’s position.

“Bulkhead was hit pretty hard,” Arcee explained to the half-spark. “He’s been exposed to Tox-En, and shot in the back by an Insecticon.”

“But —” Nova stammered. “But how? Didn’t he have any help?”

“The rest of the Bots were deployed,” Fowler said. “I was able to get him through most of the mission with pep talk, but just as he was about to get through the bridge…” he shook his head.

Nova looked at the comatose Bulkhead on the medical slab. “Is he going to be okay?”

No one responded.

A buzzing came from Fowler’s pocket.

“I gotta take this,” he said, pulling out his phone reluctantly.

As Fowler talked, Nova huddled back into the blankets in Optimus’ hands. The half-spark was still shaking, and her dazed mind could barely register Optimus’ somber Spark above the swirling of her own.

“How bad is it?” she whispered. 

Optimus just shook his head slowly. The silence from Ratchet paired with the pinched look in his eyes told her more than enough. Nova’s heart sank a little more. Bulkhead was not guaranteed life for very much longer. 

“Yes, sir,” Fowler finished finally, putting the phone away.

“Turns out, highlights of your Big Apple adventure got caught on security tape,” he said to the others, his hollow voice carrying less anger than it normally did when they slipped up in the field. “The Pentagon needs me to run interference with the mayor.”

Nobody really answered. Ratchet was busy adjusting vitals, and the rest were all staring at Bulkhead, their grief permeating the room.

The agent stared woefully at the Wrecker, too. “I tried to stall, but—”

“Go where you are needed, Agent Fowler,” Optimus interrupted calmly. “There is nothing more you can do for Bulkhead at this time.”

“Keep me posted, Prime,” Fowler asked, turning towards the elevator. “I mean it.”

The doors shut on his weary face, and the elevator groaned as it carried its regular passenger up to the helicopter pad on the surface.

“Wheeljack’s on his way,” Arcee reported from the computer.

Nova’s heart sank a little more. If they had called in Bulkhead’s best friend for this, it was serious.

Miko shared the same sentiment. With a growl, she stood up and slapped her hands on the railing. “I can’t believe you’re giving up on Bulkhead already!”

“All I meant was, Wheeljack and Bulkhead are close,” Arcee said, too calmly. “I thought he’d wanna be here.”

"I know what you meant, “ Miko snapped, whirling around and heading toward the elevator.

“Miko,” Optimus said sternly. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” she fired back, her hair-tail flicking between her shoulder blades. “While Agent Fowler can still give me a lift.”

The elevator doors closed over her tear-stained, angered glare. 

Arcee sighed, and made a move to go after her, but Optimus placed his large hand on her shoulder.

“She needs time,” he said gently.

The beeping of the monitors filled the silence for a moment, before Ratchet let out a weary sigh.

“Bulkhead is stable, for the moment,” he reported, relieving some of the weight everyone felt. “But I’ve had to induce stasis.”

A sudden approach of a vehicle met their ears, and everyone turned to watch Wheeljack as he sped through the entrance tunnel and transformed, his winglets locking into place with a curt click as he laid eyes on his partner.

He wasted no words. “What’s the damage, Doc?”

“Bulkhead suffered massive trauma to his central neural conduit,” Ratchet explained, his exasperation giving an edge to his voice.

"I've seen you work,” Wheeljack said, almost pleadingly, “You’re a maestro.”

“The Tox-En exposure has caused system-wide shutdown on a sub-micronic level,” replied the medic. “I can't even begin to operate until Bulkhead regains some strength.”

Wheeljack was angry. The scary part about this Wrecker, and what made him so different from Bulkhead, was that his anger was of a more quiet variety, and he usually reserved his yelling and screaming until he could plant explosives in the people responsible.

“You gonna tell me who did this to him?” Wheeljack asked Optimus lowly, with a look in his eyes that Nova knew well. 

But Optimus knew what the Wrecker was after.

“At the moment,” the Prime suggested, with the same calm sternness he had when he “suggested” anything. “I believe it is best to focus our attention on Bulkhead's recovery, rather than revenge.”

Wheeljack passed a glance back at his friend lying on the table.

“You do that,” he said shortly.
Without another word, he transformed and sped out of the tunnel, his hyper-active engine fading in the distance.

From Optimus’ elbow, Ratchet said gravely, “Wheeljack will most likely do something rash, you know.”

“And I do not think we could stop him if we wanted to,” Optimus replied. 

He understood Wheeljack’s desire to avenge his comrade. The Prime had felt that overpowering desire himself; many times over, and from experience he knew that standing in the way of a grieving warrior would only delay his wrath, and perhaps expand it. Like Miko, he needed time.

“We’re running low on our reserves,” Arcee said finally, breaking the silence. “Bulk’s life support is taking up a lot of fuel.”

“We have been pursuing the Iacon relics for so long, we have neglected to keep our stores at full capacity,” agreed the medic.

Bumblebee raised his hand, offering to go scout.

“I will go,” Optimus agreed. His trailer could hold more Energon than anyone else could carry on their own.

“Take me along?” Nova asked. “I promise I won’t freeze to death this time."

Optimus nodded. “Very well.”

“Don’t you think it would be a better idea to stay here and decode that database Raf downloaded?” Arcee asked.

“Bulkhead’s recovery takes priority,” Optimus answered.

“And besides, the Iacon files have not completely transferred to our central computer,” denied Ratchet. “It may take the rest of the day to recover all the information.”

With a sigh, Arcee moved toward the Groundbridge controls.

“Well, sectors nine and twelve are probably our best bets,” she said doubtfully, opening the Groundbridge. “But we’ve not been detecting any large Energon spikes recently.”

Bumblebee bounced on his toes and transformed, driving through the bridge to sector nine. Once Arcee had set it up for sector twelve, Optimus approached the bridge with Nova in tow.

“Contact us if anything changes,” Optimus told Ratchet, who nodded quietly.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Minutes later, Optimus was walking through a rocky field, scanner in hand, with Nova by his side. This place was shrouded in the shadows of night, but the stars twinkled merrily in the dark sky, and golden-green fireflies drifted lazily about, flitting among the trees.

Nova ran ahead, trying to catch one, and Optimus pointed the scanner toward the faint Energon signal.

“Hm,” he said, shaking the scanner a little. Odd.

“What’s up?” Nova asked, peering at the blinking insect in her cupped hands.

“There is another signal,” Optimus replied, pointing south. “A short distance in that direction.”

“Is it large?”

He shook his head. “They are both substantial enough to warrant an investigation.”

“I’ll go get it,” she volunteered. “There’s not a lot of time, and Bulkhead needs that Energon.”

Optimus hesitated. She had a point, but…

“I do not think it wise for us to separate,” he replied. “It could be a trap.”

“It’ll be fine,” Nova said. “It’s not a heavy load. I’ll just go get it and meet you back here.”

Pressed for time, the Prime gave a slight nod.

“Contact me at the first sign of trouble,” he said, putting his scanner away and transforming.

“I will,” she called after the disappearing big rig.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Fireflies glowed in the dark, floating above the grass with cheerful beauty as the half-spark crept through the shadows, peering into the night.

Something felt wrong. This Energon signal just suddenly appeared out of nowhere, as if it had been waiting for their arrival, and despite her confidence around Optimus, Nova felt uneasy. Surprise Energon signals didn’t just happen.

But there it was, peeking out of the riverbed plain as day. The flowers around it glowed a pale blue in the night, drifting quietly in the light breeze. The river seemed to have been saturated with the mineral, and if Nova had been a scientist, she would have theorized that it was probably the most radioactive source of water in the world.

“Might as well, grab it,” she muttered, approaching the cluster of crystals. “Fuel is fuel.”

The Energon looked as hauntingly beautiful as ever, its gentle radiance pooling in a steady blue sheen on the dark grass.

Hard to believe this was the stuff that ruined my life, she thought, kneeling down and taking out her blade. Now it’s the stuff that keeps me alive.

She sighed as she cut through the first crystal. I wish—

Her thoughts were cut short by a loud pop from behind her.

Nova snapped around to face the threat, but the biting coils of the taser hit her chest before she could see who it was. 

The split second it took her to realize she was being electrocuted passed too quickly. The jolt slammed into her armor and filled her body with searing, spine-rending shock. White-hot needles crawled through her skin at the speed of light and shot into her feet.

Her eyes whirled up into the back of her head, and she let out a strangled groan through her gritted teeth. Her body stiffened, spasmed, swayed. 

She hit the ground hard, and it barely even registered.

“We got her, boys! Ready the helicopter!” a voice said above the popping static in her ears.

Nova knew that voice. Why did she know that voice?

Darkness swallowed her whole before she could think any more about it.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Nova woke to a bright light above her head, and a painful soreness in her body. She felt tight and stiff all over. Her ears were ringing loudly.

“Ugh,” she groaned, shutting her eyes.

Where am I?

She tried to get up, but her arms were stuck. Her feet, too.

Why are they stuck?

Nova realized, with a piercing sense of clarity, that she could not move, and then the surge of panic fueled her into a frenzy.

She strained against the things binding her to the table, but they would not budge. She growled, her panic racking up higher and higher, and her movements became more frantic.

A cry came out of her throat as she slammed her armor into the table, trying to dislodge herself. Nothing happened.

She huffed a sob, feeling very confused, and very frightened.

“Try not to scream,” a voice said, echoing around her. “It scares the roaches.”

Nova looked around, trying to determine the source, but the entire room was cast in darkness except for the table she lay upon, and the gloom obscured the voice.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded. “Who are you?”

“Who indeed?” the voice replied, and a figure emerged from the shadows. 

It was an old, wiry man, dressed in a lab coat and sporting a head of disheveled grey hair. He wore a crooked smile, and a pair of wild eyes gleamed above his sharp nose. Beneath the sleeve of his right arm, a metal appendage glinted in the harsh light.

“Arkeville!” Nova choked.

“Wow, first try!” he cheered wryly, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t miss a beat, do you?” 

He approached the table with the same sharp grin on his pasty face.“But why do you sound so angry? Aren’t you happy to see an old friend?”

“You were in prison!” Nova growled. “Fowler told me—”

“Oh, that. I got out of there ages ago.” Arkeville waved her off, still leering from the shadows. “More specifically, MECH got me out. Cylas still has plans for you, Subject Alpha.”

“Cylas…” Nova breathed.

Arkeville rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s what I said.”

“No…” She shook her head. “No. You — you’re lying. Cylas is dead.”

“Wrong!” Arkeville said cheerily. “My genius knows absolutely no bounds! I was able to bring him back from the brink of death, after he got a robot dropped on him. He’s even recovered enough to breathe on his own! Isn’t that wonderful?” He tilted his hand from side-to-side. “I mean, sure, he’s still in a coma, but we’re making progress!”

Nova said nothing. Her fists clenched until they trembled.

Taking advantage of her silence, Arkeville descended on the table and patted her head.

“But how is my little Frankenstein today?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Angered, Nova struggled against the clamps, but he just chuckled.

“Don’t waste your time,” he said. “Those are made of industrial-strength cybernetic alloy — the stuff we used to restrain the blue Decepticon. You couldn’t break those even on your best day.”

  Nova stopped her thrashing, breathing hard. He was right, and she was dizzy from her lack of strength.

“Why … did you bring me here, Arkeville?” she demanded, growling at him.

He steepled his fingers with a squint in her direction.

“I think you know the answer to that,” he grinned, raising a bushy eyebrow. “Or maybe you don’t. Maybe you’re stupid.”

Nova glowered at him.

“When the trap springs activated, I assumed we were going to go bag the big robot. The leader guy,” he frowned, flapping his hand in confusion. “Oh, you know the one. Blue head. Tall. Hero type.”

“Optimus,” Nova barked.

Arkeville snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes! Optimus. I expected him, you see. We were going to dismantle him for our latest project, but instead we found you poking around, and it made me very happy.”

He grinned at her, and Nova wanted to rip out her own eyes.

“Still so angry,” he tutted, laughing at her glare. “What is going on in that mechanical little mind of yours?”

“Let me out of this chair, and I’ll show you,” she growled.

He laughed aloud.

“Ah, ah, yes,” he nodded once he could catch his breath. “Revenge. You really want to kill me, don’t you?” 

"I am going to kill you."

Arkeville giggled again, shaking his head in sympathy. “Oh, I’m almost tempted to let you try.”

He leaned in close, and whispered in her ear, “But … what would dear Optimus think? Oh, he’d be so disappointed, wouldn’t he? Can you imagine what he would think if you killed someone — oh, wait…” he winced. “You don’t have to imagine, do you?”

Nova took in a shuddering breath.

“You monster,” she whispered.

“Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere, my dear.” With another pat on her head, Arkeville stood up and smiled at her. “Now, if this were a movie, I would take this time to tell you my whole evil plan, but that would be idiotic.” 

He jerked his head at the darkness. “Is the perimeter secure?”

“Yes, sir,” came a reply. For the first time, Nova noticed the ring of MECH agents standing guard around the room, hidden in shadows.

“Marvelous,” said Arkeville. “Then let’s get to work, shall we?”

He pulled a little cart closer to the slab. On it were some gleaming, sharpened tools, little blue vials, a pair of vinyl gloves … and a box of apple juice.

Nova’s anger suddenly evaporated at the sight of the tools, replaced with cold terror. 

Nonchalantly, as if he had all the time in the world, Arkeville picked up the box.

“Apple juice?” he asked, holding it out to her. 

Nova glared at him.

Arkeville shrugged. “Okay, fine. Looks like somebody’s too good for apple juice.”

He took a long slurp, staring her in the eyes.

Nova’s wrists clanged against the bars again as he put the juice down and reached for the instruments. “What are you doing?!”

“What I was trying to do last time, of course — before we were interrupted,” Arkeville said shortly, snapping a vinyl glove over his normal hand. “No visitors? That’s a shame. It’s nice to have someone visit you in the hospital.”

“Let me go!” she yelped, her voice hiking higher despite her anger. “Right now!”

“Sorry,” Arkeville said. “But we’re far from finished. MECH still needs a super-soldier in the ranks, and we’ve been rather short-staffed lately, if you know what I mean.”

He lifted his first tool, a scalpel. Nova’s eyes widened.

“Hm,” he hummed, pursing his lips. “Looks interesting. Maybe we could use it.”

His eyes shifted to her. 

She froze.

“Armor,” he ordered.

Nova swallowed.

“No,” she whimpered. “Don’t…”

He slammed his hands on the table, making her flinch. “Remove your armor, please.”

“No—”

The next instant, Nova felt the breath crushed in her throat as Arkeville’s metal hand snapped around her neck.

The blood-Energon pounded in her ears. She couldn’t rip away. She couldn’t even breathe. Her heart stuttered in her chest. Black spots swum before her eyes. She made a tiny sound as Arkeville lowered his head to her ear.

“You know, I didn’t have to say please,” he said with a horrible lack of emotion. “but I did, because I know my manners.”

His hand tightened around her throat, and she rose with it to meet his face as he looked her directly in the eyes. “Don’t make me forget them.”

“Nova!” Optimus’ voice shouted suddenly in her commlink. “Where are you? What is wrong?”

Nova thought she was going to die of relief. She had never been so happy to hear someone’s voice in her entire life.

Arkeville released her, and Nova fell back with a desperate gasp as he dug around in her ear and yanked out the little earpiece. Optimus’ sudden panic at her pain flared in her Spark like a tangible strobe light.

“Where are you?” Optimus demanded again. He was angry; worried about her. It stung, but she clung to the feeling as though it were life itself. She tried to breathe. Tried to call out.

“I didn’t know we had signal in here,” Arkeville said, as if he was curious about a new bug he had discovered.

“Nova?” Optimus asked. “What is your status? Are you hurt? Answer me!”

“He seems very fond of you,” Arkeville chuckled, hooking it up to a half-dismantled, portable speaker that was lying on the ground. “It’s disgustingly cute. You and your giant alien friend.”

The commlink buzzed in Arkeville’s hand as he connected it to the speaker, and then Optimus’ disembodied voice rang out into the room.

“Nova! Answer me!”

Nova’s wild eyes communicated more words and relief and terror than her entire vocal capacity ever could, but all she could get out was a weak sort of gurgling sob.

Arkeville pressed the button on the commlink, staring her in the eyes as he answered Optimus.

“I’m sorry, Nova can’t come to the phone right now. She’s having difficulty speaking.”

There was a sudden, deathly pause.

“Who,” said Optimus, “are you?”

Nova could feel his pure rage, gathering in her Spark like a thunderous storm, spreading dangerously throughout her dizzied mind as Arkeville chuckled.

“She hasn’t told you about me?” he said, shaking his head. “I’m wounded — truly, I am. My name is Doctor Arkeville! It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Arkeville,” Optimus growled, and Nova could tell he knew exactly who that was. “What have you done with Nova?”

“Nothing you need to know about,” Arkeville replied in an offended tone, rolling his eyes. “All these darn sales calls.”

“What do you want with her?”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Arkeville giggled. “I don’t want anything with her. I just want her. Totally and completely; mind, body, and soul. For science, of course.”

“Release her immediately,” Optimus ordered, “And you will be spared.”

“Is he … threatening me?” Arkeville asked Nova, pointing at the commlink skeptically. “It seems like he’s threatening me. Well, it’s too late, Mister Fatherly Alien Robot,” he continued in a merry voice. “I have your precious little freak show, and she’s not leaving until I’m done with her. Kapeesh?”

When Optimus spoke again, Nova was almost frightened. She had never, ever heard such absolute anger in his voice before.

“For your own sake,” he said. “Pray that I find her before I find you.”

“Whoops!” chuckled the doctor, rubbing the commlink against his scratchy lab coat. “Sorry, we’re having connection problems. Looks like this call is over. Ta-ta!”

“Arkeville!”

He crushed the commlink in his metal fingers, letting the fragments fall to the floor. Another sob choked Nova’s words as she watched it scatter before her eyes.

“Jam the signal,” the doctor barked.

“Yes, sir.”

“We won’t be hearing from him again,” said Arkeville, too cheerily. “Now, where were we?”

Nova just stared in hollow despair at the remains of her commlink, her last way to communicate with her guardian, broken in pieces on the floor.

Arkeville reached down and hoisted her head up in his hand again.

“Hmm,” he said. “Maybe you’ve already forgotten what I was just asking you to do.”

Nova sucked in a breath, her panic surging again at the feeling of his other hand on her throat.

“And since you were not responsive to the polite way of asking,” he said, reaching around to the back of her neck, “We’re going to have to try the impolite way.”

She felt the sting of an electric shock applied to the top of her spine, and with a deep shudder, her armor jerked apart, leaving her literally in the hands of the mad scientist.

“No—” she choked. “Let me go!”

“Still fighting,” he tutted. “Have you already forgotten how our last encounter ended?”

“I got away!” Nova snapped. “I got away, and I’m never going back!”

“Yes, you are,” he whispered, his calm voice the exact opposite of her own. “You belong to me. You always have.”

“No!” she yelled. “You imprisoned me! You poisoned me!”

“I made you,” he hissed. “I found you, raised you, trained you. Show a little gratitude.”

“I’m not a tool, Arkeville!” Nova seethed. “I’m a person, like you!”

“Like me?” Arkeville chuckled wryly. His voice became almost sardonically fond as he stroked her cheek. “Like me…”

Nova shuddered beneath his touch, clenching her jaw. Her roiling panic intensified Optimus’ white-hot anger, creating feedback in waves which began to warp her mind. He could sense every second of her discomfort, and he did not like it. 

“You know, I really have no idea what you are,” the doctor said softly, his gaze shifting between her eyes, one at a time. “We had been testing this Energon substance on specimens for years before you came along. All the other test subjects failed — old ones, young ones, females, males, dogs, cats, rats, bats — all failed. None of them could survive the Blueblood injections. But then we found you two. The twins.”

He smiled, as if gazing upon treasure. “We infused you with pure Energon, straight from the ground, and yet — nothing happened to you. No sickness, no radiation poisoning, no death. Sure, you got fevers when your exoskeletons grew stronger, but all in all it was …” he shook his head. “It was a miracle.”

It was a curse, Nova thought.

“You were the perfect specimens. Not because of your strength or intelligence — no. You had something in your bones that we had never even seen before.” He gave a happy sigh. “The day we found you was the day everything changed.”

“You didn’t find me,” Nova snarled. “You took me!”

“Oh.” Arkeville raised his eyebrows. “Still believe that old tale, do we?”

“My brother and I had a home — a family!” Nova growled, lurching against the cuffs. “You took everything from us!”

“Fascinating,” Arkeville said, steepling his fingers. “You really still think you had parents? Even after all this time?” 

“I had parents before you killed them!” yelled Nova, trying to drown out the jittery pounding of her heart.

Arkeville chuckled again -- that hideous, dry sound Nova so despised.

Clenching her fists, Nova stared at him. “What?”

“Oh, you don’t remember?” he said, stroking his chin. "The first day of your … incarceration, Cylas instructed that you be taken to the medical wing for conditioning.”

Nova squeezed her eyes shut. She remembered. 

“You tried to take them away from me,” she whispered. “You tried to remove my memories of them from the very first day.”

“You don’t get it!” Arkeville exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “Oh, how can you be so blind? I was not trying to take away memories of your past life, you idiot! I was trying to plant them!”

Nova gritted her teeth. Her breath stalled for a horrible, cold moment.

“Plant?” she huffed. 

“Of course!” Arkeville cried. “Think about it! Synthetic memories? Mental implantation? Half-organic alien? Hello?” 

He waved his hands gleefully. “It’s my entire modus operandi!”

Nova sucked in breath after breath, shaking her head as her thoughts clouded. “No… No! That’s not true! You killed them!”

“Nonsense,” Arkeville scoffed. “We didn’t kill your parents. How can you kill something that never existed?”

Eyes darting from one place to another, Nova growled, trying to think back. She grasped for anything she could remember about her past — family, friends, special places — and she came up empty every time. All the images she had clung to for the past five years were slipping through her desperate fingers. The shadows she thought were the faces of her parents swirled and changed like smoke; first they took one shape, now another. Their eyes, their hair, their smiles — all of it rippled away under devastating pebbles. 

“You’re lying,” she protested. “You — you’re lying! That can’t be true!” 

“Oh, pish-posh,” he tutted, swatting the air. “I was there. Five years ago, we were investigating an energy surge near our base. We thought that the military had discovered our organization. But instead of the army, we found something different in the smoldering crater: a pair of young humanoids with strange eyes and stoic faces… and extremely unconventional hearts. You were the total package, really — young, sentient, able to communicate, and emitting enough energy to power a suburban street!”

He chuckled, with another sip of his apple juice. “Unfortunately, you appeared to be stuck in factory settings. No identities whatsoever. A couple of amnesiac nobodies. Rather pathetic, really.” 

The table rocked slightly as Nova collapsed onto it. Nothing in her memory could deny what he was saying. Jaw slack, she stared at nothing, silence finally overtaking her frantic protests. Her stomach roiled beneath her whirling brain. She drew in shallow, quick gasps that passed too swiftly to notice. 

“No,” she murmured. “No…”

“We took you with us, of course,” continued the doctor. “It wouldn’t do to leave such a find in the middle of some field, would it? Being the first to discover alien life meant our research would shoot forward by leaps and bounds. And you know the best part?”

He leaned in, his breath brushing cold on her sweat-drenched jaw. “You were a totally blank slate.”

A crowd of tears began to pool in Nova’s eyes as she listened to him. 

“Cylas wanted a couple of supersoldiers, you see,” he continued, relishing her reaction to his tale. “He didn’t want a pair of mindless, emotionless drones. He wanted you to fight, and everyone knows a soldier fights longer when he has something to fight for.”

He leaned against the table, twisting a few rivets in his prosthetic. “I could do whatever I wanted to those malleable minds of yours. So, I gave you a motive, and I gave your brother a memory. Isn’t it just delicious? You would fear Cylas and become submissive out of fear; your brother, on the other hand, was given all the memories he needed to shift his hatred where I wanted it to go. And I wanted to see if I could make him hate you.” He wiggled his fingers with a ghostly whistle. “Oooh! The power of suggestion!”

Nova’s stomach twisted in knots as she imagined the horrors Coby had lived through for those five years; horrors he imagined she had done to him. 

“You turned him into a monster,” she choked, glaring at Arkeville through red-rimmed eyes. 

“Amazing, right?” He squealed with glee, rubbing his hands together. “Each of you developed so predictably. I’ll bet Pavlov is smiling on me now!” 

Nova launched herself at him, her wrists snapping against the restraints as she flung a guttural roar in his face. “I hate you!”

“No,” Arkeville said, his smile turning caustic. “You hated Cylas.”

He pulled her chin upward to meet him as he bared his gleaming teeth. “But you feared me.”

Nova let out a whimper, her face clamped immovably in his viselike grip. The pooling tears in her eyes began to course down her cheeks, sliding traitorously into his fingers as he stared into her eyes. 

Arkeville beamed at her, a look of hungry pride in his horrible, wild face as he stroked her cheek.

“This whole world will soon change, my glorious creation,” he murmured. “And it all starts with you.”

Nova jerked her head away from him, and his smile turned to a frown.

“And now, I’m finally going to make you perfect,” he said, grabbing her chin again, harder. “I’m going to take away the one annoying, irritating thing that hinders you from becoming the best weapon ever made.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Your soul.”

Nova’s eyes widened as she remembered. Coby. The forest. 

“No,” she growled hoarsely, tears spilling from her angered eyes. “I won’t let you. I’ll fight you.”

“I’m sure you’ll try,” he said, nodding. “Your brother tried, too; for a really, really long time. It was actually quite impressive,” he admitted, sipping his juice. “He held on to his sanity longer than I thought he would. But I’ve improved on my original design — because my genius is truly fantastic — and I’ve found a way to get rid of that annoying persistence that was so strong in your brother.”

He took an obnoxiously loud sip of his apple juice and plunked it down on the table, sifting through the little rows of vials on the tray.

“Controlling the mind is a science, you see, but manipulating the mind--" he tapped his forehead "--is an art. And I am Picasso.” 

Nova closed her eyes.

“We’ll start with the knock out juice before putting the chip on,” he said. “It’s a simple memory-altering anesthetic. Unregistered, of course. I made it myself. Much as I would love to see the look on your face when you feel your free will slip away…” he scrunched up his face. “I don’t want you to squirm.”

Nova screamed in absolute terror at the sight of the vials. She knew what they were for.

“No!” she cried. “Stay away from me!”

“Aww … don’t like needles?” he asked in mock pity, puncturing the first of the vials and filling a syringe with the shining liquid. “It’s okay; you’re a big girl. I’ll give you a lollipop if you’re really good! How does that sound?”

Nova screamed.

“Oh, calm down,” Arkeville said, brandishing the syringe. “You know shots don’t hurt.”

The needle gleamed in the light as he raised it above her head, reflected sharply in her glistening, wild eyes.

At the sight of it, Nova’s body suddenly stilled. Out of some intense, subliminal sense of fear, she immediately stopped struggling, her gaze rooted on the needle. Her body went slack beneath his shadow, submissive and silent.

“Ah, yes, stiffening up,” Arkeville murmured, placing a hand on her flushed cheek. “Classic Nova response. Shutting down like the overheated machine you are. You used to do that a lot, remember?”

Nova did not move.

He waved a dismissing hand. “Oh, you’d always fight it at first. You always put up a great fuss on the way to the labs, but once we got you in, and when you finally realized you really couldn’t escape …” he shrugged, and gestured to her. “Well, you did that. The old corpse treatment.”

His words echoed in her ears, but did not register. That dead, hollow look gutted out her staring eyes, as if she had resigned herself to her fate.

“Well, anyway, now that all the ranting and raving is over, we can act like adults,” he said, giving a gleeful squirt of the syringe. “Don’t worry. You won’t remember any of this.”

With a terrible leer, he shoved the needle into her arm. At the pinch in her skin, Nova suddenly burst to life. With renewed vigor, she frantically tried to rip herself away, thrashing and tossing, clenching her fists.

“Augh! No! NO!”

“You really shouldn’t struggle — there’ll be bruises,” he said pleasantly, his voice carrying over her wails of terror. “Oh, but I don’t think you will. You’re slowing down already.”

Sure enough, Nova’s arms began to feel tired, as if she had been lifting a huge weight, and her struggling subsided a little. She hated this feeling; it was one her body remembered well. 

She was shutting down.

“No … huh… no…”

Stay awake. Stay awake!

Nova sucked in a lungful of air, trying to force her eyes open, but she felt cold, metal fingers slowly closing over her mouth, and the light above her was blocked out by someone’s shadow.

“Shh,” a voice breathed in her ear. “It won’t be long now.”

Weakly, she made an attempt to move, and struggled against the clamps, but it was no use. The drug was settling in. She knew it was already over.

“Mmm! Mm-mm… mm…” She jerked her head wildly from side to side, trying to dislodge the unforgiving hand, but she was losing strength, and Arkeville was not. He jerked her face forward to look at him, so her weary eyes could see his toothy grin.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Where are your precious Autobots now?”

“Hff! Hfff!” Nova’s muffled groans were stifled by his viselike grip.

Nova?

“Just a few more seconds,” Arkeville soothed. His claws dug painfully into the skin of her cheek. “Almost there.”

Nova! Tell me where to find you!

Nova huffed weakly, tears filling her eyes. She felt the hot droplets rolling down her cheekbones. The lights began to blur together. Why couldn’t she move?

“Annnd … down you go,” the doctor murmured. Nova could feel herself slipping away. The world had become very dark indeed.

NOVA!

And then, as if a switch was flipped, she snapped down into oblivion, and knew nothing more.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

Optimus felt a burst of fear, a shot of panic, and then … nothing. Nova’s Spark no longer registered in his mind, and her terrified thoughts faded away. He felt the numbness returning gradually, and it fueled his already raging panic.

“No,” he growled.

He slammed on the gas pedal and drove as fast as he could, heading for the last place he had felt her presence. He had to get there before it was too late. And when he found the person who did this to her …

The Matrix might need to abandon him for what he was most certainly going to do.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

“Sir,” one of the guards said, standing at the central monitor. “We have an incoming bogey.”

Arkeville shook his head. “No, no, no,” he murmured, grabbing his tools. “We can’t have a bogey. We’re on a very tight schedule. There’s no time for a bogey.”

“It’s approaching at a very high speed,” the guard reported. “Should we activate perimeter defenses?”

“Yes, yes!” Arkeville hissed. “Do whatever you have to, but do not let him approach this hangar!”

“Yes, sir,” the guard said, rushing out of the room.

“Always something,” Arkeville muttered, turning back to the still form of Nova on the table. “You and your little domestic circle, always messing up my plans.”

With another draw of his apple juice, Arkeville lifted a tiny green square from the table and held it to the light, grinning at what lay between his fingers. “But thankfully, this chip is easy to apply. All part of my genius, you see!”

In his excitement, he tossed the apple juice away and bent over the table. Roughly, the doctor tilted her head to the side and shoved her hair back, sticking the patch below her ear, just behind the hinge of her jawbone. Little wires snaked out from the patch and crept along Nova’s neck, rooting the chip where it lay.

“Now to activate it,” he said with glee. He turned to the large computer, where a preliminary brain scan was already showing up. A diagram of the half-spark’s head, along with vitals and neural signals, was displayed in the silly yellow light he so enjoyed.

“You and I are going to take care of some things,” he muttered. “Including the entire United States government, but that’s just a start. Oh, how I have always wanted this! Just a half-girl and her dad, murdering the innocent and plaguing the world! I just—” he sniffled, wiping a metal claw across one eye. “I think I’m going to cry…”

A chime from the computer made all pretense of tears disappear.

“Ah, yes!” he crowed, pulling up the user interface of the chip. It had Nova’s brainwave activity front and center, mapping out every detail of her neural net. Every single part of her — all at his disposal. Grinning wildly, Arkeville lifted his metal arm and cleared his throat.

“Testing,” he said into his wrist-microphone. “Testing, testing, one-two-three!”

The brainwaves responded violently to his voice. Nova’s face was as still as stone, but she could hear him. The chip made sure of that. And now, she would do whatever he said.

“Oh, it’s all so very fun!” Arkeville chortled, capering around in a mad dance around the table. He laughed crazily for a while longer, his echoing roars of glee giving way to little snorts and giggles.

“I have dreamed of this moment for so long,” he sighed, putting his hand on a lever by the table. “And the day has finally arrived! So rise, my twisted little miracle-child, rise!”

He slammed down the lever. An electric current jolted the figure on the table. The lights flickered in their seats. The pooling apple juice on the floor reflected the hideous scene.

Nova’s eyes opened.

And something slammed into the roof.

◅ ◬▚►⎊◄▞ ◬▻

At the sight of an abandoned warehouse this far from civilization, Optimus had known it was the place. Nova’s last cry for help had come from this direction, and though it looked abandoned, MECH was known for occupying seemingly empty bases before.

Any remaining doubts had been dispelled when humans rushed outside to stop his approach. Their gunfire peppered against his armor, pockmarking the ground, but pure, living Cybertronian metal feared no bullets. He transformed and swatted his assailants out of the way, sending rows of men flying into the air. Unfortunately, they would all live, but none of them would stop him in this.

He approached the building, more gunfire plinking off of his smokestacks, and he turned to deal with the others who were brave or stupid enough to challenge an angry Prime.

But suddenly, he felt something strange. A minute ago, Nova’s side of the bond had been blank, as though she were nonexistent, and he had felt the emptiness keenly, but now it had been replaced. Her side of the bond was slowly becoming active again, but … it wasn’t her.

Swiping the remaining humans away, Optimus drew himself up to his full height and rammed his fist into the roof, grasping the bending metal and ripping it asunder with a screee-eech!

Through the jagged hole he had made, he saw a concrete-floored warehouse room, dimly lit, with a computer, a cart, and … an operating table.

And on that table, her hands clamped down, her eyes wide open, was Nova.

His anger was momentarily checked by a small voice coming from within the warehouse.

“You are just in time!” it said, chuckling.

Prime didn’t have to search long to figure out where it came from. A man in a lab coat (and in more danger than he realized) stepped into the light, his hands clasped behind his back. His sour face was twisted in the glee of a mad scientist who should never have been allowed to pick up a scalpel; his white hair burst from his head like a scraggly explosion, and his chin jutted out at the giant robot with such impertinence that even the likes of Starscream may have been jealous. His eyes were like those of some wild creature, a beast shrouded by myth and shadows, feared by young and old alike.

The Prime stared down at him, appalled that such a man had held possession of Nova for the past three hours.

“Optimus Prime, is it?” Arkeville asked. “The test subject has told me a lot about you. A pleasure to make your acquaintance at last!”

The test subject?

Optimus reached down and seized the man in his fist, bringing him sharply up to his face. Arkeville did not even squirm.

“You,” Optimus said in a low voice.

“Me?” Arkeville asked innocently.

“What have you done to her?”

“Ah! I was hoping you’d ask!” said the scientist, pressing a button on his wrist. “Please, let me show you.”

The restraints on the table slid away, and Nova stared, unfettered, at the light in the ceiling.

“Subject Alpha,” Arkeville said into his microphone. “Attack.”

Nova’s eyes flitted to Optimus.

And suddenly he knew why the bond felt so strange.

The half-spark launched herself off of the table and charged at him, her armor forming over her body and her laser-edged blades flinging out of her arms.

Within an instant, she was on him. Her arms flashed before her, and she stabbed holes in him as she made her way up his leg, using her blades to anchor herself in his armor.

In sudden panic, Optimus raised his arm to defend himself, dropping Arkeville as Nova began to slash at his chest plates. He realized with great alarm that she was trying to plunge her blades directly into his Spark.

“Nova!” Optimus said, grabbing ahold of her. “Nova, stop this.”

Nova snarled, squirming out of his hands and swiping her blade at his eyes. By the Matrix — now she was trying to blind him? 

He released her, more out of surprise than anything else. 

Nova landed on her feet, panting, staring at nothing.

“Nova, you are unwell,” Optimus tried to explain, reaching for her again, more warily this time. “I can help you— augh!”

She had leaped up — from the floor — and slashed into his face. Optimus backpedaled, reeling away from the building as he touched the burning wound she had left on his cheek. He took in a breath, astonished. His fingers were stained with his own Energon.

She had never, ever struck him before.

Nova slammed a hole in the wall and approached him again, her arms at her sides and her blades vibrating on her wrists.

“Attack,” she murmured lazily. “Attack.”

Optimus’ mask slid over his face in record time as she leaped at him again, her blades thrust toward his feet. She ducked around his reaching arms and sprinted between his legs, dragging a painful gash across his shin as she went. His Energon began to gather in the depths of the split metal, glowing softly.

Before he could do anything but groan in pain, Nova put away her blades and leapt into the air, slamming her entire strength into the back of his leg.

Optimus grunted, falling to one knee. Nova approached him again, from the front, her eyes held dangerously low.

“Nova,” he said, wincing at the pain, trying not to yell at her. “Listen to me…”

The half-spark looked toward him, but not at him, like an animal sensing the direction of its prey. She did not focus on his face. Her eyes were glazed over; listless. As if she were dead.

“Attack,” Nova said, pulling out her guns.

Before Optimus could say anything more, she raised her arms and fired upon her guardian. Once. Twice. Thrice. Her eyes flared blue in the light of her blasters as she advanced upon him like a mindless drone.

Optimus pushed himself up and out of the way, winding deftly around her stream of fire and snapping her up in his hand.

“I refuse to fight you!” he said, shaking her. “Nova, look at me! Nova!”

At his sudden entreaty, Nova’s eyes slowly came back into focus. She actually managed to meet his gaze.

“Optimus?”

“Yes,” Optimus said, holding her tightly in his hands. “Fight this!”

“You came to find me…?” For one tortured instant, Nova seemed like she was trying to smile at him, and then her face crumpled like paper. 

She pressed her hands to her head, wailing in agony.

“What have I done?” she cried out. “What have I done?!”

“It’s all right. I have you,” he said, removing his face mask. “It’s all right. Look at me.”

Her side of the bond was flickering, hovering between her own soul and this monstrous evil that Arkeville had planted inside her. There were too many dueling voices in her head. Nova’s crazed eyes swept up to meet his, and she sobbed.

“Kill me,” she begged, her eyes holding more terror than he had ever seen as she gripped his hand. 

“What—”

“Please!” she screamed. “I can't fight it. You have to kill me, before I kill you!”

“No,” Optimus said. “I can help—”

“You don’t understand!” Nova screamed, gnashing her teeth. “This is the only way! Please…” she choked, and there was such piercing sorrow in her eyes, behind her mask, that Optimus’ Spark shuddered. “Please. Anything is better than this.”

Optimus looked at her, his gaze filled with hurt, and compassion.

“I will not kill you,” he intoned. “Do you understand? I will find another way. I will help you.”

Nova huffed a sob, staring at him through her tears as if his eyes alone were keeping her from falling over the brink.

“You can’t,” she whispered, and it felt like a goodbye.

“Nova—”

“AUGH!”

And then she was gone.