Work Text:
The audio-splitting noise pulled her out of the darkness she had retreated to. Throwing the blanket off, she held the odd object for inspection. Mismatched bedspreads were secured together by metal ties punched through the corners and near the middle of each side to create something large enough to cover her. Velocity had little recollection of where the object came from other than Optimus tucking it around her at some point.
The femme did not know how long she stayed curled in the dingy corner of the building, but the repeated movement of light and shadow through a small window hinted at several days. Sitting with the ugliest blanket ever created in her lap, Velocity attempted to chase away the quasi-fugue state she had suffered since the attack on Alpha Base.
Giving herself time, she let memories slide back.
Ratchet forcing her out of the base.
The harried battle in Tranquility and the arrival of new Autobots.
Digging out the survivors and victims of Soundwave’s bombs. Helping to lay the dead out for identification and reburying the bodies. People she knew, friends lifeless in the dry dirt, some crushed beyond recognition, others taking their last shuttering breath as she watched helplessly.
Anger so pure and powerful threatened to consume her. She wanted revenge, to soak the dirt in life-giving energon; Optimus kept her from trying to slaughter every mech, regardless of faction, she found. As her anger threatened to boil over into violence, the near-mystical bond of merged soul and spark calmly pulled her back with a force as natural and inexorable as the moon pulling the tides.
Instead of vengeance, she directed her energy to help. Those mechs able to transform in the Null Zone transported survivors. Those who struggled to shift stayed at Alpha Base, continuing the search and recovery efforts. Being one of the ones who struggled to shift modes, she rode sitting between Optimus’s cab and fifth wheel, not caring about the sidelong glances or hushed comments from the other Autobots.
Nellis AFB had been a disaster. The proximity to Las Vegas, a city dying in the desert heat, should have been a warning. The lack of electricity and the rapidly dwindling food and water supplies spread panic among the people. Riots broke out, and Optimus tried to intercede but quickly learned that hungry scared people are incapable of reason. The medically weak, injured, and sick that died in the first few days of the blackout were joined by others murdered in fights for resources. The survivors grew ever angrier, blaming the Autobots for letting them die, for not bringing in food and water, and no amount of explaining that there wasn’t any food or water to bring quelled the anger. Mothers with starving babies, tourists trapped in a vacation from Hell, the old, the young, and the citizens of the new world wanted to know what Optimus Prime would do to save them.
He told them he needed time to establish supply chains; they wanted it now. It took a week for tension to snap and frustration turned to violence. Human guns still worked; simple in design, they did not require circuitry or electricity. The attack came in the afternoon, and a horde of furious men and women quickly overcame the military checkpoint. Their guns did little to the Cybertronians, but they could and did kill humans. A bloodbath followed, and Optimus ordered a full retreat, taking human allies with him.
They traveled north, finding a different base with a small town nearby. That was the last she remembered. The violence, the misery, the hate, fear, and helplessness all tore her down, and she crawled into a dark building, curled into a ball, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
Setting the blanket aside, Velocity stood, her joints stiff. Supply crates packed the space around her, some with Cybertronian glyphs, some in English; terms like “MRE” and “launcher projectile 64mm” she easily guessed the contents. Ignoring why weapons would be stored with provisions, she followed the path between the boxes to the front of the building. A rolling garage door blocked her exit until she found the latch and slid it upward.
The bright sun scorched her optics, and a horse’s whinny took her by surprise. As her optics adjusted, she found a corral made of posts and sheet metal held several horses. A nearby hanger became a haphazard stable. Blinking several times, Velocity stored the information away for further inquiry.
Stepping into the daylight, the femme headed toward the massive shuttle sitting sideways on the runway. She found her mate in discussion with a baldheaded man. Both bots and humans had gathered around.
“This is your best pilot?” the man snapped.
Optimus kneeled to address the human, “Colonel Jefferson, I assure you, Hot Rod is a capable pilot.”
Placing his hand on his hips, Ironhide interrupted, “We have a window of ten U.S. miles by twenty U.S. miles. That sounds like a large area, but the Null Zone reaches through the troposphere. When the shuttle attempts to land, it has to stay within that narrow corridor or crash. Show me a human pilot that can land a 747 in those conditions.”
“Easy Ironhide.” The Prime waved his Weapons Specialist away. “Colonel, I thank you for trusting us. As I have stated before, we have a plan to return electricity to this base and hopefully the town next to it. To help save your nation and its people, we require a base of operations.”
The Creech Air Force Base Commander narrowed his eyes at the towering mech. “I only allow you here because you have a plan. If I think you are lying to me or your actions are anything but honorable, not having a base will be the least of your concerns. I’m not putting up with your alien bullshit if you are not helping fix this fucking mess your kind made.”
A single nod from the Prime sealed the pact.
Chromia leaned against her mate, one arm resting on his shoulder; the femme had changed her color scheme from a desert camouflage to varying shades of vibrant blue and silver. A small smile quirked her features when she saw Velocity. “Well, look who decided to return to the land of the functioning. Are you better?”
Velocity offered a slight shrug of the shoulders. She had yet to decide if Chromia liked or tolerated her, but Velocity was sure Ironhide told his mate everything due to the weirdly curious stares Chromia gave her occasionally.
“I told ya. Just give her time.” Ironhide admonished.
Optimus stood and turned toward her, his optics roving over her before he offered her a gentle smile. “You are up.”
“Yeah, everyone seems surprised by that fact,” Velocity admitted and wrapped her arms around her waist.
Prime did not wait any longer; he moved toward her and pulled her into an embrace, securing her against him. Velocity closed her optic shutters and relaxed. Everything about him filled her senses, the touch of him against her armor, the scent of metal, oil, and something she had yet to identify. His electrical field danced and folded into hers, the slow rhythm of his pump. The warm sun and his cooling presence played across her. The weeks washed away, and she could forget the rest of the universe and exist within his arms for a few moments.
“Isn’t this adorable.” The Base Commander drawled, his tone meaning the exact opposite.
“Oh, stuff it,” snapped Ironhide.
A smile pulled at Velocity’s facial plates as the sound of stomping feet faded. Opening her shutters, she gazed up at her mate. “Did you make the blanket?”
Bending, Optimus whispered in her audio, “I read organics feel more secure covered up, especially felines.”
“Oh, shut up,” she could not keep the chuckle from slipping into her words.
XxxX
Unloading the shuttle became the priority, and she diligently inventoried everything that came to Earth from the Parhelion. Asking the use of unknown objects abruptly ended when Wheeljack gave her a two-hour lecture on energy conversion rates. Even Optimus would not save her from that torture.
Velocity stood on top of a crate, trying to get a better angle to count the tote of coupler sleeves someone had stacked too high for her to reach. Digging through the container, she realized whoever loaded it had tossed the items in randomly instead of placing them in any semblance of order. She even found a handful of resistors in the bottom. Moaning, the femme mentally rearranged the rest of her day, knowing this would take time to unload, catalog, and reload, assuming she could find someone to drop the container to the ground.
Turning to lean against the crate and its offending contents, she scrolled back to the list of resistors and noted: “# TBD in 37B2.” She wanted to add, “Advanced fucking aliens can’t pack for shit,” but decided Ultra Magnus could find something else to gripe about.
Over the top of her datapad, she watched Optimus stroll toward her, his gait purposeful and direct. She did not try to hide that she watched her mate. Since the arrival of the new Autobots, Optimus made their bonding clear to all. The abrupt change in his behavior still took her by surprise. Gone were the secretive glances and subtle brushes of electrical fields. Instead, he openly held her, stood close enough that they brushed against each other, and would stop conversations asking for her opinions or insight. Ratchet’s advice to spend every possible moment enjoying each other echoed in her thoughts.
Optimus stopped and looked up at her. An odd viewpoint and she could see the damage from countless battles mar the smooth finish of his armor; his shoulders held hundreds of crisscrossing hairline scars, only visible in the brightest of lights and at this angle. Sadness dripped into her mood, diluting the joy of being with her mate.
Tipping his head to the side, Optimus raised a brow arch in a silent question.
“It’s nothing. Just a thought.” Velocity offered him a smile. Another change, he insisted they keep their bond open and that she did not hide her emotions from him. That took more effort to adjust to. No matter her emotional state, his moods lingered at the back of her consciousness as another layer to her thoughts. Occasionally, she pulled away, and he would find her.
Today, she had not pulled away from their connection, so his appearance meant something else. Busy focusing on her assigned duties, Velocity had ignored almost everything around and within her. “What’s up?”
“You have been here all day. I think you need a break,” the Prime stated matter-of-factly. The twinkle in his optics did not match his commanding tone.
“Really? You decided that all by yourself?” Velocity sat on the crate she used as a stepping stool. Dangling her legs over the edge, she remained optic level with him. Playfully, she propped her peds on his chest, crossing them at the ankles. “Now, I am taking a break,” she pointed out, waiting for whatever game he played to reveal itself.
He held her peds in place with a hand, his thumb stroking her ankle. With a nearly imperceivable smile on his features, his electrical field bounced mischievously against hers. Oh, yes, this mech was up to something.
“You need to take a longer break and come with me,” he stated with absolute confidence.
Playing along, the femme checked her datapad. “I would like to, but I am tasked with inventorying,” she made a show of counting down the list, “fifteen more crates from the shuttle before they are moved to storage.” She raised her brow arches, waiting for his counter or retreat.
He countered. “I outrank everyone here; therefore, you are relieved of duty and are free to accompany me.”
“Wow. You pulled rank. It must be important.” She sucked air over her dental plates and leaned against the crate she should have been inventorying.
Optimus chuckled and lifted one of her peds, carefully rubbing the joints and manipulating her toes. “Magnus said you are ahead of schedule.”
Velocity laughed, not a demure chuckle but a deep, genuine laugh, the first one in weeks. Recovering, she finally sputtered. “So, you didn’t pull rank.”
Releasing her ped, the Prime raised his chin with haughty defiance. “I would have.”
XxxX
Velocity had been in the cargo shuttle before. The cramped spaces for the crew and pilot, the massive hold for supplies, the engine bay with its fuel tanks, and the potentially lethal engines themselves. She wore an expression of interested neutrality, but internally she shook with excitement and nervous apprehension. Optimus sat next to her, helping her buckle her restraints. This time she was not helping unload. This time Optimus was taking her to the Parhelion.
“Are you sure? By rights, the helm and controls are yours.” Hot Rod asked; the orange and yellow flames on his armor turned a sickly green in the blue lights of the controls. The mech turned in his seat to talk to the Prime. “I am happy to let you take over.”
“I trust your skills,” Optimus commented.
Velocity caught the quick flick of the Prime’s optics toward her, making it clear the reason for forgoing the privilege of piloting the craft.
Hot Rod turned back around with a shrug and began adjusting dials and flicking switches. “I guess for an off-worlder, this would be scary. Maybe not scary, but certainly unsettling, but that is fine. I remember my first time leaving Cybertron to visit Moonbase 1. I about had the surges, and here you are so calm. Some of the guys say you are calm but aloof, others say you are the opposite of calm, but still aloof. I don’t know. You seem quiet but nice enough.”
Optimus pinched his nasal bridge and sighed.
A vibration rolled through the shuttle, gaining momentum until Velocity thought her dental plates would clack together. She slipped her hand into Optimus’s and checked her harness.
“Hold onto your afts; it’s a rough ride to the top of the troposphere,” Hot Rod warned.
They rocketed into the sky. The shuttle bounced and jerked as it tore a nearly vertical path, and the G forces slammed Velocity against her seat. Shuttering her optics, she squeezed Optimus’s hand when the craft jumped and rolled sideways.
Within seconds it was over.
They had cleared the reach of the Null Zone, and Hot Rod leveled out the shuttle. Opening her optics, Velocity tried to slow her rapidly cycling vents. Still squeezing Optimus’s hand, she tried to look out the windows, but the Parhelion filled most of the view. The spaceship was huge, measured in miles. The end nearest them offered crisp detail of the angles and arches, while the furthest end became obscured with atmospheric haze. Velocity shut her gaping mouth with a clank.
Optimus leaned near her and whispered, “Please, let go.”
Looking down, Velocity cringed. She still held his hand, but fear had extended her claws and anchored them into Optimus’s palm during the rough flight. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”
XxxX
Currently, they stood on the bridge, a multilevel area with the commander’s seat sitting high and center. The Autobot reclining in that chair rapidly vacated it when he saw Optimus.
The Prime casually waved away any concerns of rank or etiquette, “The helm remains yours.”
She had been aboard the Ark after it landed on Earth, but only to help dismantle the massive ship, but the Parhelion hung above her planet, suspended on the edge of space. Where the Ark had been dead, no energy running through it, the Parhelion was alive in a way she could not explain. It hummed beneath her peds, and the air vibrated with life.
“Is the Parhelion sentient - alive?” Velocity whispered to her mate.
A slight smile lit his features. “The ship itself? No. The A.I. living aboard it is sentient but not alive.”
“Is there a difference?” She asked, truly not understanding.
A few mechs smirked at her naivety, and she ignored them, focusing on the tour.
She had expected expansive windows to see the Earth; instead, a smooth wall held data-filled monitors where she thought a windshield should be. Another disappointment fueled by lousy sci-fi movies. “No windows,” Velocity grumbled.
“The heat shields are up. If they weren’t, even we would have difficulty tolerating temperatures on the bridge.” Optimus answered her question patiently; he did not seem exasperated or frustrated by her curiosity or lack of knowledge.
“Like a bully with a magnifying glass at an ant hill.”
Optimus leaned close to her. “Exactly.”
Prime showed her stations for navigation, weapons, communications, engines and propulsion, life support, and the Parhelion’s A.I.. As they approached the manned stations, curious optics would quickly travel over her frame, and she tried to ignore them as best she could.
“Do all ships come with artificial intelligence?” Velocity wondered aloud.
One of the Autobot technicians turned to her. “No. Only armada flagships. Due to the data load with the variable analysis required during a battle, an A.I. is necessary to….”
“Thank you, Perceptor,” Optimus interrupted. Turning to Velocity, the Prime continued, “Perceptor is one of the top researchers on Cybertron. His knowledge and experience have aided the Autobot cause in countless ways.”
Velocity offered the lanky red mech a half smile as the Autobot nodded at his commander’s compliment and went back to work.
Directing Velocity out of the bridge, Optimus showed her crew quarters, tight rooms with multiple recharge bunks stacked three high. Officer quarters, larger spaces with a bunk and sitting area. Medical, a massive area that shined with polished metal and a dozen exam tables. The War Room and its massive table, which wasn’t a table at all, but a hologram generator showing the Earth and thousands of satellites. With a motion of his hand, Optimus changed the image and showed the Parhelion floating above Nevada. They visited the engine room, with clearly designated areas to safely stand, but the noise became too much, and Velocity had to leave, her audios ringing. They visited other parts of the ship, Optimus explaining how to find her way around the vessel and work the lifts.
Finally, he led her to the observation deck, the uppermost level of the Parhelion. The cavernous room appeared empty and unassuming. Plain walls surrounded her, drab gray with ocher lines. The floor resembled the levels of a Greek theatron, wide and leading down to a bare wall. Optimus turned to a small control panel, and with a few taps, the lights blinked off, leaving them in impenetrable blackness.
Velocity moved closer to her mate and the door leading out.
A few more taps and the far wall split away from the ceiling. A bright light filled the ever-widening gap as the heavy armor plates disappeared into deep recesses along the floor.
Beyond the massive window, the arc of the Earth shone a bright blue. Velocity froze. She could not speak or vent, her optics locked on her world below.
Optimus took her hand and led her to the glass barrier.
Finally, Velocity laid her hands on the warming glass and drank in the sight before her. Her pump raced in her chest, and small tremors played along her limbs. This was it; this was her world, all she had ever known. The haze of atmosphere and clouds obscured and dulled the land, but she could make out mountains and the great desert she called home. Beyond the blue, a star warmed the planet and held back the infinite darkness of space.
So small, so insignificant, and yet the most important thing she could think of. Her world, a tiny blip in the cosmos, something easily overlooked. A rock holding billions, no trillions of lives, and who would notice if it disappeared tomorrow? She laid her helm on the glass, wanting to cry at the majesty, enormity, and paucity of the world that birthed her. Her knees weakened as the power of what Optimus showed her threatened to buckle them.
In the reflection, Optimus stood behind her. Velocity shifted her focus to his image. He had seen dozens of worlds and stepped foot on many of them. Did he understand the awe exploding within her, the significance of the sight before her?
Massive arms slipped around her, anchoring her, and their bond flared open.
“I felt the same the first time I saw all of Cybertron,” his words came slow and gentle. “Every life-filled planet I have seen earns my reverence, and it never diminishes or lessens. The glory of creation is held on each planet and world.
“Will you allow me to show you my home? Will you come with me to Cybertron?”
Velocity blinked. “Today?” she managed to squeak out.
Optimus held her tighter. “No, but soon. I have been away from Cybertron for too long and need to return. My world is dying, and with the Allspark gone, I cannot revive it.”
Guilt washed through Velocity; he had traded the Allspark for her. “Can Soundwave revive your world?” The question crossed her mind and slipped out of her processor before she could stop it, hoping he would tell her “yes” and relieve her shame.
“No, only a Matrix-bearing Prime can enter the Well and restore the Allspark, and he is neither. Since that is not an option, I need to secure a home for my people on Earth. There is much work to do, and I need you by my side. I need your help, your understanding of humans. ”
In the reflection, his optics focused on her, not the vista beneath them. Through the glass, Velocity endured his scrutiny. “Yes.”
XxxX
Life and drama took over the writing of this ficlet, and I could not get it up for the holidays. Late Merry/Happy whatever you celebrate.