Chapter Text
5,067 CE, Iacon, Cybertron.
Red and orange bulkily tall and winged First Senator Sentinel Prime sat in his beige chair of his city and landscape painting covered office, blue coated and brown mustached Terran Confederation foreign service officer Dirk Manus seated beside Sentinel’s desk in a chair that required traveling up a lift or stairs to use, so he could be at desk height with Sentinel. Next to them, widely sloped white and black door-winged Intelligence Director bot Prowl sat in front of the two alongside chubby turbine finned purple bot Diplomacy Councilor Nautica.
Sentinel’s blue optics and ruffled faceplate met Dirk’s brown eyes. “I’m surprised Ambassador Marissa Faireborn didn’t show up for this meeting, given how keen the old guard Galactic Federation is on these talks going smoothly.”
Nautica looked away and humphed quietly, containing her fury over the proceedings to come, well aware Prowl was squinting at her. She waved her off. Bloody conformists, Nautica thought. The Decepticons will take over without a fight at this rate. She resisted the urge to put her hand over her spark, where she had stuck a recording device inside with her dear friend’s Velocity and Brainstorm’s help in an intimately difficult procedure the month before, anticipating this meeting. If it’s never been done- maybe Prowl won’t figure it out.
“Well, Marissa is the one who dragged out these talks even happening, she’s very upset over the whole thing, making a formal complaint to the Galactic Council as we speak,” Dirk leaned back, arms behind his head, legs stretched out, smiling, while sharply staring back at Sentinel. "I’ll remind you that this is her friend we’re helping you with. She wants her and her family brought in alive for a public trial -”
“That is-” Prowl hesitated. “A security risk of the highest order in terms of public conflagration over us treating them that way. No- we can compromise- I can give them the resources to fight only the Decepticons and live in safety, if they lay low.”
“Yes, because all you think Arcee and her loved ones are good for is as a hired killer,” Nautica scoffed. “You, Prowl, who stylized her helm after her, who took up swords, but can’t get your head around how she is fighting out of desperation for what is happening to bots like you and me. She deserves to be heard and have her autonomy respected- not to be a pawn in one of your cop fantasies. Which-” Nautica smirked a polite sneer with fiery optics “you know will get you killed. By her. You do know that, right? This is a waste of time-”
“ENOUGH,” Sentinel Prime glowered at Nautica. “Councilor, I understand your feelings on the matter for the plight of trans and expansive bots during these difficult times, but Arcee’s way is no solution! Aesthetic anarchy will give way to the destruction of harmonious class values cared for by the state, and give the Decepticons more supporters from those disgusted! Her lot hates Pax Cybertronia! The only thing I agree on,” Sentinel pointed at her, “Is that she should stand trial. Aequitas and Tyrest are already slated to be the judges-”
Prowl meanwhile looked down, and shrunk into her chair as much as possible, trying to hide from sensing the world. This isn’t how things are supposed to be.
“That’s absurd! You want to put her on trial with an algorithm with no epistemic filter and - a known old guard zealot who designed it and got it on the Courts with a vote that was passed by the Decepticon minority ?” Dirk stood up on the platform around his chair. “Whose side are you on?”
“Whose side are you on, liasion FSO Dirk Manus, and Councilor Nautica?” Sentinel stood as well, fists clenched. “I will remind both of you that this meeting is happening with the blessing and order of the highest levels of the Galactic Federation we are both part of . Be careful you do not commit treason in the name of an ‘autonomous iteration revolution.’ Pah, a corruption of the word Autobot-”
“You took it from us, actually,” Nautica crossed her arms. “I was elected by the people to give voice to the transforming spirit of all our peoples and that movement, and I am doing so now, First Senator . You took it to a place of apathy and status quo, the antithesis of what revolutionaries laid out. You made it palatable, commodified. I am not breaking from law by exercising my position as a PEER to you on the Autobot Council to reprimand this course of action, and as our diplomatic face to the galaxy. I cannot believe you also wish to mire the record of a noble, naive, bounty hunter with this crusade of yours-”
Ironhide commed: =“Samus Aran is here, I’ll send her in now.”=
Everyone in the room sat back down quietly, glowering at each other, Prowl slowly unfolding with regret in every movement.
“Who said I was naive?”six foot tall, two hundred pound, brimming with muscle in her tight blue, lightly armored, and flat booted tactical zero suit Samus Aran stepped in, pistol grapple dual electric/EMP whips holstered on each hip, golden hair in a ponytail behind her face, a bit of heavy purple and orange armor folded up on her back. “I’m signing up for this rather odd job of bringing in a warrior trans woman history teacher who has a cross checked record of rampaging through government facilities looking for a nonexistent ancient enemy because of how they allegedly hurt her family, and her. The Functionists you bots, the Chozo, and the Federation defeated before I was born. I think it stinks, but she has an alleged criminal record pending trial that far outpaces-”
“Every time she did that, she acted defensively, for people dear to her or in need of help. Her movement is peaceful, otherwise Caminus, my home, wouldn’t harbor her,” Nautica smiled. “She’s not that different from you. You’ve uncovered multiple reactionary Galactic Federation, Chozo, and Space Pirate conspiracies and coup attempts. Can’t you see that?” She knelt and extended a hand.
“She is different from me,” Samus crossed her arms as she stepped closer before tentatively shaking Nautica’s much larger hand. “I defend the status quo of prosperity and democracy of the Galactic Federation and thus Earth and Cybertron-”
“The status quo will end if we continue defending it,” Dirk leaned forward. “The Decepticons are pushing for imperial expansion. For an end to elected rule. We must come together in solidarity, yes, but it is not the position of the Terran Confederation to ignore the numerous threats Federation and Cybertronian projects have caused to Earth and our allies such as Nebulos. The Bottle Ship, the X and Metroid weaponization programs, the Alpha Protocol, the facsimile encouragement of a reactionary coup, the Hive, the list goes on and on. The Golden Age of the Federation and Cybertron are over,” Dirk nodded at Nautica’s grin, before looking towards Samus again, who gazed back with steely attention. “What we need now is truth, story, and hope. On behalf of the Terran Worlds Delegates and Ambassador Marissa Faireborn, I ask that you look at this as an opportunity to create justice, not to bring in a bounty. This is pivotal to peace, yes, but not in the way the Federation or Sentinel will sell it to you. Surely the Chozo taught you the nuances of peace.”
“And of terrible, awful war,” Samus’s blue eyes turned towards the quietly fuming Sentinel Prime. “I will say, First Senator, that I do not often get tasked with bringing down the family of someone whose gender experiences deeply overlap with mine. Why her? Why not Elita One, Optimus Prime, Rodimus, Blackarachnia, Tigerhawk, or Windblade?”
“Because,” Sentinel sighed and leaned forward. “Arcee is one of the oldest of us, and is deeply familiar with the structure of power, the underworld, the subaltern, war, and love. Her misunderstandings from her richly varied experiences when she often had so little are what puts us in danger. She is a martyr waiting to happen, or worse- she will take up a Matrix of Leadership, and disrupt our fragile peace by inspiring the military to attempt to crush the Decepticons. To end the Great Conversation of our multifaction democracy. She is not some great individual, special though she is. She was made by many people, and she makes many in turn. She, ” Sentinel toned while staring an explosive expression at Nautica, “is more dangerous than Megatron. An analogue of an X of transformation.”
“I understand,” Samus bowed her head, hand over her heart, and Nautica got up and headed to the door in a rush tearfully while Samus continued to speak. “While I find the metaphor inept and concerning, the threat to peace is clear. We have a future warmonger on our hands.”
“SHE’S A PACIFIST! Sentinel, you’ve buried your career with what you’ve said today, and I will preside over that, starting with a motion to censure!” Nautica pointed jarringly at Sentinel Prime before shutting the door, while Dirk Manus murmured about a headache.
Sentinel chuckled. “That was going to happen sooner or later, bloody Camiens and their adoration of the ever-reforging journey of self…”
Samus gulped, feeling her Metroid and Chozo instincts and the rest of herself in sync for once, uneasy at Sentinel Prime’s wording, even though the Galactic Federation Chairperson had recommended her for the job, saying no one else could be trusted with untangling this… there’s more at hand here than anyone has told me. Sentinel is no Autobot even in facsimile or the radical meaning of the word. She shared a briefest of glances with Prowl, whose face was glassy with… worry?
“With that out of the way, and someone to add to my watchlist,” Prowl grumbled as she booted up a galactic map projection above the floor with a small remote. “Let’s get to business on last known sightings, her home-ship was seen near the Ardurian moons, we think people are fleeing there given the times, absolutely atrocious for investigations by anybody…”
“I can track her down,” Samus smiled. “Are all her family combatants?”