Nova Prime steps back, shocked. He hadn’t expected to take such a verbal lashing from what he believed to be simply another quintesson drone. Unable to come up with a satisfactorily -scathing rebuttal, the disgraced Prime simply snarls and storms off, draping his mechanical wings around himself like a cape. Some of the nearby spirits of other past Primes snicker as he passes them, pleased to see Nova humbled yet again.
“That is not entirely correct,” Optimus Prime says to Honeycomb, shaking his head. “The Matrix of Leadership will respond to specific actions it disapproves of. In Axis’s case, I suspect it lashed out at her for endangering innocents and comrades in some of your most recent battles, and for killing the leader of the thieves at the Hall of Records when the hybrid quintesson in your company had already incapacitated him. The Matrix does not take kindly to such recklessness, which is what Sentinel tried to explain.”
“The demands of leadership are great, young predacon,” Sentinel tells Maximus. “And those chosen to bear this burden must be held to higher standards- that is the way of it. I serve as an example of what can happen when a leader does not meet those standards in times of crisis. Something dark and powerful looms on the horizon- you all have felt it- and the consequences of failure will surely be terrible.”
Alpha Trion curiously inspects the pendant, stroking his beard as he did so. After a moment, he looks back up at LD-L1.
“If you wish to sway your ‘Adjunct Deificus’ to change her rulings on this matter, perhaps the word of Alpha Trion himself could help convince her,” he suggests, clearly unaccustomed to flaunting his quasi-divinity so. “It also sounds as though whatever Sentinel Prime buried on Lacuna will provide a few more historical revelations if discovered- I think your order could use it, if you have the opportunity.”
Salvage turns around, and upon seeing nobody at eye-level, he looks down to see Ivory approach in his human form. The red Junkion kneels down and kinda awkwardly bumps fist with the detective, moving his arm slowly and carefully so as to avoid injuring the Silent Shroud. Of course, Salvage doesn’t know that this man is somewhat more than meets the eye…
“Eh, maybe,” he says. “They’d be a real glitch to install, too, I’ll bet. We’d be better off trying to pull some strings and get ourselves another ship- something actually built to be in a fight.”
“I suppose I do tend to jump to quickly to violence. I will readily admit that I let things get terribly out of hand at the space port, and killing the terrorist leader was a foolish and impulsive decision. I promise I will work to be more careful in future, and I will be sure to only use as much force as is necessary, and only when it is necessary.”
Axis replied to Optimus Prime.
“I mean obviously. It’s just… agh. I don’t know. I’m not the best with all this big Prime stuff. I get that we got a lot coming up ahead. I just feel like you’re not giving Axis the credit she deserves. Or any credit at all really.”
Hoping to escape the conversation, Maximus looked around the chamber to see if there were any Eukarian Primes present among the specters.
“Quintesson?” Firestrom asks Optimus over non verbal comms. The prime could hear his voice but he wasn’t speaking out loud for everyone to hear. The Lost Knight looks at Quintus Prime, “are they your progeny?” He asks the Prime of Life in the same manner.
Defender sees Oreo enter the room.
“Welcome, stranger,” he says quietly. “I assume you are with the Prime’s party?”
“Yes, I am,” Oreo replies. He looks around the room, amazed and somewhat nervous at the sight of all the Primes filling the room.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” Defender says. “My name is Defender. I am one of the few surviving fighters from the Great War, as I- well, I got put in stasis upon arrival, and so I missed the whole thing. I was woken up about fifty years ago when my vehicle form was sent to Cybertron as a gift to the Prime from the humans of Earth. Their gift was a whole lot better than they had imagined, as I had been assumed dead. So now I’m just touring the Galaxy, learning what I missed and catching up on the recent developments. And you are?”
“I’m Oreo,” Oreo says. “I’m a case of cold-construction, from here on Cybertron. My friend Razor should be around here somewhere. She’s a Mini-Con, about six feet tall, has two wheels on her shoulders – have you seen her?”
“If you believe it would help, please do so. The Data disk in the center is functional, if relatively low capacity.” LD-L1 told the Prime. He didn’t tell him it was meant to be used to record last words, but he figured this was somewhat more important.
“That seems much more doable, though I’m not sure how many combat-grade freighters are flying around. Maybe a Corps scale transporter?” Ivory posited, fully aware that keeping the bot talking was the best way to keep someone company.
“You needn’t make that promise to me,” Optimus Prime tells Axis. “Swear it to yourself and to your allies.”
Optimus looks away from Axis and cocks his head to one side as he somehow receives Firestorm’s transmission, despite his physical form being on the other end of the galaxy on Trecedim. Firestorm would hear a strange ringing sound through his communicator- some kind of feedback, maybe, as the circumstances of this encounter prevented Optimus from responding on the nonverbal comms. He waves to get Quintus Prime’s attention, and the spindly Prime of life drifts over to the old Knight headmaster.
“The quintessons are not my progeny, no,” Quintus says quietly. "Nor are they in any other way related to our people, as far as anyone has discerned. Our similar names and appearances are purely coincidental- at least, I hope so.
“Ah, but, I believe it is rude to talk about people behind their backs,” he adds, nodding toward Kitai as the ghost of Nova Prime storms off. (@MakutaOisli)
“What she has done thus far is impressive, yes- but whatever is to come may very well be what truly defines her as a Prime,” Sentinel says to Maximus as the predacon leaves. With our heroes having dispersed to speak to the specters of the other Primes while they can, the 1316th Prime turns his attention back to his empty sarcophagus. Where his body truly rested was far less glamorous, and his death had been painful. He has long-since accepted that final humiliation as penance for his failures as a leader.
Maximus wouldn’t find any Matrix-bearers from the Prime Colonies, apart from Axis. Those worlds had been isolated from the galaxy until only five thousand years ago, and so the lineage of the Primes had consisted almost entirely of people from Cybertron and the original colony planets. Among the many hundreds of specters are figures like Armax Prime, a tall red woman holding a similarly-enormous spear; Bombasticus Prime, the neon-colored Junkion who had shouted down Nova Prime earlier; Duplicitous Prime, a minicon with a featureless black visor for a face and no discernable alt-mode; and Manos Prime, famous for losing his left hand in a duel with a human warlord- his spirit even lacks the appendage.
The Knight guardians and the Angelicon stewards keep silent and out of the way as our heroes go about their business, with the other visitors having been cleared out. The Tomb of the Primes strangely feels both very empty and somewhat overcrowded at once, because of the ghostly inhabitants that temporarily occupied it. They will leave, and the Tomb will return to its prior darkened state, whenever Axis sees fit to dismiss them.
A ripple of pink and yellow light washes over the pendant, then disappears. “There you go,” Alpha Trion says. “A few documents that you and the other Followers may find interesting: some long-lost records from the Golden Age, a few theological texts written by my fellow Primes, and Solus’s original schematics for your vehicle. It isn’t much, given the limited capacity of your device, but I hope it can be put to good use.”
With the necropolis temporarily brightened by whatever strange energies pulled the spirits of the Primes here, searching for Razor shouldn’t be too hard.
“Hey, we’re traveling with the Prime, two Knights of Cybertron, and Beta Maxx,” Salvage says. “Maybe even a god, if that walking scrap-pile’s somehow not completely insane,” he adds with a short laugh. It’s clear he doesn’t buy that story, either.
“We have strings to pull, man. We could probably hitch a ride on Excalibur II if we asked nicely. My best friend also happens to be the President-Czar-God-King of Junkion, and I helped save the universe a few millennia back. We’ve got resources.”
Outside the bridge’s main viewport, the civilians who had been escorted out of the Tomb of the Primes have now redirected their attention to the Pulsar. None are approaching the ship, though many are watching it ponderously- and examining its battle damage, in particular. The two Knights guarding he Tomb’s entrance have been dissuading the onlookers from taking pictures or videos, but some may have been able to steal a few quick photos when they weren’t looking.
Axis Prime smiled and nodded her head.
“Of course. Thank you Optimus. Your wisdom never fails to inspire me with confidence.”
Maximus was at first disappointed by the lack of Primes from his home world. But as he thought about it, that fact made him a bit happy, as it made Axis all the more special for being the first.
He decided to speak with the junkion prime. She certainly had a very distinct style which Maximus appreciated, and he liked the way she was able to tell off Nova Prime the way she did.
“Hey there.”
Maximus said cheerfully as he approached.
“So, what’s your deal?”
He asked.
Razor walks out from behind one of the pillars. Seeing Oreo in conversation with Defender, she walks over to them.
“Where were you,” she asks Oreo. “You almost missed this! It’s- it’s the only time this has ever happened.”
She describes how Axis had summoned the spirits of the other Primes with the Matrix, as Oreo listens. After a few minutes, Defender interrupts.
“I believe you might want to listen to the conversations, little one. If you are with the Prime on her mission, there is much that you can learn here and now.”
“The honor is mine,” Optimus replies, nodding in return. “It is not often that I am able to leave Trecedim, even in a limited form such as this.”
“Who, me?” Bombasticus Prime asks innocently as Maximus approaches. “Eh, nothing much. The ol’ crystal ball thought I had what it was looking for a few eons back, and I guess I didn’t do too bad of a job.”
“The Junkions still throw parties in your honor, Bombasticus,” the minicon Prime with shovels for hands comments. Bombasticus shrugs her shoulders.
“They’re Junkions. They’ll find any excuse to throw a party- ask me how I know.”
“Only so much can be learned from merely listening,” the spirit of a Prime with a featureless face and smooth white armor marked by black circular patterns remarks, drifting near the three. “Experience and action are great teachers. Pain, as well, though it is often more unpleasant.”
“They were our greatest enemy during the Golden Age, after Unicron,” Quintus tells Firestorm. “And for eons afterward, remnants of their forces terrorized this galaxy. They are invaders who live deep within transwarp space, pursuing objectives still largely unknown, even to us. But the one you travel with now seems… different. He may be a powerful ally.”
Something more dangerous and a bigger threat than Unicron himself…Firestorm’s Brian module has a mild crash. His optics turn blue and Dark shows up and looks. Yup, Firestorm blue-screened.
He winds up his arm and then slugs Firestorm, forcing a reboot.
“Ooookay, that is gonna take a bit to process.” Firestorm says.
“I shall guard it carefully lord Trion, and I will deliver it to him as soon as fair opportunity presents herself. However, I would not wish to take any more of your time. I’m sure the Young Prime requires your wisdom at the moment.”
“Looking like it might be a good idea to close the hatch. Don’t want any of the curious wandering onboard and calling problems.” Ivory comments, noting the crowd outside.
“Sometimes I forget just how much of our history you missed in that time-warp,” Quintus remarks, shaking his head. “The quintessons have not posed an organized threat to this galaxy in quite some time- hopefully, it will stay that way.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you, LD-L1,” Alpha Trion says pleasantly. “It isn’t often that we’re able to communicate with anyone other than the current Prime. Despite our disagreements, I’ve enjoyed our discussion.”
“I am not as isolated on Trecedim as you may believe,” Optimus replies. “My unique situation allows me to interact with both this plane and the next.”
“Sure is!” Bombasticus confirms. “Don’t get me wrong, ‘what you leave behind isn’t as important as how you lived’, and all that, but I think you should be allowed to take some comfort in knowing that you’ve gone down in the history books as a pretty alright gal, at least. You know what I’m talking about, I’m sure.”
“You know, I should’ve thought of that,” Salvage says, and he swings over to the helm to close the Pulsar’s hatches. The red Junkion retracts the cargo hold’s ramp and seals all of the ship’s airlocks.
“yeah, a lot happens when you’re literally falling in a place outside the void and time itself.” Firestorm says, “if Quintessons do attack, how can we defend ourselves?” he asks.
“I as well, Lord Trion. I bid you a well and happy future.” He gave as sort of bow with his hands clasp flat against each other. Then He attempted to return to the edges of the room, away from the center of attention. Instead he opted to meat one of the lesser-know primes, the one currently chatting with maximus. “Pardon my intrusion, young maximus,” he began as he approached the two “I simply wished to see Lady Bombasticus in the, well, not flesh, but in person. Please, do not let me interrupt you.” This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for LD-L1, and he wishes meet perhaps one of his more favored primes, at least in his personal view.
“There, we should be good for a while. Anything you want me to work on, or just sit and chat for a while?”
“Oh, well that is certainly pleasant. So do you speak with your brothers often then?”
Axis asked curiously.
Maximus gave an enthusiastic thumbs up in agreement.
“I definitely get what you’re saying. I may not be the biggest name around, but I got a feeling I’ll be remembered around Eukaris for a long time to come.”
“When the quintessons last invaded, it took nothing less than the combined might of the galaxy to defeat them,” Quintus Prime tells Firestorm. “I would speak to Aethus Prime if you wish to know more. He lead our people then, and fought on the front lines of the war with his soldiers.”
“‘Not the biggest name around’? Kid, humans on Avalon Prime learn about the Excalibur mission in school!” Bombasticus laughs. “You guys are more famous than I ever- oh hey, another fan!”
The Junkion Prime grins and snaps a pair of finger-guns toward LD-L1 as he approaches. “Really diggin’ the Tall, Dark, and Ominous vibe there, man,” she says approvingly. “Knew a guy like that way back- he could crush a bot’s head with his bare hands, it was wicked! Had to kill him though- long story, very tragic. Probably best not to ask.”
“I do,” Optimus replies. “Liege Maximo and Beta Maxx also visit me often, and the relay the Knights installed on the Trecedim enables me to access interstellar data networks.”
“Oh! Do tell her about your book club, Optimus!” Beta Maxx says teasingly.
Optimus shakes his head. “I use the relay to remain informed on current events, or to warn the rest of the New Imperium and other authorities in the event of an emergency. I have no interest in engaging with social media,” he says, his tone unchanging, as always.
“Alright, fine, if you say so,” Beta Maxx says with a chuckle. “But it’s quite alright for the Great Optimus Prime to have a social life, you know. Outside of chatting with the ghosts of your dead comrades-in-arms, I mean.”
“Uh… I’m not sure,” Salvage says, tapping his chin, producing a small ringing sound as metal struck metal. "We’ve got the prisoners locked up, the ship’s locked up, nobody’s trying to kill us right now- knock on wood- and now we’re just waiting for the rest of the gang to get back outside already. Ol’ Sentinel must’ve hidden whatever-it-is pretty good down there.
“I heard you say you were a P.I. over the comms, is that right?” he then asks. “Dug up anything interesting, or is that all confidential?”
“Oh, hey. Brakelight, didn’t notice you there.”
Maximus replied.
“Also holy scrap. I mean I knew the Excalibur mission was a big deal, but I didn’t realize it was that far spread.”
He said to Bombasticus.
Axis’ optics opened wide with interest and curiosity.
“Fascinating! I had always thought of your permanent residents on Trecedim to be a lonely one. But I’m thrilled to know that isn’t the case.”
“Wait, so if you have a data-net terminal but only ever use it for news and stuff, then what do you do for fun? Do you like to read? I can’t imagine you stand around and never do anything for recreation.”
Honeycomb asked.
“Seeing as I can do the same, hopefully we won’t have a repeat occurrence.” He said, a note of humor in his voice. In the meatime, he’d let Bombasticus and Maximus talk. He instead looked through his cloak for something.
“Well, there’s not a lot to go on. Considering the nature of the journal and the code that was inside it, the amount of possible subjects is miniscule. So Miniscule I’m not even sure where to start.” He said with a shrug “Not even Vector Sigma and Betamaxx could crack it, at least as far as I know. And when those two can’t figure it out, it’s a very small group of people who could be the culprit.”