“Of course,” Defender replied.
He held out his arm, and a hologram of the journal entry appeared above his fist, flickering slightly against his dark armor.
I need to fix the refresh rate, he thought.
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Razor finds storage for the equipment in a nearby storage area. She rents a locker for a small fee, and then heads into the city, looking for the other members of the group. As she walks, she admires the gleaming statues of heroes and leaders, the sun glinting from the painted armor as though the figures could come to life. She remembers reading a similar legend about a human leader from ancient times, how it was said he would return to defend his kingdom against the final threat.
If only such stories were not merely stories, she thought. It would be amazing to speak to heroes like Ratchet, or Rodimus.
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Firestorm nods and heads towards where Axis was holding the meeting.
Seraphicon inquired about armaments for defense on the ship.
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While Axis was inside doing whatever it is that she was doing, Niko and Nova had parked their machines outside the Primal Basilica. The two were talking to each other in a video call within the cockpits of their mecha. All because they were both far too bored to sit in silence, but Nova wasn’t willing to just stand and talk outside.
The girl groaned in pained irritation. “Come on. How long are they gonna be in there? I thought we were coming back to this place just to pick up some stuff before we left.”
“Well Axis is the leader of everybody, and a lot has happened lately. Maybe she just got caught up in a meeting or something?” Niko suggested.
“I guess. But I wish she’d just hurry it up already! I’m tired of waiting.” Nova complained.
“Oh! I have an idea for how to pass the time. It’s been a few days since I got some good guitar practice in. I could work on that, and you could listen in and give some feedback”
“Wait, you’re a musician?” The girl asked curiously.
“Yeah? I told you I wanted to be a rockstar.”
“You told me that you told your grandpa you wanted to be a rockstar. I figured you were talking about when you were a kid.”
“Nope! It’s my dream to follow in my dad’s footsteps and become a legendary rockstar! My name is gonna be known all across the galaxy. As soon as I can get a band together anyway.”
“Huh. No kidding.” Nova replied, mildly impressed by the boy’s ambition.
“Yep! Back home I used to practice all the time, and most of the time I’d have friends over so they could listen and tell me what they thought. And I figured we could do the same thing while we wait.”
The girl leaned back in her seat as she thought the idea over.
“I mean I wouldn’t call us friends, but sure. Sounds like a good way to kill some time.” She said casually.
“Wait, what? What do you mean we’re not friends?” Niko asked. Mostly out of confusion, though there was a noticeable amount of nervous worry in his voice.
Nova sat up and leaned back forward, looking directly back at Niko.
“Come on man. Think about it. You barely know anything about me, and I don’t know that much more about you. The only reason we’re even talking right now is because we both got roped into the same crazy space quest, and I put up you following me around all the time.”
Niko felt like an ice pick had been driven into his heart. He put on a forced smile in order to keep up the conversation, but his ears betrayed how he really felt. They slowly drooped down until they could hardly be seen.
“Oh… I see… I’m sorry. I guess I misunderstood a few things.” He desperately tried to keep up his composure, but it was painfully obvious the boy felt hurt.
Nova felt a terrible pang of guilt strike her chest. An emotion she was largely unfamiliar with, but she still recognized that she had seriously messed up.
Oh come on. This is exactly why I don’t like talking to people!
“No, stop. Don’t take it personally, I didn’t mean it like that.” She hastily replied.
“I already told you I’m not good with people remember? That extends into making friends. I just don’t do social relationships. I basically never have. The only real friend I’ve had in my life was a babysitter robot my parents got for me when I was a toddler, so he could look after me while they were busy. And I haven’t seen him in…” Nova paused as she momentarily reflected on when she last saw her mechanical companion. And her expression changed to something just a little bit sorrowful.
“Well, in a long time.”
“Okay, that makes-”
“Shut up, I’m not done.” Nova abruptly cut him off.
"Ever since I’ve been out on my own, no one’s ever really talked to me. Whenever I stop at a space station or some colony to get food and supplies, no one ever approaches me. They probably see me as quiet and standoff-ish. And to be honest, that’s exactly how I like it. No one getting in my way or wasting my time. But you? You’re… different.
“You’re annoying and persistent and you never leave me alone. But at the same time you listen and you care. You’re the first person in years who’s asked me if I’m okay. The first person in a long time to look at me and actually bother to care. And… I guess I just forgot how important that is.”
Niko’s ears subtly perked back up. He looked at her with a curiously interested expression with a hint of a smile.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is…” Nova paused as she struggled to put the right words together in her head. In the end saying something that wasn’t exactly what she was thinking, but got the message across fine enough.
“I just think you’re cool okay? I’m not ready to really consider you a friend. Or anyone for that matter. It isn’t personal. I’m just not there yet. But at the same time, if you want to keep following me around and hanging out, I won’t mind.”
Niko’s smile became bright and genuine, and his ears perked back up all the way.
“I think I understand what you’re getting at. I’m happy to be appreciated.”
“Yeah well, whatever. Don’t make a huge deal about it.” Nova spat out.
“Nope! That’s just fine.” Honeycomb replied happily.
Axis gave an affirming nod to Downburst. She hoped Firestorm’s added insight would help to wrap this meeting up a little faster. Though for now she simply waited to see what the rest of the council had to say regarding the symbols Defeander showed.
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Firestorm enters just as Defender shows Chancellor Patel of Amity an image of the last entry in Sentinel Prime’s journal- the image and English text decoded within the Tomb of the Primes. Knight-Commander Ironclad bows his head as the Headmaster approaches, and Bootleg waves to his fellow Relic Hunter.
Nirali studies the enigmatic crest intently, though after a moment, she shakes her head. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t know what this symbol means,” she reports with a sigh. “Sentinel lived over twenty-million five-thousand years ago; it’s possible that whatever he was referencing, whatever this was supposed to represent, no longer exists.”
Behind the Amitian woman, however, a spark of recognition flashes in the cyan eyes of Optimus Prime. The ancient demigod quickly extinguishes it before any of the other colony leaders can notice it, however.
Unfortunately, rental spacecraft are required by law to not be fitted with weapons. This ship does, however, sport heavier armor than the Pulsar, and features emergency beacons and decoys to confound potential attackers.
While walking through the city, Razor might pass by one monument honoring the Autobots’ human allies in the Great War, depicting a man and a woman standing in a field of white and yellow holographic flowers. The man wears a blue and gold dress uniform and has a ceremonial sword sheathed on his hip, while the woman wears black and grey battle armor with Autobot emblems stenciled onto the shoulder guards. A plaque rising from the base of the monument reads like so:
This monument is dedicated to Sergeant First Class Jameson Witwicky, Captain Wilhelmina Lennox, and all others of the human species who fought alongside the Autobots in the Great War. Their victory would not have been possible without your sacrifice.
Beneath the text is an image of a sword and an old lantern.
“I’m glad,” Quickdraw says. “Now as I was saying, living quarters are up top…”
The door to the engine room opens, and a huge Eukarian transformer steps into the cargo bay. Much of his body is coated in heavy brown fur, slick with engine grease, and a pair of long white tusks adorn his left arm.
“We’re all set, boss,” the mammoth-bot tells Quickdraw. “Just give the word, and we’ll-”
He stops as he spots Maximus and Honeycomb. “Slag, boss, you didn’t tell me we were havin’ guests!” he whispers to Quickdraw. “I’d have cleaned up first before coming out.”
“It’s fine, Avalanche; you’ve looked worse,” Quickdraw tells him. “Maximus and Honeycomb are looking for passage back home to Eukaris.”
“So they came to us?” Avalanche says. “The Prime’s conjux settles for a banged-up rust-bucket? I’m not sure I follow.”
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“Anyone mind bringing me up to speed?” Firestorm asks.
———————
Seraphicon inquires about if a shield generator could be safely installed alongside an FTL drive for enhanced speed and defense.
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Razor stares at the monument. The image seems somehow familiar…
Oreo! That’s it!
She remembered now, Oreo telling her of a dream he’d had. Whoever had built his body had captured some Autobot soldiers and forced them to help construct other servants of the Human government. The Autobots had attacked the building, destroying the laboratories and factory, and had managed to stop the illegal construction.
There had been a human there who mentioned someone called Witwicky who was with the Autobots…
Now she knew he was real. Now she knew that the dreams were real, not the delirious imaginings of a damaged mind.
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“Have you something to say Optimus?” Axis asked. She would speak to Firestorm in a moment. But not before extracting whatever little nugget the 13th Prime seemed to be hiding.
“It looked like the best option if you ask me. This ‘banged-up rust-bucket’ looks like it’s been through its fair share of scraps. Anything that can get into whatever this thing’s been through and come out in one piece is pretty dependable to me.” Maximus replied with a grin.
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“What should we be doing?”
Oreo looks at Kitai, his expression both excited and nervous. “Should we tell the Commander about ourselves, or help the others?”
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“Your companions were apprising us of recent events, sir,” Ironclad tells Firestorm, the show of deference raising some eyebrows among the other members of the council. “It’s been a… productive discussion so far. Though perhaps not as productive as some might like…”
Optimus hesitates before speaking, looking at Defender’s hologram of the mysterious emblem again. The councilors’ eyes all turn expectantly to him.
“I may know what this symbol represents,” the thirteenth Prime confesses to the group. “But, to reveal its significance here would share information that the current Prime may wish to keep among her companions.”
Oddball emits a quiet stuttering sound, which goes untranslated by his communicator. Hammerhead of Gigantion shakes his head.
“It is as the Primes will,” Rampart remarks, casting a chastising glare at the vergrandian minicon.
“Speak with Beta Maxx,” Optimus tells our heroes. “He will know this emblem’s significance as well, and will tell you what you need to know.”
“Oh, she’s dependable, alright,” Avalanche says proudly. “But she’s no Knight cruiser.”
“Perhaps our guests desire a more discreet mode of transport,” Quickdraw suggests to his friend. More quietly, he whispers, “Partner, do you want their shanix or not?”
Avalanche comes to his senses and nods. “Welcome aboard!” he says to Maximus and Honeycomb, now in a lighter, friendlier tone.
“Shield generator?” the engineer Seraphicon has been speaking to- a Concordian combiner made from a forklift, a crane truck, and red pickup- repeats. “I can do that, yeah- but why? Where are you gonna be taking this thing?”
Indeed, many of the monuments in Iacon commemorate other war heroes that Oreo may have told Razor about- it seems there is much truth in his tales after all. There are also memorials for heroes from other times in cybertronian history, like the first twelve Knights of Cybertron, the crew of the Salvation expedition, and even Firestorm and Seraphicon.
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“Considering the fact pirates are a thing, a shield generator would be a wise investment and I’d like to bring this beautiful vessel back with minimal damage.” Seraphicon says.
————————-
Firestorm nods, “has the theory about Quintessons being involved been presented?” He asks.
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“Thank you Optimus. I’ll be sure to contact Beta Maxx when I have the chance. And no, I don’t believe quintessons have been brought into the discussion yet. I don’t believe there’s much evidence to dictate they are involved. But at this point I suppose anything is possible.” Axis replied.
“Very good! So then, where are those living quarters?” Maximus asked cheerfully.
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“Point taken, my friend,” the Concordian Combiner replies. “I can get that generator installed right away.”
The man splits apart into his component bots, two of the three running off to fish the shield module out of storage. The third remains with Seraphicon to complete the payment for both renting the ship and the installation.
At the mere mention of the quintessons, a near-tangible current of dread washes over the council chamber. The lights in Oddball’s eyes shrink into tiny pinpricks, and Ironclad reflexively tightens his grip on his sword’s hilt. All heads turn to look at Firestorm.
“What reason do you have to suspect the quintessons’ involvement?” Sum-of-Many asks the Headmaster.
“Right up this way, as I was saying,” Quickdraw replies, pointing up a set of stairs. He leads Maximus and Honeycomb up to the next deck, which holds four small rooms - each containing a recharging platform and a storage locker, and little else- and a common area with a holographic terminal in its center.
“It’s got less comforts than you’re used to, I’m sure,” Quickdraw says, “but it’s what I got.”
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“We spoke with past Primes in the Tomb and a number of them mentioned the possibility that Quintessons could be involved given their interest in trying to subjugate our kind.” Firestorm says, “from my research, they even gave the Original 13 a hard time and they’ve only learned and adapted from their subsequent encounters.”
——————————
Seraphicon nods, “do you need any help getting it installed?” He asks, bringing out the shanix.
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The narrow strip of blue light over Sum-of-Many’s ocular unit stares through Firestorm as the combiner recalls the gruesome battles to which he refers: frenzied melees in which they and Nexus Prime stood side-by-side against innumerable hordes of twisted biomechanical abominations.
“You are correct,” they say. “Though without any substantial evidence to suggest a quintesson hand in these attacks, it is difficult to know where to begin investigating this possibility.”
“Somehow, a human man knew about a twenty-million five-thousand year-old cybertronian conspiracy that nobody else had any idea existed until two days ago,” Autobahn of Velocitron comments. “That’s got an air of quintesson-like fishiness about it, doesn’t it?”
“Everything about Gabriel is still a mystery, I’m afraid,” Chancellor Patel sighs. “Human law enforcement agencies across the UHP are still searching criminal and civic databases for someone like him, but considering what little they have to go on, and the reality that it has only been two days…”
“Well, you’ve got his name now,” Bootleg of Junkion remarks. “That oughta help a little, right?”
“Be my guest,” the forklift-bot says. “If you’d like us to add anything else, just say the word.”
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“I’ll inquire as the impulse arises.” Seraphicon says as he goes to help with the installation.
—————————-
“I doubt they’d use their real name.” Firestorm says, “plus, the humans we interrogated showed genuine fear for their lives if they revealed anything about their client; from my own rather limited research, Quintessons often like to implant spies and means of tracking and listening in on those they hire for their dirty work.”
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At this remark, Defender can’t help laughing quietly.
“That’s right. We’ve got a name, but what if it’s an alias? Actually, do we know of anyone who has used an alias of Gabriel or similar names before?”
Razor arrives near the Primal Basilica and sits down on a nearby bench, feeling tired from running around the city. She sends Oreo a message:
“I’m sorry for having criticized your dreams a while back. It wasn’t until today that I realized they appear to be actual memories of your body. That Witwicky guy you mentioned a few times is a real person. There’s several monuments to him.”
She hits send, then slumps over. A feeling of intense exhaustion fills her, as her vision dims and blurs.
“Zzzzz… Huh? Oh, nott thassagainn…”
Razor falls asleep, staring blankly across the square, lying full-length on the bench.
Oreo receives the message, but he’s still watching the conference. He decides to wait a while so he can read the message without disturbing the meeting. I doubt they would be offended, he thought, but I’d rather not seem inattentive.
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“Compared to living in the Below, this isn’t so bad.” Said Honeycomb.
Maximus looked down to the insecticon curiously.
“What makes you say that?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I love my home. But living in a hole in the ground with ten thousand neighbors isn’t exactly what I’d call high quality living.”
She replied.
“It is the unfortunate truth that we have next to no information to work from. And it’s precisely for that reason why we should take action. While we stand here deliberating over nothing, Primus only knows what plans he’s putting into motion.”
Axis firmly stated.
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I mean, I am standing right here, so, obviously.
Kitai voiced to himself. How long is this going to drone on for again?
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“Would you know of anything?”
Oreo asked, his voice sounding small in the great room. “I mean, you were with Lady Axis before I arrived.”
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