Chapter 1

A year ago, if you told him that aliens existed, and that they were on this very planet, he would have laughed. Of course- if there really was something alien, something otherworldly, hiding here, someone would have noticed. Surely, within a matter of a few weeks, there would have been something that would cause suspicion.

A few months ago, if you told him that this war he had, unwillingly, become a part of would one day depend on him, of all humans, he would be afraid. He was not a warrior, or a leader. He was a sixteen year old middle schooler, who spent all his life in a secluded, barely heard of town in Nevada, with next to no turism. How could he, possibly, be the one to decide the future of an intergalactic conflict, which had moved to Earth even before he had been born?

And yet, despite his doubts, despite it all, here he stood, amidst the titans he had only so recently met, their lives, possibly, depending on whether his mission would be a success.

He looked down, staring at the small device he held, yet again marveling at just what the palm sized, seemingly unimportant piece of metal held. He looked back up, into the blue, shining optics above him, as a small smile spread across his face. He could do it. He had gone so far, visited an alien planet and come back. He could do it.

And so he raised his hand, holding out the shining device, catching a glimpse of fear, uncertainity, awe and curiousness, a swirling pool of emotions looking back at him from behind the blue optics far above him.

„Are you certain… I'm worthy?" came the oh so familiar voice, the deep rumble that could shake the walls, that radiated wisdom, that demanded respect. And yet… it felt so… alien. This wasn't the baritone which Jack had heard so many times, that he had come to associate with peace and kindness, and which he admired. It was too soft, too… quiet, betraying the fact that despite the terrifying similiarity this was not Optimus.

„You have no idea.." whispered Jack. Time seemed to stop as the words left his mouth, like an invisible blanket had been thrown around them, slowing the world down, just for the smallest of moments. The Key lit up with a blue, almost white light.

And then it was gone, and he was met with the reality, just as the sound of a charging weapon, which had become painfully familiar, reached his ears, followed by a high pitched hum. Somewhere, he thought he could hear Arcee scream his name, just as a burning, searing pain spread through his torso.

His head shot up, and, for the last time, he met gazes with Orion Pax.

Rafael opened the Ground Bridge, waiting to greet Bumblebee as he ran down the stairs, stopping just several meters in front of the swirling vortex.

And he waited. Seconds passed, and then a whole minute.

And then, finally, he saw a flash of yellow of black run through the portal. The young boy turned to see his guardian, expecting to hear the beeping followed by a drawn out, low buzz that his guardian used as a greeting.

But when his eyes looked up, he was surprised to find the scout frantically looking back, optics wide with fear and worry. His doorwings were hanging from his back, as a quiet whir made its way through his damaged vocalizer.

Just then, different footsteps followed the scout through the Bridge. Everyone immediately recognized them, and turned, full of expectations, to welcome their leader, as he rushed through the tunnel, followed by the rest of his team.

Only… One person seemed to be missing.

June's eyes widened as she scanned the newly returned group, searching for the grey and white space suit. She prayed, silently, to anyone out there, that he was just standing behind one of the Autobots' leg, that he would step out.

And yet her pleas remained unheard.

„Optimus..." she almost whispered, as her face twisted in a mix of fear and worry. „Where is… Where is Jack?"

She looked up, into the giant, shining orbs of blue that hung above her. She scanned the silver faceplate with her pleading eyes, looking for any sign, any explanation. She expected him to say something, she expected, wanted to hear that rumble, to hear the Prime's soothing voice, as he told her that her son, her precious son was alright.

And then she noticed. She gazed down slightly, looking at the Prime's servos, which were closed, holding… something close to his chest, as if to prevent his very Spark from escaping its metallic shell.

A soft, clicking sound forced her attention to snap back up, as Optimus opened his intake valve, and tried to speak. „I- I'm… I'm sorry..." he sounded unsure, scared, his voice wavering with regret. He then opened his servos, and walked over to the medical berth close by, his loud, booming footsteps the only sound in the otherwise silent silo, as even the Ground Bridge had been powered down.

As the giant finally reached his destination, he bent down, and set his shaking servos down on the flat surface. The black digits unfolded with a gentleness someone his size should not be capable of, as he finally set the contents of his servo down.

June could not see what was behind the red and blue mech, but the gasps of her fellow humans told her enough.

„June-"

She ignored Fowler's warning. She had to see- this couldn't… No, no it couldn't be true, Optimus would never allow that. He would rather die than… „No.." she whispered as she rushed past the agent, brushing away the hands that tried to stop her.

She finally skidded to a stop, the cold, metal railing hitting her in the guts with enough force to cause a bruise. But she ignored it, ignored the distant, concerned voiced around her, because all her attention, every atom of her being was being pulled down, down to the ground as her eyes widened at the sight before her.

Tears, stinging, salty tears ran down her cheeks as she stared at the burned, charred scafander, seemingly fused with the body it was supposed to protect. Glass was gone, melted away by the heat. If it weren't for the suit, it would be impossible to recognize the being underneath.

But she knew. She could recognize her son anywhere.

„Jack!" she screamed and flew down the stairs, nearly falling down as her legs tried to carry her as fast as possible, for in that moment, all of her medical training was gone, thrown away, buried deep underneath the searing pain brought on by what remained of her precious son.

She finally hit the ground and tried to continue forward, but found that she was being restrained by a small pair of metallic servos, which held her back, the touch firm, but kind and understanding.

„June, I'm… We're sorry. There's nothing you can do now..."

The nurse finally stopped resisting, and instead turned around, her sadness fueling the anger which had been building up within her. She looked up, eyes locked with Arcee's as she fumbled for words, yet couldn't find any. She was furious. She had every right to be- they swore to protect the children, and yet they failed. Arcee was Jack's guardian, it was her responsibility, her duty to make sure that he was alright, to protect him from dangers that June could not . And here she was, completely unscathed, while her charge, who she swore to take care of, was- was…

June's breathing hitched as the thought flashed in her mind, pushing everything else aside.

Her son, her Jack, was dead.

Her knees finally gave out, as she fell down, tears soaking into her white coat.

Agent Fowler finally snapped out of his shock as he attempted to regain his composure. He succeeded, partially, for as soon as he spoke, his voice cracked, and he had to start again. „Prime… what happened?"

The Autobot leader did not move, nor did he seem to notice that his name had been spoken, his optics still looking down at the woman, filled with regret.

Instead, it was Ratchet who answered. „Agent Fowler, I'm afraid that there was not enough time. From what I know, the transfer from the Key to the Matrix had not even begun, when..." the medic trailed off, letting out a deep vent, his plating shuddering. He then looked at the larger mech next to him, before offlining his optics for a moment. „I shall bridge the kids to their respective homes."

Several minutes later, the Ground Bridge closed, its green light disappearing with it, leaving the five Autobots, along with Agent Fowler alone in the base. The former ranger rubbed the bridge of his nose as he leaned forward, resting his hands against the railing, head hung low for a few seconds, before he looked up. „So..." he finally spoke, voice quieter, calmer than his usual tone. „Orion Pax, I presume?" he scanned the large mech's faceplate.

„That is me, yes. And you are.." the mech paused for a moment, optics flickering away from the human and then back as he resumed. „You are Agent Fowler, right?"

„Yes. Look, big guy, you… You're probably confused, and right now, there's a lot of thing's I'll have to do to clean this mess up, so we'll keep this brief. I need ya to tell me what happened to Jackson."

Orion Pax looked at the human in front of him, studying his face. „He was shot. By Megatronus- Megatron." he quickly corrected his mistake. That had not been Megatronus. His brother would never do anything like this. Orion looked away, as his optics scanned his surroundings, before eventually landing on his left shoulder pad. This was not Megatronus.

Agent Fowler straightened his back and turned around, walking towards the elevator. „I'll be back in a few days for the complete report." he sighed, and stepped in, before pressing the button and letting the heavy doors close in front of him.

Just as the lift disappeared from view, Arcee turned around as well, but, instead, headed towards the tunnel which led outside.

„Arcee, where in the Pit are you going?" exclaimed Ratchet. „You're damaged! Come back he-"

„I'm going on patrol." she cut him off with a cold tone, not even bothering to turn around and look at him as she shifted into her vehicle mode and drove away.

„I'm going after her." said Bulkhead and took a few steps forward, before being promptly stopped by a now furious Ratchet, who, despite the difference in mass, grabbed the larger mech and dragged him back. „You-" he looked at him, „take the other two slaggers and go wait in the med bay." it was clear that there was no discussing this- the two mechs had learned this the hard way, while Orion simply took one look at the medic's faceplate and nodded, knowing that disobeying his friend would almost certainly mean a wrench in the helm.

And so the trio turned around, with Bumblebee and Bulkhead in the front, and Orion simply following. As they walked, the archivist could not help but look around, optics scanning every little detail, from the smallest cracks in the concrete, to the way the halls were layed out. He was almost certain that this… base was not of Cybertronian origin, but was, rather, built by the very natives of this small planet. He listened as his large pedes boomed with every step, the sound reverberating off the surrounding walls. He was rather curious. Why were the Autobots residing in a human building, when they were, supposedly, attempting to remain hidden? Why were the humans in the base in the first place?

He shook his helm slightly. Then again, Megatron had told him this. It was entirely possible that it was just another lie, another deception created in order to help support what he had been led to believe- which, as Orion was quickly learning, was nothing more than a giant pile of lies and twisted or incomplete truth.

And yet… Asking wouldn't hurt, would it?

Orion looked back forward, and tried to connect the names to their rightful owners. Bulkhead, and… Bumblebee. Bulkhead and Bumblebee, yes, of course. Hoping he got the designations right, he spoke.

„Bulkhead, if you don't mind me asking… I thought you, the Autobots, were supposed to be in hiding?"

At this, the green mech shrugged, and continued walking. „Ya got that right, Boss Bot. Why?"

Orion simply hummed, yet again lost in thoughts. There was a lot that he would like to ask, and yet, he felt that he shouldn't- not now, at least. Whoever Jack had been, it was obvious that his… absence had affected everyone present, even the Autobots. As far as he could tell, the femme- Arcee was her name- had been hit the hardest out of all the mecha. From the quick contact of their EM fields, he had been almost overwhelmed by the storm of emotions that swirled within her Spark.

Now that he concentrated, the two mechs' fields were very much the same. Raw grief filled the silent, empty hallways with heavy waves, threatening to drown anyone who swam came too close. He suspected that bringing this matter up would only worsen their mood further.

His helm hung low, he decided that it would be best to keep his questions to himself.

The three mechs remained silent, until they reached their destination- the med bay.

Only now did Orion realize that what seemed like several minutes to him, was in fact just a few seconds worth of walk. He stepped through the door frame, and looked around the room he had found himself in. To his surprise, it looked nothing like a mebay. There were the basics, yes, but it seemed devoid of any proper tools or supplies.

First of all, it was rather small, smaller than he remembered Ratchet's… questionable clinic, which he had visited on more than few occasions. On his left, almost in the corner, was a single medical berth, with a few monitors stacked behind it, ready to be used. On the other side of the room sat a small table, with datapads thrown all around it, along with an empty Energon cube and a small scanner. Besides that, the only other things in the ‚medbay' were a few cubes of what Orion guessed to be med-grade, a Cybertronian sized chair, few devices and tools that, from the way they were put together, looked like they could only worsen whatever injury they were supposed to fix, and, finally, a large board. It seemed strangely familiar, but it took him some time to realize where he had seen it; it seemed like far larger version of what he recalled humans used oftenly in… In… schools? Was it a school? He vaguely recalled its name.

His train of thoughts was interrupted when Ratchet walked in, pointing a digit at Bumblebee. „You- berth. Now."

The yellow mechling did as he was told, sitting on the cold surface, pedes dangling above the ground.

As Ratchet moved to stand next to Bumblebee, his in-built scanner hovering over the younger Bot's injuries, Orion continued to look at his surroundings, his helm swarmed with thoughts, questions and worries, all of them demanding his attention right away. He tried to recap everything that had happened in the past month, from his awakening in the strange chamber, to his arrival to the Autobots' base.

Autobots…

He recalled how Megatron had spoken of them, the monstrosities they had committed. He recalled what he had told him about their leader himself- the fearsome Ratchet, Doctor of Doom, a warlord and a monster.

And yet, here he was, and in that moment he knew that all of that was nothing more then lies.

He knew that now. He had made a mistake, and a horrible one at that.

„Orion?"

The archivist jolted at the sudden voice, snapping his attention back to reality, only to find three sets of concerned faceplates staring at him. Apparently, Ratchet had been trying to gain his attention for quite some time now, and had only now succeeded.

Orion reset his optics, and answered, „I'm sorry, Ratchet. Yes?"

„You need to get a check up. You may be damaged."

„Ratchet, I'm completely-"

„Are you the doctor, Pax? I'm not taking any chances."

The red and blue mech ex-vented, before doing as he was told. For several long moments there was only silence, as he stayed in the exact same position, slightly hunched over so that his friend could scan his chasis. He welcomed the silence- after the chaos that had overtaken the several hours, the calmness seemed like a blessing.

With a loud ex-vent, the mech turned his helm to face the medic, scanning him. When he'd first seen him at the Space Bridge, the only difference he noticed was the placement and shape of his plating- which, as he was sure now, was merely the result of having changed his alt. mode, probably to fit in with this planet's vehicles.

But now that he looked closer, he was unnerved just at how… exhausted Ratchet looked. He'd seen him tired, after a long operation, a busy day at the clinic.

But he'd never seen him like… This. Small scratches littered the medic's faceplate, which seemed worn, old, like he had been to the Allspark and back. Old scars ran across his frame, some healed up, while others fresh, some of them he guessed to be the result of his earlier attempt at stopping Megatron from-

He lowered his optics, the questions swarming his processor yet again. Just… why had someone entrusted the Key to Vector Sigma, to a small, not even matured human? Whoever had given him the task of keeping it had either been unfamiliar with the sheer fragility of humans, or, simply didn't care.

He finally gathered his courage, and spoke.