PLAN FOR YOU

"Nobody can save me now,"

⬵⤁

"Cyclonus was a fool," Megatron growled angrily, stalking past Soundwave. "Not only did he not take the scout's infiltration seriously, but he thought he could rectify his mistake of the pest's escape! And now he has been captured by the Autobots."

Soundwave just observed his master pace back and forth in agitation, his dangerous servos clasped behind his back as he did so. The communications officer was perhaps the wisest of the Decepticon group, always listening and never speaking - just letting his master do as he needed.

"Why is it that my hand-picked executive officers, who perform admirably on Cybertron, become spineless cowards the moment they step on this planet?!" He hissed angrily. "I would not be surprised if Starscream has already begun interrogating him, and likely receiving all the information he wants."

"Dreadwing," Soundwave played the designation, earning a pause as Megatron considered the proposition.

"Perhaps; returning to this wretched planet would serve as apt punishment for allowing the bug to destroy our Cybertron Spacebridge," he mused, still thinking. "However, with the destruction on both sides of our Spacebridge, we must wait for construction before he can be summoned. We will destroy this Autobot threat. I clearly did not perform as thorough of a job as I should have. But this time . . . I will ensure every Autobot on this planet's soil is eliminated."

Soundwave did not argue that plan. There were now three confirmed original Team Prime members that were still online: Bulkhead, Wheeljack, and Bumblebee. The former two were hardly threatening; it was because of Starscream they could operate on the level that they did. However, they were still alive thanks to Knock Out, who unsurprisingly took his orders far too literally. He was instructed to allow the Autobots to believe it was a fight to use the Earth Spacebridge, just to sell the idea that they should go through and get to Cybertron. However, when the two Wreckers failed to make it, Knock Out allowed the ruse to drop, sparing Bulkhead over some silly sentiment.

The third in command did not believe such sentiment warranted punishment, so he kept the exchange to himself. However, Knock Out was well aware he should be on his best behavior, given that he had been instructed to stay on Earth. He knew that Soundwave knew.

"Soundwave," Megatron pulled the third in command effortlessly from his own private musing. "Inform Dreadwing of this development. There is another matter I must attend to."

His pet. Soundwave merely did as instructed, turning away as Megatron stalked from the room and through the New Darkmount halls.

Ratchet was still in his lab, working quietly as per usual. He turned slightly when he sensed his master's presence, watching the doors open to reveal the demon's form.

"I understand you had an encounter with the Autobot infiltrator during his escape," Megatron did not beat around the bush or attempt to entrap him in his own words, just going straight to the point.

"I did," the medic's optics slid away from his own, looking only slightly guilty. "I did not try to stop him."

"Out of sentiment?"

Ratchet paused, thinking back to their conversation. No, it was never out of sentiment. He despised what Bumblebee stood for: the lies, the false promises and the selfish will to keep fighting for a planet that they could never restore to its former glory. Cybertron had to change, and yet the fools had let themselves believe that life before the war was good. Bumblebee himself should have realized that, given that he had paid a heavy price for defending Optimus Prime, who abandoned him in his time of need.

If Ratchet had access to the medical technology the Decepticons had seized, and not left with the rudimentary tools the Autobots had to scrounge for, then the scout would not be suffering like he was now. He would still have his voice.

Satisfied with the answer he could sense through their eternal bond, Megatron gently stroked the side of his helm with the back of his digits.

"You must admit that Optimus Prime has a way with words; not only did he manipulate the Council into believing his lies, but even you were a slave to his distorted world," he murmured, whispering soft assurances, "even I, at one point, was smitten with his ideology. But such equivocations come at a terrible price. For the Autobot, his voice. For you, the homeworld you once held dear. And for me, an amica endura."

Ratchet shuttered his optics as grief washed across their bond, leaning against the touch.

"I'm sorry."

"Never apologize to me for what has come to pass," Megatron said, sharp denta poking through his grin. "I only came to ensure Cyclonus' foolery has not ripped you from me."

"He tried to take me," Ratchet opened his optics again. "Bumblebee attempted to sway me, but I saw through him. Why would he attempt to save me now when he had not done so in the past?"

"Sentiment is an odd thing," the tyrant offered. "Perhaps your presence is what spurred his guilt of inaction, prompting him to make a half-sparked attempt."

Ratchet nodded slowly, accepting the explanation. Of course it made sense - Bumblebee was feeding him the same pathetic excuses that Optimus gave when presented with the opportunity to save his friend.

You're a danger to us. We can't try because we know it will fail.

What a perfect excuse to not even try.

"Do not torment yourself," Megatron stroked the back of his helm in assurance, stilling the thoughts and emotions that began to boil to the surface. "You are safe here, my pet. I will ensure nothing ever takes you from me."

The medic nodded again, satisfied with the answer. Megatron was the one consistent, unwavering factor in all of this. The mech he could lean on, the dependable light in all of this surrounding darkness.

"Thank you, my master."

⬵⤁

Jack stood amongst titans, the groggy young man flanked by Miko and Rafael as they were quickly briefed on the situation.

Optimus Prime is alive.

Bumblebee swore by his own spark that he had seen the Autobot leader, and that at this moment, Optimus was barely clinging onto life. He knew the exact coordinates to reach him . . . but the problem was, the mech was on Cybertron.

Even three Earth years had not given Wheeljack enough time to try and build a Spacebridge that was even close to functional, and they could almost guarantee the Decepticon Spacebridge they had used before was heavily guarded. But with Jazz, Mirage, Ultra Magnus, Bulkhead, Wheeljack, and Starscream himself, they could most certainly attempt another Spacebridge takeover. They had done it before to send Jack to Cybertron.

However, they would likely need a distraction to keep the Decepticons from realizing their true goals.

"So, you need another guerilla attack," Jack posited, crossing his arms. "What do you have planned?"

"That is something we are still considering," Starscream answered. "We don't want to appear too convincing, otherwise Megatron may suspect we are up to something. But with Cyclonus still unconscious and time of the essence, we cannot make any particularly strategic moves. There are a few Decepticon outposts that could work as unsuspecting targets."

He pulled up a few locations up on the large monitor, displaying them for all to see.

"But, I am also uncomfortable sending a human-only task force to make the strike," Starscream frowned.

"And with our team as small as it is, we can't exactly afford to split it halvsies," Jazz continued. "But! We have a guy who could fix that in a pinch."

Gesturing to Mirage, the first lieutenant elaborated on his plan.

"If Mirage goes with the human squad, he can create the illusion that there are more of us. In doing so, I think we could dupe Megatron into thinking this is just another raid."

"So, you're going to need a team," Jack guessed. "Do you think you'll need human help to infiltrate the Decepticon Spacebridge?"

"Likely not," Starscream glanced at the soldiers milling about the base. "But it wouldn't hurt to have some on standby."

"So then, what's the plan?" Miko asked. "We invade the Spacebridge, kick some 'con butt, and get the boss 'bot back to base. We don't have a medic!"

"But we have mechanics," Agent Fowler spoke from his spot next to Starscream. "I'm already getting Wheeljack's lab prepped for him. If Bumblebee's rundown of his injuries are as severe as they sound, we will need to prepare for immediate medical support. Human mechanics have been tasked to the various areas of damage. Optimus is going to stay alive, whether he likes it or not."

"Rafael will be coordinating all of our movements," Starscream nodded towards the youngest of the humans. "You will be opening and closing Groundbridges according to what we tell you. Miko, you will assist the mechanics with Wheeljack. And Jack . . ."

"I'll be laying on the heat," he finished, noting Starscream's hesitance but electing to ignore it. "Colonel Lennox should be available to scramble a team together, and we'll take Mirage to whichever outpost you think is best."

"This will have to be a quiet operation," Ultra Magnus warned. "If any word gets out that Optimus is alive . . ."

"Megatron will hunt him, and us, down mercilessly." Starscream did not mince words, the weight of their failure weighing heavily on each individual.

There was a moment of silence, then Agent Fowler huffed.

"On that bright note . . . let's get everything prepped! The big guy can't wait around forever, we need to move, now!"

⬵⤁

Optimus Prime gazed up at the surface of the energon, feeling much weaker than he did the cycle prior. It had been some time since Bumblebee's visit, yet now the Prime was unsure if that was even real, or some kind of pre-death illusion.

Optimus could recall being close to death multiple times, the most recent incident having been as a victim of the Cybonic plague. Each time his team had managed to pull through for him, save his life even when all seemed hopeless. Even now, Bumblebee promised to return with help. But for once, the Prime could feel his spark flickering in and out of existence.

His waking moments were spent just watching the energon lake in its placid condition, occasionally disturbed by machinery or cyber-animals, all of which were oblivious to Optimus' presence. He refused to go into stasis for very long, always just doing brief system's checks and then reawakening. He feared that if he was not careful, he would never online again.

Though he always knew he would die, Optimus never expected it to be so slow. When Megatron had struck his chassis, he was convinced that was it; the end. But instead, he had reawoken to find himself in a sizeable crater, low on energon and with a prerogative to survive.

The energon lake had been pure luck. There was no way he had managed to just find it while blindly crawling away from his crash site. Yet he had fallen into it, slipping beneath the surface and realizing his life was temporarily saved. The limitless supply of energon allowed him to intake everything he needed while his nanites work. Yes, the raw, liquid form of energon was dangerous to his systems in large quantities, but he tried to convince himself that it was a temporary solution. Surely, he would eventually be found and repaired.

"We just have to get you back . . . to a medic!"

Optimus shuttered his optics, sadness washing over his spark in intense waves.

The idea that Ratchet was . . . gone destroyed him. He had wanted nothing more than to save his friend, but Megatron had played dirty. The tyrant had twisted the medic to his own designs, and convinced him that Optimus' inaction was secondary to his apathy for his oldest friend.

If Ratchet had been in his right mind, he believed he would have agreed with him. Nevertheless, Megatron got what he wanted - he destroyed the Autobots from the inside out.

The Prime could not even fathom what was happening outside of his safe haven, here. Had Megatron used the Omega Lock on Cybertron? On Earth? Had the Autobots already launched another counter-attack? How was the rest of Team Prime?

Optimus felt his spark tug. Arcee was confirmed offline, and though he wanted to accuse Megatron of lying, he knew he could not. He could only imagine Arcee's last moments, likely in excruciating pain as Megatron toyed with her before ripping out her spark.

And where was Smokescreen? The rookie had grown on Optimus, but he had been abducted Soundwave, and had yet to be accounted for. He feared that Smokescreen too had befallen the same fate as Arcee.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack . . . they had not joined him on Cybertron, but he had to believe they were okay.

Even in the lake, Optimus could feel the energon tears which leaked through his optics. He had failed. He had failed humanity, his own team, Cybertron. Megatron's tyranny had to be stopped; otherwise the entire universe would suffer.

It was almost inconceivable to think that Primus had allowed evil to prevail. Even in their darkest times, they seemed to find a solution, a way to solve their problem.

Now, Optimus was dying at the bottom of a lake, waiting for help that might never come.

I have to help myself.

He attempted to move, but his chest screamed in agony. His exposed spark pulsed angrily as it was aggravated, and he just settled farther into the sediment with a cry of pain. He shuttered his optics.

Not yet . . . not until I heal.

The lie to himself was obvious, and he had no idea why he even tried such a thing. It was too clear to him that he was going to die; saying otherwise would not just make it come true.

He shifted his gaze to the glow in his chest. It pulsed softly, the Matrix of Leadership trying to give him guidance . . . but even the collective wisdom of the Primes could only prepare him for passing on the Matrix to a new, worthy member.

Optimus would have to consider his successor, as morbid as it was. Even if he did not wholly decide, the Matrix would choose on its own with his wisdom added to the ever-evolving pool. It would almost make the choice as if Optimus himself had settled on who would bear this burden.

Though he was admittedly tired, Optimus would never pass down the Matrix while he was still alive. It was his obligation, and it would be selfish to give it to someone while he was still capable of carrying it. Besides, he started this war . . . he had to finish it. For his people, his friends, for Earth.

He closed his optics once more, however he did not rest.

I cannot rest. I cannot die. Not while Megatron still lives.