Optimus part Twenty Four

Optimus briskly jogged through the forest. He weaved between trees, leaping over logs and side stepping small ponds. He quickly and nimbly dodged, rolled and slid past obstacles, leap-fogging over a boulder and rolling down a steep hill. He came to a river and jogged right through, the strong current doing little to impede a being his size. After crossing and re-entering the foliage, he made a few more flashy leaps and bounds before slowing to a stop. Optimus, panting as he gave his internal mechanisms a reprieve, surveyed the dense forest containing him. “Yup, I’m lost.” He said. He looked past the canopy, hoping he could see the sun. Unfortunately it was too dense, and only trace light was sending faint spots across his body. He realised he’d have a better view from the river, where the forest split, and was just about to heel-turn when he heard a twig snap. He stopped suddenly, freezing solid. He listened for any out-of-place noises. A dark pillar moved back and forth in front of his face as a leaf drifted down, casting a shadow through the air in front of him. Just as it gently, lazily sunk beneath his nose, from above dropped a mass that attached to his face. Optimus reeled back, flailing and screaming as his attacker grasped his face. Then another, and another, until at lest half a dozen small fiends assaulted the Autobot, who stumbled screaming and convulsing, smashing trees and crushing hollow logs all the way to the river where he fell backwards into the current. The attackers were swept away, only to manage to fight the current long enough to reach the other side. Optimus watched as six furry little monsters retreated to the dry shore. “Stupid possums…” Optimus’ voice cracked as he cursed the creatures from afar. He sat in the river as he rubbed his head, which he had hit lightly when he fell. Behind him he heard a creaking. With a sinking feeling Optimus turned around, just as a tree, weakened by a blow from his theatrics, tipped towards him, hitting the robot square on the head. The blow hurt, hard, as he reeled back from the hit. His vision was fuzzy, but what he saw didn’t look like the forest, but instead was the pale metallic blue of… “Careful now, Ops.” A voice from behind said. Optimus shook his head and the world around him sharpened into his old workplace on Cybertron. He turned, and behind him stood a silver and blue robot who stood, hands on hips, with a humble grin on his face. “I told you to duck when you use the crank.” “Sorry, Orion.” Optimus said. “What can I say? It snuck up on me.” “Because winch cranks are known for their stealth, of course.” Orion offered his hand to Optimus, who took it and was lifted off the ground. “You know, I didn’t sign up for this. Manual labour.” Optimus picked up a rag and wiped his hands. “That’s for metal heads like you.” Orion laughed, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Hoisting signs is the closest you’ve ever gotten to a workout. A little iron-pumping should be good for you. If you ever expect to join the Autobots…” Orion was cut off by Optimus folding his scrawny arms. “Are you gonna help me get this sign up or what?” Optimus motioned to the crank. Orion gently moved Optimus aside and with out hand cranked the winch, reeling in the lien and raising the sign up into place. Pre-applied magnets grabbed the sign, perfectly securing it into position. “Show-off.” Optimus remarked. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” Orion grabbed the rag Optimus held and wiped oil from his arm joints, tossing it to optimus, who cringed. Orion laughed. “Alright, I guess you can take it from here, kiddo. Time the important Orion Pax got a move on.” “Going out to see your ‘partners?’” Optimus flippantly remarked. Orion’s cheerful tone faded, but he remained nonetheless warm. “You should be more grateful. My business partners are the reason we even have this shop in the first place, so show a little respect.” Orion said. “I don’t like it, Orion. I heard they’re into some shady stuff. I was talking to Xaaron-” Optimus was cut off. “Don’t listen to that eight-bit, Optimus.” Orion said. “He doesn’t know when to keep quite.” “But-” “But nothing.” Orion’s tone was more harsh. Optimus knew it was time to be quiet. Orion’s stern expression softened. “Now you get in there and get things going. I’ll be back soon to help, don’t worry. You can’t have the grand opening of ‘Double-O’s Pawn and Loan’ without that first ‘O’, can you?” “I thought I was the first ‘O’?” Optimus joked. Orion winked and transformed into his five-wheeler mode before driving off into the street. Optimus turned to the sign, then walked towards the building it was on. He ducked inside and thumbed a switch on the wall before returning to his place outside in time to see the two large stylised ‘O’s flicker on, followed by the remaining store name in simpler, smaller Cybertronian text. “‘Double-O’s’…” Optimus repeated to himself. He stared at the sign as it glowed a warm orange. He felt a calm, soothing sensation as he watched it. But then something changed. The glow became less intense. The comforting sensation was replaced by unrest and gloom. The sign because to dip, the building it was one went from shiny and new to rusty and dilapidated. Optimus watched as his dream died in front of him. He looked to his left. A bulletin stand displayed a news story. “Double-O’s Orion Pax arrested on suspicion of weapon smuggling.” stood out like a needle in the eye. Optimus looked to his right, and there sat Orion Pax and a cell. “I’m sorry kiddo.” Orion said. Optimus looked back to the sign, now cracked and missing one of the ‘O’s. The sign dipped forward slightly before breaking off and crashing to the ground, smoke jutting into the air. As the dust cleared the building had disappeared, and instead he saw the Autobot enlistment offices. A familiar, uncomfortable sight. He sombrely walked towards the offices and was admitted in to see a recruitment officer. The process raced by, from the physical exam to the interview all the way to basic training. It was like a sped up version of his most vivid memories. It kept it’s dizzying pace until Optimus stood in line in a training field with other robot of different sizes and colours. Optimus felt his cheeks waver, his lip tremble. His brow furrowed and he stood straighter than ever before or since. From what this was caused by was not clear. Sadness, fear, anxiousness. He felt a nudge to his right, and he looked to the robot next to him. “Hi,” Said the short black robot who extended his hand. “I’m Ironhide.” Optimus accepted his hand and shook. His eyes opened. He lay on his back in the river, head half-submerged in rushing water. Optimus sat up. His eyes winced, but he blinked the feeling away. He felt the cool rushing water against his legs and realised he was against the elements. He stood up, shaking the mud from his hands. He looked to the forest and jogged into the brush. Right now he needed to focus on finding his friends. ------ “This forest is the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.” Ironhide said. “We’re in Maine. I swear, we are actually in Maine.” He tip-toed through the dark forest. Even though it was day, the thick tree line kept much to the woods dark. “Don’t be such a big fat baby,” Road Rage followed along behind, looking around the forest. “We’re not in Maine.” “Did you just call me fat?” Ironhide looked over his shoulder. “You… think I’m fat?” Road Rage softly patted his back. “Oh no, I didn’t mean…” She shook her head. “You‘re just a utility size!” “Utility? What am I hauling?” Ironhide asked, “Cakes.” Road Rage giggled. Ironhide did a dramatic gesture. They heard a rustling to the north. The two became quiet and ducked down. They heard another bout of noise, the scurrying in fleeing creatures. Ironhide moved his arm in front of Road Rage, who moved into position to pounce on his mark. The rustling continued towards them, but neither robot could see very clearly. They spotted movement. A brief slither here or there. Whatever it was, it moved with a startling grace, fluidity and skill. So it obviously wasn’t Optimus or Jetfire. Ironhide remembered the Decepticons had also been with them prior to the event, and balled his thick hands into fists. “I thought I’d never find you two.” A smooth, accented voice said. “Botanica?” Ironhide said. “Where-?” Two aqua spheres appeared over a tree, and Botanica emerged. Her body contorted and shifted, panels decorated like bark and leaves flipped to show her regular colours beneath. Her arms unfolded from branch facsimiles, her already plant-like stalk transformed out of a shrub, and a large knot split into several tiny fragments and folded away, revealing her soft smiling face. “Happy to see me?” She asked. “More than you know.” Ironhide sighed relief. “How were you… what were you doing?” Road Rage was stunned. “You think I call myself Botanica for my health?” Botanica stretched her arms. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” “So cool…” Ironhide commented. “I guess you haven’t found Optimus?” Botanica asked. “Or Jetfire.” Road Rage replied. “What even happened to us?” “I’m not entirely sure, but I think we experienced an explosion of trans-temporal energies not unlike those found in the wake of transwarp ships. I investigated upon awaking and judged our position. Indeed I now believe we…” Botanica practically saw smoke coming out of her company’s head, and opted to spare them a migraine. “We travelled through space. And time.” “We’re on another planet?” Road Rage was aghast. “We’re in another time?” Ironhide added with equal surprise. “No and yes.” Botanica said. “We’re still on Earth. I don’t mean outer space. I matched the stars to our position and relative to my last record of their placement.” “The stars?” Ironhide looked up. “How can you see the stars through the trees?” “How else? I found the biggest tree I could and climbed as high as possible.” Botanica said matter-of-factly. Ironhide and Road Rage looked at each other and blushed for not considering said method of locating their position. Road Rage rubbed her arm. “So now what?” Road Rage asked. “Why are you asking me?” Botanica asked. “With Optimus missing, shouldn’t one of you be in charge? I mean, you were here before me.” “Yeah, we never really had a clear command structure.” Ironhide said. “Just that Optimus was boss, and that worked, you know?” “Besides, you’re smart. You must have a plan, right?” Road Rage said. “Well…” Botanica said. “I do have one. I saw a mountain ridge that overlooked the forest. We should head there, and from that elevation we can better locate our missing fellows. However…” “What?” Road Rage asked. “No doubt the Decepticons have come to the same conclusion.” Botanica said. “And will most likely be heading there.” ------ “Why aren’t we heading to the mountain?” Strika asked Scourge, who led her through the trees. “Would it not prove advantageous to seek high ground so as to observe incoming enemy, and contact our brethren? This plant matter interferes with our communications.” “You’re far too talkative for a soldier of your calibre.” Scourge cut his way through the foliage with his sword. “I apologise.” Strika said. “But I simply wish to know-” “The Autobots would surely expect such a move, and seek to intercept or ambush us.” “But they may not have even survived? We fell from such a height, who’s to say they’re not craters-” Scourge shot Strika a look that cut her off. “Poor choice of words. But regardless…” “Strika, I consider you a competent and respected warrior.” Scourge sliced again, cutting down a thick thorn bush. “Do not sully my opinion of you with such complaints. It is unbecoming for one of Megatron’s finest.” “Consider the issue dropped, then.” Strika bowed her head as she casually pushed aside a hundred-year-oak with a flick of her arm. “But if I may ask but one more question…” “If you must.” Scourge cut again. “How do you know Megatron?” Strika tilted her head. “You’re Scourge. THE Scourge. You’re a legend among Decepticons, predating even Obsidian, though he‘s never mentioned you-” “Obsidian is here?” Scourge shrugged. “Small galaxy. To answer your question, I merely seek the same goals as are esteemed leader, and have heard of his ambition to restore our caste system to Cybertron, and so I sought him out.” Strika accepted that answer for a moment, but then found herself wanting more. “So…” She said. “Now that you’re here, what do you plan to do?” “What do you mean?” Scourge planted his sword and faced her. “I am not a fool. The last one who claimed to seek the same goals as Megatron ended up critically wounding Obsidian and then disappeared. I owe my life to Megatron, and Soundwave and Starscream are just hired help, but what do you-?” “No further questions.” Scourge said. "But know this, Strika: if I sought to usurp Megatron I would have done so immediately. I pledged my blade to our leader, and that is a conviction I cannot fabricate.” “Very well.” Strika said. “But know that I will not ever tolerate a second attempt on our leader’s life.” “Hmmm.” Scourge retrieved his sword and continued cutting a path through the brush.