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Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

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Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

 

 

            The chase was like foreplay, while the fighting only intensified their longing for each other.  It was like a dance……………..a teasing, taunting dance that was leading to an intense interfacing at the end of it.   At one time, Springer had tried to tell Rodimus Prime several times that whatever it was he had with Galvatron simply wasn’t healthy in any way—not for a relationship, nor for the intimacy of interfacing.

            And, yeah…………it probably wasn’t healthy.  Maybe it wasn’t even the kind of relationship Rodimus ever imagined he’d have with anyone or the kind of relationship he ever expected to be in, but here he was.  It was just about four years since he and Galvatron had been teleported to an abandoned world, which had traces of Quintessons upon it once.   Four years and Rodimus Prime still had the devoted attentions of the Leader of the Decepticons.   It was nearly five years since Unicron’s destruction and his own ascension as Rodimus Prime, the Leader of the Autobots.

            Who knew that Hot Rod would ever even get to this point?   And despite the tough way that Galvatron had taught him to lead—in the past five years, Rodimus had become a great Autobot Leader………..all thanks to the Decepticon Leader.

            Rodimus Prime loved Galvatron, with all of his Spark.

            He loved the Decepticon Leader for showing him the way………..to find more confidence in himself.  To become a better leader.   He loved his Emperor for doing his best to stick with the ceasefire accords for the past four years…………and for giving him the gift of Novablaze.  He loved the way the grey-and-purple mech roughed him up before sublimating his program…………..he loved the fierce way they interfaced, with passion and abandon—even if it made poor First Aid cry every time he returned to Cybertron afterwards.

            Rodimus Prime loved Galvatron…………even if the Lord and Emperor of the Decepticons didn’t understand what that was and couldn’t really return the feelings.   The fact that the flame-colored mech still had his Emperor’s attention focused on him and that there was still such interest in their relationship as the years crept up to five, since they became rivals—four, since they became lovers—three, since they became parents……..Rodimus Prime loved Galvatron more than anything else in the universe.  Except for Novablaze, of course.

            The young Prime dodged another blast from the nova cannon and was about to set loose a taunt when he heard a familiar roar of triumph.

            “I have you now, my Prime!”  Galvatron thundered as their frames collided and Rodimus Prime was knocked into the cliff face.

            Rodimus grunted as he felt his spoiler dent and part of the rock face crumble at his back.   Then lips quickly pressed against his own as his body was pushed deeper into the rock.   He couldn’t help it………..he loved all of this and never wanted it to end.   The young Prime’s arms went up and around Galvatron’s neck as his Emperor’s glossa plundered his mouth mercilessly—the only way the Decepticon knew how to kiss.   He so badly wanted Galvatron to frag him into offlining right now that it was hurting him with that want.

            But Galvatron preferred the taunting and the teasing………..and the playing.   He drew out the foreplay until it nearly drove Rodimus Prime mad with passion.   After fighting, there would be bathing.   The dark-colored mech was so ridiculously fastidious before interfacing most times—or maybe he just liked having another setting for more foreplay?   When he stopped to think about it, Rodimus realized that Galvatron often preferred interfacing in a berth for most of their times together.  Sure, there was the occasional frag outdoors, against a wall, corner of the room or something like that…………but when the Leader of the Decepticons wanted to truly enjoy himself—he always made sure there was a bath and a berth before interfacing wildly.

            Today did not seem any different.

            “Let us go get cleaned up, my Prime……….and then head for my berth,” Galvatron purred, one of his servos tapping and caressing at Rodimus Prime’s groin-plating.

            “As my Emperor desires,” Rodimus murmured, still clinging to Galvatron.  His EM field rippled with desire and love.

            Galvatron had come to treat this “love” thing as something that was special and unique to his Prime (even though Rodimus kept trying to convince him others felt these feelings too).   Though he had noticed that their little spawn could use that emotion as well, rippling in Novablaze’s field, just as it would in Rodimus Prime’s.   So, he still attributed this “love” thing as a specialness about his Prime, regardless of that latter.

            The two settled into the steaming hot bath and Rodimus sat down in Galvatron’s lap, his servos all over the Decepticon Leader.

            “So, where have you handed my spawn off to now?”  Galvatron chuckled, amused by Rodimus’ sexual greediness.

            “Danny’s babysitting—he says it’s only fair, as I babysat him for so many years.  Plus he’s like sixteen and needs to earn some money, he says,” Rodimus responded, his engine upshifting with excitement as his Emperor’s claws dug into his aft possessively.   “Nova really likes Danny, too………so, it’s all good.”

            “It is all ‘good’, as you say,” Galvatron chuckled warmly, his voice a sensual purr.   “My Prime is on Chaar purely for enjoyment this time—nobody is harassing my empire at the moment.  Yes, it is all good.”

            Rodimus Prime cupped the sides of Galvatron’s crowned helm and dove in for some luxuriant wet kisses.   The two of them kissed for a very long time, with glossa sliding all around one another’s mouths, until Galvatron claimed his dominance—using fangs and glossa to conquer his young Prime, and then they pulled away from one another.

            “However, a pleasure visit usually means that you become unavailable to me for a time,” Galvatron said firmly, grabbing Rodimus’ chin roughly.

            “Yeah,” the flame-colored mech sighed, softly.  “Yeah………..sorry.   I wanted to wait until after we had fragged before telling you,” he murmured, rubbing the smooth sides of the purple helm, over where his lover’s audials were.

            “You may as well tell me now.  I may choose not to reward you, depending upon your answers,” Galvatron murmured, a bit of annoyance in the tone of his vocalizer.

            “Okay.  It’s complicated, so try not to get lost…………..” Rodimus Prime sighed, wrapping his arms around Galvatron’s neck and placing his head against one of the pillars of Galvatron’s shoulderplating.

            The young Prime explained that there was this company called Pulsar Technology and Research Laboratories, LLC—they had been working for a good number of years on this kind of “spray on” chemical armour—that could be sprayed onto anything and create a layer of protection form elements and even some minor physical blow deflection.   Many world militaries had a vested interest in this chemical armour and the company had been working non-stop of developing it, but kept running into walls with their research.  Until they finally had a breakthrough two years ago………….

            However, the method they had achieved their breakthrough with………was not exactly fully legitimate.

            A group of the researchers had pushed into the system that Cybertron belonged to and entered an Autobot mausoleum that had been in orbit around the planet closest to Cybertron—where the Autobots had chosen to bury their dead.  The Earth research vessel hadn’t made any requests to view or visit the mausoleum—and they had stolen several of the bodies in the floating crypt.

            By almost any social rules and most laws in the universe at large, that made these Earthlings both poachers and graverobbers.  But they likely did not view themselves as such, because they considered the Transformers merely robots—automatons without souls, even if they seemed to have emotions.  Most humans viewed Transformers that way, unfortunately.   Rodimus Prime consulted his lawyers that he’d retained on Earth—to deal with any Earth issues the Autobots might ever have—and he’d been waging a legal battle with Pulsar Tech for the past two years to get their comrades’ bodies back.   All this proved was how very self-centered the Earthlings could be—which made them look bad in the eyes of others in the Galactic Alliance.

            Since, after two years, all of Rodimus’ legal moves were not making progress in getting those Autobots’ bodies back and prosecuting Pulsar Tech for theft and trespassing on burial grounds…………..he was going to publically shame the researchers at this big press conference into giving the bodies back.    The young Prime figured the Earth media outlets would eat up all the juicy tidbits of the legal drama and body-snatching—but far more importantly IGNB (InterGalactic NewsBroadcasting—the media service that served most of the worlds in the alliance) would be there, reporting for the Galactic Alliance.

            Spike was behind the Autobots in this matter, personally—and he’d already had it out with his supervisors…………..especially once he’d seen the list of bodies taken and they were all Autobots he’d grown up with, including Optimus Prime’s body.   Suffice it to say, Earth’s Ambassador to the Galactic Alliance was pissed off and refused to represent Earth to the Galactic Alliance until the issue had been dealt with………….and with this firestorm, it was unlikely the alliance would accept any other ambassador until the issue was resolved, either—as the Autobots were an honored and vital member of the Galactic Alliance.

            At the end of the day—all things considered, Spike decided he would pretend he had no idea what Rodimus Prime and the Galactic Alliance’s representative to the conference were going to do—that being, shaming Pulsar Tech in front of the media.   He honestly hoped the shaming would shake things up on Earth and make the world governments a bit more open and compliant to the Galactic Alliance laws and treaties.   How could Earth want to join an intergalactic alliance of worlds, when they were still so self-centered???

            “Mmmm…………that is really quite devious of you, my Prime,” Galvatron chuckled softly, turning his face into Rodimus’ neck and biting fondly at the neck cabling—licking when he drew purple-pink Energon-infused lifeblood.

            “Well, I learned from the best, didn’t I?”  The young Prime responded, tilting his neck to expose it even more to give Galvatron better range to tease with his fangs.   “Does this mean I get my reward?”  He asked, groaning a little as fangs dug in deeper the next time.

            Galvatron licked at the oozing wound and chuckled deep in his vocalizer.  “Your reward is also my own, so……….yes, my Prime, you shall have such a reward.   Now………let us dry off and move this into the berth,” he responded, grabbing the sunbright spoiler lightly to pull Rodimus Prime away from him.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            In the past few years, Chaar had actually become something of a home for the Decepticons.  Habitation blocks were finally built and the Decepticons that had been sleeping on dirt and rock were far happier to have rooms and berths of their own.   Cybertron shared the plans for the energy conversion platform and it was situated on a base created on the second of the five planets in Chaar’s system—closer to the sun and able to benefit from its energy far more.   The base had some worker dormitories on it, as well as a minimal force (to work and to guard).  

            The Decepticons, in general, seemed far happier as well.   Now, instead of feeling like they were forced to fight and to scrabble for life under Galvatron’s whims………….they were taken care of and they fought with Galvatron in his skirmishes much more willingly.    While Galvatron didn’t really notice the change in the attitudes of the Decepticons—he had noticed they performed better in battle, so the Leader of the Decepticons latched onto this and kept accepting Rodimus Prime’s directions on making his Empire flourish.   The two of them made a good team.

            Galvatron’s own personal hab block—just an old crumbling building with stolen possessions decorating it before—had become much more of a proper living area for an Emperor.   From the remodeled throne room to the berthroom……….it had gone from gaudy and tacky to truly luxurious.    The Decepticon Leader had originally pouted over the destruction of his gaudy berth, but when Rodimus Prime showed him the new room design—the shape and colors of the new berth, saying it was far more worthy of an Emperor—Galvatron latched onto it greedily.

            Now the canopied berth was larger and wider—there were no strange carvings on the pillars anymore, but there was the item a canopied bed was always meant to have:  curtains.  All along the four sides of the berth, even behind the headboard.   When the young Prime had told Galvatron what that shade of purple was, “royal purple”, the Decepticon had purred with pleasure at how it suited him.   The moment the berth was finished—piled with pillows and plush blankets…………..Galvatron had thrown Rodimus Prime into it and they fragged all night long.  Literally.

            That was how the young Prime knew his Emperor had treasured it.   There was no other way to say it—Rodimus Prime loved Galvatron—so many things said before and his dominating personality……….and even the way he weirdly cared about his Decepticons because they “belonged” to him.   He loved how Galvatron let his precious Prime make the center of his Empire better and a true seat of power.

            Even this luxurious berth with all of its blankets and pillows in a mess beneath writhing bodies right now—everything the two of them had given to each other, willingly or even forced, sometimes…………..all of it meant so much to Rodimus Prime.

            “Oh, mmmmmmmm……..” Rodimus hummed, his back arching beneath Galavtron seductively.   His lover and lord was plugged into his systems and ravaging him furiously within the depths of his program—fire and passion flowing through the connections.   “Mmmm.  More, my lord…………..please, more!”  The young Prime begged softly, his vocalizer popping with static bursts.

            Galvatron grinned wolfishly at his young Prime’s desire.  Rodimus Prime’s program submitted so easily to him anymore—he had to do what he could to make it more fun and enjoyable.   He would certainly give more, but he would make sure that the flame-colored mech could not reach pleasure or overload……….heightening his need to a sharp and painful want.   The Decepticon Leader held his strong servos over Rodimus Prime’s wrists, up near the headboard, and had pinned the orange thighs to the berth with his knees, keeping them spread as the data-port connection cables swayed between them.

            “Beg all you wish, my Prime—but you shall not take your desired overload just yet, this is a command from your Emperor,” the purple-and-grey mech chuckled, sending a calming wave of static through the connection to disrupt the intensity building towards pleasure.

            Rodimus Prime’s whimper nearly tore at Galvatron’s Spark—he found himself a little surprised that the little cry of loss affected him so.   The Decepticon Leader brought Rodimus’ wrists together and held them pinned with one servo, while he placed his other servo to the flame-colored mech’s chest, right above where the Spark’s protective chamber should be.   He could feel the rapid spin and pulse of the blazing star within his Prime’s chest—that brilliant, blue-white light that belonged to him.

            “Open your chest, my Prime—I wish to see that which belongs to me,” Galvatron commanded sharply, rapping his knuckles lightly on the flame-emblazoned chestplate.

            “Nnnngh…………show me yours, my lord…………” Rodimus groaned, optics locking with his lover’s.  “Our stars, shining upon each other…………..” he moaned, whimpering as his body wriggled, desiring more pleasure from the mech he loved.

            “Why not?”  Galvatron chuckled.  He opened his chestplate and grinned as he heard the soft clicks of his Prime unlocking his own.  Though with hands pinned, it was left to Galvatron to open it with his free servo.  “Happy now, my Prime?”  He teased.

            “So…………..passionate…………..AH!   My lord, your light is arousing!”  Rodimus Prime groaned, wriggling his body anxiously, struggling against the Decepticon Leader.

            Galvatron found amusement in the flame-colored mech’s moans and words.   Neither Cyclonus nor Scourge had ever said that to him—that his Sparklight was arousing.   But it was hard to tell with his young Prime—whose fire and passion far outshone those of his closest followers………..that would be like comparing mere stars to a supernova.   It seemed almost everything could rouse him to desire and ecstasy, especially when given by Galvatron himself.

            The grey-and-purple mech sent waves of pleasure through their connections and felt a flooding response come back to him, even as Rodimus Prime’s body arched up in ecstasy.   But that was all peripheral to Galvatron—all of his focus and attention was on the blue-white star shining and spinning in his precious Prime’s chest.   The Decepticon Leader gently raised his servo and splayed it wide open a few inches above the spark-casing.   The light felt warm on his derma………warm and silky soft.   His Prime’s light…………everything that was his precious Prime was contained within the light and depths of that shining star.

            Rodimus Prime was a treasure—he was Galvatron’s treasure.

            “Shall I frag you senseless now, my Prime?” Galvatron heard his own voice say, though his focus was still on that brilliant blue-white light.

            “Oh, Primus………….YES!   Take me now, my Emperor!!”  Rodimus Prime moaned, desperately, body shuddering and wriggling with need.

            It seemed a shame to close up that chest and hide the light of that star—but it was too precious to risk harming it during some intense interfacing.   Galvatron closed his young Prime’s chestplate and swept his servo through the connecting cords, yanking them from the plugs swiftly.  The cords reeled back in to his hip-plating with sharp little cracks and he closed the plates before hauling Rodimus up to his knees by the grip he’d had on the flame-colored mech’s wrists.  They were looking into each other’s optics at the same height.  Rodimus Prime gave a little giggle and wriggled his body some more.

            “Open for me, my Prime,” Galvatron purred, grinning devilishly at his precious Prime.

            Just as the flame-colored mech obeyed and opened his array panels, he was slammed into the headboard and his wrists crushed into the wall above the headboard.  Galvatron was upon the young Prime, instantly……….rewarding the Autobot Leader with sharp fangs toying at his neck-cabling and a thick, hard-ridged spike ramming fast-and-hard into his soaking-hot valve.  Rodimus Prime was rewarded with his Emperor’s desire and attention………..he knew he was finally, truly and absolutely wanted.

            Even after an intense overload came for them both—making their engines roar and threaten with overheating………they sank into the softness of the padded berth and blankets, listening to their cooling fans howl with maximum output.  Their fuel pumps pulsed hard, making the lifeblood in their lines sound like the pounding of waterfalls.  As they started to come down out of their overload highs, Galvatron’s arm swept Rodimus Prime close and they just silently listened to their bodies come out of the interfacing intensity.

            “Hey, can I have more?”  Rodimus asked, softly, snuggling up against the grey-and-purple mech’s side.

            Galvatron roared with laughter.  “You are not sparked up again, are you?”  He asked, grinning wolfishly over at his Prime.

            “I think Nova was our only miracle, my lord,” Rodimus Prime responded, smiling ruefully.   “I just know I won’t be seeing you for a while and I want to get my fill of your spike before I go.”

            Galvatron roared with laughter once more and tightened the hold of his arm against his precious Prime.  “Very well.  Show me some of those techniques that you’ve learned over the years, my Prime,” he said, finally letting go of the flame-colored mech.

            “Allow me to give you a good show while I suck your spike, my Emperor,” Rodimus chuckled, grinning at his lover.  He climbed on top of Galvatron’s body and presented his aft side to the Decepticon Leader’s gaze as he began licking at his lover’s limp spike.

            The Leader of the Decepticons chuckled to himself and reached up with a servo to pat the red aft-plating gently.  “So…………am I merely to watch, or are you hoping for a few of my fingers here?”  Galvatron asked, laughing softly.

            “Oh, don’t you worry……..there will be fingers present, eventually—but you’re just going to enjoy the show,” the flame-colored mech responded.   “And once I have you good and hard again, then I’ll ride you.  You’ll be able to watch how great your spike makes me feel.”

            Galvatron chuckled, patting Rodimus’ red aft-plating again.   Even without any fingers at the moment, it was a very enjoyable pre-show.  The wet lips of Rodimus Prime’s valve still quivered a little bit with the previous overload, while dribbles of lubricant mixed with silvery streaks of transfluid seeped out of the eager valve, leaking down to drip off the glowing anterior node.

            The young Prime kept eagerly licking the spike, to get it pressurized again.   As the flame-colored mech dragged his wet glossa over the hard-ridged organ, his own valve started leaking even more and his aft wriggled gently with building pleasure.

            “Are you certain you do not want a few of my fingers here, my Prime?”  Galvatron chuckled, rubbing the tip of his forefinger around the swollen rim of the young Prime’s valve.

            “Be patient, my Emperor,” Rodimus answered, lightly chuckling.  “Aren’t you enjoying the show?”  He asked.

            “I am.  However, you are looking very needy here,” the Decepticon Leader replied, amusement toning his voice.

            “I want you to see how you affect me, my lord—can you see how wet I’m getting?  The increased pulsing of my biolights?”  Rodimus asked between indulgent licks of the stiffening spike.  “I want you so badly………….can you see it?”  He whispered, desperately.

            “Yes,” Galvatron answered, lightly patting the aft of his young Prime.  “You are very arousing, my Prime,” he said, serenely.

            “I’m so glad…….” Rodimus responded, going down hard on his lover’s spike instantly.  He rode the hard-ridged organ roughly with his mouth, dragging with his tongue in the carved ridges.   And as he began doing this so intensely, the young Prime slipped a servo between his legs and began thrusting two fingers into his own valve.

            Galvatron watched the lubricant-soaked fingers, streaked with leftovers of silvery transfluid, penetrate and retreat from the greedy valve.   The feel of his young Prime’s mouth on his spike was quite glorious, as well.   The Decepticon Leader purred with pleasure and contentment.   It really was a good show.

            But then the show ended rather abruptly……..with a whimper from Rodimus Prime and a low growl from Galvatron.   “I probably could’ve overloaded—glad I stopped,” Rodimus murmured, turning around atop his lover and nuzzling his cheek for a moment before sitting up and straddling the mech he loved.

            “I would not have minded,” Galvatron grunted, a bit disappointed.

            “I know, but I really want to have your spike in my valve,” the young Prime murmured.  “Can I have it?”  He asked, softly.

            “Have I not taught you to take what you want?”  Galvatron growled, as he reached up to grab his young Prime’s chin.

            “Yeah, but…………you are my Emperor and I am here to serve at your whims,” Rodimus Prime responded with a grin.

            His precious Prime looked so happy and so wanting that Galvatron was not going to say “no” anyways.   Rodimus Prime had become the most treasured of all his possessions.   His fingers loosened their grip on the flame-colored mech’s chin and brushed gently……..he smiled and nodded his acquiescence up at the Autobot Leader.

            Rodimus Prime raised his hips and came down on top of his lover’s rigid spike.  He gazed down into Galvatron’s red optics as he began to ride his lover with a simple rhythm.  Soon enough his speed and tempo began to increase and he moaned with pleasure, his field full of love pressing down against the Decepticon Leader’s field.

            And when the young Prime overloaded, he wished it could’ve lasted forever…………

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Eventually it came to be the day of Pulsar Tech’s big press conference.  There were leaders from various countries on Earth, as well as some military heads there, too.   As Earth had just joined the Galactic Alliance in recent years, a formal ambassador representing the Galactic Alliance was there.  Plus Rodimus Prime was there, as Leader of the Autobots and the one who sponsored Earth’s membership to the Galactic Alliance.   Then, as a show of good faith towards the Galactic Alliance—their chosen media source was allowed to attend the press conference as well.  So, IGNB sent their top journalist to cover things.

            There weren’t many non-Earthlings at the press conference, so even though the stadium that Pulsar Tech had rented out was huge—Rodimus Prime, Representative Ganix and the IGNB staff definitely stood out as “foreigners” amongst all the humans, even with their different skin colors.

            There was a lot of introductory jargon—history of the company, this particular line of research and the rules for the eventual Q&A with the press and gathered world (and military) leaders.   The head of the company, a Doctor Jonathon Morgan, spoke for close to an hour about the specific research and development of the chemical armour—but then he eventually opened it up for the long-awaited Q&A.

            Representative Ganix waited very patiently until his turn came up, by the number on his datapad.   When it came time for his turn to speak, he rose from his seat and the majority of the press cameras and other filming objects swiveled in his direction.  He was from a planet that translated into the common English language as “Tournor”, his skin was a light blue shade but he was designed mostly like a human—except for long drooping animal-like ears and a third eye, ruby red, right in the middle of his forehead.

            “Ah, yes…………thank you very much,” Ganix said in perfect English with very little trace of any foreign accent.   He was the formal Ambassador for the Galactic Alliance because he was extremely good at learning any language within a single day.  “I would like to request your cadaver research information.  Which hospitals did you contract with to acquire the test bodies you used for the research and the experiments?”  He asked, a light tone in his voice—even and smooth.

            Doctor Morgan frowned and slammed a hand over his podium’s microphone, glancing off stage and began (what looked like) a yelling for security.

            “Please do not bother, it is known of the legal case that has been going on for the past two years now.  The true question at the moment is—when do you plan to return those bodies to the Autobots?   And in what condition?” Ganix responded, titling his head curiously as he looked down at the stage and the head of Pulsar Tech.   “I would like to make a statement that I hope shall motivate you some more—how would you feel if the Autobots went into Arlington National Cemetery and removed bodies to dissect and experiment on?  Because what you did to the Autobot’s space mausoleum within Cybertron’s home system is exactly the same thing.  You stole the bodies of their treasured comrades and brethren—you took the body of their honored leader, Optimus Prime.”

            The Earth media outlets in attendance went insane as soon as Optimus Prime’s name was mentioned—he was beloved by Autobots and most Earth humans alike!   IGNB covered this with an eager eye for information.  It was clear that Pulsar Tech was just about to lose their legal case—because once this was spread across all media outlets on Earth as well as throughout the worlds of the Galactic Alliance, the pressure on them to “do the right thing” would mount.

            Two days after the press conference, Pulsar Tech gave the bodies back to the Autobots at Metroplex—many of the bodies incomplete, as limbs and internals had been removed………..experimented on………….and destroyed.  Even Optimus Prime’s body had been carved up pretty badly.   Rodimus Prime received a call from the President of the United States of America—which was, at the same time, both apologetic and strict admonishment.  The President had asked that Rodimus use legal channels next time, instead of media and social media—at which moment Rodimus made sure to e-mail AND fax over copies of every single legal document and court transcript from the last two years of the legal battle with Pulsar Tech.   Still miffed, the President simply stated he “had to” make the admonishment on the part of the American people—but largely, Rodimus Prime knew it was because the government had a huge investment in the chemical armour.  And now to even use the chemical armour would be supporting what Pulsar Tech did—and thus make militaries and governments look like bad guys in the situation.

            Pulsar Tech never apologized, though.  And because of that, Rodimus Prime banned any Earth spaceships from entering Cybertron’s star system without contacting Cybertron first for permission……..he was well within his rights, as a member of the Galactic Alliance, to request this.   As well as he could choose to have all Autobots withdraw entirely from Earth—especially since the Decepticons no longer went near the planet, due to the accords.   But all of Earth realized if the Autobots left the planet—not only would it make Earth look bad in the views of the Galactic Alliance (since the Autobots were their sponsors!), any and all trade for supplies and technology they had with Cybertron would be severely curtailed.   But Rodimus Prime decided not to be as petty as the Americans in the primary government offices or Pulsar Tech were being.

            Other countries, however, were much more aware of how this might affect Earth’s standing with the Galactic Alliance and had extended both apologies and offers to Rodimus Prime to move their embassy (Metroplex) to one of their countries—if Pulsar Tech kept being non-compliant to the requests for the bodies back.   Shortly after receiving the bodies back, Rodimus Prime gave a public “thank you” address, by way of a press conference held at the entrance of Metroplex—as well as have an “honoring the dead” speech.   Rodimus was well-aware at how the media and social media outlets played things—so he had the bodies out on display when the media came, so they could see the condition in which they were returned and which of the bodies had been taken from the mausoleum.

            When all the Autobots saw how badly the bodies had been carved up and damaged, it grieved them deeply to see honored brethren treated in this way.   Rodimus knew it would take forever for the Autobot medical staff to get them properly “cleaned up” for interment again—so, he asked Galvatron if he could borrow the Constructicons for a little while.   Galvatron had asked if he could mete out punishment upon the fleshlings, but Rodimus thanked his lover and said that they’d just move past this and go on.

            So, after about a week of press conferences and roaming around doing things, Rodimus Prime had just seen to the interment of the other Autobots bodies again.  It had been a decision of all the command staff that Optimus Prime be entombed in a special place on Cybertron, which would have armed guards assigned to it every day, to ever prevent his body from being taken again.  For now, though, Optimus’ body was in a safely sealed room inside of Metroplex that only Rodimus and Ultra Magnus had the codes for.  Now, it seemed………at least for a little while…………the young Prime could finally relax.

            “Cari!”  A familiar, young voice squealed as Rodimus came into the entertainment lounge inside of Metroplex.   “Cari!  Cari!  Cari!”  Novablaze cried excitedly, jumping up and down in front of Rodimus Prime with his arms raised for a hug.

            The young Prime knelt and scooped his two-year-old youngling up into his arms.  “Were you a good boy all day today, Nova?”  Rodimus asked, hefting his son’s light weight into one arm and swept a finger beneath the mechling’s chin to make their optics meet.

            “Yes, cari!”  Novablaze purred, snuggling against his carrier’s shoulder.  “Mags!  Mags!”  The mechling squealed as he saw Ultra Magnus over the flame-colored mech’s shoulder.

            “Hello, Nova,” Ultra Magnus said, fondly, with a smile.  He reached over Rodimus’ shoulder and spoiler to let Novablaze grab onto his fingers for a few moments.

            The Autobot’s Second-in-Command had been floored and wholly disbelieving when Rodimus Prime had come back from the Leadership Conference with the news that he was “sparked up”, as the Quintesson biologist had called it.  However, as Magnus watched the young Prime’s body grow and adjust to carrying a new life within it, the red-white-blue mech knew that it was not an impossible thing anymore.  Then again, Rodimus had always sworn to do the impossible!

            Then there was the day that Rodimus Prime returned home to Cybertron, after being on Chaar for a few weeks at the end of his carrying.   The flame-colored mech had been carrying the tiny, little newmech in his arms and showed Novablaze to Ultra Magnus.   Suddenly the impossible miracle was actually, physically real.   It took a little bit for Magnus to fully wrap his head around this, but he chose to devote himself to protecting his Leader and this newmech belonging to Rodimus Prime.  Then, again, Ultra Magnus knew he’d hear hell from Galvatron if he didn’t take care of them both.

            “Cari staying?”  Novablaze asked, looking up into Rodimus Prime’s faceplate.

            Over the past two years, the sparkling’s form and frame had begun to finalize.  The colors had gone to a deep violet, like Galvatron’s—plus there was sunbright yellow striping and décor, as well as light grey derma.  Novablaze also had wings on his back, so they were all anticipating an aerial alt mode at some point.  However, Novablaze showed no real interest in an alt mode so far—which was really very like Galvatron (who rarely used his alt mode as a heavy-cannon), plus First Aid said it looked like the sparkling’s T-Cog hadn’t fully formed yet.

            To First Aid, Novablaze was a wealth of new information on Transformer bio-data.  As he watched the sparkling’s internals and externals grow, it made him wonder how he could adapt this knowledge to be able to help fix and/or replace internals and externals on the general Vector Sigma-forged Transformer frames and forms.

            “I plan to be here for a while, I need a bit of rest after the past week or so,” Rodimus answered, rubbing faces with his youngling in a very fond manner.   “Has he been okay for you to handle, Danny?”  The young Prime asked, as he glanced over at his human best friend, who was sitting on the massive lounging couch by the television screen.

            “Oh yeah, big bro—he’s been adorable and well-behaved,” Daniel Witwicky chuckled as he hopped off the couch and landed on the floor easily, even from that height.  Now at sixteen, Daniel had really filled out with broad shoulders, a compact build and a deep voice.  “We watched a marathon of ‘Fuzzy Fiesta’ today—kept him totally happy.”

            Rodimus Prime laughed warmly.  It was Novablaze’s addiction—a little Earth children’s program.   It had these well-known animals (dogs, cats, deer, pandas, etc.) in rounded ball shapes, with only ears and tails (and color scheme) denoting what kind of animal they actually were.  They were way cuter than they needed to be with super-huge eyes, therefore it was clearly a Japanese anime.  However, it had been running for nearly twenty years now and had been translated into every language on Earth.  Every time Daniel babysat Novablaze, they’d watch a marathon of it in a different language—just for the heck of it.  It wasn’t a bad program…………ridiculously cute as it was………….it taught children things like the alphabet, how to count, social skills and the like—through little skits and songs.

            It was the songs that drove parents bonkers.

            “So, what language did you watch it in, today?”  Rodimus asked, still cuddling and nuzzling his youngling.

            “Well, we finally watched it in the original Japanese language—and here I thought the Mexican adaption was super-trippy!”  Daniel laughed, still texting on his smartphone as he walked over to where Rodimus Prime and Ultra Magnus were standing.  “Count to five, Nova!”  The teenager chuckled.

            “Ichi, ni………..san, yon………umm……..gou!”  Novablaze said, slowly, holding up a servo and using his fingers to help him count.

            “And how are you feeling  today?”  Daniel asked, eyes still locked on his phone screen, texting rapidly.

            “Genki!  Genki!   Boku wa genki!”  The purple-and-yellow mechling laughed, squirming happily in Rodimus’ arms.

            “I swear to Primus……….if he starts singing—I’m banningFuzzy Fiesta’ from being shown on any screen inside Metroplex ever again,” Ultra Magnus murmured, facepalming himself.

            Rodimus and Daniel laughed, Novablaze laughed along with them, even though he had no idea why!

            “That the girlfriend?”  Rodimus Prime asked, pointing with a servo down at Daniel’s smartphone.

            “Yeah, she got offered extra hours at her job through the weekend, so it looks like our date’s off,” the teenager sighed softly.

            “Well, if Amber’s not going to keep you occupied—you’re welcome to stay at Metroplex here for the weekend,” Rodimus said.  “Free breakfast and wi-fi!”  He laughed as he added that last part.

            “Sounds like a plan, big bro!   I’m gonna go out for a walk and stretch my legs,” Daniel chuckled, jogging out of the room.

            “And I’m going to go on my usual rounds, Rodimus—just call me if you need me,” Ultra Magnus said, giving a nod of his head before he left the room.

            “So, my dear Novablaze………..what do you want to do with your carrier, today?”  Rodimus Prime said, cheerfully, sweeping over and popping down in the lounger with his son in his arms.

            “Tell me about sire!”  The youngling cried.

            “Oh, gosh………….there is just so much about Galvatron that’s inappropriate for someone as little as you!”  Rodimus laughed, hugging and nuzzling Novablaze.   “Your sire is a fierce mech—a powerful war machine, designed for conquering.  He has been building his empire for many years—though I’ve actually helped a little bit with that.  He………..he doesn’t have the full range of emotions that we all have—like the softer ones, love and compassion.  It was just the way the Chaos Bringer re-made him.”

            Novablaze’s optics widened beneath the dark blue glass coverings, glowing softly with wonder.

            “He doesn’t form emotional attachments, but once he’s claimed you as his—you forever belong to him,” Rodimus murmured, a tone of love and happiness in his vocalizer.  “You are his………..I am his.  And though we live apart—we will always belong to Galvatron, you and I.”

            Novablaze had only seen his sire a handful of times in the past year or so, Galvatron was always so large.   So unbelievably real, that he seemed too distant for a small mech like him.  Even when Rodimus Prime placed the youngling in the Decepticon Leader’s arms, Novablaze would be very quiet and respectful to the powerful mech holding him.   He would never wiggle or tantrum—nor would he even attempt to hug his sire, as he always clung to Rodimus Prime.

            “Even though your sire has many claims—I love him and he is my only claim,” Rodimus said, very fondly.  “You should always be respectful around your sire—he does have anger issues and it can be all too easy to bring his fury out.  But we all have our faults, no one is perfect.”

            “Sire………..” the youngling murmured in awe.   Then he hugged Rodimus’ shoulder and nuzzled lovingly.  “Carrier……..love,” he added, his small field pushing against the young Prime’s.

            “I love you, too, my little Novablaze,” Rodimus Prime whispered, tenderly, hugging his son.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “Rodimus, if I could have a few moments of your time?”  A voice said, shaking the young Prime’s shoulder.

            The flame-colored mech’s optics onlined and he saw Perceptor leaning over the back of the lounger.  That’s right—he and Novablaze were still in the entertainment lounge of Metroplex.   He briefly checked his HUD for time and new messages—they’d napped longer than he’d thought!   Then he put a steadying hand on the sleeping mechling on his chest, before he sat up and swung his legs over onto the floor.

            “Sure, just give me an astrosec, Perceptor,” Rodimus murmured, carefully getting to his pedes and then gently laying his youngling back on the lounger.   Then the young Prime and his chief scientist walked to a far corner of the room to talk without disturbing Novablaze.   “What’s wrong?”   He asked, softly.

            “Well, do you recall the sample that all press attendees were given of Pulsar Tech’s chemical armour?”  Perceptor asked, tilting his head at Rodimus Prime.

            “I remember not being given one because of our ‘feud’ with Pulsar Tech—so, who gave us one?”  The young Prime inquired.

            “The IGNB reporter gave it to me—she had asked if I would analyze it for them and send IGNB the results of my findings,” Perceptor answered.   “Well, I am uncertain of the tests they ran—on what and under what conditions, but there is a serious flaw in the chemical structure.  I did send a warning to IGNB and the Galactic Alliance members who were given samples, before they could trigger it—that way they could simply dispose of the samples right away,” the Autobot scientist continued.

            “Trigger it?  How?   And what would it do?”  Rodimus asked, puzzled.

            “It can mutate into a virus, which enhances and increases violent negative emotions—such as hate and anger,” Perceptor responded, handing a datapad to his commander with all of his results.  “And unfortunately it is triggered by oxygen.”

            “Oh, great—the one single gas that’s everywhere on this planet!”  Rodimus Prime groaned.  “Have you sent out warnings to the various Earth government leaders?”

            “I’ve tried, but many of my e-mails have bounced back,” Perceptor sighed.  “This virus is highly contagious, it can spread by mere contact with an infected individual!”  He added, deep tones of worry in his vocalizer.

            “Big bro!   News!”  Daniel gasped, running into the lounge and holding up his smartphone over his head as he bent over panting with exertion.

 

|……while reports have gone unconfirmed.  Suspicions have fallen upon the chemical armour that Pulsar Tech has developed.  Media, governments and military have been warned not to expose the chemical armour to oxygen…….| the tiny reporter on the tiny screen said in a tiny voice.

 

            Rodimus Prime knelt down to try and get a better view of the screen.

 

|…….and the hue of the skin on infected individuals have been denoted as a crimson shade, as if their own blood is on fire………….| the report continued.

 

            Rodimus gritted his denta as he recognized a few areas shown on the newsclips.  As well as individuals in them.

 

|……….seems to be spreading via touch, even Autobots have become infected, which have increased the casualties………..| the reporter’s tone of voice became fearful as screams were heard on the clips.

 

            The Leader of the Autobots got to his pedes rapidly and walked over to the communications terminal in the lounge.  “All Autobots within Metroplex—we are starting immediate lockdown procedures.  You are all to end whatever tasks you are doing and report immediately to the shuttle area—Omega Supreme and Sky Lynx will be taking everyone back to Cybertron immediately until this issue is dealt with.  For more information at the moment, please view local and national news as you evacuate to the shuttle area!”  Rodimus Prime ordered, firmly.  “Skyfire, please report to me in the lounge—I have a special assignment for you!  Metroplex, you have my apologies, but I must shut down all of your systems so that you won’t get infected.  It would be cataclysmic.”

            “Understood, Prime,” Metroplex’s voice responded over the intercom system.

            “Ultra Magnus went out………….is he…………?”  Daniel began, worry in his deep voice.

            “Yeah.  I think I saw him on the news broadcast,” the flame-colored mech answered.   “Skyfire—thanks for coming so quickly!”  The young Prime said as the tall Autobot came into the lounge.

            “What do you want me to do, Rodimus?”  Skyfire asked in his soft voice.

            “Two favors………..first—while everyone else evacuates to Cybertron, I want you to go to Chaar with Nova and Daniel.  And Perceptor, as well.  But Perceptor won’t be able to make the situation simple enough for Galvatron—so, you also need to translate the science-speak for him,” Rodimus explained.  “Danny, sorry.  I need you to go to Chaar for Nova’s sake—Nova’s never been alone with the Decepticons, ever.”

            “Got it, big bro,” Daniel said, finally pocketing his smartphone and grabbing his backpack from the post near the door.   “But what about you?   I mean, wouldn’t it go smoother if you explained it to Galvatron?”

            “I have to stay here……….to look for an answer,” Rodimus Prime said, firmly.  “I also have to make sure no one leaves the Earth to spread this ‘hate plague’.  The Matrix can find an answer—I just need to buy myself the time for it to do that.”

            “I protest!  This is far too dangerous!”  Perceptor said, shaking his head at his leader.

            Rodimus Prime simply went over to the lounger to pick up his sleepy-but-awake youngling.  “You’re going to go visit your sire for a little while, be good my Novablaze,” the flame-colored mech murmured, lovingly, hugging and nuzzling the mechling before putting the bundle into Perceptor’s arms.

            “Cari?”  Novablaze murmured, sleepily.  Then seemed to come instantly awake as he sensed everyone’s fields in a tangled mess of worry.  “Cari………cari!!”  The mechling sobbed, reaching for his carrier.

            “Shhhhh, it’s fine……..” Rodimus said, softly, rubbing the youngling’s head fondly.  “Your sire will keep you safe,” he added with a big grin.  “Danny……..don’t let Galvatron come to Earth—tell him to listen to the message I’m sending with you.”

            “Yeah, okay, but…………I’m with Perceptor on this one, big bro!”  Daniel groaned.

            “I’ll see you in the shuttle area in ten minutes, I’m going to shut down Metroplex and record my message,” Rodimus said, glaring at everyone with a look that said “don’t defy your Prime!”.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “Cyclonus!   We are going to Earth immediately!  I refuse to let my Prime act so foolishly!!”  Galvatron snarled, rising from his throne after the two Autobot scientists explained everything to him.

            “God, you’re so stupid, Galvatron!   If you respect your Prime at all—you’ll listen to this message he recorded for you and wait for him!”  Daniel groaned, stepping resolutely towards the mech who could kill him without even a thought.

            “Watch your tone, fleshling!”  Galvatron growled down at the teenage boy.   However, he did carefully take the datapad that he was offered.

 

|Sorry for the distraction in the message, my Emperor—but I’m currently busy shutting down Metroplex.  Look, Perceptor’s going to use some pretty big and complicated words and Skyfire’s gonna translate that for you, but the most important thing is, no matter what—DO NOT COME TO EARTH!!   If you became infected by this ‘hate plague’, my lord………it would mean the end of your empire.  And it would mean the end of you, as you are……..the mech that I love.|

 

            Galvatron gave a snort of annoyance.

 

|So………..I’m asking you to keep Novablaze, my little brother and my Autobots safe, for now.  I’ll find the answer with the Matrix, I just need the time to do it.  With Metroplex offline, there’s absolutely no security or safety here—so, it will be a hunt and a chase.  And you know how I love a good chase, my lord.  Just be patient……..someone will contact you once I’ve fixed this.|

 

            The Emperor of the Decepticons roared with fury, almost throwing the datapad into the wall behind him, except………….there were those words “someone will contact you”, which stuck in his mind.  The grey-and-purple mech realized that Rodimus Prime didn’t expect to survive this, even if he found the answer to cure this plague.   That meant that this datapad was very likely the last time he would ever see his precious Prime.  So, instead of destroying it—he put it into a subspace compartment.

            “Cari!   Waaaahhhhhhhhh!!!”  Novablaze wailed in anguish.  Perhaps he didn’t understand Rodimus Prime’s words as Galvatron did, but he instinctively knew the tone of an endgame gambit.  “Carrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiii!!!”  He sobbed.

            Galvatron walked over to where his little spawn sat on the floor, wailing miserably.  He reached down and gently picked Novablaze up by the nape of the neck, settling him in the crook of his other arm.   “Silence, spawn.  We will give your foolish carrier the time he requests—and then I shall punish him for making you wail so, Novablaze,” the Decepticon Leader said, firmly.

            “Sire……..?”  The youngling whispered, static filling his voice after the mournful wailing.

            “Nova……..wanna watch some ‘Fuzzy Fiesta’?  I have some episodes downloaded onto my tablet for you,” Daniel said, grinning up at the youngling in Galvatron’s arms.

            “Fuzzy……..fiesta?”  The grey-and-purple mech muttered, puzzled, looking down at the human teenager.  All of the sudden, his optics caught Skyfire and Perceptor making massive exaggerated hand motions in all the negative kinds of gestures.

            “Wanna!”  Novablaze squealed with delight.  “Down, sire……..?  Please?  Down?”  He asked, looking up into the Decepticon Leader’s red optics.  Galvatron slowly lowered the mechling to the floor and the moment his pedes touched the ground, he scrambled over to where Daniel had sat on the floor and plopped down next to him.  Novablaze’s optics focused intently on the tablet and he began singing along with the theme song as Daniel started to play the episodes.

            Galvatron groaned and facepalmed himself.   A gesture he had only begun to use after watching Rodimus Prime use it so many times in front of him.   At least whatever this silly little teleplay was helped to keep his young spawn from crying, so that he could appreciate.   Then the Decepticon Leader walked over to Skyfire and Perceptor.

            “What are my Prime’s chances?”  He asked of the two Autobot scientists.

            “The Matrix may protect him to some degree, but……….” Perceptor trailed off, shaking his head.

            “He always has been good at hit-and-run tactics, so maybe…………..?”  Skyfire murmured.

            Galvatron cursed his Prime for making him wait like this!!!

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Rodimus Prime crawled through the vents and eventually dropped into the sealed room where Optimus Prime’s body was.   He had been chased through Metroplex for hours—but it was clear that being consumed by this ‘hate plague’ cut their intelligence and they could only focus on attacking in rage.  So, it really wasn’t hard to hide from the brutally possessed.   And while he’d been chased through the Autobot City, and in hiding, the Matrix had gifted him with the answer.

            But…………….

            “Hey, Optimus……..well, the Matrix says that opening it up will purify the plague and the spores in the chemical armour that caused it.  Though………the Matrix will be emptied because of that.   So……..” the young Autobot Leader whispered.

            He leaned over the slab, looking over Optimus Prime’s still body with a bit of sadness.   The young Prime knew what was going to happen and the losses and gains tore at his Spark.

            “Anyways………..the Matrix will reignite your Spark, because the Autobots will need you afterwards.  Just…….listen to Magnus, okay?  He’ll explain about the accords and stuff—all you gotta do is just leave Galvatron alone,” he continued turning around and leaning against the slab, facing away from the former Autobot Leader.  “Primus……….I’m gonna miss that slagging Decepticon.  And everything else, too.  And Nova.”

            The young Prime sunk, his back scraping softly against the edge of the slab, until he was nearly sitting on the floor.   The ache in his Spark grew as he thought more and more about what he was going to do in a few moments.

            “Hot Rod was never wanted, so he’ll just vanish—that’s all.   So, take care of the Autobots, Optimus—okay?   Galvatron will do as he wishes with our Novablaze………..they’ll all be better off without me…….” Rodimus Prime whispered, getting back up to his pedes.

            Just then, heavy pounding echoed against the doors and walls.  The sound of the final call—the time to end it all.

            Rodimus Prime opened his chestplate and pulled out the Matrix of Leadership, before closing his chestplate back up.   First he placed the fingers of his left servo into the bracer slots into the left handle, then he repeated the gesture with his right servo—it was, after all, the only proper way to open the ancient and treasured object.

            “Oh light of knowledge and power of eternity—purify this plague and save this world, and all the ones I love……..” the young Prime whispered, tightening his grip in the bracer slots.  “Now light our darkest hour!”  The Autobot Leader cried, pulling apart the casing and letting the powerful crystal orb inside release all of its stored power.

            The Matrix of Leadership’s purifying power rippled all across the Earth, eliminating all traces of the plague and the spores that caused it—disrupting technology with the information on the design of the chemical armour and erasing all knowledge of it, even within the brains of the humans who created it.   Pulsar Tech would have to start all over, from scratch, if they still wished to pursue this idea.

            And, lastly, the Matrix reignited Optimus Prime’s dead Spark.

            But with the power of the Matrix all gone………..so was Rodimus Prime…………

            When Hot Rod saw Optimus Prime sit up and look at him, he dropped the empty Matrix of Leadership and ran from the room.  The young, flame-colored mech ran to hide in an out-of-the-way room deep within Metroplex.  He and Daniel had always used it as their “secret hideout”, back when the human boy had been much younger.  It was just an old storage closet that no one ever used.

            “Metroplex………..don’t tell anyone where I am………..please don’t!”  Hot Rod sobbed softly, hoping that that sentient city heard him, as he felt Metroplex being reactivated.  Now he just needed to find a way out……..of being alive.   Hot Rod didn’t want to face anyone…………he didn’t want to bear being unwanted ever again.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            As Rodimus Prime’s message had predicted, someone else had called Chaar to explain that it was “all clear” on Earth.  So, then, Galvatron decided to finally do as he promised—he was going to Earth to punish his Prime for this recklessness.  And…….even though his Prime had not called him—Galvatron knew he was alive, because the Spark-bond was not broken.  Not yet.

            “Where is he?  Where is my Prime?!”  Galvatron snarled, stomping over to Ultra Magnus.

            The Autobot’s Second-in-Command was standing with Optimus Prime, trying to explain what had happened leading up to this.

            “We’re looking for Hot Rod, but……….” Optimus began, looking at Galvatron with an apprising gaze.

            Then Galvatron saw what was in Optimus Prime’s servos—the empty Matrix of Leadership.

            “What have you done to him?!  How dare you touch my Prime!!”  Galvatron roared, raising his nova cannon and aimed it at the former (and once again) Autobot Leader.

            “Lord Galvatron!”  Ultra Magnus said, very loudly, stepping between the two mechs.  He hoped that using the formal title, as Rodimus had taught him to do when Galvatron started raging, would help to de-escalate the situation.  “We’re looking for him, but we’re starting to wonder if he left Metroplex.  We can’t find him anywhere and the city hasn’t answered us on Hot Rod’s last whereabouts………..” the red-blue-white mech said, trying to keep his voice calm and even.

            “Prrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiime!!!  Get out here this instant or I’ll raze this city and all within it!”  The Decepticon Leader howled at his loudest tone.

            “Carrrrrrrrrrrriiiii!!  Cari, cari, cari!!!” Novablaze began wailing, also at his loudest tone, as well.  “Waaahhhhhh…………..carrrrrriiiiiiii!!!

            Optimus Prime’s optics were drawn to the wailing youngling as Autobots and Decepticons looked at each other uneasily.  Despair and sadness invaded their postures and gazes.  This would likely be it—the end of the ceasefire accords.  Everything that tied Galvatron to the accords was related to Rodimus Prime—the one and only reason Galvatron even signed them in the first place.  Everyone there knew that. 

            Except for Optimus Prime, who was still unaware of the accords—as of yet.

            And maybe, Novablaze…………who was too young to understand the strange agreement between his sire and carrier and the “peace” between the Autobots and the Decepticons.

            “Galvatron,” Daniel said, rapping a fist hard against the Decepticon Leader’s knee to get his attention.   “Listen………..you know he’s not dead and that he’s somewhere around here, because of the Spark-bond, right?”  The teenage boy asked, looking up at Galvatron.  The grey-and-purple mech nodded.  “Then………I think I know where he might be.  When I was little, Hot Rod and I made it our secret hideout in Metroplex.”

            “Take me there,” Galvatron snapped, softly, scooping up his spawn and the human teenager.  He followed Daniel’s directions into the depths of Metroplex, until they came upon the far-out-of-the-way storage closet.

            “Unless Metroplex has changed the code, it should be eight-six, one-zero, eight-seven,” Daniel said, softly.

            Galvatron set Daniel and Novablaze down onto the floor and input the code, 861087 into the keypad for the storage closet.   The door took a few seconds longer than it should have before it finally slid open.   Huddled far back into the corner of the room was Hot Rod, curled in upon himself and trembling in sadness and fear.

            “Up, Prime!   Up, so that I may yell at you properly!”  Galvatron growled, staring down at Hot Rod.

            The face that turned up towards the Decepticon Leader was streaked with dried optical fluids—and it looked so young, now.  The faceplate ridges and length were different, but those luminescent blue optics that met Galvatron’s were exactly the same as they’d ever been.

            “Cari!”  Novablaze cried, moving to run over to Hot Rod, but was blocked by his sire’s massive boot and a serious warning glare.

            Daniel, who was only a few inches taller than the youngling, gently pulled Novablaze back and held him in a gentle hug.  The teenager lightly crooned soothing words and patted the mechling’s shoulders and head fondly.

            “I said to get to your pedes, my Prime……..right now!”  Galvatron snapped, raising his arm to aim his nova cannon at Hot Rod.

            “Frag off, you stupid slagging Decepticon!   You just don’t get it!!”  Hot Rod cried back, his vocalizer full of static.  He huddled deeper into himself and the corner as he could.

            Galvatron’s ire rose to an absolutely infuriated level.   His Prime’s fire had finally been fully extinguished—he would rather die all alone, than to live with the ones who treasured him.   It reminded the Decepticon Leader of a day in a desert, over four years ago—and just like that day, he reached down and grabbed Hot Rod with a surprisingly gentle grip on the back of his neck.  Galvatron set the young, flame-colored mech on his pedes in front of him.

            “Explain why you refuse to even look at me, my Prime………am I not your lord and master?  Have I not conquered all of you, frame and Spark?”  Galvatron said, his voice low and dangerous as he looked down into Hot Rod’s face after he roughly grabbed the younger mech’s chin and forced their gazes to meet.

            “Primus………..doesn’t this even give you a clue?!”  Hot Rod snapped, raising a servo to motion at the new distance between his and Galvatron’s height.   “I’m no longer your PrimeI’m no longer anyone’s Prime!!”  The flame-colored mech wailed sharply.

            “You are the only Prime that I shall ever acknowledge,” Galvatron snapped back, still holding onto Hot Rod’s chin firmly.

            “I can’t………….I can’t even hold up my end of the accords anymore.  If we fight, as we always have—you’ll kill me, Galvatron,” Hot Rod sobbed.  He wanted to believe………….so very badly………….that he could still belong to Galvatron, but he knew that it was always the fight the Decepticon wanted the most—his “perfect rival”.  It was one of the main bonuses that Rodimus Prime had tempted Galvatron with, to get him to sign the ceasefire accords.

            Galvatron gave a little snort of annoyance.

            “Well, then………..can you still offer me the other bonus that I was to receive from the accords,” the Emperor of the Decepticons asked, a devious smile on his faceplate.

            Hot Rod stared up at Galavtron, absolutely floored by the meaning of that statement.

            “Or do I no longer excite you, my Prime?”  Galvatron said, a deep frown on his faceplate.

            “Dammit…….you……..just when I was ready to………..” Hot Rod stammered, yanking his chin away from Galvatron’s servo and stared at the floor with a furious blush on his tear-streaked faceplate.  “Galvatron…….do you love me?”  The young, flame-colored mech asked, the tone soft in his vocalizer.

            “I still do not understand what you mean, fool………..are you asking if I still want you?”  The Decepticon Leader sighed, folding his arms across his chest, careful to put the one with the nova cannon on top.  “I claimed you and you belong to me—I never give up my treasures.”

            Hot Rod sighed, shoulders and spoiler drooping sadly.  It didn’t answer his question at all.  With nothing more to offer Galvatron than to play around in the berth—did he have any real value to the Emperor of the Decepticons whatsoever?

            “What’s my name, Galvatron……..?  Do you even know that much about me right now?”  Hot Rod sighed, looking up into Galvatron’s faceplate.

            “You are my Prime,” Galvatron said, simply.

            Hot Rod’s shoulders and spoiler seemed to droop lower than before.  A thing.  He was only a thing to the mech he loved so much.  Even if Hot Rod could reconcile himself to becoming Galvatron’s frag toy………..and even if he enjoyed it……….was it worth an ambiguous almost non-existence?  Was that any better than when he was the Hot Rod before Rodimus Prime’s existence?

            Galvatron’s left servo reached over and grabbed the young, flame-colored mech’s chin again, jerking it upwards so that their optics met.  “Are you no longer satisfied to be my Prime, Hot Rod?”  The Emperor of the Decepticons said, his voice hard and yet somehow also strangely soft.

            Hot Rod stared up at Galvatron, incredulously.  To hear his name from his lover’s vocalizer brought him to tears again.  He slid Galvatron’s servo from his chin to the side of his face, nuzzling it as he sobbed and held onto his lover’s arm, keeping the servo on his face.

            “Slag!  Now what did I do?!  Was I not nice enough?  I do not understand why you keep crying!!”  Galvatron groaned, bewilderment rippling in his powerful field.

            “He’s happy that you knew his name, Galvatron………he probably thought he was only an object to you,” Daniel said, chuckling softly.

            “Have I not always treated you as worthy of me?  Have I not always treated you better than the Autobots have?  It takes me calling you by your designation to make you happy?  Were you not happy to be my Prime?  Why do you have to be so……..complicated……..you fool?!”  Galvatron sighed loudly.

            “I love you, Galvatron…………my beloved Emperor……….my lord and master,” Hot Rod whispered, still holding on to Galvatron’s servo and nuzzling it even more.   “I love you so much………”

            Love rippled through Hot Rod’s EM field and pushed into Galvatron’s desperately.

            Galvatron smiled as the so-familiar field pushed against his.  That unknowable “love” that he always knew belonged to his Prime was still the same as ever before.  Well…………if it came to this—that the Autobots did not want Hot Rod, the mech always unwanted in the past, then Galvatron could finally drag his young Prime to Chaar permanently.

            “Come,” Galvatron said with a chuckle.  “Now you can get some use out of that fancy embassy you had built, correct?  After all, you are still the Ambassador to Chaar, are you not?”

            “Yes, my lord,” Hot Rod said, nodding his head up at Galvatron.

            The Decepticon Leader reached down and plucked up Novablaze and shoved the youngling into Hot Rod’s arms.  The flame-colored mech hugged and nuzzled his son……….both of them crying with happiness.  Galvatron shook his head and sighed as he looked at both his treasure and his miracle—both crying so inexplicably and so loudly.

            “Come, now,” he said to them both, turning on his pedes to walk away.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Random Autobots and Decepticons were ordered by Galvatron to “collect” his spawn and his Prime’s belongings here on Earth—with additional snapped orders to Ultra Magnus to gather such same belongings on Cybertron ASAP, which he would have collected once he had taken his Prime and spawn back to Chaar.  Everyone was ordered to “do it quickly”, for they would be leaving shortly.

            “Magnus………..so, I’m still officially the Ambassador to Chaar—just now I get to be that full-time.  Make sure that Optimus understands about the accords, okay?”  Hot Rod said, rocking on his pedes to get Novablaze to drift into a nap-cycle.  “Don’t let him interfere with Galvatron’s territorial issues—remember, as long as Galvatron doesn’t mess with Galactic Alliance borders or members, he can expand as much as he wants.  I know that leaving the Decepticons alone will be hard for Optimus……..” he trailed off, still every bit the leader he had grown into under Galvatron’s support of him.

            “Don’t worry, Rodi—err, Hot Rod.  I’ll make sure the accords are stuck to on our end,” Ultra Magnus responded, nodding down at his former leader.  “I can’t even begin to tell you how tense it was when Galvatron got here—everyone thought it was the end of the accords.”

            “Yeah.  I’m sorry about that, I just………..didn’t think that he’d want Hot Rod.  Nobody ever wanted Hot Rod………….I………” the flame-colored mech trailed off, keeping his field locked down tight so he didn’t disturb his youngling.  “But with me on Chaar permanently—I can do a lot more there to strengthen the accords and maybe one day we’ll have a real peace treaty.   Cyclonus will probably be pissed to see me every day from now on, but there are Decepticons there that do actually like talking to me.  I’ll have to staff the embassy as well, so I’ll probably ask for a few Autobot volunteers willing to come live on Chaar, too………….I’ll have a balanced staff of Autobots and Decepticons, you know—to make it fair.”

            “It sounds like you’ll be just as busy as you ever were before,” Magnus chuckled, smiling at Hot Rod.

            “Since I was the main representative that the Galactic Alliance knew, you’ll have to explain the situation to them, as well,” Hot Rod said, swiveling and rocking, feeling that Novablaze was almost asleep.  “As soon as I get an ig-mail account set up on Chaar, then I’ll let you pass my contact info to anyone who still wants to talk to me, personally.”

            “Hey, big bro!”  Daniel said, jogging up to Hot Rod and Ultra Magnus.

            “Hey, Danny,” Hot Rod responded with a grin.

            “Consider it a moving gift……….I had Jazz rush me into Portland to go and buy as many seasons as I could.  They only have dual language—English and Japanese, it looks like………but I think ten years of ‘Fuzzy Fiesta’ should keep Nova entertained while he’s still little,” Daniel chuckled softly.  He held up a bag with ten season boxes of HDVD sets for the cute little educational program.

            “We’ll drive everyone crazy on Chaar, I promise,” Hot Rod chuckled, hooking the bag on the pinkie finger of his left servo.

            “Will I be able to visit you guys on Chaar, when I’m on break from school?”  Daniel asked, hopefully.

            “Yeah.  You’ll be welcome at the embassy anytime—though I’ll probably need to ask Galvatron for anywhere else on Chaar,” Hot Rod responded, grinning at his best friend in the entire universe, the human he called his “little brother”.

            “Hot Rod……if you do need anything, just call for me,” Ultra Magnus said, laying a hand on the shoulder not covered by a dozing mechling of the flame-colored mech.  “I can’t make up for the past, but I can promise you that you are no longer ‘unwanted’……….I know we’re all going to miss you here and on Cybertron.”

            “Magnus………” Hot Rod murmured, static filling his vocalizer.  “Yeah……..I’m glad.  I’m glad for everyone I’ve met……….” he whispered.

            “Prime!  It is time to go now!   Come along!”  Galvatron thundered, pointing to the empty space right in front of him as if saying “come here now, or else!”, as he stood on the ramp of his starship.

            “Heh.  Gotta go,” Hot Rod laughed.  “Take care, everyone!”  He called back, walking to the ship.  As he walked up the ramp, Novablaze sleepily looked over his carrier’s shoulder and waved good-bye at Ultra Magnus and Daniel Witwicky.  As the flame-colored mech met up with Galvatron, the Decepticon Leader slapped a possessive servo over Hot Rod’s aft and pushed him into the ship.

 

 

[Not] The End