Location: Cybertron
•
After the skirmish for a small amount of Energon that Decepticon forces were attempting to transport. Aquastrike, Arcee and Bumblebee intercepted these forces and retrieved the Energon. Aquastrike suffered minor injuries.
•
Aquastrike's POV

****

Evacuate Cybertron?! Leave?!

"You can't be serious, Optimus!" Ratchet exclaims from behind me, the sound of the items he'd been previously putting away clattering against the countertop.

The Prime's long-time friend and trusted confidant is the first to speak, his bewildered tone echoing the feeling of every other bot in the room.

"The Doc is right!" I nod, sharing a brief look of confusion with the Medic before turning once more to face our leader. "If we leave, then what was it all for?"

"How are we ever gonna get outta here? The 'Cons have control of the airspace with Starscream's army of Seekers!"

"We don't have a ship!"

"Megatron won't let us just leave!"

The flurry of questions and absolutely stunned remarks fill the infirmary, the voices so loud, even Optimus Prime has to raise his voice to sound over them.

"Enough!" The Prime demands, and instantly a silence settles before he continues, his voice lowering substantially. "All of your questions and remarks are valid. However, we must consider the very real possibility that Cybertron is lost - for now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" My sister chimes in, servo on her hip, a puzzled look upon her features.

"Aquastrike encountered a group of six Decepticons harvesting the small bit of Energon you see there," Optimus explains, gesturing to the trailer Bee had towed inside, sitting off to the corner. "These forces seemed just as desperate as we are to keep it in their possession."

"They sure put up a fight," Arcee nods as I merely motion to my patched up side.

"Which means that Energon is far more scarce than we thought."

"The war has taken a heavy toll on all of us... It would seem that neither side stopped to consider the consequences of our actions on the very planet we're fighting over," Ratchet muses softly, a dazed look gracing his faceplate, optics glistening with sorrow.

"So you're saying there's not really much left to fight for?" Jazz, another one of Optimus' closest friends pipes up, stepping forward slightly. "Planet-wise?"

At this, the Prime nods slowly.

"Indeed. Cybertron needs time to heal from the damage we have inflicted upon it and," Our leader pauses, seeming to debate his next few words carefully. "We need to locate new sources of Energon."

The silence becomes thick yet again, the processors of every bot in the room no likely abuzz with things.

Mine included.

Leave Cybertron? The only home I've ever known? Then we'd just be letting Megatron win, wouldn't we?

But if we stay here, we'll all just end up dying - regardless of Autobot or Decepticon.

"Didn't we scatter the majority of Energon stockpiles to the stars before the war escalated?" I mull over aloud, earning a familiar sounding scoff.

"Good luck locating that!" Ratchet chuckles with a huff of defeat, realizing that Optimus' expression had quickly become thoughtful.

"It may be our only chance of survival, my old friend," He nods solemnly. "But the subject still remains; we need a suitable ship in order to accomplish such a feat as evacuating Cybertron."

"Surely the Doc there could whip us somethin' up. Right, Ratchet?" Jazz quips with a a slight grin, only to earn an optic roll from the Medic who just looks flabbergasted.

"Building such a space faring vessel would require cycles worth of work and an abundant amount of resources which at this moment we do not currently posses!" Ratchet explains, voice raising slightly, optic ridges furrowing in something almost characterized as anger. "So no, Jazz. I cannot 'whip something up.'"

A silence settles within the infirmary yet again.

"So what do we do?" I muse aloud, stepping forward towards Optimus, optics meeting his.

Across the Prime's faceplate flashes an expression of distraught so sincere... but as fast as it appeared, it's gone, replaced by a simple look of uncertainty.

"That, I do not know," Our leader sighs, his gaze resting upon each and every one of the bots in the room before once more resting upon me. "But I do know this: what we are trying to accomplish will not happen quickly. We need to first begin alerting the others about our plans."

"Maybe their processors might have some fresh ideas," Arcee shrugs, tapping Bumblebee on his shoulder plate as she turns to leave. "Bee and I will head to Kalis to deliver the message and our newfound pieces of Energon that were so important."

The two-wheeler motions to my patched up side, evidently referencing my reckless engagement.

Stalking out of the room, the black and yellow Scout on her tail, a light chatter fills the space.

"Bulkhead and I will head to Tagan Heights," Jazz nods, stepping forward, seeking the Prime's permission. "Maybe the scientists there can put their processors together and drum up a few ideas."

"Can I come with?" Swiftrazor inquires from my side, quickly catching up with the pair who had already headed towards the exit.

"Wow," I chuckle, shaking my head, my sister turning to pass me a quizzical look. "Hilarious. Leaving behind the wounded - I see how it is."

"You need to rest, Aqua," She nods, sharing a look of confirmation with the Medic behind me. "You lost a bit of Energon and I'm sure you took quite a few hits, too."

Watching as the trio bids farewell to Optimus, realization begins to sink in and so does the fatigue.

Sitting back in the chair, I settle in, a heavy sigh escaping my lips.

Its just me, Ratchet and Optimus left in the Hall of Records and this little corner that had been designated as the infirmary.

The silence now is rather comforting - broken up by the odd noise of the Medic finishing up putting away his medical supplies.

However, Optimus isn't making a sound.

In fact, as I lift my head to see where the Prime had gone, yet another wave of emotion cascades over me - this time: a sort of fear.

Optimus Prime is silently gazing out the window, his back to Ratchet and I, head hanging low.

"Optimus?" I muse aloud, my voice so soft, I'm surprised when the mech turns to face me, prompting me to continue.

Though I have to pause, uncertain of what exactly to say.

Fear of the future and the unknown is nagging at me, but by the look upon the Prime's faceplate, I can safely assume he must feel the same.

"We'll survive," I murmur, meeting his optics, hoping that genuine assurance shines within my own.

"We always do," The other bot in the room chimes in rather solemnly, approaching his friend's side and laying a reassuring servo on his shoulder plate.

A beat of quiet passes before anyone speaks yet again.

"Thank you," Optimus murmurs, a soft smile on his features as he turns to both Ratchet and I. "Both of you."

"We're with you 'till the end, boss," I grin in return, the fatigue becoming stronger now.

And as I allow my systems to fall into statis, a new feeling of peace replaces the earlier fear and uncertainty.

We'll be fine.

We'll survive.

Like, Ratchet said: we always do. We always find a way.

And if not...

Well, at least we'll all go down together.

****

Some time had passed since that fateful moment Optimus Prime had declared that Cybertron was to be evacuated.

Enough time that the word managed to get out...

And for an appropriate vessel to have been created.

It had taken a massive group effort to cobble together a large enough and capable enough ship.

But with the assistance of the scientists and engineers who had remained neutral or joined the Autobot cause from Tagan Heights, the vessel was quickly created.

And I found myself right in the middle of it all, assigned by Optimus to keep an eye out for trouble - considering the ship, now dubbed the Ark by Jazz, was absolutely massive.

A great attention seeker; even if being built underground.

Thankfully, as the building progressed, little to no issues were raised from a surveillance perspective.

But, considering what we were trying to accomplish was being rushed and supplies were limited, quite a few technological issues arose, forcing my involvement of all things.

As time progressed and the build progressed, I found myself learning all sorts of things I hadn't previously known - basic aspects of engineering, if you will.

And to think; if Optimus had never taken the stance towards the High Council all that time ago to end the caste system, I might've never been able to have learned anything new that was outside my caste.

It certainly is interesting how fast things can change.

And speaking of change...

"Today's the day," A now much more familiarly friendly voice sounds from behind me, causing a soft smile to spread across my features.

Though as I turn to face the very bot who I'd been working alongside with throughout this entire Ark building process, I allow my grin to fade.

Dropping the wiring I had been tinkering with previously, Ratchet comes into my view, a slight grin still evident on his face plate.

"Indeed it is," I reply nonchalantly, simply nodding.

"You're a fast learner," The Medic states, gesturing to the mess of wires off to the side, a hint of something in his tone I can't quite make out.

"What can I say? Someone had to figure it out."

The white and orange mech nods silently, seeming to be mulling over his next few words.

Though when he rests a servo on my shoulder plate, earning a startled gasp from me, confusion fills my processor.

"You're needed up top," He explains, tone soft, almost compassionate?

"I can't just leave this sitting here unfinished," I protest, gesturing to the mess of the Ark's interior we're currently in. "Can't Optimus find someone else?"

"The Ark is going to remain unfinished, Aquastrike," Ratchet states abruptly, tone raising slightly before lowering once more, a trace of saddness shining in his optics.

"What?" I muse, bewilderment in my own voice.

"We're evacuating sooner than we expected," He explains, gesturing once more to the disheveled interior surrounding us. "We are running out of time. And the time that we do have left must be used accordingly."

Sighing heavily, my gaze surveys the rather bleak looking interior walls surrounding me.

"What's the plan?"

"The last of the Energon from Kalis  needs to be retrieved and brought aboard. You, myself, along with Bumblebee and your sister have been assigned to retireve it."

"Straight from Optimus?"

"The one and only."

Sharing one last look with the Medic, I nod wordlessly, kicking aside the wiring.

"Let's get this show on the road then, shall we?"

****

The trailer in my rearview is almost full by the looks of things, with the black and yellow Scout dropping in the last few crates of Energon, it's blue brilliance peeking out through the black storage boxes.

"Let's hurry this up already!" Swiftrazor chides from beside me, casually leaning against the wall in her bipedal mode, simply watching Bumblebee load the last of the contents.

"Make sure not a piece has been left behind!" A new voice joins from my other side.

That's Ratchet's voice - I'd be able to tell that tone anywhere.

In his servos are an array of medical and scientific devices, some of which are in their carrying cases, others that are void of any sort of protection.

"You doing a science experiment there, Doc?" My sister taunts once more, earning a huff and an optic roll from the Medic.

"Has she always been this aggravating?" Ratchet mumbles, assuming his alt mode beside me, our other two team mates doing the same.

"Unfortunately," I reply with a chuckle, glancing at Swiftrazor's own alt mode in my rearview. "She always has been."

"Enough chatter you two nerds!" She exclaims once again, earning a collective sigh from the three of us. "Let's just get back to the rendezvous point already!"

Revving his engine, Bumblebee takes the lead and the four of us roll out, leaving a crumbling and empty Kalis in our wake.

But as we roll across the war-torn landscape, I can't help but begin to see just how right Optimus was about all of this.

At first, we'd all been beyond skeptical - leaving the very planet that we've been fighting over?

Now though, as my tires bite into the dusty surface beneath me, I can see that there isn't much left to fight over.

"Needless blood-spill," I can practically hear Ratchet's sorrowed tone echo inside my processor from our last in-depth conversation, having stumbled across one another taking a breather one night while working on the Ark.

I had just frowned in response, unsure of what else to really say.

The Medic had joined the war-effort far before I had.

He'd seen some pretty grotesque things... and proved his metal, too.

"And now we're leaving..." He'd continued, turning to face me with an expression of uncertainty and slight anger. "Meaning that all of that blood-spill, all of the Sparks we've lost, was it all for nothing?"

In that moment, that question had struck me like a blow to the side, knocking me to my knees.

And even now, as the drive to the rendezvous point stretches on, I can't help but mull that question over yet again: was it all for nothing?

"Aqua. Aqua?" A familiar voice pulls me from my thoughts, rooting me back to the task at hand - driving straight.

"Swift? What is it?"

"Check your rearview, over head," Comes the reply, an uncertainty and fear in her tone. "Is that what I think it is?"

Turning my attention to the sky, a sudden rush of fear ripples through me.

Seekers.

Eight of them.

All flying in formation, clearly following our every move.

"Seekers," I declare aloud through the Comms. "Any recommendations there, Ratch?"

"We can't keep driving - we'll lead them straight to the Ark which should be swarming with Autobot refugees."

"So we fight?" Bee muses, slowing down a bit, drawing the four of us closer.

Uncertainty floods my systems.

Needless blood-spill.

But we can't lead them straight to the Ark! That would be suicide!

"We've got incoming!" My sister announces suddenly, once more tearing me from my thoughts, her bipedal mode appearing in my rearview.

Following suit, I quickly assume my own bipedal mode, triggering my blasters to be out and at the ready, aimed at the oncoming Seekers.

"We're gonna be outnumbered," Ratchet informs from my side, his own servos no longer present, replaced instead by a pair of blades.

"And outgunned," Bumblebee reminds us, voice cracking and fading.

"Right. Seekers are all equipped with missiles."

"Relax! For all we know, they just want to chat!" Swiftrazor chuckles, her own weapons out and at the ready, her tone attempting to sound humorous but failing miserably to mask her fear.

With wide optics, the slim Seekers that had been flying overhead come flying towards the ground, all eight of them assuming their bipedal modes with such elevated swagger and practiced, disgusting elegance, it makes me wince.

"Hello Autobots," Their leader greets coldly, his blood-red optics boring into my own as his gaze surveys the four of us, along with our trailer of Energon and other supplies. "I've heard rumors that the lot of you are leaving Cybertron behind for Megatron to finally rule."

"Don't believe everything you hear, Starscream," The Medic at my side scoffs, addressing the lead Seeker by name, which surprises me slightly.

"Ah yes, and Optimus' prized Medic would know a thing or two about spreading false hopes," The Seeker jeers, stepping closer, his other Decepticon forces flanking him.

"What do you want, Scream?" I demand, voice steely, my blaster aimed clearly at the Seeker's Spark.

Raising his servos in mock surrender he chuckles.

"An answer to a question, quite simply," He explains, a grin spreading on his face plate.

"Yeah? And what would your question be you filthy piece of Decepticon scum? It's not like you're someone important - just some Seeker doing Megatron's dirty work," My sister chides from my other side, her all-too familiar arrogance slipping into her tone.

Before I can even comprehend what is happening around me, Starscream is past me, digits wrapped tight against Swiftrazor's throat, raising her off the ground.

"How dare you disrespect me, Autobot! I am Starscream, Commander of the Energon Seekers! Cybertron's finest warriors and second in command to Lord Megatron!" He exclaims, clearly furious at the jab to his authority.

Enough so to apparently implement physical force.

"Enough!" I yell, re-centering my blaster to the Seeker's Spark once more, flanked by Bumblebee and Ratchet who are also at the ready. "Let her go and maybe we'll answer your question."

Time seems to slow as my sister is lifted there, struggling against the Seeker's surprisingly strong grasp, her throat visibly beginning to cave in.

"Have some morality, Starscream!" Ratchet demands from behind me, attempting to coax the 'Con off the ledge. "We will answer your question if you let her go!"

But, our words seem to have no effect on the rage-filled Decepticon.

And as Swiftrazor's now limp body drops to the dusty ground, her optics flickering, that's when it hits me.

Quite literally.

Stumbling, I reel around to face the source of the blow that was landed to the back of my helm, only to find a Seeker with his missile aimed directly at my Spark.

My other two team mates are in the same predicaments - both of them pinned to the spot by Seekers.

"Foolish Autobots," Starscream tisks, stepping closer to me, optics glistening with malice. "There is really something you should know - we Decepticons are truly masters at the art of Deception. Hence our name."

Watching in horror, time seems to slow yet again as the lead Seeker in front of me triggers his missile with a sickeningly wicked grin, it's target instantly being sent flying.

And that target is none other than the crumpled form of my very own sister.

Swiftrazor.

A newfound rage swells within me at the sight in front of my very optics, my processor too blurry to process what exactly had just happened in less than a nanoklik.

"You monster!" I scream, drawing my forearm blades and steeling myself against Starscream, who is nonchalantly standing in front of me, his second missile aimed directly at me.

"Now you're getting it," He applauds mockingly, passing me one last wicked smirk before assuming his alt mode and taking to the skies, his thruster sending me reeling, the heat momentarily unbearable. "Enjoy picking up the pieces! I wonder if the Doc will be able to work a miracle this time!"

The rest of the Seekers follow after their leader, assuming their own airborne alt modes before disappearing from view, the sound of their engines only left as an echo.

An echo that rattles around my processor as reality finally sinks in, adrenaline quickly vanishing.

Falling to my knees in utter shock, a cry of agony escapes me, the image of my sister's scattered remains burned into my memories for good.

"Cover her!" A distant order is barked, barely meeting my ringing audio receptors, my entire form numb and frozen to the spot in utter grief.

I feel a presence behind me, their back almost pressed against mine, a new flurry of sounds surrounding me.

Another presence is beside me now, one of their servos resting on my shoulder plate, the other on my back.

"Aquastrike," The voice beside me yells over the rising clamor, the servo that had been on my shoulder shaking me lightly.

"She's gone," Is all I can formulate, my voice barely a whisper, my gaze fixed on the ground which is quickly becoming dustier by the nanoklik. "My sister is gone. I couldn't do anything!"

"It all happened too fast," The voice at my side assures calmly, though a rising urgency carries within it. "It is not your fault."

That's when the fog lifts.

Blaster fire is hitting the ground every-which way I look, the dust is rising at the bedlam, and the black and yellow Scout is returning fire.

The Seekers must've circled back to finish us off.

Turning to face the presence beside me, I gasp, meeting a familiar pair of pained blue optics.

"Ratchet?" I mumble, gaze wandering over the Medic, coming out of my grief-stricken haze, reality quickly setting in.

"We have to go," He explains, ducking as a Seeker shot explodes aways behind us. "Now."

"But Swiftrazor..." I trail off, my optics once more setting sights on the twisted and scattered remains of my sister, puddles of Energon surrounding them.

The Medic's optics soften, a sorrowed look gracing his features.

"There is no time, Aquastrike," He urges, helping me back to a standing position, much to Bumblebee's delight - a series of urgent beeps and whirrs emitting from him.

Needless blood-spill.

Sparing one final glance over my shoulder as we take off running, a pang of grief so deep resonates within me... soon morphing into a new found rage.

Assuming my alt mode with some difficulty, I take off speeding after Ratchet and Bumblebee, leaving behind the remains of yet another Autobot.

"Starscream," I muse aloud to no one in particular, setting sights on the sleek Seeker in my rearview, his wicked grin still not fading. "I will make you pay for all you've done."

And all the Sparks you've extinguished.