Exiles (13 page)

The Autobots’ farewell to Velocitron took place, of course, at the entrance to the great hangar near Delta’s racetrack. This was the ceremonial center of Velocitronian culture, and here a great gathering of bots collected to see off the visitors. Optimus Prime looked them over, feeling both pride at their resilience and foreboding at the possibility that Decepticon ideas had accompanied the Autobots here and would proliferate in their absence.

That there was a traitor on board the Ark could not be denied. Optimus Prime dreaded the process of rooting that traitor out. Someone had betrayed the Autobot trust, and to discover who, Optimus was going to have
to question his trust in everyone aboard the Ark, no matter what he had said to Jazz.

At the time of their departure, the Ark stood surrounded by Velocitronians who had come to see the show. The planet’s roads were miraculously free of traffic. “We got here and nobody noticed,” Hound commented. “Now everyone shows up to watch us leave.”

“I can’t decide whether that means they’re happy to see us go or not,” Ratchet said.

Optimus Prime ordered final boarding onto the Ark. “Doesn’t matter,” he said as the Autobots made their way onto the ship. “They have seen us, and they will know the truth.”

One shall stand, one shall fall
, he thought.
That is the truth
.

His last obligation before departure was a final meeting with Override, who waited at the head of a delegation of Velocitron’s leading bots. Behind her, Ransack remained silent. He had not yet progressed to open rebellion, but Optimus Prime was certain he would. At least Override would see it coming as well. At Ransack’s side stood Backfire. The two were whispering quietly to each other, and Optimus Prime had a feeling that their close confidence was a bad omen for the future of Velocitron. It pained him to think that he had brought war to Velocitron in the act of escaping from it on Cybertron. Override was a capable leader and would need all of her resources to keep Velocitron from descending into the same kind of chaos that had engulfed Cybertron.

I will recover the AllSpark
, thought Optimus Prime.
Then I will retrace my steps across the galaxy and sow peace on my return wherever our initial exodus has inadvertently fomented division and war
.

“Be well, Cybertronians,” Override said.

“Velocitron has been a most welcome way station,” Optimus Prime said loudly enough for all the assembled
bots to hear. “Your support of the Autobot cause will be long remembered, and your generosity in time of scarcity will not be forgotten. We will return to Velocitron, and we will bring the strength and prosperity of a restored Cybertron. Do not lose faith in what is right.”

“Prime,” Jazz cut in.

Optimus Prime looked first at Jazz and then in the direction Jazz was pointing. Ransack stood—weapons out—at the head of a mob, all armed and all holding in formation, clearly awaiting his orders. “Override,” he said.

“I know,” she answered without looking in Ransack’s direction.

“I hate to break up this sentimental farewell,” Ransack called, “but I would be remiss if I did not take this opportunity to inform the illustrious Optimus Prime that Velocitron belongs to me now! I claim it, and I say to the Autobots: Leave now or we will finish what Megatron so elegantly began!”

So, thought Optimus Prime. That was the plan all along, for Ransack to bring things on Velocitron to a breaking point and then use the Autobots’ departure for his own ends. He would make the Autobots look like cowards for leaving at the point of open conflict and simultaneously aggrandize his own position.

Except Optimus Prime did not feel like going along with Ransack’s plan.

He strode away from Override across the expanse of ferrocrete between the Ark and the edge of the staging area nearest the hangar, where Ransack’s followers were arrayed.

“Optimus Prime,” Override said behind him. “All is under control.”

“I will make sure of it,” he said, and kept walking. Flanking him, he could sense his most battle-tested
Autobots—Jazz, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead—coming with him.

“Ransack, Megatron’s ideas have corrupted you,” he said, squaring off with the Velocitronian as the assembled crowd shifted and redefined itself. In a moment two opposing formations appeared, and if Optimus Prime was any judge of numbers, the larger force belonged to Override.

Just barely.

But Optimus Prime thought he might tilt the odds a bit before he and the Autobots took their leave. He flipped out his ax and said, “Velocitron is not yours to claim.”

“Oh, is it yours, then?” Ransack mocked him, taking in all of his followers with a sweep of his rifle arm. “Override, did you hear that? Optimus Prime thinks Velocitron is his.”

“I heard nothing of the kind,” Override said. “All I hear is the ravings of a failed comedian.”

“You’ll think it’s funny when I’m using you for parts!” Ransack snarled, and fired.

The shot struck Override in the shoulder, ricocheting away from her armor into the sky as she spun around from the impact. Optimus Prime charged Ransack and belted him to the ground with a blow of his ax. For the moment, the assembled rank and file on both sides waited for orders from their respective commanders. One thing about a society that emphasized winning was that those who did not win were slow to take the initiative for themselves.

Ransack sprang up. Hightail came to his side. Optimus Prime and Bumblebee strode to meet them. Hightail leaped forward, fist cocked and blaster firing. Bumblebee chirped and whistled a challenge, dodging the first shot from the blaster and meeting Hightail’s wild punch with a straight right to the face. Hightail’s head snapped
back, and he dropped to his knees. He got to his feet quickly, but Ransack held up a hand to stop him. “Hightail!”

“Lost your appetite for the fight now that it’s a fight?” Jazz taunted him.

Ransack laughed. “You were leaving, weren’t you? Override and I have much to discuss once you have boarded your Ark and run away again. Keep running. Megatron will love the chase.”

“He might not love it so much when he catches us,” Jazz said.

Override stepped between them. “Ransack, you’re picking a fight you can’t win.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Ransack grated. “Whatever happens today, I can’t lose. This is not over. It won’t be over until Megatron arrives.”

“It will be sooner than that,” Override countered. “Optimus Prime, Velocitron bids you farewell. We will hold against this usurper, and we will hold against Megatron should he arrive on your trail. Go now and know that you have awakened us!”

A booming cheer arose from the assembled ranks of Velocitronians on Override’s side. Then came the tipping point, as from within Override’s formation came the scream of redlining engines. Several of her followers had assumed alt-form and were burning through tight circles, raising smoke that wafted over the opposing positions. Override cried out, “Bot-form!” But it was too late. This insult, born on the racetracks where winners revved mockery at their vanquished competition, goaded Ransack’s forces into fury. Knowing they had come too far to turn back, they charged, and the vast staging area between speedway and hangar exploded into a battlefield. At first the sides looked even, but then the hangar door rolled open with a sound like thunder, and reinforcements on Override’s side poured out into Ransack’s
overcommitted flank. Optimus Prime and the Autobots found themselves spectators. The Velocitronians only wanted to fight one another.

“Prime,” Jazz said over the tumult. “We should get out of here while we can.”

“I do not like leaving a battle undecided,” Optimus Prime said.

“Oh, I think this one’s decided,” Jazz said. “Ransack came here looking to put on a show, and instead he got a real fight.”

Optimus Prime nodded. Jazz’s sense of the situation matched his own. Today the victory would belong to Override. Tomorrow, who knew?
This has been a long time coming
, Optimus Prime thought.
We provided a catalyst, but the elements of the reaction were already in place when we arrived
.

Quickly the battle focused on key areas: the hangar entrance, the main access road, and the gaping entrances into the speedway itself. Override’s bots were sealing off the exits, and Ransack led his followers in a charge against the defenders of the access road. The air was thick with energy fire, the squeal of engines, and the clang of weapons against armor.

From the heart of the battlefield Override raised one arm in a salute. “Go, Autobots! Velocitron will fight with you!”

Optimus Prime beat a passing rebel to the ground and then raised his ax in answer. “Autobots!” he cried. “Roll out!”

He boarded the Ark without looking back, although if the Space Bridge wasn’t working, he thought, it was going to be a short trip.

On the bridge, the command team already had settled into their roles and were most of the way through pre-departure checks.

“Everything looks good,” Silverbolt said. “Fuel reservoir’s holding together.”

“Easy bringing it up to speed,” Optimus Prime said. “Let’s not test those new welds just yet.”

“You sure we should be going, Prime?” Jazz asked. He was watching the battle.

“Is Override holding?”

“She’s more than holding. It’s going to be a rout. For now, anyway.”

Silverbolt, positioned at the command console, added, “I think Ransack played his hand too soon.”

So might we have
, Optimus Prime thought. Much depended on whether the Space Bridge would work.

The powerful thrum of the Ark’s engines grew slowly louder, and the great ship lifted away from the surface. Below them, the battle was turning decisively in Override’s favor. Ransack’s followers were retreating through the only avenue available to them: into the speedway, where smoke already was billowing as fighting spilled onto the infield. Outside the speedway, the assembled bots fighting for Override waved and cheered, consolidating their position and capturing Ransack’s stragglers. The sound did not penetrate the Ark’s hull, but the sentiment did, and it gladdened Optimus Prime. There would be trouble here, but for now, Velocitron belonged with the Autobots.

For confirmation of this assessment Optimus Prime asked Prowl, who had spent most of his time on Velocitron gathering intelligence, “Will Override survive?”

“My guess is yes,” Prowl said. “Her position is stronger than his, and she has most of the planet’s fastest racers on her side. That will be important because of the way Velocitronians revere speed. It’s her war to lose.”

Optimus Prime nodded. There were no certainties. He did not like leaving a battle, but they could risk no further damage to the Ark.

He turned his attention to the crew members, who were watching from the side of the bridge. There was little for him to do until the time came to give the order to traverse the Space Bridge. The Autobots were calm and focused, in marked contrast to Clocker and Mainspring, who seemed to be experiencing space-travel for the first time. They marveled at the Ark’s size, its great age, the immense power implied by the scale of its thrusters. The fuel reservoir was holding together for the moment, and both Velocitronians took pride in knowing that the Autobot quest now rested in some small part on the work of Velocitronian mechanics.

Looking out the main viewport, Mainspring asked, “This is the first time any bot has used a Space Bridge in … how long?”

“Technically, we used a Space Bridge when we left Cybertron,” Silverbolt said.

“Then how long has it been since a bot used a Space Bridge that didn’t blow up?”

None of them knew. It struck them that perhaps no living bot knew the answer to that. Who would have thought to keep track at the time? Who would have known, on that last trip, that it would be the final journey along one of those great spans for uncounted millions of cycles?

“A long time,” Optimus Prime said. He considered the question, thinking back to the great wealth of Iacon’s Hall of Records. The shipping manifests and customs logs of Cybertron’s Space Bridges were all dated millions of cycles before the coming of the civil war. He could not remember the exact date, but the scholar within him suddenly wanted to dig into those records and see if that date could be recovered.

But it would be a long time before Optimus Prime could be a scholar again. Sometime in the distant future
lay the moment when he could bequeath the mantle of Prime to a worthy successor. Until then, he would wear it with pride and resolve. And until then, his wish to bury himself in records and research would take a backseat to the overriding imperative to bring the AllSpark home and restore Cybertron to its long-lost state of peace and prosperity.

“We reset that clock now,” he said with finality. “Let’s go.”

“Here’s a question, though,” Jazz asked, unable to help himself: “Where does this Space Bridge go?”

“Now you ask,” Silverbolt said. “Little too late for that now.”

Jazz looked at Optimus and then at the Velocitronians who had decided to come along. “Does anyone know?”

Clocker shrugged. “Forgot. It’s been a long time since any ship came through. A real long time.”

“It’s true,” Mainspring said. “Nobody knows.”

“I asked Override about that, too,” Optimus Prime said. “She said there were once a number of Space Bridges here, but they broke them down for scrap over the eons. Apparently no one here knows where this Bridge leads.”

“Then let’s go,” Mainspring said.

“Yeah,” Ratchet added. “I didn’t fix this Bridge for nothing.”

He entered a command sequence into the Ark’s navigation system, and the two immense half circles of the Space Bridge’s containment field generator lit up with the vortex energy that created a teleportation gateway. The lights spread along the perimeter and met in the command structure that bridged the gap between them on the side facing away from Velocitron—“up” from a ground perspective. Slowly, for the first time in uncounted cycles, the Space Bridge at Velocitron came to life.

“Looks good from here,” Ratchet said from the command console.

“Hope this one doesn’t blow up, too,” Jazz muttered as if he hadn’t heard.