Random Intervals 7
TITLE: Random Intervals
SERIES: Imperfection
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: okami_myrrhibis
A little bit of Optimus Prime... poor guy...
Optimus Prime studied the data pad Ironhide had handed him and his optics were fixed on the numbers displayed there. Numbers and names. The numbers were bad enough, but the names made it nearly unbearable. He lowered the report and looked out of the window overlooking the City. Cold facts.
Names without faces. He didn't know anyone on this list, but all of them had died because of him.
A casualty list.
Optimus shuddered and wished he could simply file away these facts in his mind like he filed away the report. He accessed a folder and hesitated. He hated the folder. It looked like nothing special was in it, but it was the most important folder among the whole collection. Maybe it should be colored in black, to fit its contents, but it was just a neutral gray.
He opened it and was confronted with a whole collection of the dreaded papers. They dated back to the first days of the Cybertronian civil war. Optimus still remembered that day, hearing about the Lord High Protector launching an attack on an outpost of the Elite Guard. He had always thought Megatron capable of walking over proverbial dead bodies to insure their planet’s survival, their people’s survival, but never literally. He had killed mechs who had been loyal to Cybertron for all their existence.
They had been wiped out.
Unsuspecting.
Unprepared.
This time there had been twenty-three off-lined.
Only twenty-three, a tiny voice in his mind said. It could have been more. But it also could have been less! He felt sick to the core. This should not have happened! He had been there, he could have done something!
The image of the crumbling building was burned into his mind, like so many other catastrophic events. This time he had not seen the bodies, but there had been times when he had seen them: mangled, broke, lifeless bodies - their sparks extinguished.
They had perished protecting their leader, Optimus Prime. They had given their sparks to keep him safe as he and others had made for safer grounds. Ironhide had been at his side and he knew Ratchet had been there later. He hadn’t said a word about the dead, but Optimus had seen it in his optics.
Slaughtered.
Because their leader’s life was so much more important. Because they believed Prime could throw off Megatron’s crushing grip on their world.
For so long as the Allspark was safe, so were they.
Optimus felt a tremor run through his system.
We can rebuild structures and repair streets, but we can't bring back the dead!
Not even the Allspark could.
Optimus rose out of his chair and walked over to the window, hands clasped behind his back. Curse this war! It has already cost enough lives!
His fist connected with the wall and he dented it slightly. Optimus gave a hiss of anger and frustration.
This is war, the small voice told him. Mechs die.
Of course they did. And he saw how many had died in this one already. He had access to all the numbers, all the ended lives, all the senseless deaths. He knew there was death and he hated himself for letting it happen.
Optimus leaned heavily against the wall, staring at the folder and the single report not yet filed away. Disgust nearly overwhelmed him and he suddenly had the urge to get out of here, to leave the claustrophobic confines of his office. He needed space, he needed air -- he needed to get his mind on other things.
But what was there aside from the war?
Nothing.
It was their existence, and maybe one day it would be all their death. Because as long as the Allspark was on Cybertron, no one was safe.
Someone needs a hug now! :)
SERIES: Imperfection
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: okami_myrrhibis
A little bit of Optimus Prime... poor guy...
Optimus Prime studied the data pad Ironhide had handed him and his optics were fixed on the numbers displayed there. Numbers and names. The numbers were bad enough, but the names made it nearly unbearable. He lowered the report and looked out of the window overlooking the City. Cold facts.
Names without faces. He didn't know anyone on this list, but all of them had died because of him.
A casualty list.
Optimus shuddered and wished he could simply file away these facts in his mind like he filed away the report. He accessed a folder and hesitated. He hated the folder. It looked like nothing special was in it, but it was the most important folder among the whole collection. Maybe it should be colored in black, to fit its contents, but it was just a neutral gray.
He opened it and was confronted with a whole collection of the dreaded papers. They dated back to the first days of the Cybertronian civil war. Optimus still remembered that day, hearing about the Lord High Protector launching an attack on an outpost of the Elite Guard. He had always thought Megatron capable of walking over proverbial dead bodies to insure their planet’s survival, their people’s survival, but never literally. He had killed mechs who had been loyal to Cybertron for all their existence.
They had been wiped out.
Unsuspecting.
Unprepared.
This time there had been twenty-three off-lined.
Only twenty-three, a tiny voice in his mind said. It could have been more. But it also could have been less! He felt sick to the core. This should not have happened! He had been there, he could have done something!
The image of the crumbling building was burned into his mind, like so many other catastrophic events. This time he had not seen the bodies, but there had been times when he had seen them: mangled, broke, lifeless bodies - their sparks extinguished.
They had perished protecting their leader, Optimus Prime. They had given their sparks to keep him safe as he and others had made for safer grounds. Ironhide had been at his side and he knew Ratchet had been there later. He hadn’t said a word about the dead, but Optimus had seen it in his optics.
Slaughtered.
Because their leader’s life was so much more important. Because they believed Prime could throw off Megatron’s crushing grip on their world.
For so long as the Allspark was safe, so were they.
Optimus felt a tremor run through his system.
We can rebuild structures and repair streets, but we can't bring back the dead!
Not even the Allspark could.
Optimus rose out of his chair and walked over to the window, hands clasped behind his back. Curse this war! It has already cost enough lives!
His fist connected with the wall and he dented it slightly. Optimus gave a hiss of anger and frustration.
This is war, the small voice told him. Mechs die.
Of course they did. And he saw how many had died in this one already. He had access to all the numbers, all the ended lives, all the senseless deaths. He knew there was death and he hated himself for letting it happen.
Optimus leaned heavily against the wall, staring at the folder and the single report not yet filed away. Disgust nearly overwhelmed him and he suddenly had the urge to get out of here, to leave the claustrophobic confines of his office. He needed space, he needed air -- he needed to get his mind on other things.
But what was there aside from the war?
Nothing.
It was their existence, and maybe one day it would be all their death. Because as long as the Allspark was on Cybertron, no one was safe.
Someone needs a hug now! :)