Between: Optimus and Prime
Was cruising around on TF-Wiki researching stuff for the fic of longassedness when I stumbled on this nd this
Ficcage and world building promptly ensued from headspace.
Disclaimer: Don't own them and not doing this for money.
Optimus and Prime
Characters: Optimus, Lennox, Epps, Simmons, minor appearance: Ratchet, Ironhide, Sideswipe
Summary There were a lot of things he didn’t know about the aliens and Lennox figured the next couple of years would be eye-opening. When Optimus starts disappearing, he knew that the answer would be something out of this world.
Notes: Continued in And the Tank He Rode In On
They didn’t think too much about it the first time it had happened.
A new base meant equipment and supplies. Equipment and supplies needed transportation. Transportation meant containers. And Optimus Prime was already equipped to haul trailers and the Department of Defence was always looking to keep the costs down and hey, Mr Prime, would you mind moving some of this equipment for us?
Lennox and Epps had been indignant. NEST was newly formed, the world was reeling from the knowledge of aliens and the DoD had the leader of said aliens hauling freight. The media would have a field day with it if it got out. Simmons had arched an eyebrow and pointed out that it was good public relations for them if it did.
It hadn’t helped that Optimus actually liked pulling cargo. He’d been initially nervous about it, strangely enough. Lennox had caught the big guy staring at the shipping container as it sat innocently in the warehouse. There had been something glimmering in Optimus’s optics as he ran one enormous metallic hand over the container, as if he was memorizing the shape and texture.
“You don’t have to do this,” Will had said, feeling awkward and ashamed of his government. Maybe it was some cultural faux pas for giant alien robots. Mostly it felt a little demeaning that someone as inspiring as Optimus had been reduced to such a menial task while they waited for the human race to sort itself out.
“No,” Optimus said firmly, in his eon’s old voice, “This is something I need to do.”
He’d put emphasis on the word need but Lennox didn’t know what it meant. There were a lot of things he didn’t know about the aliens and Lennox figured the next couple of years would be eye-opening. Whatever issues the big robot had, he pulled the trailer without a complaint and the strange moment was quickly forgotten as other diplomatic issues rose up.
Until the next time they needed a big shipment brought in. By then, NEST has sorted out their budget and they had enough money that Optimus’s help wasn’t needed. He was busy with other things, negotiating for an embassy, giving speeches assuring the human race the Autobots were the good guys, refusing to give Cybertronian weapons to the military...
It came as a total surprise that when the big trucks rolled in carrying the much needed cargo, Optimus was among their number. At first, Lennox had thought it was a joke. He exchanged an amused glance with Epps at the sight of the flame decals as they unloaded the container.
“Someone on the DoD has a sense of humour,” he said to Epps.
“Wonder what the boss bot will think when he sees this,” Epps replied.
When the trailer had been detached, the two men had a moment’s shock as the Peterbilt glided away without a driver and then unfolded into the boss bot himself. One large helm tilted down at them and Lennox could have sworn that the blue optics were twinkling with humour.
“What,” Lennox spluttered in confusion, “Are you doing here?”
According to Optimus’s schedule, the large mech was meant to be in Washington, helm deep in important negotiations over Cybertronian technology. He was not meant to be here at all.
Robert had recovered quicker than his CO and was no longer gaping. “You know Prime,” he drawled, “You didn’t strike me as the sort of bot who’d play hooky.”
“Optimus, please,” the mech corrected, he was rather insistent on being on a first name basis. He straightened to his full height and something in his posture was different. More relaxed perhaps. His optics were the brightest Lennox had ever seen them. The mech tilted his helm as he considered his reply, “I requested a break.”
Lennox eyed the container behind them. “And they granted it?” he asked sceptically, “On what grounds?”
“Personal matters,” Optimus replied and there was nothing the army captain could say to that. He wasn’t exactly sure what sort of issues the big mech was working through at the moment but something told him it was probably something a human couldn’t relate to.
“You look happy,” Lennox observed neutrally.
“It made me feel complete,” the mech answered softly and Will decided to let the matter drop.
It didn’t end there. Over the next couple of years, as the Autobots began to settle more firmly on Earth and more would arrive, there would be odd intervals where Optimus would disappear off base or away from his duties. Sometimes he would pick up something for NEST, sometimes it was a routine delivery for a completely random company. There had been a panic in NEST initially, the first time a sighting of Optimus had come in, pulling freight and it wasn’t for them. Several discrete calls revealed that the company had no idea who exactly had made a delivery for them, as far as they were concerned it was all normal.
“Lennox?” the sight of Simmons in his office so early in the morning almost had the NEST commander turning about-face and leaving.
“What?” he grumbled blearily as he headed for his desk. It was far too early to be dealing with Simmons and whatever problem that had arisen in the last eight hours since he’d been conscious.
Instead of answering, the man opened a folder and dumped a heap of photos on Lennox’s desk. The major slowly sorted them out as his brain struggled to make sense of what he was seeing.
“Am I dreaming?”
“No,” Simmons answered shortly.
“I think I am dreaming. Since when did Prime work for the UPS?”
“Shut up and help me figure out what game the big guy is playing at,” Simmons snapped, slamming his hands down on Lennox’s desk.
The faintest traces of pity stirred in Lennox as he took in the man in front of him. Simmons was NEST’s head of Intelligence and the pictures must have been a rude shock when they came in. Whilst he and Simmons mutually loathed each other, there was a strange comradeship that came from working with the Autobots together and getting to know the Autobots themselves. Both were equally determined to ensure that the alliance between the mechs and the humans remained strong and right now there had to be enormous pressure on Simmons to explain the pictures in front of him.
“I didn’t hear anything about this,” Will said honestly, “But it’s not the first time he’s done this.”
“Does anyone know why?”
“Nope. Personally I think he does it when he’s stressed, he’s always in a much better mood after he’s pulled some freight.”
“Well. That’s just brilliant, the higher ups are going to love this,” Simmons muttered, “No, it’s not a plot to destroy humanity; he’s just doing the truck equivalent of yoga!”
“Do the UPS know they have the leader of the Autobots making a delivery for them?” Lennox asked, ignoring Simmon’s bitching.
“Surprisingly, no,” the head of Intelligence answered, “It isn’t all that uncommon to see Peterbilts with Prime’s decals and the Autobot symbol now, there are at least 123 vehicles with them in the USA alone. They only recognised him because of his holoform.”
“Well,” Lennox cast a glance at his smart phone, “The boss bot actually doesn’t have any events planned so at least he isn’t skipping anything. Maybe he’ll say something when he gets back.”
Simmons grunted with irritation, gathered up his pictures and left, muttering about burning the photos and hoping that their superiors would be satisfied with whatever bullshit excuse he could come up with.
No one in NEST knew how to broach the subject when Optimus returned, Lennox included. Surveillance doubled on the mech but they couldn’t find any discernible reason for the blip in his behaviour. The Autobots acted as though everything was normal and eventually the humans had to adjust to the inexplicable reason that sometimes Optimus was going to vanish on them and go pull cargo.
Theories abounded all over the base, the most popular (and obvious) one being that Optimus just really liked doing it. Epps, on the other hand, delighted in coming up with ridiculous reasons.
“Maybe it gets him off,” the sergeant offered as they sat in Lennox’s office.
Lennox slowly pushed away the document in front of him as he afforded Epps his full attention. He knew he was going to regret this conversation. “They’re made of metal,” he said carefully, “I don’t think they can get off. And I really, really doubt that that is what Optimus has been doing.”
pps didn’t seem bothered that his CO wanted no part of this. “We don’t know that they can’t do that,” he pointed out, “Seems like a question someone should have asked Ratchet already.”
“And by someone you mean you, right?” the Major smirked.
Epps gave a calm shrug and casually examined his fingernails. “I’m not the one who is responsible for the big Peterbilt that keeps wandering off.”
Lennox scowled at his subordinate. “Thanks,” he said, “Remind me to put you on patrol with the minor twins.”
“Good luck convincing Jazz to swap partners,” Robert retorted, “We have a good thing going. But seriously, maybe Optimus used to be the bot equivalent of a truckie and he’s just going back to his roots.”
“I can’t see Optimus as a truckie,” the NEST commander replied. He reached for his paperwork, nope; the logistics for NEST had not become more appealing, and put it back. Damn. He was stuck in this conversation.
“Well, no one really knows what he did before the war. None of the bots talk about it, not that I blame them.”
“We don’t really know that much about Cybertronians as a whole,” Lennox said wryly. Not from a lack of trying though, there was simply so much to learn about them.
“Exactly. This fetish of his could be anything.”
Will narrowed his eyes at his best friend and Epps had the good sense to recognise his CO had enough of his speculation. “I’m just saying we really should find out before someone important gets wind out it and causes a mass hysteria over nothing. He’s been really antsy lately and I think he’s about to pull another one. You do want to look competent, right?”
“Fine,” Lennox bit out, “I will talk to him,” his eyes slid to his paperwork, “In fact, I’ll go talk to him right now.”
Nothing of course ever went according to plan. It was a sad summary of Lennox’s life but he did end up getting an answer. Of course, it was something beyond anything Lennox’s pitiful human imagination could ever have come up with.
“Major Lennox,” Optimus Prime began as soon as he caught sight of the NEST commander, “Sergeant Epps.”
“Will,” the human insisted firmly. A smirk tugged at his lips, “Just as you insist we call you Optimus.”
“Ah,” the bot shifted and if Lennox didn’t know better, he would say that Optimus was bashful. Which was wrong. Right? “That may be about to change.”
Lennox had that sinking feeling that his world was about to be shattered. Again. “Say what?” he said flatly.
Optimus transformed and opened the driver’s door. “Come for a drive with me, Major? There’s something I need to pick up.”
“Should we be nervous that we’ve brought Ironhide, Ratchet and Sideswipe?” Will asked. He didn’t have a single weapon on him and it was making him twitchy, given the show of force the Autobts were putting on. He was also annoyed Ironhide hadn’t given him a heads-up about this mystery trip.
Scratch that, he was annoyed that Ironhide hadn’t given him any clues about Optimus’s strange behaviour. Maybe the cargo pulling was exercise for a mech Optimus’s size. Like taking a dog for a walk. And he definitely was going to restrict the amount of time he would spend with Epps because now he was thinking like the sergeant.
Optimus laughed. It wasn’t laughter in the conventional sense, more of a gentle full-body shudder that contrasted with his normal smooth driving. “No,” he said, “I would have been fine to do this on my own but Ironhide was insistent that I should bring some security.”
This did nothing to reassure Lennox. “And yet he has no problem with you pulling freight for the UPS, completely unattended,” he muttered, then he froze as he realized just what he’d let slip.
Besides him, Robert Epps grinned like a maniac and asked, “Boss bot, tell the truth. You’ve been secretly sabotaging the free world with your late night deliveries. Either that or you just like giving Simmons a mental breakdown.”
The Peterbilt chuckled, “I was not sure if NEST was keeping track of me. But there will be no more trouble after this.”
“Well, word of advice if you intend to go incognito again. Change your holoform,” Lennox advised. “So, when do we get an answer?”
“Soon.”
Soon turned out to be some obscure location near Table Mountain, Nevada. The bots abandoned the road and even Prime’s famous suspension couldn’t keep the humans from experiencing the most uncomfortable minutes of their lives. At some point, Lennox just closed his eyes and waited for everything to stop.
“We have arrived,” the mech announced eventually.
Lennox opened his eyes to greenery and…something undeniably Cybertronian nestled between the trees. It was larger than any mech in their interplanetary state that Lennox had seen before and he could only assume it was a friendly with how relaxed the Autobots were.
Except for Ironhide, who aimed both canons directly at the thing, but that was Ironhide for you.
“Why didn’t you tell us we had incoming?” Lennox asked as he and Epps left Optimus’s cabin.
Optimus backed up and transformed carefully. “Because I could not risk anyone knowing it was coming,” he said quietly.
“Optimus, are you certain this is it?” Ironhide asked urgently.
“Yes,” the big mech replied. One enormous metal hand came to rest on his chest-plates, just above his spark chamber, Lennox recalled the lessons Ratchet had given them. “I would recognise it anywhere.”
“Doesn’t seem to be damaged,” Ratchet announced, “Scans are coming up with a negative. Of course, deep space armour always messes with the readings, but given Optimus isn’t fretting, I’m going to assume they’re correct.”
“So, if you don’t mind the ignorant humans asking, what is it?” Epps asked inquisitively.
Optimus approached the alien structure but none of the bots made a move to follow. He knelt and laid one hand on it, a port opened on the structure and a cable from Optimus’s wrist slid down into it. A shudder ran through his frame then he went still. There was the familiar sound of transformation as parts of the object shifted and unfolded, eventually one small segment split away from the whole. Both kept on changing, the small part became something that could quite possibly pass for a Cybertronian tank and the other…
The other kept getting larger. Mass displacement, Lennox realized, storing the excess mass in subspace and now it was being removed. When it was finished, Lennox wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking at, none of the mechs he had seen resembled it.
“Optimus Prime,” Sideswipe said reverently.
Epps shot his commander a confused look. “That didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes it did,” Sideswipe retorted. “That is Optimus Prime.”
“I think your translator program is broken.”
“No, that is Optimus Prime,” Ratchet spoke up, optics firmly locked onto the scene in front of him. “All of him.”
The two humans mouthed Ratchet’s words to themselves as they tried to make sense of them. “You’re going to have to run that by me again,” Epps said eventually, “With a lot more words and answers. Because I could have sworn that Optimus Prime has been on planet Earth these last couple of years.”
The medic huffed. “It’s an imperfect translation,” he said, “A minor variation in the glyphs that your language just won’t allow for. The mech that you have been dealing with, that is Optimus. However, that is only one component of the complete being Optimus Prime. But since Optimus is also a Prime…well, you get the idea.”
Lennox’s mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments as he recalled the bot’s insistence on being referred to as Optimus. “Oh,” he said. “Oh. So, he’s like Arcee?”
“Not exactly. Arcee is comprised of three components, like Optimus Prime but they can combine to form a single mech. Optimus Prime does not.”
“Then what is he?”
“Complicated by the sounds of it,” Epps groaned.
Optimus straightened and disconnected and the large component that Lennox still hadn’t figured out what it was began to change again. It folded up into a familiar shape.
Epps swore. The corner of Lennox’s mouth might have twitched.
“Well,” he said, “That explains a lot.”
It didn’t take long before Simmons paid a visit to his office.
“Optimus has a trailer,” the man said without preamble, “Now, I know he has some strange obsession with hauling cargo about but please tell me he did not steal it.”
“Actually, it’s his,” Lennox said with a wicked grin, looking up from his paperwork.
Simmons narrowed his eyes at him. “NEST funding is not to be used-”
“He didn’t buy it.”
The head of Intelligence didn’t exactly relax but he flopped lower in his chair. “Oh good,” he said. After a moment’s pause, he said somewhat hesitantly, “It’s something really weird, isn’t it.”
“Yep.”
Simmons picked up one of Lennox’s pens and began to fiddle with it. “I’m almost afraid to ask. And I do not say things like that lightly.”
“Apparently it’s another part of him. It turns into a combat deck, capable of being remotely controlled by Optimus, transform into an artillery canon and serve as a communications booster.”
The agent’s face took on a pinched look. “Why has he had a piece of himself floating around in space? Especially one that useful?”
“It’s how he’s been maintaining long distance communication with the rest of the Autobot high command. He can give real time responses to situations that are occurring lightyears away.”
Lennox didn’t mention the quantum spark link that made such a thing possible. That information had been conveyed to him in the strictest confidences.
Simmons gave a long whistle. “Wish NBE-1 had something like that,” he said. Despite Lennox’s best efforts, he couldn’t get Simmons to stop calling Megatron that but he didn’t do it to the Autobots so it wasn’t that big a problem. “Can you imagine what our communication networks would be like right now?”
With that remark, he was on his feet and out of the office. Lennox turned his attention back to his paperwork.
“I can’t wait until he sees Roller,” Epps said.
“When I was rebuilt into Optimus Prime, this frame originally was my sole body,” Optimus Prime had said as they headed back to base, the Combat Deck and Roller secured behind him. “As the fighting became more brutal, I made the decision to be upgraded. Two components, one capable of long range communications and the other for situations in which I am too large to act. Roller and the Combat Deck are a part of me, though they are not sentient. Roller is capable of acting independently of me but the Combat Deck cannot. Both carry a small piece of my spark so we are quantum linked. If they were to be destroyed, I would still be able to function though inversely they would not.”
“And the trucking?” Epps asked.
“It has been a very long time since all of me has been together like this,” the mech said, “When the Department of Defence asked me to pull freight the first time, it brought back memories. Of being whole. Of being one.”
Lennox could fill in the rest. The many disappearances as Optimus tried to regain something that he had lost or something close to it. “Well at least you’ll stop pulling disappearing acts on us,” he sighed with relief.
“My apologies, Will,” Optimus Prime said, “But sometimes I truly do need a break from your politics.”
End
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