Aftermath- Chapter Six: Optimus Prime
Uh, sorry for the delay! :)
Universe: Till all are one
Beta: Starfire201
Continuation: AU, G1
Genre: Adventure, drama
Characters: Bumblebee, Optimus Prime; Prowl, Jazz and Starscream are mentioned
Summary: Optimus remembered his shaking hands that held the data pad. His officers and friends in front of him, waiting with cold, determined optics. The moment that had put his own life into perspective. "But Prowl and Jazz never intended to give me any chance to do this. Had I disagreed in that breem in my office, I wouldn't have left it alive."
6. Optimus Prime
Guilt tore at Optimus' spark as he watched Rook and Blaster's newcast about the trial for the fifth orn in a row. Just like most of his people he wasn't able to look away, to miss even one second of it. It still seemed so unbelievable, impossible. How had he overlooked this? And Primus above, had they done these crimes in his name?
He couldn't count anymore how often lawyers or Enforcers had called him to confirm some data, to prove that they had or hadn't been somewhere. But never as a true witness. He had never seen them do something suspicious. They were good like that.
As the Prime, he would have been allowed to watch the trial live in the Hall of Justice anyway. He had considered it briefly, but the order to Ironhide to arrest them alone had hurt so much that the thought of attending seemed to be agony in itself. In fact, he noticed most Autobots seemed to have this problem, even those called on as witnesses. They entered the hall if they had to, and left in a hurry again.
The only exception was Blaster, who provided interesting insights and neutral, friendly commentary - a fact for which Optimus was very thankful. Somehow Blaster's interpretation made it all more bearable.
But not better.
Nothing could make this kind of betrayal better.
He checked his chronometer, then looked at the screen again. It was just a repeat of last orn's trial, now followed by a five orn break so that both sides could prepare and adjust their statements. Not that Prowl and Jazz's defense seemed to need adjustment, seeing as so far it was non-existent. Their young lawyer, Sunflare, was often very obviously frustrated, even as he did all the bureaucracy and gestures a lawyer was required to do. It was the only thing that brought a smile to Optimus' lips while watching the newscast.
The apartment door pinged, and with relief he ended the programme.
"Please come in, Bumblebee."
The younger mech stepped inside the living room. As one of the rare regular guests, he didn't give the small windows stretching from floor to the ceiling or the big painting of an organic world any glances. Two staircases led away into the area reserved for those closest to Optimus' spark, Elita-One, Ironhide, Magnus... Prowl and Jazz.
Quietly, Optimus contemplated that Bumblebee had earned that kind of trust as well, but so far no opportunity had arisen, and the last orns had shaken his world too much to offer it now.
"Hello, Optimus," greeted Bumblebee, none of the usual smiles gracing his face. "How are you?"
The concern was plain on the minibot's face. The automatic answer laid on Optimus' glossa, but it fell to ash as he realised that it would be nothing but a lie. Bumblebee deserved better. "I'll live. And you? It can't be easy to discuss it all with the United Council..."
The yellow bot's optics dimmed. "It isn't. Most are blaming Autobots, regardless of their own faction during the Great War. Some even want to take advantage of the situation..."
"Of course," muttered Optimus with distaste, drawing a slight smile out of Bumblebee. Even though the yellow bot had chosen a career in politics and become the senator of Iacon, he still didn't like the backstabbing and manoveuring in the back rooms. "Please tell me more. But first, take a seat and can I bring you anything?" His poor friend looked far too tired for this time of orn. Had he recharged at all?
"Mid-grade would be fantastic. The Council meeting was far longer than I expected." He sat down on the couch and watched as Optimus mixed the energon.
"Will they call upon me?" asked his former Autobot leader, worried.
As Prime he normally didn't concern himself with the ornly politics of the Council, something he was very thankful for. But important things, changes in their laws, big decisions, all these had to be brought before him for confirmation.
"I think not." Bumblebee took the energon cube with a smile. "It's mainly posturing. Jockeying for more power, influence and so on. But the first are already noticing that it's not working. The normal mechs do not want to blame an entire faction for the last war." He looked into the cube, and said quieter: "I think they do not even want to blame Prowl or Jazz. They are just asking why."
Which was the best they could expect under these circumstances. Thousands of mechs were already convinced that Prowl and Jazz victims of an corrupted system, while others were just as sure that they themselves were the corruption. Every time a verdict was spoken, the news channels also reported about demonstrations and small riots. Yet so far there had been no deactivations. Most citizens were still waiting and watching, creating an atmosphere ready to explode at the smallest infraction that would prove one side right.
Optimus took a seat across from the yellow bot, a cube in both servos. "Aren't we all asking that? I know that I am." Pain seared in his spark and for a moment he lost his words.
Bumblebee just nodded, his optics reflecting the same pain. "I as well. It simply doesn't fit. Jazz always has a reason and Prowl, Primus, he plans vorns in advance. What would they gain by those crimes?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all," answered Optimus tonelessly.
"Exactly! And I know that they don't enjoy the pain of others!" yelled Bumblebee. "This makes no sense! And worst of all, they do not defend themselves!"
Optimus reached out with his hand, but then faltered, uncertain if it would be welcomed. "Bumblebee, my friend..."
"It doesn't fit, it all doesn't fit! The Prowl and Jazz I knew would never..." The minibot vented in anger and then slumped against the couch. "I just don't understand." The words cracked with pain.
"No one does." Optimus looked to his window. "I've spoken with Ironhide, his Enforcers, the lawyers... even with Rung, the psychologist. They all agree that the crimes have happened and that there is always at least one piece of evidence that they have done it, but..."
Bumblebee leaned forward. "But?"
He struggled to find the right words to describe the frustration of those he had talked with. "But they always only find one or two. It disturbs them. Apparently, in an investigation once you've found the culprit and know where to search you find more and more evidence. Normally."
"Not this time, though," concluded the yellow senator and frowned. "I've already heard that the charges in many cases look thin. Mechs on the streets whisper they're fabricated. But if they are, why aren't they fighting them?"
"I don't know." Optimus stood and walked to the window, looking down at the gigantic seeker-statue in the plaza. "It's in moments like this I miss Starscream." He looked back in time to see Bumblebee's shocked expression and couldn't help but chuckle: "Don't be so surprised. Starscream might have had his bad sides, but even you can't deny that he always told the world exactly what he thought. Consequences and other opinions be damned."
Bumblebee shook his head amused. "That I can't deny. I'll never forget when he screamed at this one representative from Polyhex that his science project was utter slag and then proceeded to take it apart in front of the whole Council for five entire joors."
That had been indeed a sight and something Optimus enjoyed very much. "It had the desired effect that every single project the following vorn was more than reasonable."
Bumblebee allowed himself a smile. "It wasn't as if one found anyone willing to present a project that wasn't up to Starscream's high standards. But why are you missing our deactivated Emperor now?"
"Lord High Protector, please. He never held the title Emperor."
Bumblebee shoved the argument away with a wave of his servo. "But he had the power of one. So why?"
It was a good questions. In the Great War, Optimus had despised Starscream, the second in command of the Decepticons, a backstabbing screeching coward if there ever was one. He hadn't understood how anyone could follow him willingly. In the vorns after the Great War when they were forced to work together that had slowly changed, until he had grown to respect the flying menace. Had grown to like the spark that never backed down, always demanded perfection and tried - in his own way - to do the best for Cybertron.
"Bumblebee, could you imagine Starscream sitting here silently, while Prowl and Jazz are tried? I can't. He would scream his opinion out for everyone to be heard."
"I can assure you, that some bots and seekers are doing exactly that," answered Bumblebee with a wry smile. "My audios are still ringing from the statement of the senator of Vos."
"Yes, but not only that. He would also search for the truth, demand..." Optimus stopped and breathed for a moment. "He would act." And not be like him and sit around despairing, drowning in self-pity, while watching his friends being trialed.
"Optimus..." said Bumblebee softly. "He was a dictator."
"Yes." A shuddering body in his hands, warm energon spilling on his arms, optics laughing at his shock and disbelief. "A dictator and Decepticon that died to protect me from an assassin."
No one had expected it. Certainly the assassin in the crowd, blaster aimed at Optimus, didn't expect Starscream throwing himself before the Prime. Starscream had died in Optimus' arms, smiling, his last words an answer to Optimus' desperate whispered question of 'Why': "I'm your Lord High... Protector... fool..."
It was that moment that broke down the looming gap between Autobots and Decepticons once and for all. The changing moment when the peace became more than a temporary truce, and the new normality. It also was the moment when Starscream became a hero and finally managed to overshadow Megatron.
Starscream never had he shown brighter as in the moment of his death.
Bumblebee looked towards the picture of Earth on the wall, no doubt remembering the same scene. The same stunned moment, when everything changed.
In the ensuing silence, Optimus walked to the window and looked outside. Remembering Starscream, Prowl and Jazz, and them together. Remembering the only time he had felt this deep betrayal towards his two lieutenants before. "Only very few mechs know, Bumblebee, that I never wanted to sign the peace contract," he suddenly found himself saying.
He didn't turn to see the reaction, but the confused "You didn't?" told him all. Nearly all too well could he picture Bumblebee's surprised stiffening, his widening optics.
"I didn't," he confirmed without looking back. "We were on Earth and the war continued, until suddenly one orn Prowl and Jazz entered my office and put a datapad on my desk. They told me to read it. I did and was furious. It was the truce. I said that I would never sign a truce that required the Autobots to surrender and banned them from my office."
"I remember. Everyone wondered what they had done to make you that angry."
Optimus smiled grimly. "Now you know. At the beginning of the next orn they came back, and told me that the truce is the only chance for peace. On the fifth orn I asked them what they expected Megatron to do, to agree and suddenly become a fair Lord High Protector?" Even now he felt the cold realisation weighing on his spark for what came after. "They looked at each other, then at me and said that the truce was already signed. By them and Starscream."
A thump. Bumblebee had jumped up. "But - they ..."
"It was within their rights,"Optimus gently interrupted him. "They were allowed to sign contracts with the second and third in command of the other army, in this case Starscream and Shockwave."
Bumblebee walked up next to him, his hand brushing Optimus' left arm, then he looked outside as well. "I always thought that the truce came after Starscream and Shockwave killed Megatron."
It was was not only Bumblebee who had been told this, but every bot on Cybertron that hadn't been directly involved.
"No. They worked together because of the truce." Optimus sighed. "But I was so angry that they went behind my back, I tried to throw them out of my office. Instead, they gave me two lists."
"Typical Prowl," chuckled Bumblebee.
"Yes," agreed Optimus with a short burst of amusement. Prowl had always provided lists that rarely anyone of them had read. But Optimus had always kept them, until his office had looked cluttered and Prowl had given him disappointed glances while Jazz had grinned from behind his mate's back. "These lists, though, didn't just have numbers, but designations and probabilities... " He stopped. Still, he had trouble remembering that painful moment when he realised that it was over. That it all was over.
Bumblebee looked up at him, confusion and concern in his gentle blue optics. He truly was a good bot to the spark down. "Who would have died, if the war had continued?"
"Everyone," whispered Optimus quietly. The word weighed heavily between them, its dimensions nearly too big to grasp. He looked down at the seeker statue, wondering distractedly if Prowl and Jazz ever would get their own statues. They deserved it. Maybe. "That was the first list. It was a prediction that if the war continued, our race would exterminate itself."
The senator's optics brightened for a moment. "There had always been fatalistic rumours..."
"But this was proof. We were approaching the point of no return."
Bumblebee nodded, optics paling a bit. "And the other list?" he asked then.
"It was a list of who would die, if I refused and they acted anyway," explained Optimus. And if possible, this list had been an even more painful realisation.
"Wouldn't the war have continued on?" Bumblebee frowned. "Without your agreement the treaty would've been void, right?"
"Only if I had publically disagreed." He sighed, touching the cold window glass. It was soothing, but his memories still remained as raw as the centuries before. He remembered his shaking hands that held the data pad. His officers and friends in front of him, waiting with cold, determined optics. The moment that had put his own life into perspective. "But Prowl and Jazz never intended to give me any chance to do this. Had I disagreed in that breem in my office, I wouldn't have left it alive."
Bumblee gasped, freezing in complete surprise. "No..." he whispered. "You're Prime..."
"Which was probably the only reason they asked me at all." His optics darkened, still caught in the memory. "But Primes are ultimately replaceable, and they understood this. Even if I had forgotten this, Megatron was murdered only two orns later. I doubt that he ever was asked."
His friend said nothing for a long time. Optimus was glad for it, as it gave him the time to put his memories to rest again. Also, it meant that Bumblebee was thinking carefully, a trait that had appeared only in the last centuries as a senator. It made the minibot quieter, wiser and less rash to act. He had matured, and Optimus was satisfied to see him still maturing ever more. Some day in the future, this yellow bot might be one of the steady voices of justice and reason that led their race. Not yet. But he could see the potential.
Finally, the yellow bot straightened. "Did you agree because they threatened your life?"
There was something brittle about the question, as if something had been deeply shaken. It was the belief in an unfailing Prime. But for Bumblebee's growth to continue, that was necessary.
"No," he could answer truthfully, thankful for that small mercy. "What let me agree was the realisation that I was their friend, and they were mine. It would pain them to kill me and yet they were prepared to do it anyway. Because they saw no other chance to save us all."
Bumblebee's optics darkened in understanding. "It must have been difficult for them... And after realising this, you agreed?" Optimus nodded. "You trusted their assessment above your own. Couldn't you have agreed in the office and then publically told the opposite?"
He laughed softly, remembering the wild moment of him considering the same. "Yes, of course. But what would've happened then? I was not entirely blind, Bumblebee. There were many mechs who would've followed them out of loyalty and the promise of peace. It would've led to an internal war in which nearly all of the experts for security and assassination would've been on their side..." He smiled sharply. "Leaving me with brave, good-sparked, but foolish soldiers. I would've probably still died the orn after. And by the time a new Prime was chosen, while he would've had the loyalty of the troops needed to oppose them, it would've been too late."
Bumblebee sighed. "You were out of options."
"And out of arguments, besides my own hate for kneeling before Starscream," confessed Optimus softly, again looking down at the statue of the seeker. "They were right to force my hand in this matter. My pride was a good sacrifice for all of this."
For this glowing new Age of peace and prosperity.
Bumblebee touched his hand and smiled. "For all that it is worth, Optimus, I'm glad that the war is over." He stopped for a second, also looking down at the seeker that had given them so much grief once. "Thank you, for agreeing."
"Knowing what I know now, I would always agree to it again within a spark beat." He stopped for a moment and added: "Even now, I would always trust them again."
Bumblebee lowered his head. "Not only you."
They talked about many other, lighter things in the following joor. Not once did they mention Prowl, Jazz or the war. They were too painful subjects for now. But when Bumblebee rose, ready to go, he looked into the optics of his Prime once again and said:
"They led us through war and to peace. Maybe we should trust them in this as well."
"Maybe," answered the Prime with a sigh. He wished he could see them again, just one more time.
~~~
Next Chapter: We return to the present, and Judge Tyrest will tell is tale about the past and why this trial is more than just about crimes. ^-^
Universe: Till all are one
Beta: Starfire201
Continuation: AU, G1
Genre: Adventure, drama
Characters: Bumblebee, Optimus Prime; Prowl, Jazz and Starscream are mentioned
Summary: Optimus remembered his shaking hands that held the data pad. His officers and friends in front of him, waiting with cold, determined optics. The moment that had put his own life into perspective. "But Prowl and Jazz never intended to give me any chance to do this. Had I disagreed in that breem in my office, I wouldn't have left it alive."
6. Optimus Prime
Guilt tore at Optimus' spark as he watched Rook and Blaster's newcast about the trial for the fifth orn in a row. Just like most of his people he wasn't able to look away, to miss even one second of it. It still seemed so unbelievable, impossible. How had he overlooked this? And Primus above, had they done these crimes in his name?
He couldn't count anymore how often lawyers or Enforcers had called him to confirm some data, to prove that they had or hadn't been somewhere. But never as a true witness. He had never seen them do something suspicious. They were good like that.
As the Prime, he would have been allowed to watch the trial live in the Hall of Justice anyway. He had considered it briefly, but the order to Ironhide to arrest them alone had hurt so much that the thought of attending seemed to be agony in itself. In fact, he noticed most Autobots seemed to have this problem, even those called on as witnesses. They entered the hall if they had to, and left in a hurry again.
The only exception was Blaster, who provided interesting insights and neutral, friendly commentary - a fact for which Optimus was very thankful. Somehow Blaster's interpretation made it all more bearable.
But not better.
Nothing could make this kind of betrayal better.
He checked his chronometer, then looked at the screen again. It was just a repeat of last orn's trial, now followed by a five orn break so that both sides could prepare and adjust their statements. Not that Prowl and Jazz's defense seemed to need adjustment, seeing as so far it was non-existent. Their young lawyer, Sunflare, was often very obviously frustrated, even as he did all the bureaucracy and gestures a lawyer was required to do. It was the only thing that brought a smile to Optimus' lips while watching the newscast.
The apartment door pinged, and with relief he ended the programme.
"Please come in, Bumblebee."
The younger mech stepped inside the living room. As one of the rare regular guests, he didn't give the small windows stretching from floor to the ceiling or the big painting of an organic world any glances. Two staircases led away into the area reserved for those closest to Optimus' spark, Elita-One, Ironhide, Magnus... Prowl and Jazz.
Quietly, Optimus contemplated that Bumblebee had earned that kind of trust as well, but so far no opportunity had arisen, and the last orns had shaken his world too much to offer it now.
"Hello, Optimus," greeted Bumblebee, none of the usual smiles gracing his face. "How are you?"
The concern was plain on the minibot's face. The automatic answer laid on Optimus' glossa, but it fell to ash as he realised that it would be nothing but a lie. Bumblebee deserved better. "I'll live. And you? It can't be easy to discuss it all with the United Council..."
The yellow bot's optics dimmed. "It isn't. Most are blaming Autobots, regardless of their own faction during the Great War. Some even want to take advantage of the situation..."
"Of course," muttered Optimus with distaste, drawing a slight smile out of Bumblebee. Even though the yellow bot had chosen a career in politics and become the senator of Iacon, he still didn't like the backstabbing and manoveuring in the back rooms. "Please tell me more. But first, take a seat and can I bring you anything?" His poor friend looked far too tired for this time of orn. Had he recharged at all?
"Mid-grade would be fantastic. The Council meeting was far longer than I expected." He sat down on the couch and watched as Optimus mixed the energon.
"Will they call upon me?" asked his former Autobot leader, worried.
As Prime he normally didn't concern himself with the ornly politics of the Council, something he was very thankful for. But important things, changes in their laws, big decisions, all these had to be brought before him for confirmation.
"I think not." Bumblebee took the energon cube with a smile. "It's mainly posturing. Jockeying for more power, influence and so on. But the first are already noticing that it's not working. The normal mechs do not want to blame an entire faction for the last war." He looked into the cube, and said quieter: "I think they do not even want to blame Prowl or Jazz. They are just asking why."
Which was the best they could expect under these circumstances. Thousands of mechs were already convinced that Prowl and Jazz victims of an corrupted system, while others were just as sure that they themselves were the corruption. Every time a verdict was spoken, the news channels also reported about demonstrations and small riots. Yet so far there had been no deactivations. Most citizens were still waiting and watching, creating an atmosphere ready to explode at the smallest infraction that would prove one side right.
Optimus took a seat across from the yellow bot, a cube in both servos. "Aren't we all asking that? I know that I am." Pain seared in his spark and for a moment he lost his words.
Bumblebee just nodded, his optics reflecting the same pain. "I as well. It simply doesn't fit. Jazz always has a reason and Prowl, Primus, he plans vorns in advance. What would they gain by those crimes?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all," answered Optimus tonelessly.
"Exactly! And I know that they don't enjoy the pain of others!" yelled Bumblebee. "This makes no sense! And worst of all, they do not defend themselves!"
Optimus reached out with his hand, but then faltered, uncertain if it would be welcomed. "Bumblebee, my friend..."
"It doesn't fit, it all doesn't fit! The Prowl and Jazz I knew would never..." The minibot vented in anger and then slumped against the couch. "I just don't understand." The words cracked with pain.
"No one does." Optimus looked to his window. "I've spoken with Ironhide, his Enforcers, the lawyers... even with Rung, the psychologist. They all agree that the crimes have happened and that there is always at least one piece of evidence that they have done it, but..."
Bumblebee leaned forward. "But?"
He struggled to find the right words to describe the frustration of those he had talked with. "But they always only find one or two. It disturbs them. Apparently, in an investigation once you've found the culprit and know where to search you find more and more evidence. Normally."
"Not this time, though," concluded the yellow senator and frowned. "I've already heard that the charges in many cases look thin. Mechs on the streets whisper they're fabricated. But if they are, why aren't they fighting them?"
"I don't know." Optimus stood and walked to the window, looking down at the gigantic seeker-statue in the plaza. "It's in moments like this I miss Starscream." He looked back in time to see Bumblebee's shocked expression and couldn't help but chuckle: "Don't be so surprised. Starscream might have had his bad sides, but even you can't deny that he always told the world exactly what he thought. Consequences and other opinions be damned."
Bumblebee shook his head amused. "That I can't deny. I'll never forget when he screamed at this one representative from Polyhex that his science project was utter slag and then proceeded to take it apart in front of the whole Council for five entire joors."
That had been indeed a sight and something Optimus enjoyed very much. "It had the desired effect that every single project the following vorn was more than reasonable."
Bumblebee allowed himself a smile. "It wasn't as if one found anyone willing to present a project that wasn't up to Starscream's high standards. But why are you missing our deactivated Emperor now?"
"Lord High Protector, please. He never held the title Emperor."
Bumblebee shoved the argument away with a wave of his servo. "But he had the power of one. So why?"
It was a good questions. In the Great War, Optimus had despised Starscream, the second in command of the Decepticons, a backstabbing screeching coward if there ever was one. He hadn't understood how anyone could follow him willingly. In the vorns after the Great War when they were forced to work together that had slowly changed, until he had grown to respect the flying menace. Had grown to like the spark that never backed down, always demanded perfection and tried - in his own way - to do the best for Cybertron.
"Bumblebee, could you imagine Starscream sitting here silently, while Prowl and Jazz are tried? I can't. He would scream his opinion out for everyone to be heard."
"I can assure you, that some bots and seekers are doing exactly that," answered Bumblebee with a wry smile. "My audios are still ringing from the statement of the senator of Vos."
"Yes, but not only that. He would also search for the truth, demand..." Optimus stopped and breathed for a moment. "He would act." And not be like him and sit around despairing, drowning in self-pity, while watching his friends being trialed.
"Optimus..." said Bumblebee softly. "He was a dictator."
"Yes." A shuddering body in his hands, warm energon spilling on his arms, optics laughing at his shock and disbelief. "A dictator and Decepticon that died to protect me from an assassin."
No one had expected it. Certainly the assassin in the crowd, blaster aimed at Optimus, didn't expect Starscream throwing himself before the Prime. Starscream had died in Optimus' arms, smiling, his last words an answer to Optimus' desperate whispered question of 'Why': "I'm your Lord High... Protector... fool..."
It was that moment that broke down the looming gap between Autobots and Decepticons once and for all. The changing moment when the peace became more than a temporary truce, and the new normality. It also was the moment when Starscream became a hero and finally managed to overshadow Megatron.
Starscream never had he shown brighter as in the moment of his death.
Bumblebee looked towards the picture of Earth on the wall, no doubt remembering the same scene. The same stunned moment, when everything changed.
In the ensuing silence, Optimus walked to the window and looked outside. Remembering Starscream, Prowl and Jazz, and them together. Remembering the only time he had felt this deep betrayal towards his two lieutenants before. "Only very few mechs know, Bumblebee, that I never wanted to sign the peace contract," he suddenly found himself saying.
He didn't turn to see the reaction, but the confused "You didn't?" told him all. Nearly all too well could he picture Bumblebee's surprised stiffening, his widening optics.
"I didn't," he confirmed without looking back. "We were on Earth and the war continued, until suddenly one orn Prowl and Jazz entered my office and put a datapad on my desk. They told me to read it. I did and was furious. It was the truce. I said that I would never sign a truce that required the Autobots to surrender and banned them from my office."
"I remember. Everyone wondered what they had done to make you that angry."
Optimus smiled grimly. "Now you know. At the beginning of the next orn they came back, and told me that the truce is the only chance for peace. On the fifth orn I asked them what they expected Megatron to do, to agree and suddenly become a fair Lord High Protector?" Even now he felt the cold realisation weighing on his spark for what came after. "They looked at each other, then at me and said that the truce was already signed. By them and Starscream."
A thump. Bumblebee had jumped up. "But - they ..."
"It was within their rights,"Optimus gently interrupted him. "They were allowed to sign contracts with the second and third in command of the other army, in this case Starscream and Shockwave."
Bumblebee walked up next to him, his hand brushing Optimus' left arm, then he looked outside as well. "I always thought that the truce came after Starscream and Shockwave killed Megatron."
It was was not only Bumblebee who had been told this, but every bot on Cybertron that hadn't been directly involved.
"No. They worked together because of the truce." Optimus sighed. "But I was so angry that they went behind my back, I tried to throw them out of my office. Instead, they gave me two lists."
"Typical Prowl," chuckled Bumblebee.
"Yes," agreed Optimus with a short burst of amusement. Prowl had always provided lists that rarely anyone of them had read. But Optimus had always kept them, until his office had looked cluttered and Prowl had given him disappointed glances while Jazz had grinned from behind his mate's back. "These lists, though, didn't just have numbers, but designations and probabilities... " He stopped. Still, he had trouble remembering that painful moment when he realised that it was over. That it all was over.
Bumblebee looked up at him, confusion and concern in his gentle blue optics. He truly was a good bot to the spark down. "Who would have died, if the war had continued?"
"Everyone," whispered Optimus quietly. The word weighed heavily between them, its dimensions nearly too big to grasp. He looked down at the seeker statue, wondering distractedly if Prowl and Jazz ever would get their own statues. They deserved it. Maybe. "That was the first list. It was a prediction that if the war continued, our race would exterminate itself."
The senator's optics brightened for a moment. "There had always been fatalistic rumours..."
"But this was proof. We were approaching the point of no return."
Bumblebee nodded, optics paling a bit. "And the other list?" he asked then.
"It was a list of who would die, if I refused and they acted anyway," explained Optimus. And if possible, this list had been an even more painful realisation.
"Wouldn't the war have continued on?" Bumblebee frowned. "Without your agreement the treaty would've been void, right?"
"Only if I had publically disagreed." He sighed, touching the cold window glass. It was soothing, but his memories still remained as raw as the centuries before. He remembered his shaking hands that held the data pad. His officers and friends in front of him, waiting with cold, determined optics. The moment that had put his own life into perspective. "But Prowl and Jazz never intended to give me any chance to do this. Had I disagreed in that breem in my office, I wouldn't have left it alive."
Bumblee gasped, freezing in complete surprise. "No..." he whispered. "You're Prime..."
"Which was probably the only reason they asked me at all." His optics darkened, still caught in the memory. "But Primes are ultimately replaceable, and they understood this. Even if I had forgotten this, Megatron was murdered only two orns later. I doubt that he ever was asked."
His friend said nothing for a long time. Optimus was glad for it, as it gave him the time to put his memories to rest again. Also, it meant that Bumblebee was thinking carefully, a trait that had appeared only in the last centuries as a senator. It made the minibot quieter, wiser and less rash to act. He had matured, and Optimus was satisfied to see him still maturing ever more. Some day in the future, this yellow bot might be one of the steady voices of justice and reason that led their race. Not yet. But he could see the potential.
Finally, the yellow bot straightened. "Did you agree because they threatened your life?"
There was something brittle about the question, as if something had been deeply shaken. It was the belief in an unfailing Prime. But for Bumblebee's growth to continue, that was necessary.
"No," he could answer truthfully, thankful for that small mercy. "What let me agree was the realisation that I was their friend, and they were mine. It would pain them to kill me and yet they were prepared to do it anyway. Because they saw no other chance to save us all."
Bumblebee's optics darkened in understanding. "It must have been difficult for them... And after realising this, you agreed?" Optimus nodded. "You trusted their assessment above your own. Couldn't you have agreed in the office and then publically told the opposite?"
He laughed softly, remembering the wild moment of him considering the same. "Yes, of course. But what would've happened then? I was not entirely blind, Bumblebee. There were many mechs who would've followed them out of loyalty and the promise of peace. It would've led to an internal war in which nearly all of the experts for security and assassination would've been on their side..." He smiled sharply. "Leaving me with brave, good-sparked, but foolish soldiers. I would've probably still died the orn after. And by the time a new Prime was chosen, while he would've had the loyalty of the troops needed to oppose them, it would've been too late."
Bumblebee sighed. "You were out of options."
"And out of arguments, besides my own hate for kneeling before Starscream," confessed Optimus softly, again looking down at the statue of the seeker. "They were right to force my hand in this matter. My pride was a good sacrifice for all of this."
For this glowing new Age of peace and prosperity.
Bumblebee touched his hand and smiled. "For all that it is worth, Optimus, I'm glad that the war is over." He stopped for a second, also looking down at the seeker that had given them so much grief once. "Thank you, for agreeing."
"Knowing what I know now, I would always agree to it again within a spark beat." He stopped for a moment and added: "Even now, I would always trust them again."
Bumblebee lowered his head. "Not only you."
They talked about many other, lighter things in the following joor. Not once did they mention Prowl, Jazz or the war. They were too painful subjects for now. But when Bumblebee rose, ready to go, he looked into the optics of his Prime once again and said:
"They led us through war and to peace. Maybe we should trust them in this as well."
"Maybe," answered the Prime with a sigh. He wished he could see them again, just one more time.
~~~
Next Chapter: We return to the present, and Judge Tyrest will tell is tale about the past and why this trial is more than just about crimes. ^-^