[Fic] Story of a Lifetime, part 17.4
Part 17 - Time passes (when you're having fun)
Chapter 4 of 4
Optimus drove along the near-empty highway, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun on his panelling.
His meeting with the World Leaders had gone very well and the Autobots now officially had diplomatic status in all but sixteen of Earth's nations. It helped that the Decepticons had finally departed entirely, escaping through the space bridge back to Cybertron. The Earth end of the bridge was constantly guarded and was now sealed within a secure dome shield so that even if it were used, any travellers would be contained.
Perceptor and Skyfire were making great progress in learning to understand and control the technology behind what had always been a Decepticon advantage, and assured him that they would soon be able to replicate it. Soon being in Cybertronian terms, of course, rather than Earth ones; something which would no doubt disappoint their human allies but which was impressively fast in relation to previous estimates. No more than three vorns, they were sure, and they were working hard to reduce that timeframe even further.
It was interesting how Earth had filled them all with impatience. They had been here less than a quarter of a vorn, and yet so much had been accomplished. New ships constructed and in use, the Decepticons routed, Autobot City near completion, and now a formal alliance made with all of the peoples of Earth to help defend the Sol system.
It was nearly time to start pushing outward again, to resume the fight for Cybertron.
"Strange." he mused.
"Prime?" his companion asked politely.
He turned his attention to the mech driving quietly along behind him. Prowl had been reticent over the last two years, working solidly to achieve their goals but seeming to withdraw even more than usual from any activity not directly work related. He was a mech with many secrets, Optimus had decided vorns ago, but where everyone else had relaxed into the near-civilian life of their existence on Earth Prowl had remained slightly awkward. Never quite at ease.
In spite of Prowl's protests to the contrary, Optimus was sure that some of his unhappiness was caused by Jazz's frequent absences. Once the Decepticons were on the move, Jazz's ops team were back at work keeping track of them and trying to discover their plans. It took nearly two full Earth years for a one way trip to Ovacalix in the first ship Wheeljack had designed. The latest models were considerably more efficient and quicker, but it meant that results from the initial missions had been very slow and since Bumblebee was so important to their relations with the humans, it had been Jazz, Mirage and Hound who had been absent for those trips.
Prowl had kept busy as well he could, but once the Decepticons were truly known to be gone from Earth many of the Ark's inhabitants had scattered to explore and thus were not in need of management. And for someone who thrived on a heavy workload, with no troublemakers to reprimand and no battles to plan for, there had not been enough to do. In the end Prowl had signed up to work for a few years with the Portland Police Department, though he was always careful to ensure he was available if Optimus ever needed him.
Such as on this latest trip, where Prowl's calm demeanour and perfect recall of details had been essential. Prowl had come along willingly where others had groaned and made excuses to get out of the tedious chore. And now the Praxian was waiting patiently for an answer.
Returning his thoughts to the present, Optimus explained his seemingly random comment.
"I was just thinking how strange it is that your original plan actually worked out, if not the way we thought it would. We found a safe haven and we are now in a good position to look again at recovering control of Cybertron."
"It does seem so." Prowl replied placidly.
Optimus waited for awhile but it seemed that Prowl had nothing further to add, so he continued.
"We'll want to retain some sort of presence here on Earth, of course."
"Naturally." Prowl agreed.
"Then we should begin considering who would be best to leave here. I wonder..."
"I have prepared three scenarios which I can present to you when we return to the Ark."
Optimus smiled to himself.
"Of course. You always anticipate me, my friend."
"Some requests are predictable." Prowl responded, a little warmth creeping into his tone. "Once Ultra Magnus arrives with the Cybertron refugees we will be able to move quite quickly. Though I'm sure he will wish to speak with you about your decision to make him City Commander rather than have him join you in the battle for Cybertron."
"I want his unit to have a chance to meet the humans and build relationships with them as we have. Their short lifespans give them a view on existence that we did not have, and which I believe has been key to our change in fortune."
"I agree."
"And besides, he and his unit have been fighting on Cybertron while we've been away. It's time they had a rest, and let us take over for awhile. Are we sure Metroplex will be ready in time?"
"Construction is running to schedule, and should be complete three orns before their arrival." Prowl said confidently.
"Good. And of course Jazz should be back by then, too."
"Jazz never misses a party. If at all possible he will be here in time, of that we can all be sure."
Jazz walked into the near-empty rec room, body freshly clean from the washracks but his thoughts still scattered. There was too much to think about, and he was tired of it. Returning to find the Ark almost devoid of life had not helped his mood, but Prowl was here waiting for him and that was enough.
His mate was now sitting on a couch against a wall, near the large screen that had often showed human tv or video games, but now showed live feed of events a couple of hours drive away courtesy of Blaster. That was where everyone else was, and where he and Prowl should be, but Prowl had insisted that he wash and rest first. Only he did not feel like resting, so here he was back again.
"It's like a little piece o'Cybertron." he murmured, settling into Prowl's lap and looking at the vidscreen's display of the final pieces of the city's construction moving into place. "An' built so fast."
Twelve Earth years, it had taken. The Decepticons had attacked it periodically but never effectively, and had finally given up entirely even before abandoning Earth. They had their own problems, anyway: most of them were starving, and Megatron appeared to become less stable by the orn. It could not continue in this way.
Why was he doing it, Jazz wondered again in frustration. There were endless options for energy sources on Earth. It would have taken very little effort for the Decepticons to remain as healthy as their Autobot counterparts just by soaking up the ambient solar radiation. But instead Megatron had kept them confined deep under the ocean surface and had pushed always for large targets. More often than not the plans failed, and when they succeeded he immediately sent all of their hard-earned energon away, back to Cybertron.
Why?
"You're thinking of the Decepticons again." Prowl guessed, kissing the side of his neck.
"They can't keep this up."
"They are actually our enemies." Prowl reminded him gently, running hands down his sides.
"I ain't forgot that, believe me, but I still don't like watchin' live mechs goin' grey round the edges for no reason at all. Why won't Megatron just get ol' Shocky t' start up one o'the old refineries again an' get'em fed?"
"If we could understand his motivations, perhaps this would all have been over centuries ago." Prowl sighed, leaning his chin on Jazz's shoulder and nuzzling him gently. "You're not in the mood for this tonight, are you?"
"Oh. Sorry, babe. I'm just kinda distracted."
"So I've noticed. You know, there's no actual need for us to do this now. The Ark will still be here after we move in to Autobot City. It might be nice to come back now and again anyway."
"No." Jazz decided, turning around to straddle Prowl's lap. "I'm here. I wanna be here."
"Well that's a relief." Prowl smiled. "I wouldn't want to be a bother."
"How'd you swing this anyway?" Jazz asked curiously. "Aren't we s'posed t'be at the completion ceremony with everyone else?"
"We'll be there. The ceremonies don't start until the final switch is thrown, and I have it on good authority that that will not be happening until two hours past dawn."
"So late? They're all going to be hanging round for nothing all that time? Why?"
"Well," Prowl mused, leaning back against the wall and splaying his doorwings to stabilise himself, not so incidentally also focusing Jazz's attention, "it seems they're going to have some technical difficulties."
"Oh really?" Jazz asked, running his hands along the base of the two doors, smiling as they vibrated in his hands. "And just what did you have to pay to have those technical difficulties planned?"
"Nothing at all. It was payment for the nine separate occasions when I caught certain mechs doing things they shouldn't in public areas where the humans might have seen them. Given the alternative, they were more than happy to assist."
"Do I even wanna know?" Jazz laughed.
"I doubt it. They certainly didn't."
"Y'know, mech, the problem with you is that when you do finally relax, you've got one wicked sense o'humour."
"Ah, well if so it's because I learned from the very best."
Optimus watched the two black and white mechs transform in the early morning sunlight, Jazz jogging over to him as Prowl went to speak to Wheeljack.
"Did we miss anythin' boss?" Jazz asked.
"As it happens, no."
"Well that's a relief!"
"You're only just back from your mission now?"
"Nah, not exactly. I was a bit messy when I got back, an' Prowl insisted I clean m'self up an' get some charge before we came over. He did my debrief an' I got my report done - you want it now?"
"He wasn't concerned that you may be missing the ceremony?"
"Don't think so. He's had the vidscreen set to show what's goin' on an' Blaster promised to call in when you were startin', anyway." He paused. "Musta been a fairly tedious night if you've all been standin' around doin' nothin' all this time."
"Worse for the humans than for us." Optimus allowed. "But I suppose..."
"Finally!" Blaster exclaimed loudly, then activated his speakers. "Okay! Mechs, femmes, ladies, gents, boys, girls, an' anyone or thing who's out there listenin', we're finally ready t'get started."
"Cool." Jazz nodded.
"Your timing is remarkable." Optimus said drily, certain now that it had all been set up by one or both of his late-arriving senior staff.
"Hey," Jazz chuckled, striking a pose, "the Jazz-man's timin's always been good. An' I'm never too late for a party, ain't that right Blaster?"
"No doubt, Jazz."
"Then lets get this party started."
Epilogue - six weeks later
The human media could not get enough of it.
The shots of a real Cybertronian spaceship coming in to land on the wide plain in front of the recently built Autobot City were played over and over for months. Every moment of the arrival was analysed, every disembarking Cybertronian scrutinised, every one of the very few audible exchanges in the alien language interpreted and reinterpreted - mostly incorrectly, since no official translation was ever given.
Within minutes all of the new arrivals were speaking English. Greetings were made; some formal, others more friendly. The strangest of all though, everyone agreed, was a cryptic and heated exclamation from the newly arrived Springer to the very well known and respected Prowl.
It certainly got several of the the Cybertronians laughing - the generally surly Red Alert was practically in hysterics - so most people assumed it was the punchline to some joke. If so, no-one ever gave them the first part but it became a favourite piece of trivia, often quoted by those who considered themselves dedicated fans of the Autobots.
"What do you mean you've lost the override code!"
End of Part 17.