It's been a few weeks, I know. I have plot bunnies piling up around me, but I'm battling with new characters and they've proven to be highly uncooperative. Writer's block is too mild a word for it. I'm staring at something I have no clue how to continue.

Something broke through this weekend, though... Something different. The fic below. *shrugs* And for now 'Off the Beaten Track' since it's still only unofficially part of my 'verse. The idea of including it officially is growing on me, though.

Have fun reading!


TITLE: Out of the Bag,
Based on Confidential
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation – Off the Beaten Track
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
FEEDBACK: Loved




He didn’t know when shit had hit the fan, but it had and he was off and running for his life. Legs pumping, heart racing, his mind scanning for enemy approach, Sam Witwicky cursed the moment he had had the stupid idea to come along on this recon mission. He should have stayed home, in his lab, with his project, instead of traipsing around unknown landscapes and hot deserts. Sure, it was Earth. Sure, it was a continent he had read and heard about in classes, on the news, in the papers. Sure, it was nothing but sand and trees and wildlife – and deadly robots out to kill him.

And his guardian was nowhere within reach.

His partner was stuck somewhere, hopefully still functional, and he, Sam, was on his own.

His day could really have been better.

Something exploded to his right and he dove for cover, sand scraping his skin raw, getting in his clothes, his eyes, and probably into places he really had no time pondering right now.

The ground moved and he caught the eddies of a simplistic mind, a drone, one who followed orders without second thought. A lot less than a symbiote, a whole lot less than the very advanced Cybertronian minds he had so often touched before, but still a damn lot more complicated and advanced than the run-of-the-mill Cray computer.

Still, it was so primitive that Sam didn’t get the right connection to open the subspace link and call his armor.

Yeah, hell of a day.

He got up again and was running once more.

He didn’t get very far.

Sliding to a halt wide eyes took in the abyss before him, a huge canyon that looked like a raw open wound within the desert. It was really deep. Grand Canyon deep, for all Sam cared.

He wiped sweat out of his eyes.

End of the road.

::Bumblebee!:: he screamed across the empty planes of his mind.

There was no reply.

He was on his own.

At the end of his road.

Dead in the water… desert… whatever.

For once Sam wished he had Tony Stark’s Extremis inside him. At least it would let him uplink to satellites. His mind was too limited for that; he wouldn’t reach anything out here.

The ground shook and the drone burst through, the optics glittering almost maliciously. Sam knew it would take too long to deactivate the mech, that his terrified mind, his exhausted body, didn’t allow him the luxury of time.

There was a scream overheard, of engines reversing thrust and breaking. The drone was momentarily distracted and Sam started to run once more, along the rim of the canyon, away… just away.

A huge shadow passed over him and he briefly glanced into the sky, cold fear settling in. The ground was shaking again and he knew he was trapped when the drone tunneled under him.

He moved aside.

His foot caught… nothing.

The world tilted.

Sam screamed in terror as he slid off the rim.

Above him something exploded, followed by screeches of anger and disbelief. Sand and rock and debris showered over him and he slid more, hitting a ledge… which broke.

He was in free fall.

Sam didn’t have moments of his life flash before his eyes. He didn’t feel anything but the sheer horror of the moment.

Something grabbed him hard, winding him, driving all the air out of his lungs. Stunned, gasping, trying to catch a thought, he could only lay there. His mind caught chitters, unknown, alien, but Cybertronian. No one he had ever met before.

Fingers curled around his battered body, raising him. He caught glimpses of gray and silver and black and washed-out browns.

The world shifted greatly and he was dumped into what seemed to be a cockpit, then acceleration pushed him into a hard seat and through a transparent canopy he saw the sky, clouds racing toward and then past him as the flyer broke through the flimsy white. Higher and higher, toward the outer limits of the atmosphere, then suddenly diving.

Sam felt his stomach lurch, but he had no energy left to be sick. He braced himself weakly and was barely surprised that he had been restrained to the seat, though it was a normal harness and not a trapping net.

The flyer moved erratically and Sam caught something following him … shooting at them!

He gasped as the flyer did an outrageous move and the missile flew past, then was destroyed by a well-placed shot. The flyer turned sharply, the force pushing Sam into the side of the cockpit, then met the enemy head-on. It was a Cybertronian jet.

For the whole ten seconds Sam saw it.

Then it went down in flames and exploding parts as the one Sam was currently in shot it to pieces.

Without a second’s hesitation, the flyer shot off again, leaving the damaged mech, the Decepticon, to crash and burn.

The sky raced past at an impossible speed and they were skimming along the atmosphere, Sam feeling dizzy and tired and exhausted, and still so very scared. His mind tried to catch anything from his rescuer, but he couldn’t hold a thought together. Finally he pushed himself past that, collected his frazzled nerves, and tried for contact.

It had him recoil in terror.

And he struck at the other mind.

The jet dipped hard, like hitting an airhole, and Sam felt his stomach meet his mouth. His flight banked hard to the right, rolling, and he gasped, feeling the fear rise. He struck again and again the plane sank like a stone in water, only to catch itself once more.

“Stop it!” a hard, cold voice sliced through the cockpit.

“Let me go!” he blurted.

There was a moment of silence, then a nasty chuckle. “Do you know where you are, Prime? Do you? Really? Because if you do and still make the demand to be free, you are suicidal.”

The jet rolled again, staying on its back, and Sam saw nothing but clouds below.

He swallowed hard.

“Land,” he whispered.

“Not yet.”

::Land!::

The command was the most powerful he could manage and it was a weak whimper compared to his normal mind-strength.

The jet shuddered a little and rolled back onto its belly, but it didn’t land.

Sam closed his eyes, breathing hard, hands pressed against the cockpit walls.

“What do you want?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

The silence continued.

“What. Do. You. Want?!”

Still no answer. The jet started to descend, though. They broke through clouds and suddenly there was land underneath.

Harsh, red desert land.

Sam desperately tried to grab a hold of the steel ball of a mind that resided within the mech’s body, but he was way too weak by now. In pain, exhausted, frightened, and weak.

For all he had trained, he had lost it this time and failed. Epic fail.

“Hold on.”

The human gave a cry of surprise as the jet shifted around him and the harness gave way, flinging him out of the cockpit, only to be handled by sharp-edged claws and kept from falling to the ground that was about fifty feet below him. There was a plume of dust and sand, then he felt the soft tremor of the mech touching down.

The fifty feet had declined to maybe twenty-three. The hands were still holding him, but not crushing him or pinning him down.

He looked up and met red optics in an alien face. Nothing about this mech was familiar; he didn’t look at all like the last time he had seen him. Aside from the red optics, there was nothing that told Sam about who he was. No sigil.

But he knew. He had briefly touched the mind.

The flyer lowered him to the ground and he stumbled, fell, tried to get up, and finally his body just stayed down. Sitting in the sand, trembling, feeling bruised and achy and so very much at the end of his rope, he could only stare at the mech.

The flyer knelt down, gazing at him with a smirk.

“Speechless, Prime?”

“W-why?” Sam didn’t even want to ponder why this one knew that he was a Prime.

“Because you’re of no use dead.”

“Of no use to you?”

“To your world, human!” he growled.

“But you’re…”

The unknown face tilted and the smile was downright nasty.

“You’re the enemy! You’re Starscream!”

“Oh, you’re so wrong, human. And so right.” Starscream looked around, apparently scanning. “We lost him, but he’ll be back. Sometimes your kind is even more stupid than the Autobots. You never considered it was a trap.”

“We did!” he snarled, anger giving him strength.

They had taken all precaution necessary, but in the end they had still been surprised.

Starscream sneered.

Sam wet his lips, aware that he was currently in no position to antagonize his ‘rescuer’, but he wouldn’t just sit here and wait for whatever Starscream had planned. He collected what power he had left and launched a spike at the mind he had already briefly brushed over once.

Starscream rocked back, catching himself with one hand on the ground, and his red optics flared. Sam scrambled back, kicking up sand, aware that even if he could run, he wouldn’t get far – unless he could incapacitate the Decepticon flyer.

He launched another lance into the enemy mind, but instead of felling the former second-in-command of Megatron, he only had him bend over, hissing. Sam was directly underneath the new face, the less scary face part of him pointed out, then everything simply went black in a flash of pain.

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He woke to the cool, semi-dark silence of desert nightfall. Lying on the ground, the sand still warm enough, he listened to the sound of insects. His mind was like slush, moving lazily, cataloguing his condition.

Aching. Bruised. Tired. Thirsty. Slightly sick. Headache creeping up his spine.

Starscream.

He tried to concentrate on that thought and the fear of before wormed into his daze.

Starscream.

Like on automatic he checked his surroundings.

There was a presence, but it was warm and familiar and strong and… not an anchor. But it was friendly. Very friendly.

Sam cracked his eyes open and found them crusted with sand. He raised a sluggish hand and ineffectively wiped at the sand, spreading more over his face.

Blue optics regarded him, the large form next to him a blur in the falling night.

He reached out again, like a drowning person, and while this wasn’t his anchor, one of them anyway, he was carefully welcomed.

“Take it easy, Sam,” the deep voice rumbled.

A large hand helped him as he struggled to sit and he leaned against cool, alien metal.

“Where’s…” he coughed. “Starscream?”

“He left,” Optimus Prime answered calmly.

“L-left? And how did you get… here?” He looked around, unable to tell where exactly ‘here’ is.

“We’re in the Gibson Desert of Western Australia, near Lake Mackay.”

“Huh.”

Sam suddenly discovered two large bottles of water next to him and grabbed one greedily, nearly choking. Optimus touched him carefully.

“Slow down, Sam. You’re safe.”

“How did you get here?” he coughed, wiping water from his dripping chin.

The ancient optics gazed silently at him. “I was called,” Optimus finally said.

Not by him, Sam thought. He hadn’t been able to connect to any mech, least of all Bumblebee.

Bumblebee!

“He’s fine,” Optimus interrupted his surge of terror. The Autobot leader smiled at his confusion. “You… leak.”

“Uhm…”

“I don’t mind the anchor, Sam. It is what you need right now.”

It was still damn embarrassing. Toying with the bottle, Sam wondered what was going on. Aside from him being rescued from a lunatic Decepticon… right?

Optimus Prime was in Australia. Sam had been in Africa just this morning, together with a whole team, looking for a signal that had come in. A trap. Set to snare him? He didn’t know. And he had been abducted – and saved? – by Starscream.

“Something’s not right,” he murmured.

He felt echoes from Prime’s mind, something that was at the edge of his perception, like the Autobot wanted him to catch on to it. Like he wanted him to… look?

Something about him was… off. Like he was troubled. Sam found himself attuning his senses to the large Autobot, puzzled, curious, but also careful. He didn’t want to spy, but this was…loud. For a technopath’s senses at least. It was as if Optimus was casting around for someone to hear and react, without even knowing it.

Here, in the desert, alone… probably alone… feeling not really on top of his game, Sam Witwicky was being asked… what? What was going on?

“I knew you wouldn’t take long to pick this up,” Optimus said softly.

“Whatever it is,” Sam replied cautiously, “because I don’t know what it is, just that it’s strong. Purposefully strong.”

Prime nodded. “There is something on my mind,” he said. “It is a matter that I have to make a decision about. I made that decision just now. It was actually almost taken out of my hands to make.”

The human frowned. It sounded ominous and he wasn’t picking up any clues. Normally Prime’s mind was like a steel vault, impenetrable; nothing got out that the Autobot leader didn’t want to. Optimus was one of those mechs that were impossible to accidentally read. He had himself under control.

Now he had allowed Sam to anchor, opening a part of him, allowing contact. It had been intentional. He frowned.

Optimus smiled a little, optics brightening. “Yes, Sam, I wanted you to notice. I was hoping we could have this moment alone before we go back home, before there are too many around.”

“Why?”

“Because I have chosen to share something with you that is of utmost importance. Nothing I show and tell you can leak. I need your promise never to let anyone, not even your bonded, know about this unless the knowledge is sanctioned by me.”

“Which won’t happen?” Sam asked, confused.

Optimus hummed softly. “It is unlikely to happen, Sam.”

“What is this about, Optimus?” he asked. “What secret? And why now? Here?” He gestured at the desert. “Why after I was almost kidnapped or killed?”

Optimus rested his forearms on his pulled-up knees. The blue in his optics dimmed a little, then he finally looked up, a weary, almost tired expression on his features.

“The Allspark chose you, Samuel James Witwicky. It chose you, Tony and Will, it opened my optics to the existence of another Cybertronian heir of the Dynasty. I trust you and you have proven yourself countless times. I trust in you to keep what I tell you to yourself. You are part of the Dynasty of Primes in a way, as are Will and Rodimus and even Tony. It’s the first time I share this knowledge ever since the war.”

Sam felt his confusion multiply. “I’m the first?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because when you were saved from Scourge, it set into motion events…”

Sam blinked, looking up, dwarfed by the massive mech.

“Starscream’s decision to save you means a first step in what I hope will one day lead to a solution. To an impossible situation. Please log onto my mind, Sam,” Optimus told him.

He did, feeling the vault open, the shields drop, and Sam touched the powerful mind of the Autobot leader. Is overwhelming and he nearly stumbled back, but someone caught him gently. Optimus’ touch was balancing, but it also told Sam just what kind of strength resided in this particular spark.

::Prime?::

::Trust me. We are of the same heritage, Noumenon Prime. Trust that connection to lead you. Don’t be afraid. I would never harm you::

And with that Sam was walked through what could only be described as a door and into memories that left him speechless.

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Sam didn’t know what to say or do. He just sat on the ground, eyes closed, images playing over and over in his mind. He didn’t doubt that this wasn’t just wishful thinking. This was real, this was authentic.

Starscream wasn’t simply the enemy. He was an Autobot undercover operative who had made it to the top of the Decepticon hacking order. He had been Megatron’s second-in-command and he still commanded a large part of the Decepticon troops.

::That’s why he saved me?::

::That’s why he called me:: Optimus corrected. ::His decision to save your life was his own. I wasn’t aware he was still on Earth::

Sam shivered. ::He knows I’m a Prime::

::Yes::

The technopath mulled that over. ::He knows about all of us?::

::Yes::

::Why won’t he come out of his undercover assignment?::

::Because the war isn’t over yet:: Optimus answered.

Sam finally opened his eyes and looked into the ancient optics. “He’ll shoot at us anyway, right?” he stated.

“Yes.”

Sam remembered the fight at Mission City. Starscream had behaved like all the other attacking Decepticons and he had chased Sam, who had carried the Allspark at the time. Sam shivered a little.

“He won’t kill you, Sam. His actions today proved that.”

“But he wouldn’t stop at hurting humans, including me,” Sam finished.

The silence said it all. Starscream was undercover and he would be unless Soundwave or someone else would actually attempt to kill Lennox or Sam himself. Only death would be prevented, but not injury. Sam had received all the information he needed, all Optimus had. He knew Starscream’s past, his life, his past name, his assignment, and how many times the Autobot leader had faced his ‘enemy’.

Now he had to hide this from Bumblebee, but Sam knew it was possible. He wasn’t automatically broadcasting everything to his partner, which was a relief sometimes. Nothing more embarrassing than transmitting every thought or emotion. Barricade had taught him early on how to box things and put them where Bumblebee couldn’t reach. It was a valuable ability. It insured privacy and now it helped in keeping this from accidental slippage.

“You wanted me to know,” Sam finally said. “Because it might be important…?”

“For the future, yes. You, Tony and Will are equal to myself and Rodimus.”

Sam shifted, reminded of his new heritage. “I’m not a real Prime,” he said softly.

“You are. The title is not singular to Cybertronians.” Optimus smiled softly. “I trust you. Starscream trusts you with his very spark now. What he did required a leap in faith.”

“I know.”

The older Prime regarded him silently. “He called me after he had to knock you out. You were getting too deep, Sam. He told me he regretted it.”

Sam had caught the gist of that while inside Prime’s mind. He had no idea what he might have looked at while he had launched his attack. No memories had remained.

“When we leave now, this has to be locked away. Even when seeing Starscream again, in any other capacity than an ally for the moment, you can’t react differently than before.”

Sam nodded. “I understand.”

“Good.”

Optimus rose and transformed, opening the driver side door. Sam climbed inside, feeling his aches and bruises again. He stored the rest of the water and smiled when he discovered power bars in the glove compartment.

“Thanks.”

“You are welcome. Try to get some rest, Sam. It’ll be a long drive until we meet up with our transport.”

Sam nodded. He leaned back in the seat, watched the darkness outside that was only lit up by Prime’s powerful headlights, and his mind wandered. He wasn’t tired enough to sleep, but exhausted enough that he was unable to think clearly.

He did fall asleep when they were inside the transporter that flew them home. The dull roar of the engines wasn’t enough to keep him awake and Optimus darkened the windows to make it easier to tune out the rest of the world. Mind still firmly within Optimus’s as an anchor, Sam didn’t wake for the next ten hours.

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Bumblebee looked a bit banged up and had a few recently treated damage scars, but as soon as Ratchet applied a new protective coat of coloring he would look like new. Sam had been relieved and happy to see his partner upon his return, and he had only put up a token protest to Ratchet’s order to get checked out. He had trudged to the medical area, suffered through the exam, and finally collapsed in his bed. He had only superficial wounds that would heal on their own.

He slept another six hours and found a message from Lennox to meet him for lunch when he was up.

Sam took a long shower and went to find the other human Prime on base. Bumblebee was a gentle presence in his mind, giving him the necessary stability technopathically, and also the chance to reassure himself that Bumblebee was all right. The mech gave him the space he needed; it wasn’t like they were attached at the hip. They had been partners too long for that.

“Hey, Sam,” Will greeted him and held out a can of Cola to him.

Sam took it and peeked at what was cooking. It looked like roast chicken, which was fine with him. Once settled with food enough to feed a small army, Sam looked at Lennox. The other man shrugged. Runes and glyphs were swimming over his skin, but no more agitated or excited than normally. Lennox seemed calm, collected, except for the fact that the Prime glyph was rather prominent today.

“Optimus briefed me. I can’t say I’m totally shocked.”

Sam stuffed chicken into his mouth and nodded.

“It’ll take a while to settle in completely,” the former Army Ranger went on, “and I’m not sure if Optimus can ever bring him back into his ranks, but it’s less of a shock than other revelations in the past..”

“Yeah,” Sam muttered, spearing fries.

“Ironhide would shoot him on sight, no questions asked, even if he has learned to tolerate Barricade or the Constructicons.” Will leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Damn big secret he’s keeping. Now us, too.”

“Talk about fringe ally,” Sam agreed. “Can’t be more fringe than that. I mean…” He hesitated. “I saw it all, in Prime’s mind. Like I was there.”

“Which is more intense than just hearing it,” Lennox agreed.

“He has killed, Will. He killed former colleagues, crippled and tortured them. I just can’t understand why and then there is the knowledge that Optimus had to do it, that it was his decision and he weighed all the options and he finally agreed t it all. To see him as he was before, to understand that Ratchet did his part and then completely erased his mind of that involvement… There are things sometimes… they show me the limit a human mind has when it comes to Cybertronians.”

Lennox smiled grimly. “There’s undercover and there’s that. He’s in so deep, his only loyalty is to Optimus Prime now. You know, I’ve seen undercover agents come back home, met one of them on base as he was rehabilitated, so to speak, and they were different from before. I can’t see this happening here. He’s under for good. To the end.”

Sam was silent, eating the last fry. Nothing of this would leak to Bumblebee. He was taking care of that. Neither could he ever let Barricade catch a glimpse.

“At least he now shared the burden,” the technopath said softly.

Will nodded. “I don’t feel like a Prime and maybe never will, but I’ll carry my load, whatever it is. If it means lightening a conscience…” he smiled and raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’m game.”

“Rodimus and Tony know?”

“Rodimus yes. He’s chewing on that revelation, too. I think Optimus wants to pay Stark a visit soon. With Roddy.”

And then the five heirs to the Dynasty of Primes would know. It would change nothing for now. They would treat Starscream just like before. The Decepticon wouldn’t change either.

Status quo.

They finished their meals in silence, Sam glancing briefly at the runes now and then. Nothing changed. He felt Bumblebee in the back of his mind, scanning carefully, reassuring himself that his partner was okay, and Sam finally sighed.

Will smirked. “Mother-hen?” he asked.

“You have no idea…”

“Oh, I do. Got one of those, too. I can blow up a mountain and survive Soundwave twice, he still thinks he has to protect me.”

Sam smiled. “Ditto. Just without the mountain and Soundwave…”

Lennox smiled back. He watched a string of runes dance over his hand and glide along his index finger, then disappear.

“Nothing we can do for now. At least Optimus is no longer alone in knowing this.”

“Which makes it a secret harder to keep,” Sam spoke out loud what had been on his mind ever since he had been told.

Will shrugged. “No secret lives forever.”

But hopefully they would be able to keep this one close to forever. Starscream’s life depended on it.

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“We have to stop meeting like this.”

The sarcastic voice floated through the wet fog that clung to the tall trees around them. Optimus smiled a little, aware of how close the situation was to their last meeting. Back then it had been in never-ending rain among the trees of the Pacific Northwest. They were once again in the same location, just today there was fog, no rain. At least not yet.

Starscream looked the same, too. Optimus scanned over the tall form. No damage, no sign of energon levels that were too low.

“So you told them,” the flyer remarked casually.

“You didn’t give me any other choice.”

It got him a snort. “Right. Blame me. I saved the human Prime, nothing more, nothing less. You were the one who told him about me.”

“And I’m very thankful you kept him from harm.”

Starscream shook his head. “Forget it. Happened.”

Optimus studied the other mech, wondering how his undercover agent had fared. Starscream had been there to save Sam, he had rescued the human Prime, and he had called Optimus to their location. The flyer had been gone at the time the Autobot leader had arrived, but Sam had been alive and relatively okay.

“I’m glad it ‘happened’, Starscream. We need Sam.”

The red optics deepened in color, then Starscream straightened, wings pulling in. It made him even more slender. It was also the sign that he wasn’t about to bolt.

“I hope your decision won’t come back to bite me in the aft. Then again, we all knew it would come back one day.” Starscream smiled darkly. “Soundwave has been sighted.”

Optimus knew a change of topics when he heard one. For a moment he wanted to smack Starscream over the head for trying to ignore the massive changes about to come, but he hadn’t been the leader of the Autobots for millennia for nothing. He pushed guilt and compassion aside, tried to ignore the tired fatalism visible in the red optics. Starscream was in too deep, had been in too deep for millennia. Whatever the future would bring, Prime knew that the other would lose. One way or the other.

He nodded at his operative to continue. Starscream transmitted the data. It was a brief burst of encoded and condensed information.

“Skywarp ran into a bunch of his symbiotes,” Starscream added out loud. “Thundercracker is keeping an eye on things.”

“They don’t know about you?”

Starscream sneered. “Of course not. Do you think they would work for me if they did? No, they don’t. They just don’t trust Soundwave. He lost a lot of loyalties after the whole space-bridge debacle. I have theirs now. They don’t ask about my intentions, just follow orders. Keeping track of Soundwave is simply natural. I want to know what he’s up to. Easy.”

Optimus nodded. “Easy,” he repeated softly. “Just be careful.”

“Just like always. I’m still Megatron’s second-in-command, even if he’s permanently off-line. For all the squabbling and pushing and shoving among the leftover ranks, they listen to me.” He grinned nastily. “Keep an optic out for Soundwave. I might not get back to you in a while.”

“Understood.”

Because Prime had been given a glimpse as to what Starscream was working on right now. He wanted the Seekers under his command, had left word that he didn’t plan on sacrificing lives needlessly to get revenge on some foolish Autobots hiding on Earth. He didn’t want to expend precious energon and manpower. He was planning to gather those loyal to him, find a new home, maybe find Cybertron. So far Soundwave’s attempts to do the same had been met with failure.

Cybertron remained lost.

If Starscream managed to unite those tired of the war, those who wanted to spend the rest of their existence as peacefully as was possible, then Optimus saw a slight chance at a truce, a cease-fire. Earth held nothing for the Decepticons. Starscream was spreading those words. The Allspark was gone, Megatron was dead, Earth wasn’t a place for a mechanoid to exist.

“Good luck,” Optimus only said.

Starscream nodded. They would need it.



They parted ways a few minutes later, Starscream silently disappearing in the fog. There was no sound of a jet taking off and Optimus didn’t try to look for him. He transformed and joined the road once more. It would be a long drive back.

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The slender figure, dressed in a skin tight, long-sleeved t-shirt, black jeans, bare-footed, stood out against the white sand of the secluded beach. Water lapped at the exposed toes. Underneath the black material of his shirt something glowed softly. It was an arc reactor, the only permanent reminder of the changes that had happened so many years ago. Not even Extremis had erased this scar, this mark. It was always there, always visible.

Next to the figure was a silver mech, sitting in the sand, watching his human friend. Blue optics regarded the man, waiting, silence hanging between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable; it was something normal, something familiar.

“So…” Tony Stark broke the silence.

“So?”

“Business as usual?”

“It has to be,” Rodimus Prime said. “It has been business as usual for millennia. He is an undercover agent. Has been for longer than I thought was even possible.”

“Sucks.” Tony stuffed his hands into his pockets. “He might not be out to kill us, but he won’t stop kicking us either, hm?”

“That’s about it.”

Stark let his head fall back, gazing into the sky. “Business as usual,” he repeated. “That means you’re back to Nevada tomorrow.”

Rodimus shrugged. “I heard you’re off to Yuma to test something or other with Hook.”

“Yeah.”

“Yuma is nice this time of the year.”

Tony turned his head, looked long and hard at his mech friend, then burst out laughing. “This is the worst line ever, Roddy!”

The Autobot smiled. “How about ‘need a ride?’”

“Your pick-up lines have been better, pal.”

“Want company?”

Tony smiled more. “For a six hour boring ride or a two hour boring flight?”

“Can’t do anything about boring flights, but I can make the drive exciting.”

“Roddy, my friend, you are a teasing flirt. But you got yourself a deal.”

The Autobot chuckled and rose. They walked back to the access road the Audi transformed, waiting for Stark to get in. They went back to Point Dume, to Tony’s house, to get whatever Stark was taking along.

Rodimus was happy to be back, in the garage, the workshop, with Tony.

“Welcome back, Rodimus Prime,“ Jarvis greeted him politely.

“Good to be back,” he replied and parked in his usual spot.

“You two catch up on the gossip, girls, I’ll pack,” Tony called and disappeared between his computer screens and half-finished experiments.

Rodimus chuckled and settled down for the wait. Jarvis was updating him on Tony’s projects, Tony himself, everything that had happened since the last time he had been here. It had been a while.

And yes, it felt like coming back home.

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Starscream had hung around for way too long after his meeting with Optimus Prime. Part of him was still reflecting on the brief but violent contact with the technopath’s mind. It had been a strange feeling, an unexpected one. Sam had been strong, even in his weakened state, and Starscream didn’t want to imagine meeting a fully aware and 100% active mind. His only choice had been brief sonic blow. Sam had recovered and their next meeting would be interesting.

The undercover operative had left Earth within the shadows of the SI satellites, aware of every single one of them due to Optimus Prime’s encoded information. As he had passed one of the outer satellites, something had touched his senses and he had been surprised to find a message waiting for him.

--Nice not-meeting you. Come by for a drink one day—

Attached was a key. A code key. Starscream was stunned. The satellites were on a wild, unpredictable code rotation to keep them from being hacked. It had been Blaster, together with Perceptor and Tony Stark, who had developed the codes.

--Handle with care—was attached to the key. –You lose it, I’ll sue your aft off—

He had to laugh. Well, chuckle.

They key was stored where all the important information was, deep within his core, where nothing could penetrate, where his self was.

A personal invitation by Tony Stark, one of the Primes. The only one without a Prime name – for now. He would consider taking the human up on his invitation.

Starscream ignited his thrusters and lazily cruised past Mars, heading out of the Solar System. He took his time, going the long way to where the temporary base had been established. Hidden within the Kuiper belt, among countless asteroids and space debris. It was small, but sufficient. It served their purposes.

He was greeted by Skywarp, who was manning the little outpost as Thundercracker was keeping track of Soundwave’s movements.

“Anything?” Starscream asked curtly.

“Nothing. Not a peep. Thrust’s with him. Dirge and Ramjet are… about.”

Starscream grimaced. “Sunstorm?”

“Recon.”

“Good.”

“There’s been a faint signal coming from what looks like Dreadwind and Darkwing.”

“The inseparables?” Starscream chuckled.

“Yeah. Sunstorm is looking into it.” Skywarp looked doubtful.

“Wait and see,” was all the Seeker leader said. With that he walked deeper into the base.

He had his work cut out for him.

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fin for this one.