Absolution
A BeastWars story

By
 Lady Razorsharp


    "NO!! PRIMUS, NO!!!"

    Pain exploded along every nerve of Optimus' body, searing his TransMetal skin and singeing the fur off his synthetic bio-matter. Blinding light filled his optics, and he could feel his retinal sensors burning, the agony unspeakable except for a high, wailing shriek he heard coming from his own harmonizer. _Coward!_ flashed a delirious thought across his processor, but something told him that this pain was beyond anything any 'bot, even Optimus Prime himself, should be made to endure.

    "Help me!  Somebody, help me!  Optimus, help me!"  Rattrap was screaming from somewhere off to Optimus' right, his cry audible even over the rumbling din of the blast Megatron had loosed moments before.

    "Rattrap!  Where are you??" Optimus yelled back, trying to move, but the heat had welded him to the spot.  With a groaning wrench of metal, Optimus tore himself from the unyielding ground, but he couldn't seem to get his balance, and he toppled over with a crash.  "Rattrap!  Rhinox!  Cheeeetoooorrr!" he yelled with all his strength, but there was no answer save the crackle of fire and the heavy BOOM! of cataclysm from the volcano above.

    Locked in a world of darkness and agony, Optimus lay between the ruins of the past and the future, and another pain began to spread through his crippled body like an insidious stain.  "I've failed," he murmured to himself, feeling his steel hands dig into the scarred plating of the floor. "I've failed.  I didn't stop Megatron in time, the future is gone, the past is gone...." his harmonizer faded into nothingness, and suddenly he felt cold, despite the heat of the volcano above him.  With a small shock, Optimus realized he was dying, but he did not fight the velvet darkness that replaced the mere blindness of his optics.  All the pain of his physical body drifted away, as if swept from him by a soothing sea, but the dull ache of failure remained like a knot in the pit of what used to be his chestplate.  _So, this is dying,_ he thought with his usual analytical detachment. _Well, this is just Prime._

    Suddenly, a blue-white light distracted him from his contemplation, and he seemed to be drawing closer to the light's source.  This light, however, did not hurt--in fact, the closer he got to it, the better he felt.  Realization finally dawned upon Optimus' dazzled mind when he saw a huge, blue-white sphere hanging in an infinitely black, starry space, and he immediately went to his knees.  _This is space, there is no surface that would allow kneeling,_ came a small, analytical thought against the joy growing in his chestplate, but Optimus pushed it back and turned his full attention to the light.  "Primus," he breathed, averting his gaze to his scarred, intertwined hands.

    "Welcome, Optimus Primal," came a crystalline voice, the syllables penetrating all through the Maximal that knelt humbly before the Guiding Force of all Cybertronian life.  "You have served the Matrix well."

    "But.....I have failed.  My mission was a failure."  Shame wracked Optimus' shattered body, and he bowed his head even further.  "I am not worthy."

    "Do you dare question the Judgment of Primus?" The words did not change in tone, but fear replaced the shame in Optimus, making him wish he could disappear.

    Falling forward to palms and knees, Optimus rested his forehead on the not- surface and began to tremble.  "Forgive....please, forgive me..."   

    "I can see, young Maximal, that you are not so easily swayed."  A new voice, this one with a slight quirk to it, faintly tinged with amusement.  "A fine quality in a warrior--but your battles are done, my young friend."

    Optimus' head shot up at this voice, which was familiar, yet strange.  A memory from a recharge dream, perhaps, or a vision of the future...."Alpha Trion?" he queried cautiously, then bowed his head yet again in respect for the ancient Autobot, who was merest legend in the Maximal's time.  "Did Primus send you to multiply my shame?"

    Chuckling softly, Alpha Trion helped Optimus to his feet.  "No, no, lad, not at all.  Primus, in Its wisdom, knew you were not ready to come face to face with It, so It sent me."  The golden Autobot with long, flowing mustaches smiled at his young charge.  "When you are ready to accept It, Primus will know."

    "But the Decepticons won!" Optimus challenged, not understanding how Alpha Trion could look past Optimus' tragic mistake.  "The universe as we know it was altered!  There's no recompense for that."

    Alpha Trion fixed the Maximal with a steady blue gaze.  "Did they win?  Are you so sure of that?"

    Nodding, Optimus held up his scarred hands as proof.  "I watched Megatron destroy Optimus Prime and all the Autobots.  My friends are dead, too; I failed them, as their leader."  His broad shoulders slumped. "I do not fear the Inferno--but I will gladly go if it means my friends are safe."

    "They are, trust Primus."  Alpha Trion smiled enigmatically.  "But come, my young friend.  I have something to show you."  He turned, beckoning Optimus to follow, and suddenly the glittering, starry space was replaced by an immense room that looked suspiciously like a repair bunker.  "Look well, Optimus Primal, and then ask yourself again if evil truly does triumph over good."

    Doing as he was bade, Optimus peered down the length of the room, and voices began to echo up ahead.  As Alpha Trion and Optimus approached, the voices became more distinct, and the Maximal suppressed a surprised gasp at what he heard.

    "...energon is rapidly being depleted," came a strong, authoritative voice, and it belonged to a tall robot that stood before a motley group of soldiers who listened with rapt attention.  Although Optimus couldn't see the speaker's face--his back was turned towards the wondering Maximal--he saw unadulterated respect, confidence, and in some cases, hero worship in the optics of those listening.  "The Cybertronian Council has asked me to pick a team of the finest warriors I can find to go on a top-secret mission.  We must seek out an alternate source of energon, or Cybertron--and everything and everyone on it--will be destroyed."

    This thought seemed to horrify those seated in a semi-circle amongst the crates and boxes of the bunker, and Optimus realized he was listening in on a secret meeting.  One of the robots, a stocky, red-plated male with bright blue optics, swept his gaze amongst his brothers and turned back to the tall one, who seemed to wear authority like a mantle on his broad shoulders.  "Whatcha need us ta do, sir?" he drawled, his voice thickly accented in a way Optimus had only heard in ancient .wav files of humans living in southeastern North America.

    "I've made my selection of those who will be going," the leader continued, spreading his orange-plated arms to either side, including those who sat amongst the jumbled supplies.  "I have chosen all of you as those I want with me, in addition to about twenty others recommended to me by the Council. However, I am sad to say, the femmes will be staying here.  It seems that the Council does not wish to deplete Cybertron of all its finest."

    There was a few moments of silence in the room, and Optimus saw the red-plated robot bow his head for an instant, a barely whispered N'thonian curse under his breath at this news.  "Ah guess they're raht.  I'm gonna miss that Chromia, though," he said sadly, and the other agreed, no doubt thinking of their partners as well.

    "So, are you with me?  This is going to be the most dangerous mission we have ever undertaken," the leader went on, his powerful voice masterfully weaving a spell of courage that even made Optimus believe.  "We may never see Cybertron again....but we've got to try.  Megatron must be stopped--no matter the cost."

    Gasping in surprise, Optimus backed up a step at the familiar name of his most deadly enemy.  "Megatron! But how--" he began, but Alpha Trion motioned for him to be silent as the charismatic leader continued.

    "We leave tomorrow morning, at 0530.  There is a small planet located in the Cobalt Sector that the Council has researched, and it seems to show promise of a great supply of energon.  We will go there, collect as much as we can without disturbing the planet's ecosystem, and then return to Cybertron."

    "But Megatron's sure to know we're going to attempt such a mission," countered a white-plated medic robot.  "How are we going to get there and back without being discovered?"

    The leader set his powerful, blued-steel hands on his hips, quieting the flurry of questions buzzing about his ranks.  "We don't know that Megatron has any idea of what we're planning.  If he does, however, that is why the Council asked me to hand-pick the finest warriors available.  This may be the chance we're looking for--if Megatron is stranded somewhere in space without a supply of energon, he will fall.  So, I ask again.  Are you with me?"

    This time, there were nods of acceptance among the soldiers, and one by one, they stood to accept their duty.  "You can count on us, Prahme," said the red robot with a grin, and Optimus gasped as the leader finally turned around to reveal his face.

    "Optimus Prime!"  The Maximal froze in disbelief as the bunker faded away, and he, Alpha Trion, and the legendary Autobot stood together in a place outside of time.  "I--I saw you destroyed."  Primal shook his ape-like head, ruby optics shuttered with emotion.  "I don't understand."

    "That's all right, my friend.  All you need to know right now is that you did not fail."  Optimus Prime looked proudly on his namesake, and the two stood as leader to leader, friend to friend.  "The Autobots, the Maximals, and their descendants will always triumph, though the hardships they face on that path may seem unendurable."

    Alpha Trion put one hand on Primal's shoulder.  "The future is always changing, my son.  But I think if you look over here, you will see that you did not fail."

    A huge square of light that acted as a viewscreen reflected the image of a young, red-plated robot, who addressed another small, rag-tag group of war- weary soldiers, their bright smiles and shining optics showing their confidence in the ringing words. 

    "Let this mark the end of the Cybertronian Wars, as we march forward into a new era of peace and happiness!"

    Primal whirled to face Alpha Trion and Optimus Prime, an incredulous grin spreading over his face.  "Rodimus!  So that means Megatron did not destroy the Ark!"

    Alpha Trion and Prime exchanged glances, and both reached out towards Primal, who suddenly became aware that he was overwhelmingly dizzy.  "You are wise, my young friend," Alpha Trion's voice cut through a whirling pattern of light and color, and Primal had a sensation of falling.  "Primus has made Its decision. Farewell, Optimus Primal--till all are one."

    With a shock as if he had hit solid stone, Optimus lifted his head, the acrid smoke of his own singed fur in his olfactory sensors.  "What the--?" he asked the air around him, and for a moment he panicked, realizing that his optics did not come on-line.  Then he heard clanging footfalls, and familiar voices drew near .

    "Over here!  He's alive!"  Cheetor's voice--and Optimus noticed that the air was cool, instead of the fiery, superheated atmosphere he remembered. "Optimus, can you hear me?"

    "Come on, boss 'bot, say somethin'!" Rattrap pleaded, close to his audiosensor on the other side.

    Optimus managed a nod, the motion sending pain through every bolt in his body.  "I'm functional.  What---what's going on?"

    "The volcano set off an earthquake that reburied the Ark and smothered the flames," explained Cheetor, as Optimus heard Rhinox and Silverbolt calling instructions back and forth as they cleared a path towards escape.  "Megatron was destroyed by his own firepower--the reaction he set off backlashed and blew him to space dust."

    "I don't believe it," Optimus murmured, something tickling at the back of his mind, wanting to be remembered, but it faded back into his databanks as soon as he tried to access it.  "I can't see."

    Rhinox' gravelly voice drew nearer, and Optimus felt the Maximal's expert hands on his forehead.  "Your optics are burned out.  It'll take some time for your internal systems to repair them, but they should be back on-line soon. You've got superficial damage to most of your bio-matter, and most of your plating has been warped, but I think your internal systems are intact.  We need to get back to base, and leave the future to take its course."

    "Agreed.  Come on, Maximals; we've got a long trip ahead of us," Optimus said, and the small band of warriors started out for home.

   
    "Bumblebee to Optimus Prime--come here, I think I found something!"

    Optimus Prime, Ironhide, Prowl, Jazz, and Bumblebee stood in Wheeljack's lab, grouped around a table that held a scarred, burnt-out shell of something that looked vaguely familiar.  "I think it's another life form like us," Wheeljack explained.  "That's the only explanation I can come up with."

    "Well, whoever he was, there's no way of telling now.  He sustained too much damage to even read his processor."  Prowl shook his head. "Poor bastard, I wouldn't have liked to see what he must have seen to get this banged up."

    Prime put a hand to his chin in thought.  "Hmm, indeed.  What's this strange symbol, Wheeljack, can you run a make on that?"

    Wheeljack shook his head.  "Nope, I ran it through Teletran 1 and it keeps coming up negative.  Nothing like it in our database."

    "I see.  Well, let's get back to work, Autobots," Prime suggested, a sudden chill scudding like an icy wind along his plating.  "Let's leave the past in peace."

*The End*

TRANSFORMERS: BeastWars: Absolution  (c)Copyright 1998 Melissa McCook  Melody Silver/Golden Eighth Note Ltd. 
TRANSFORMERS™ and all related characters are property of HASBRO, Inc.  THIS WORK IS NOT FOR SALE OR PUBLICATION AND IS NOT INTENDED TO INFRINGE ON ANY COPYRIGHT, NOR IS IT INTENDED TO BE AN ACT OF PLAGIARISM.


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