Author's Note: This story re-introduces a character I made up some time ago...Radiatrix and her galpals Danse and Circuitronius Maxima ("Circus" for short) were my answer to Chromia, Moonracer, and Firestar (I think they were Ironhide, Prowl, and Inferno's girlfriends, respectively)..I wrote a story where Danse and Circus found out they'd been rebuilt from old femme components, since there was a shortage after the Great War...(or at least, in my universe there was). Anyway, Trixi was originally more irreverant, and Optimus and Trixi's first meeting is hinted at in this story...I wanted her to keep her flip attitude, and contrast her with Optimus, who feels somehow that everything he loves and knows is gone, and that he's just an old relic...this story takes place a few years later, so I'm sure she's grown up, and become a little more serious...
Author's Note: This is the song used in "The Date". Have to give credit where it's due, you know. :}
"Time To Say Goodbye(Con Te Partiro)", Sarah Brightman with Andrea Bocelli. From the 1997 Angel album, "Time to Say Goodbye". Written by L. Quarantotto, F. Sartori, and F. Peterson, Sugar Music MV. Copyright 1997 Nemo Studio under license to Angel Records. USED WITHOUT PERMISSION.
(c) Copyright 1998 Melissa McCook Melody Silver/Golden Eighth Note Ltd. TRANSFORMERS™ and all related characters are property of Hasbro Inc. and are used without permission. THIS WORK IS NOT INTENDED FOR SALE OR PUBLICATION AND IS NOT INTENDED TO BE A VIOLATION OF COPYRIGHT OR PLAGARISM.
"...and...the supply...efforts on....Thonos Four...continue...to go well," Optimus Prime murmured, his syllables in tandem with the close, English script he penned on the data pad. Since this was a report that would be shared with the rest of his elite team, Prime was wont to write in English--although most Transformers' basic programs enabled them to decipher any language in the known universe--but his personal log, secreted in a special compartment near the head of his recharge bed, was written in Cybertronian hieroglyph. If there was a need, he mused as he added the final touches to the report, an encryption breaker would decipher the strange symbols--but thankfully, that need had not yet arisen.
As he wrote, an operatic human female voice poured out of the room's sound system and engulfed Prime in a cloud of violin-laden notes, the bittersweet Italian lyrics bringing a twinge of sadness to his core. This song always reminded him of his beloved Alita; the title, "Time to Say Goodbye", brought to mind the many, many times they had done just that--when he left on the Ark before the crashlanding on Earth, when he left Cybertron to return to Earth after the war, and countless times they had parted company to lead their respective groups against Megatron. _We never really had time to say goodbye for the last time,_ he mused bitterly, _but maybe that was for the best._ There had been too many goodbyes, and now she was gone forever; lost in space on one final mission. When he had been on Earth, Prime had often gone out alone on moonless nights and gazed up into the heavens, feeling that somehow, he could sense her spark dancing and laughing along the stars.
"...Vivro conte...partiro....su navi per mari...que io lo so," Prime kept time with the sweeping music, not really singing , but saying the words in time with the passionate human male and female duet. However, his musings were interrupted by the chime of his office door, and without looking up from his work, addressed whoever was on the other side of the door. "Yes?"
"Optimus?" came the familiar query. "It's 'Magnus."
"Come."
At Prime's command, the door slid open to reveal the blue-and-white lieutenant commander, and 'Magnus stepped into the room, his heavily armored feet making dull clanks against the metal floor. 'Magnus waited patiently as Optimus signed his name to the bottom of the report, the illustrious leader finishing his signature with a flourish that made it unforgeable, then stepped up to the desk with a small smile. "Here, this came for you a few microns ago." Proferring a square object wrapped in elegant silver foil and sealed with an intricate seal Prime didn't recognize, 'Magnus handed the square to Prime and crossed his arms, watching his old friend's face as Prime broke the seal, sapphire optics scanning the golden metal square inside.
"The Greater Cybertronian Council requests the honour of your presence at their annual Ambassadors Opera Benefit, Terran date Friday, May fifteenth, 2010. Curtain at 2030 hrs." Optimus tossed the square onto his desk, leaning back in his chair and lacing his huge steel hands behind his head. "I don't think so."
'Magnus retrieved the invitation and scanned it with his wide blue optics, then perched himself informally on the edge of Prime's desk--the only Autobot who could get away with such an act, and evne then only behind closed doors. "What, I thought you enjoyed the Opera," he protested, motioning to the muted soundsystem.
Prime looked up at the ceiling, tipping his chair back and forth in a casual pose he had once seen Spike take up on a boring watch. "I do, but that's not the point. The point is that I've a million things to do, and there aren't enough cycles in the day to do them all. Attending the opera, as much as I'd like to, would only prolong the agony--I'd still have to come back here and wrestle my arch-nemesis, Paper Trail."
'Magnus grinned at his friend; it wasn't often Prime allowed himself the luxury of a joke. He wished with every fiber of his being that Optimus could once again be the carefree 'Bot he had been when 'Magnus first met him--_How young we all were, how young and hopeful and silly!_he thought wistfully--but now Optimus was the Prime, and 'Magnus his second-in-command, and both had grave responsibilities they could not escape. However, there were the occassional moments that warrented a break in the endless reports and patrols, and this Opera Benefit was one chance he hoped Prime would jump at. 'Magnus knew it would be difficult, but he was determined to wrest Prime away from his desk, if only for a few hours. 'Come on," he wheedled, "you need a night off. Admit it."
Prime laughed humorlessly. "I'll admit that I need to get back to work," he said, making shooing motions in 'Magnus' direction, but the other Autobot ignored the gesture.
"I'll take care of everything tonight, and there's plenty of other 'bots to go around, should something unexpected happen. It's only one night, Prime, it won't kill you."
Prime looked at 'Magnus from under his visor. "No, but in a few micro-seconds I won't be able to say the same for you, if you don't get out of my office," he warned, only half-kidding. "Now, Ultra Magnus, if you'll be so kind---" He felt an ominous sensation on the cusp of 'Magnus' words, as if their conversation was about to take an unwelcome turn, and he felt the heat rise in his faceplate as his fears were confirmed.
"Why don't you take along that pretty young femme I saw you chatting with the other day? I must admit, she was smiling awfully big to make me believe you two were just discussing the Thonos Four project." 'Magnus smiled inwardly as Prime stiffened at the mention of the young femme, and he knew he had crossed into sensitive teritorry when his old friend busily began to jog the edges of the data pads on the desk.
"I don't know who you're referring to, Commander," Prime backpedaled, but he stopped his nervous activity when 'Magnus' only answer was a gentle chuckle.
"Relax, Prime, it's okay. She *is* pretty. What's her name....Radiatrix, right?" 'Magnus took an almost sardonic delight at Prime's discomfiture, but he knew he was on the right track. "Why don't you ask her?"
Sighing heavily, Prime laid the data pads perpindicular to the joins in the desktop, not looking at 'Magnus' face. "I'll think about it," he said finally, surprised to find that he had been thinking of the pretty femme ever since he had received the invitation. He looked up at 'Magnus then, the lieutentant's smile reassuring him, and relief coursed through Prime's sytem as his friend turned to go.
Stopping at the door with his hand on the exit scanner, 'Magnus made one more plea on his case. "Do more than think about it, okay? I'm telling Kup and HotRod that they're on duty tonight, so you might as well go to the damned Opera--there won't be anything for you to do."
Prime laughed in earnest this time, hands on hips as his bass laughter welled up from deep inside his chestplate. It felt good to laugh, and Prime knew 'Magnus was right; he needed some time off. "You just go ahead and do that."
"I will, don't worry." 'Magnus grinned back over his shoulder as the door closed behind him.
After 'Magnus had gone, Optimus crossed back to the desk and picked up the invitation, reading it over once more. Then quickly, so as not to lose his courage, Prime leaned over and tapped the comlink on his desk. "CityCom, this is Optimus Prime."
"CityCom here, " Jazz answered. "What's up, Prime?"
"Do me a favor Jazz, and page Autobot Radiatrix. What's her twenty?"
A few moments of silence, then the recon specialist's hip voice came back over the open link. "She's out by the refinery. What's the message?"
Prime heard himself talking as if his rumbling voice was someone else's harmonizer. "Prime Encoded Script: Urgent I see you in my office. Immediate response required." Prime Encode was the name for the private transmission frequency used by top Autobot officials, and in Optimus' mind, this was definately a cause for using it. Prime didn't want the details of his private life to be stumbled upon, whether purposely or accidentally by Autobot or Decepticon alike, so he took pains to keep his personal life just that--personal.
Thankfully, Jazz knew his duty well and did not question or tease Prime about the summons. "Roger that."
"Thanks, Jazz. Prime out." He flicked the switch on the comlink, then went to the viewport and studied the deep blacknes of space, watching the silver curve of Earth's moon crest over the blue and white planet in the distance. His thoughts drifted to Radiatrix---or Trixi, as the rest of the fleet knew her--and he was again startled to find himself smiling behind his faceplate. All at once he felt guilty, Alita's memory rushing into his CPU and filling the empty gaps that her passing had made, and he felt the indignation of a ghost as he thought about Trixi. _Am I betraying Alita?_ he wondered as the moments passed, waiting for Trixi to appear. "No," he said aloud, turning from the window and pacing across the floor. "She always said if she went to the Matrix before me, she wanted me to find someone else." He stopped pacing for a moment, and loss so deep and black it took his breath away nearly imploded his chestplate. "Primus, 'Lita, am I doing what you asked of me? Or am I just a fool?" The walls had no answer for him, and he nervously resmued his pacing.
Radiatrix had just gotten off duty when her pager went off, and as she held the small piece of chiming circuitry in her hand, her delicate brow furrowed at the encrypted message. Ducking into a deserted alleyway, Trixi held the lighted display up to her optics, then punched in her password and scanned the familiar characters as they translated into intelligible words. Prime Encode usually meant Optimus had an "eyes only" message for her, so she skimmed through the summons and cleared her pager of the message. _His office? Now? But why?_she wondered, although she duly transformed into her lightcycle mode and sped off towards the City. When she reached her destination, she transformed and took the stairs two at a time, the harsh sodium lights glinting off her dark pink plating as she climbed to Central Command's arched doorway. Just before she reached for the doorhandle, Trixi saw her reflection in the glass, and she made a face at the femme covered with soot from the refinery that looked back at her. There was no time to go back to the femme's dorm and grab a quick solvent soak and polish, but the message had stressed urgency. Besides, Optimus was no stranger to getting dirty in the line of duty, Trixi thought with a smile, so it was with a great amount of curiosity that Trixi knocked on Prime's office door.
"Yes?"
"Sir, it's Radiatrix. You wanted to see me?" she said crisply, the formality of her speech clashing with the warm memories of the last time she had seen Optimus.
"Come."
The door slid open, and Trixi stepped in to let the door close behind her. When they were in relative privacy, Optimus turned from the viewport and gazed fondly at the young femme, but he couldn't stifle a small chuckle at her disheveled state. "That color is very becoming on you, Radiatrix," he quipped. "What is it, titanium grey or slag black?"
Trixi grinned, relieved to hear Prime joking around--for that meant nothing serious had happened. "Neither, sir. This is just plain dirt."
"Well, do you think you can locate some solvent before this evening? I've been asked to attend an Opera benefit for the Ambassadors, and since I'm the boss 'bot, I suppose I had better be there." Prime perched on the same edge of the desk that 'Magnus had, though Trixi remained standing just inside the door, ever obedient. "It--ah, was brought to my attention that--ah--well, that I should ask you to accompany me." He felt the heat threaten to rise up over his faceplate and burn like the fires of the Inferno; had it been this hard to ask Alita on a date? _I can command a legion of the finest warriors in the universe, yet I can't ask a femme out. Pax, old boy, you've lost your touch,_ he chided himself.
To his joy and relief, Trixi smiled and nodded. "It would be an honor, sir." Outwardly, Trixi was a picture of military poise, but the part of her that nurtured an immense crush on the Autobot leader wanted to yell in jubilation. She had met Optimus about two Earth years beforehand, when she was relocated to Cybertron from a distant femme outpost, and she marveled at how much more at peace Optimus seemed since that first introduction. Prime had just learned that Alita 1 and all under her command had been lost in space, and Trixi remembered watching Optimus preside over a painful memorial service for the brave femmes. One night about one Earth year later, when Trixi was out with a few of her friends, she had noticed the off-duty leader sitting alone in a dark corner of a noisy energon bar, and something inside her had told her to go talk to him. Their conversation had been stiff at first, then easier as the grieving leader opened up to Trixi's willng audiosensors as he had never opened up to anyone--anyone, that is, except Alita. Trixi tried to keep an attitude of "just friends" towards Optimus, but lately she caught herself thinking about him when she wasn't with him. The rest of the Autobots had probably guessed by now that they were more than just friends, and some had even whispered that the two had gone so far as to interface, but Trixi knew that wasn't so. Even now, as Prime nodded, clearly pleased that she had accepted his invintation, Trixi was determined not to let her emotions get the best of her and validate those rumors. Trixi had respected Alita, if she hadn't served directly under her, and the young female would not dream of treading on such sacred ground.
"Good. I'll have Ultra Magnus meet you at 2000 hours at your barracks then," Prime said decisively, but he caught the miniscule frown of disappointment that Trixi thought she had concealed from him. "On second thought, why don't we just meet back here?" He chuckled self-consciously, folding his powerful arms across his chest. "You must forgive me, Radiatrix; it's been a long time since I went on a ---what do the humans call it? A date?" They both laughed softly, dissapating the tension in the air. "Sometimes I don't feel like I have much of a private life at all."
Trixi smiled. "Begging your pardon sir, but if that were true, I wouldn't be here. However, you *are* the Prime, and one would assume that privacy comes secondary."
Looking at Trixi as if seeing her for the first time, Prime was impressed with Trixi's insight, especially for one so young. "That it does," he murmured, smiling behind his faceplate as he scanned her lovely fuschia curves. She was shorter than Alita, he noted, not as delicate but still graceful, with the air of captive flame, where Alita had been willowy. Alita had been serenity incarnate--that is, until crossed by a 'Con--but Trixi was 100% spitfire. Needless to say, Prime found himself fascinated by her.
"Well, sir, if that's all, I guess I'll be going to find that solvent," Trixi said after a few moments of awkward silence, and Prime looked up with a start, pulling himself back from a sea of memories.
"By all means. I didn't mean to keep you standing here," he said sheepishly, standing to walk Trixi to the door. "Until then."
As a reflex, Trixi snapped her commanding officer a salute, and Prime returned it without thinking. At the same moment, both Autobots realized that there really wasn't a need for this sort of formality at the moment, especially behind closed doors, but neither could think of what to do next. Another awkward silence ensued as they both lowered their salutes, but it was Trixi who finally decided what to do. This would be a long shot, she thought, but nothing else seemed to fit the moment--so she took a step closer to Prime, stood on tiptoe, and pressed her lips briefly against the left sideof his faceplate. Then she was gone, the door flashing shut behind her almost as if she had never been there.
Behind Trixi in his office, Prime stood completely still for a few moments, still feeling her lips through the sensitive facemask, almost as if she had placed her kiss on his exposed cheek. Then he slapped the door control, sprinting like a young 'Bot down the hall towards 'Magnus's quarters, and without bothering to knock, burst into his friend's room. "She said YES!" he nearly shouted, barely managing to dampen his volume just in time, lest the entire base hear his jubilation. 'Magnus just grinned back, seeing a glimmer of the old Orion in his friend's optics, and he made a note internally to thank Trixi for it.
Later, Prime was tapping notes into his keyboard when a knock came at his office door, and he glanced at the chronometer hanging on the wall above a blueprint of the first Ark. It wasn't time for Trixi to meet him here yet, so it was with some puzzlement that he answered the summons. "Come."
Once more, Ultra Magnus stepped into his commander's office, and his grin spoke volumes before he uttered a single word. "Just came by to tell you that everything is set for tonight; HotRod and Kup will be on duty with me until zero hours, then Jazz and Blaster will take over. It should be a quiet night, though--Megatron's keeping a low profile for a change." He sighed, dropping into the swivel chair in front of Prime's mammoth black glass desk. "I don't like that, it makes me nervous when we don't hear from the Decepticons for a while."
Prime nodded understanding, turning off his keyboard and stowing it back underneath the desk. "I know what you mean. Makes me think that Megatron's got something up his sleeve. Paranoia has always been one of Megatron's favorite tactics--get everyone jumping at their own shadows, then they lose their edge."
"Speaking of being sharp," 'Magnus changed the subject abruptly, "what are you wearing to the Opera tonight?"
Too surprised to laugh, Prime raised his metal brow in question of 'Magnus' sanity. "What am I--what on Cybertron are you talking about, Commander? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"No, I'm serious."
Prime sat back in his chair, totally thunderstruck. "'Magnus, old friend, you've been reading too many of those human magazines again, haven't you? Those best-and-worst-dressed issues, right?" He sighed, as 'Magnus' serious expression didn't change. "If you must know, I'm going exactly like I am right at this micro-second."
"Like that?" 'Magnus' disapproval was clear as he studied his friend from head to foot.
Shaking his head, the Autobot leader looked away and addressed the portrait of Alita that Carly Witwicky had painted for him a few Earth years ago. "I don't believe I'm having this conversation." Then he turned back to 'Magnus, certain that the commander had several chips loose. "What's wrong with that? It's not like I have a whole lot of options. What's gotten into you, 'Magnus?"
"Don't you have anything...well...official looking? That seems to impress femmes for some reason." 'Magnus looked up at Prime with a wicked grin. "That always works for me, anyway."
Instantly, Prime was on his feet, one powerful orange-plated arm showing 'Magnus the fastest way to the door. "OUT!" he demanded, exasperated beyond belief--not to mention embarassed by what his friend implied. "You're damned lucky I don't believe in throwing Autobots into the brig anymore, Commander, or a remark like that might have gotten you a permanent stay!"
'Magnus seemed to blanche, even though his faceplate was already painted white. "I'm sorry, Optimus, I didn't mean any disrespect." He half-smiled as Prime began to relax, though he could feel Prime's irritation crackle in the air like static electricity. "Forget I ever said it." He snapped a precise salute, then turned silently on his heel and exited the office, leaving Optimus alone once more.
A few cycles later, Optimus stood in front of the viewport, using the reflection in the glass as a mirror. Despite 'Magnus' slightly lewd comment, Prime had taken his suggestion and dug out the only piece of appearance alteration he had--a set of epaulets that attached to his shoulders, with a long, sweeping piece of metallic material trailing to the floor. A chain of golden plaques inscribed with the Autobot symbol looped across his chestplate, making sure the epaulets stayed in place, and suddenly Prime remembered why he didn't bring this out more often--it was heavy, from the weight of the plaques and the material, and he kept stepping on the elegant cape. However, he mused, turning from side to side and studying his reflection, he *did* seem to cut a dashing figure in the silly bit of finery. Perhaps 'Magnus was right; this 'dating' thing seemed to be more complex than he realized.
Turning away from his reflection, Prime's optics were caught by the portrait of Alita hanging on the wall near the door, and the loss roared at him again from the serenity of her smile. _What would you think of all this, 'Lita?_ he asked her silently, one fingertip caressing the two-dimensional curve of her chin. _Would this have turned your head? Or would you laugh at this folly and accept me as I am?_ He sighed heavily, the chain of plaques shifting, and he yanked them back into place. "Primus," he whispered, knowing that he shouldn't use the name of his god in vain, but indulging his frustration at her departure from his life gave relief, if only temporarily. The door to his office chimed, but his throat had suddenly become tight and wouldn't allow a summons to come forth, so he tapped the control panel on his desk without turning around.
Trixi stepped into Optimus' office, her smile fading as she saw Prime standing with one hand on either side of Alita's portrait. His head was bowed in a mix of frustration and grief that radiated from him like a laser beam, so she approached him on silent feet, laying a hand on his shoulder in offer of comfort. "I'm sorry, sir. She was a great femme."
Prime smiled faintly to himself. "Nothing to be sorry about, little one. She knew the risks, and so did I. I'm glad she ended her existence doing what she was programmed to do."
The young femme kept her hand on Prime's shoulder. "It's alright to miss her, sir. Noone is begrudging you that."
"I need no one's permission to miss her," Prime said softly, looking at the floor where the silver fabric pooled around his feet. "That emptiness stays with me always."
Trixi lowered her hand, wondering if she had said something wrong. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean that the way it sounded." She backed off a few steps, hand reaching for the door. "Maybe it's best that I not accompany you tonight. I'll just be going now."
"Wait." Prime turned from the wall and went to Trixi, closing the door again before she could open it all the way. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. You're a fine Autobot, Radiatrix, and you deserve better than this. Alita told me long ago that she couldn't bear the thought of me not having someone to confide in, so she made me swear to Vector Sigma that I would find another partner, should anything happen to her." He sighed heavily. "Of course, at the time, I didn't want to hear that--we were both very young, and I thought we were immortal. Well, you know how this story ends, Trixi, so I won't bother to go on."
Nodding, Trixi took Prime's hands in hers, noticing that hers looked tiny next to his huge, blued-steel fingers. "I used to think that way too. I lost my first partner on Moon Base 2 in the Great War, though, so I've learned to deal with it. It's not easy." She looked into his sapphire sensors, and tried to make him understand. "I won't lie to you and say I don't imagine being your partner. What I will say though, is that maybe she's telling you it's okay to let her go."
This new thought came as a complete surprise to the Autobot leader, and suddenly the grief was gone; could it be true? Could he let her go, free and unencumbered to the Matrix,where he knew they would meet again? Looking into Trixi's sky blue optics, Optimus dared to hope for the first time that the pain of losing Alita might lose its sting. "Trixi, what do you say we skip the Opera?" he asked, and the answer was in the young femme's face even before the words were out of her harmonizer.
"I'll agree to that, sir!"
"Please," he stopped her before she could speak again. "I would like it very much if you would call me by my model name, Optimus."
Trixi grinned. "Yes sir--I mean, Optimus, " she said cautiously, the name sending a warm flush all through her circuits. "I guess you won't need that anymore," she said, gesturing to the formal cape still swinging from his shoulders.
"No, that's true enough." Unclasping the chain of plaques and letting the whole thing fall over his recharge bed with a sharp CLINK!, Prime flexed his arms with an explosive sigh. "Ah, that's much better." He turned to Trixi and caught her small hand, then led her to the door and into the hall, ignoring the curious stares of Autobots they passed who immediately pretended not to be staring. "So, what would you like to do?"
Trixi shrugged, not caring one bit what they did, so long as it was together. "I don't know, sir--er, Optimus. Whatever you had in mind is alright with me."
A sly tone crept into Prime's harmonizer. "You ever been to Earth, Radiatrix?"
As the two boarded a small, two-'bot shuttle and blasted off for the blue planet in the distance, Prime looked out at the beautiful, winking stars, and a smile spread behind his faceplate as a particularly brilliant one caught his optic sensor. It glimmered serenely, giving light to its own system far out in space, then faded as the shuttle left it behind. "Time to say goodbye, " Prime murmured, guiding the craft into Autobot City's landing pattern.
*The End*