Rightly Divided

 By
Lady MoonHawke
and
Lady Razorsharp

And if you want to hurt me
There’s nothing left to fear
Cause if you want to hurt me
You’re doing really well my dear
“Walking on Broken Glass” – Annie Lennox


“Raven, you have to see what they’ve uncovered in the Old City!”

Raven looked up Velocity’s rushed pronouncement, stylus poised over her datapad.  “I’m a little busy right now, Vel.  Can it wait?”

“Well, it’s not going anywhere, but they just uncovered it from the rubble.  I thought you’d want to see.”
Raven set the stylus down.  “What have they uncovered, Velocity?”

“The Old Temple of Primus.  And there are markings, and since Maman is gone, there is no one else who can read Old Decepticon…”

She hadn’t finished before Raven was on her feet, datapad and stylus forgotten.  “Show me,” Raven demanded.

They moved quickly out to the old city of Iacon and the restoration efforts underway there.  Velocity pulled her into a cordoned off area near the center of the ruined city.  “Hard-Top was doing the original excavation, and when he realized what he’d found, he called Rodimus Prime to come look at it.  He didn’t feel like he should make any decisions without someone in authority looking first.  So when we got out here, Rodimus was able to confirm that it was the Temple.  We started examining the area that was cleared, and I saw the markings.  I pointed them out to the others, but none of us could read them.”  She looked downcast.  “Sirius or Destiny could—”

“They are considerably older than you, child, and you have never shown an interest in learning the language.  We can correct the oversight if you wish.  Continue.”

Velocity nodded.  “Rodimus said you can read Old Decepticon, and I should tell you what we found.”

“But not that I was to pick up and come look for myself?” she asked.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to stay away,” she heard him say from behind her.

Raven turned and smiled.  “You were right.”  Turning back to Velocity, she said, “Show me exactly how you found them.”

She followed as Velocity led her through the discovery; where they came in, where they stood, the location of the Eternal Flame of Primus etched into the wall itself behind the remains of a crumbling altar.  “Then I looked down,” she said.

Raven looked down as well, and there, under her feet, worn from centuries of feet and grit, but still visible, the Eternal Flame again, this time with the angular script of Old Decepticon surrounding it.  She stepped back carefully, gesturing the others back as well, and knelt next to the icon.  Reverently, she brushed the grit from the surface.  “You want to learn Old Decepticon?”  she asked Velocity.  “These symbols mean Primus,” she said, pointing to a series of figures arching above the flame.  “These,” she continued, indicating those below the flame, “mean ‘Heart of the Empire.’”

“So what do we have here?” Rodimus asked.

“It’s part of a series of prayers and meditations.  Reminders, aspects of the ideal soldier.  There are patrons who represent these aspects and intercede with Primus at the center of the Empire.”

“It’s a strictly Decepticon religion, then?” he pressed.

Raven chuckled softly.  “It’s not an exclusionary practice, Rodimus, but I never knew any Autobot that followed it in the time I was actively practicing.”

“Why not?” asked Velocity.

Raven offered her a cryptic Decepticon smile.  “I think that will become clear very soon.”  She turned to Hard-Top, who hovered off to one side.  “I need the floor cleared as soon as possible.  And find out if that balcony is stable.”


Within a cycle, they were perched in the hastily reinforced balcony, watching the progress.

“Start from the central icon,” Raven called down to the bots armed with compressed-air blowers.  “Follow the lines as you reach the other icons.”  They watched in fascination as, moment by moment, a Decepticon symbol was revealed in the floor.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rodimus breathed, staring down at the angular face.

Raven was smiling.  “Not at all.  This temple clearly pre-dates the war.  It may pre-date the Division as well.  It’s the Patron’s Path, or the Walk of the Warrior.  Most of Cybertron’s deities are laid out down there.”

“But hasn’t Primus always been Cybertron’s only deity?  Maman taught us about Primus, but she never mentioned anything like this.”  Velocity stared in awe.

“Razorsharp doesn’t acknowledge the Path,” Raven said distractedly.  She looked up at them.  “Do you want to see it closer?”

They returned to the Temple floor and crossed to an alcove to one side on the main altar of Primus.  “You can start anywhere on the outer ring,” Raven explained, “but I always started here with Rhyah.”  She stopped to run reverent fingers over the carved tile.  “She was my special guardian in the Arena, the lioness of—”

“Courage,” Velocity interrupted excitedly.  “It says courage right under the picture.”

Raven smile dup at her with pride.  “Exactly.  Many foundations of the language have remained the same.”  She stood again.  “Let me show you the rest.”

They moved from one glyph to another, and as Raven pointed out their names, Velocity found it easier and easier to translate their particular attributes.


Eventually they returned to the emblem of Primus in the center of the floor.  “This was always the end.  Some Paths would have incense or tapers here, something to mark the passage.”  Raven looked around at the incongruous setting.  “What’s going to happen to it when they rebuild in here?”

Rodimus grimaced slightly.  “I honestly don’t know.  I don’t think we expected to find Decepticon artifacts in the center of an Autobot city.”

“It wasn’t always exclusively Autobot, Rodimus.  If this Path is destroyed in favor of the Autobot Temple, a part of Decepticon history will be lost.”

Rodimus waved Hard-Top over.  “Cordon off these tiles for the time being.  I’ll have to talk to Optimus before any decision is made.”

“What if he doesn’t want it here?” Velocity asked.

“Well, kiddo, in that case, I’d recommend finding an appropriate place to move or recreate it.  We’re not trying to erase all traces of the Decepticons from Cybertron, Velocity, but we have to consider what it in everyone’s best interests, and sometimes that involves compromises.”  He shot a look toward Raven.  Back me up here.

Raven put a reassuring hand on the smaller femme’s shoulder.  Velocity had yet to achieve even her mother’s slight stature.  “Optimus Prime will be fair, Velocity.  Of that, I have no doubt.”


Optimus raised an optic ridge at the end of Raven’s presentation.

“That’s quite a find,” he commented.  “Is it complete?”

“Very nearly.  The icons are in good condition, especially considering their age.  The inlayed spokes connecting them are somewhat the worse for wear, but they are easy enough to replace.”

“And this was an old practice?”  he asked.

“It seemed to be dying out when I took it up, Optimus Prime.  The sole worship of Primus was becoming very popular. The Dragon admired the older ways, and instructed me in the practice when I was in training with her.”
The corners of Prime’s optics relaxed, and Raven had the sense he was smiling.  “I remember her.  She was a skilled fighter and an advocate for peace between Autobots and Decepticons.”

Raven nodded.  “She never lost a match in the Arena.  And never struck a blow outside of it.”

Optimus seemed to absorb the information.  “All right.”  He looked at Rodimus.  “So where are we now?”

“I cordoned off the icon tiles.  The rebuilding is continuing around them.”

Optimus’ brows drew together.  “That’s some fairly important work going on in there, Roddy.  Aren’t the cordons going to slow it down?”

Rodimus nodded.  “Yes.  I imagine so.  But Raven didn’t want to step on the icons once she recognized the first one.  She didn’t want Velly or me to step on them either.  I think the respect is worth a little lost time.”

Optimus absorbed this as well.  “Good point.  So the old Temple of Primus occupies what was a gathering point for this ritual?”

“I believe so, sir,” Raven confirmed.  “The universal worship of Primus evolved much later.”

“It’s hardly universal, for which I am grateful.  Recommendations?”

Raven glanced at Rodimus, and he nodded at her.  “The Path should be moved, Optimus Prime.  A suitable location some distance from the Temple can be found, I’m sure.”

“Why?”

“May I speak freely?”  At his nod, she continued.  “When the Decepticons are repatriated, there will be a great deal of tension.  To add to it be insisting that those with differing beliefs practice together seems, well… foolish.”

“I don’t know if you realize it, Lieutenant, but separating the populations was responsible for the build-up of hostilities before.  I’d like to see us all try to live together.  And if Sirius gets it into his head that I plan to confine the Decepticons to wretched ghettos, he’d be after my job, not to mention my head.”

“He’d have a lot of us to wade through first,” Rodimus rumbled.

“That’s reassuring, but beside the point,” Optimus pointed out.  “We have to start learning to live together again.  This is as good a place as any.”  He nodded to Rodimus.  “Dismissed.  Lieutenant, can you stay for a minute?”

“Of course.” She looked over to Rodimus.  “I’ll meet you later.”

He looked from Optimus to her.  “All right.”  His voice was deceptively calm, and Raven sighed internally, anticipating the discussion to come.

“If there’s a problem—” she began after the door closed.

“It’s nothing like that,” Optimus assured her.  “The furthest thing from it, actually.  You turned down a promotion quite a while ago, and what with one thing and another, I hadn’t gotten around to offering it again.  But you are more than due.  Your work consistently exceeds expectations, and you’re a credit to the Autobots.  I’d like to be able to acknowledge that.”

“I am honored to be of service, Optimus Prime.  If it is your wish to advance me, I will most humbly accept.”

“This time, huh?”

She colored, a faint ripple of energon tinting her face.  “I must apologize for not accepting in the proper spirit in the past, but—”

Optimus cut her off.  “Raven, you know Roddy is like a son to me, right?”  She nodded, and he continued.  “Despite my preliminary doubts, you’ve been good for him, given him focus.  And I was thrilled when you settled down together and started a family.”  He pressed on in spite of her confused look.  “I’m trying to say that I think of you as a daughter.  So you shouldn’t feel the need to be so formal.”

She colored even more.  “I am very aware of the honor you are offering, Optimus Prime, but, and I hope you won’t be offended, I had progenitors.”  She smiled faintly.  “You were the first Autobot I ever saw, did you know?  And young as I was, I thought you the most handsome thing I had ever seen.  Now I am older, and my standards have changed slightly, but I think it would be better to maintain our more formal relationship.  For everyone’s sake.”  She stood gracefully.  “May I be excused?”

He nodded.  “Thank you for your honesty.  And I meant it about that promotion.  It will be published in the next list.”

“Thank you sir.”  She saluted and left.



Raven stopped by the Archives to return the trax of fairy tales she had borrowed for Cerise and Peregrine.  She smiled fondly as she stacked the cases on the counter; some of these same stories had made the dingy walls of her childhood home fade away to become fantastic fortresses, places full of brave mechs and strong, beautiful femmes, where everything always ended fairly and justly.  To Raven’s surprise, her young femme had shown more interest in the tales of great battles won and lost by the heroes of the Empire, while her son had enjoyed the stories of worlds filled with strange and wonderful creatures, who befriended Decepticon colonists eons ago.  Raven wondered idly, as Gedreonix scanned her archive tally, what the stories would mean for her children as they grew.  Her own experience with them had made it very clear that she wanted something far more than to be one of the Empire’s broodmares, churning out offspring merely to swell the ranks of the Armada.

She was on her way out the door when a young femme, her nose buried in her datapad, collided with Raven.  A bundle of trax the young one had been carrying clattered to the floor, and Raven bent to help pick them up.  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she murmured, gathering the small cases into a neat pile.

“That’s all right; it’s my fault—Lady Raven!”  The young femme—Velocity—grinned at her mentor.  “I was reading; I didn’t scan you.  I’m sorry.”

Raven grinned.  “It’s all right.  What’s grabbed your attention so completely?”

Vel stepped back a half-step, hugging the datapad to her chest.  “Oh, nothing really,” she hedged.  “Just something I was interested in.”  She accepted the pile of trax from Raven, looking trapped when Raven stopped to read the label on the case.

“‘Canon of the First Great War,’” Raven mused, exchanging the case in her hand for the top one of the stack in Vel’s hands.  “‘Xenan’s ‘Lives of the Patrons’.  ‘The Faded Path: The History of the Sacred Ring in Deceptica.’  ‘Is Anybody Receiving Me?: A Guide to Prayer and Devotions of the Ring.’”  With each title, Vel had slumped a fraction more.  “‘Concentrica and Other Disciplines of the High Ring.’”  Raven replaced the trax in Vel’s hands, a moment of expectant silence passing between them in the midst of the bustling Archive.

“Please, don’t tell Maman,” Vel whispered, feeling as if her cheeks would burst into flames.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Raven said evenly.  “A person’s beliefs are private matters.”  She tipped Vel’s chin up with gentle fingers.  “Even too private for mothers and daughters to share, sometimes.”

Guilty tears threatened to seep from the corners of Vel’s ruby optics.  “I’ve always believed what Maman has told me about Primus.  But—somehow, when we were at the Temple, things just clicked!” She smiled a tremulous smile.  “All my life, I’ve searched my memory banks for my father’s face.   Maman says she destroyed the only image she had of him—a State portrait created when I was very small—when she found out he was dead.  I’ve listened to Sirius and Destiny’s stories so many times, but even they don’t remember very much.”

Raven nodded.  “You’ve got to realize, they weren’t much older than you when Razorsharp brought all of you out of Darkmount.”

“I know.”  Vel sighed, shifting her grip on the cases.  “I’ve tried to imagine my life as it was before we left Darkmount, and I can’t do it. But this—” she indicated the trax with a nod—”this is finally something of my past that I can hold on to!  I’ve finally found something that will tell me who I am, where I came from, and what I ought to be doing!  Sirius and Destiny have found their calling, and now so have I.”

“You’re so young, Velocity,” Raven tried to reassure her, wondering what kind of damage control would be necessary when Razor got wind of Vel’s new attitude.  “You’ve got a lot of time to decide what to do with your life.”

Vel, for her part, lifted her chin proudly.  “I know what I am going to do with my life, Lady Raven.  I am going to be a student of Primus and the Patrons of the Ring.”

Something akin to relief flooded Raven’s circuits.  “Well, I am sure that your new found ideas will chafe Razor somewhat, but before long—”

“You misunderstand, Lady Raven,” Vel said, her voice and face schooled into an expression that Raven had often seen the late Governor wear.  It was a look that telegraphed cold certainty, one of unbending will and mastery of situation.  “When the Temple of Primus is rededicated, I plan to enter its halls as a novice.  Someday, just as Sirius will lead Deceptica’s armies with Destiny by his side, I shall offer prayers for their safety and success as Priestess of the High Ring.”

The High Ring.  Just the thought of it made Raven’s skin tingle.  She wasn’t sure if there was even anyone still functioning who worshipped at that level.  It required absolute dedication to the fundamental ideals of Deceptica: honor, glory, strength, courage, fortitude and the Empire, in the person of Primus.  And complete immersion in Decepticon culture and lifestyle, including the ancient language.  She studied Velocity closely.  “Do you know what you are proposing, here Velocity?  The depth of commitment?  Many followers of the High Ring never took mates or became progenitors.  It was never forbidden, but the level of dedication to Primus and the Patrons is intense.  Maybe too intense for a family.”

The young femme was unruffled.  “I am aware.  I spoke to Verinox at the Temple here.  He explained it to me.”

Raven chewed her lip a moment, then nodded.  “Very well.  In that case, you’re missing something.  Verinox may not realize that part of the High Ring required Old Decepticon.  Come back to the Archive with me.  I think I have just the trax for you.”



Raven felt her mantle flap behind her in the backwash of the landing ship.  She looked to her right quickly, making certain Cerise and Peregrine hadn’t grown bored and wandered off.  But they stood where she had put them, hands clasped as the ship hovered close.

Cerise was staring in consternation.  “It’s the Decepticons.”

“No it isn’t, Cherry,” Peregrine informed her.  “Maman said it was Aunty Razor and Mor-phae-us.”  He pronounced the unfamiliar name carefully.

“But look, Perry.  The ship has that other face on it.”

“So?” asked her brother.  “Maman has stuff like that.  It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Kup said the Decepticons would eat us alive.” Cerise fretted.

Raven sighed and raised an eyebrow at Rodimus.  He gave her a half-shrug and a reluctant nod, silently agreeing to speak to the older Security Chief again about how he spoke around the twins.

She turned back to face the children.  “Not long now, guys.  Okay?”

Cerise summoned up all her courage.  “Is it the Decepticons, Maman?”

“Aunty Razor and the Narali are Decepticons, yes, Cerise.  And they’re here to see how pretty the Temple is now, remember?”

“So no one’s gonna eat me?”

“They’d have to eat me and Daddy and Optimus Prime first.”

“No one’s that hungry,” Peregrine said innocently.

Rodimus laughed out loud.  “You’ve got that right, kiddo.  Anyone with that on their plate would walk away.”

Optimus chuckled softly, and Raven saw Elita lean back from Prime’s other side to flash her a quick smile.  There were together in uncharted water, raising the next generation of Autobots as far from the old prejudices as possible.  In the months that Razorsharp had been gone, Raven found herself growing closer to the femme leader who shared her vision of the future.  Elita had been bitter at first, when it became clear that Rodimus’ son would follow him as Bearer of the Matrix, rather than any child of hers.  But time and Optimus’ constant love had healed her pain and made it possible for her to reach out to Raven, who had been floundering after the seeming loss of her friend.

The shuttle touched down with an audible thump.  After a moment, a ramp extended and the hatch opened, revealing Narali Morphaeus.  He stepped out onto the ramp, then turned back and offered his hand to Lady Razorsharp, drawing her out and escorting her down the ramp.

“Can’t Aunty Razor walk by herself?” Cerise asked in a clear, carrying voice.

“Of course she can,” Peregrine insisted.  “It’s only that Morphaeus is being polite, Cerise.  Like not talking loud about things that don’t refer you.”  His voice was equally penetrating.

A stern look from Optimus Prime silenced them quickly.  Raven only turned and said softly, “It’s ‘concern,’ not ‘refer.’  And it’s grown-up time.”  The meant, of course, they had to stand still, pay attention, and answer any questions politely.  And of course, they hated every breem of it.

“Hail, Optimus Prime,” Morphaeus called as they approached the welcoming party.

“Narali Morphaeus.  Welcome back to Cybertron.”  They clasped forearms in a show of trust.

Morphaeus brought Razorsharp forward.  “You remember my bheancoran, Sarali Razorsharp, of course.”

Optimus brought a clenched fist to his chestplate.  “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Optimus Prime.  I am glad to be here.”

Optimus stepped back to present Elita.  “You both know my mate, of course.”

Elita and Razorsharp exchanged near-kisses.  “Welcome back, Razorsharp.  It hasn’t been the same without you.”

“Thank you, Elita,” Razor’s gratitude was quiet but sincere.

“Lady Elita,” Morphaeus said.  “Still as beautiful as you are deadly.”

She took the compliment with grace.  “Thank you, Narali.  It is good to see you again.”

Morphaeus moved over to Rodimus.  “Friend Rodimus.  You are looking well.”

“Well as can be expected, considering all the scut work I catch from the big office.”  He smiled roguishly.

“Lady Raven.  Optimus Prime, this planet is a treasure trove of enviable femmes.  You must utilize this resource carefully.”

“Well, I’d never thought of it that way,” he confessed, “but I’ll certainly remember it.”

Raven reached out to embrace Razorsharp.  “Z’herochl’ya, nibe.”

“Paldies.  Z’herochl’ya.”

“You look well.”

“Thank you.  As do you.”  Razorsharp looked around.  “Velocity did not wish to greet us?” she asked, frowning.

“She’s been at the Temple since the rites leading up to rededication began.  She promised me she would find you after the service.”

Razorsharp looked unimpressed.  “I will look for her then.”

“If we don’t start moving, she’ll find you here,” Rodimus said.  “We should probably leave, Optimus.”

“Indeed.  Narali, Sarali, this way, please.  We’ve arranged transportation out to the old city.”

They boarded a small commuter shuttle and were airborne within a breem, heading for Old Iacon.


An acolyte led them to the front row of the balcony, overlooking the Temple floor and the restored Path, with rows of pews installed outside its boundary lines.  Railings had been placed around each Patron’s icon to prevent them from being stepped on, and a wrought iron frame placed over the railing of the Primus Icon, providing a place for tapers and incense, as well as a small flame to light them.

Razorsharp caught a glimpse of it as she moved into place next to Morphaeus.  She stood dead still, blocking the entrance.  “What is that doing here?”

Raven nudged her to move on.  “It was found there during the restoration,” she said, taking her seat.

Razorsharp continued to stare down at the floor.  “Why wasn’t it…moved?”  It was clear that moving the ritual site would not have been her first choice of action had she discovered it.

Optimus leaned forward from his place farther down.  “Because I wanted it there.  Raven tells me the Path pre-dates the worship of Primus, as we know it.  Please, make yourself comfortable, Lady Razorsharp.”

She sat reluctantly, then cast a glance at Raven.  “You should have told me about this.”

Raven handed her a pre-programmed datapad of the service’s chants.  “I didn’t think you would be interested.”

With the guests of honor in place, Verinox appeared in front of the altar and began the service before Razorsharp could reply.


Razorsharp was stony through the service.  She sat and stood with the others, knelt and chanted when they did.  But she couldn’t tear her optics away from the polished Patron’s Path in the center of the Temple floor.

“You are not pleased to be here, My Lady,” Morphaeus whispered in her audio sensor.

“Not exactly,” she whispered back.  “I am not please to see that down there, marring the beauty of this sacred place.”  She jerked her chin toward the floor.

“I remember the rites to the Patrons.  Lady Raven is correct in that it pre-dates our present mode of worship,” he murmured.  “I did not say I followed the Path.  I only acknowledge it as another form of worship.”

“The time for it is over, My Lord.  We should move forward in all aspects of our lives, not back.”

“You would deny Raven her right to worship as she chooses?”

“She may do as she wishes.  But I do not like to see it mixed with the pure worship of Primus.  It simply seems wrong to me.”

Verinox faced the congregation from behind the altar, raising his arms.  “I call now on the postulants to Primus to come forward at this time and offer their vows as novices.”  A row of white-robed forms stood as one and moved to kneel before the altar, chanting their vows in unison.

“I did not realize there would be so many this quickly,” Morphaeus whispered to Optimus Prime.

The back of Razorsharp’s neck began to tingle.  She had not seen Velocity anywhere in the balcony as they entered, and now, with a complete view of the floor, she realized that she could not see her daughter in the crowd below, either.

“Verinox informed me that one postulant in particular has been especially dedicated,” Prime was replying.  “She’s apparently taking additional vows today along with those of a standard novice.”

Razor was desperate to stop them, to halt the service, but there was no way, nothing she could do, and if she were wrong, the affront to Optimus Prime and the Autobots would be incalculable.  She sat frozen as the old priest of Primus continued.

“We welcome the new servants of Primus into our fellowship and dedicate them to His care.”  The new novices rose as one and filed back to their pew, leaving one of their number waiting at the altar.  “I invite now all who follow the Path of the Patrons to come forward and celebrate together as we welcome the first student of the High Ring.”

Razorsharp watched as a few Autobots rose from places in the pews below to cross the lines into the ring, and felt more than heard Raven rise from beside her, collecting the twins as she slipped over to the stairs and made her way down, eventually coming to stand at the front of the small group gathering just behind the remaining novice.  The novice turned to join them, the hood of her robe obscuring her face, and Razor growled in frustration.

They broke into smaller groups, moving toward different icons and surrounded them, palm to palm around each icon.  Razor heard them whispering prayers, occasionally picking out words from the mix of seven different prayers all recited at once.  Them they would break apart and move to different icons, forming new groups, but reciting in the same manner as those before them had.  When they all reached the center, they stood in a single ring around the railing, lighting tapers or incense and setting them into holders, them linked palms again.  The novice broke from the group and went to stand just below the dais where the altar rested.  She lifted her arms and head skyward, and Razorsharp saw her daughter’s face clearly for the first time that day.

    “Primus, Lord of All
    You have heard out pleas.
    Through your servants,
    Grant our desires
    And grant that we may
    Seek to serve and please you.”

Velocity repeated the prayer in flawless Old Decepticon, and Razorsharp rose slowly to her feet, claws digging into the railing in front of her.  It was on the tip of her tongue to cry out, to stop what was happening, when Morphaeus caught her elbow and pulled her back.

“Do not do this,” he whispered urgently.

“But, Velocity-”

“I will order you if I must.  Do not shame me, Razorsharp.“

She landed in the pew beside him, stiff and silent as Verinox wrapped up the service then stood with the others, wrapped in an almost visible blanket of chill.  She followed them outside, then waited until the remainder of the congregation filed out.  The novices were near the end of the procession, and in a flash, she reached out and pulled Velocity from their ranks.

“And just when were you going to tell me?”

Vel removed and folded her robe calmly and handed it to an acolyte.  “What’s done is done, Maman.  I have already taken my vow.”

Razor was furious.  “They are only novice vows.  Nothing is done that cannot be undone.  And it will be undone, let me assure you.”

Raven touched her arm.  “It’s her choice, Razorsharp.  She has dedicated herself to the studies.”

“And with your encouragement every step of the way, no doubt.”  Razor clenched her fists, her entire frame taut with anger.  “Is it not enough that your own children follow your path?  Must you take mine from me as well?”

Velocity was aghast.  “Maman!”

Razor whirled on her daughter, as close to losing complete control as Rodimus had ever seen her.  “You will be silent!”

Her optics wide, Velocity backed up a step, then turned and ran from the narthex.  Rodimus turned on her mother, his anger rising as well.  “What did you do that for?”

Raven drew back, optics cold.  “You left her in our care.  And I assure you, she came to this decision before speaking to me about it.”

“Look, she doesn’t need your criticism,” Rodimus pointed out.  “She needs your support.  If you can’t do that, then just be cold and aloof.  She probably won’t notice.”

Now Raven was aghast.  “Rodimus.”

Morphaeus stepped forward before Razorsharp could respond.  “This is supposed to be a day of joy, My Lady.  Your daughter has found her calling.  If the Lady Raven’s beliefs sparked something in Velocity, should you not rejoice?”  He set his hands on her shoulders.  “This is a noble undertaking, equally noble to that of her brother and sister.”

To Rodimus’ surprise, Razorsharp relaxed, but only a little.  The femme seemed to settle her boiling anger to a simmer at the touch of her mate’s hands.  “She is much too young to decide the course of her life,” Razor protested.

“She has completed her secondary studies,” Raven told them, “with exemplary marks in all her courses.  She certainly gives the appearance of knowing what it best for her.  And I told her you would not approve.  It hardly fazed her.  I, for one, am proud that she is willing to revive the ancient ways.  We need more like her dedicated to the service of the Patrons.”

Rodimus raised his hands in a ‘time-out’ gesture.  “Look, this isn’t the place for us to get into this kind of theological discussion,” he murmured into the knot of his friends,  “We’re beginning to attract attention, and I doubt that this would look good for you, Narali.”

Morphaeus gave Razor’s shoulders a gentle squeeze.  “He is right, My Lady.  If you wish to press the point further, it would be best to continue in private.”

“Then in private it will have to be.  I am NOT content to let this issue lie.”


Once the door to the small conference room closed, Razorsharp whirled on Raven.

“How could you allow this to happen?  You were supposed to be watching her for me!”

“I have been watching her for you, Razorsharp, and I’ve been doing it a lot longer than you think!  I warned you vorns ago, that she was lonely, and you ignored me.  I told you she was not like the others, and you dismissed me.  I begged you to bury the dead and celebrate with the children the happy memories of your shared history and you refused.  I tried to give Velocity what she wanted with stories of a strong, noble father, and you shut me out.  You tried to forbid me from contacting them so I would not taint them with my ‘indecision.’  You turned me into forbidden fruit.  Sirius and Destiny were old enough to stay on the path you made for them.  But Velocity is different and I don’t think you’ve ever seen that.  I’m proud of what she is doing.  I pray everyday to Rhyah to help her, to guide her, to lift her spirit when she feels overwhelmed.  All I ever wanted is for her to find her place.”

“She needs nothing from you,” Razorsharp insisted.  “I am her mother.  I decide what is in her best interests.”

“She needs a father-figure.  I’ve been working since Sirius left to get her to open up to Rodimus, to talk to him like a femme would talk to her father.  And it’s been working.  But your misplaces temper-tantrum may have ruined everything.”

“Why am I not surprised that you have dragged him into this heresy, this blasphemy?”

The blue started to fade from Raven’s violet optics, letting the red seep through.  “Don’t say that again.”

“What?  That you’re a blasphemous heretic who’s dragging the next generation to Chaos with you?  That you whored yourself to the Prince Prime to fulfill your delusions of grandeur?  If you can’t be the mother of the Decepticon heir, why not the Autobot?  Do I even have to ask how you convinced Optimus Prime to leave your Chaos-Walk in place?  Do you imagine him in your berth at night instead of Rodimus?”

It was only providence that prevented all-out war between the femmes.  The door slid open and Rodimus entered, having left the twins with Optimus, followed by Morphaeus.  Rod watched the last of the blue light fade from Raven’s optics, leaving them a glowing crimson.  He watched in seeming slow motion as she raised her hand and lashed out at Razorsharp’s sneering face.

He charged forward, lowering a shoulder and plowing into her low in the chest.  They staggered back several steps, far enough for Raven’s clawed fingers to pass mere micrometers from Razor’s skin.

“Get her out of here!” he shouted hoarsely, fighting Raven’s wiry strength to hold her back against the wall.  She was snarling, claws slashing futilely at the air.  “They’ll kill each other like this.  Just take her somewhere else and get her calmed down.”  He twisted his hips, avoiding a potentially debilitating knee to the groin.  “Jeez, don’t do that, Raven.  You’ll regret it later if it works.”  He heard hissing and scuffling behind his back, then the sound of the door opening and closing.  He waited as the snarling wound down, then carefully released her.

Raven lashed out at him, claws tearing at his armor-plated forearms, and he let her, face turned away to keep from catching a stray blow.  Eventually, the blows grew further apart and the harsh breathing turned to sobs.  Sighing, he gathered her close to cry on his shoulder, and she locked her arms around him as thought she was afraid of being lost.

“Shhh, shhh,” he whispered, rocking her gently.  “It’s gonna be all right.  It’s gonna be all right.”



Raven frowned when she answered the frantic chime of the door and saw Razorsharp.  She dragged up the sleeves of her heavy wrapper to expose pale arms.

“If you’re here to tell me again how I’m leading my children and your daughter to the Great Smelter with heresy and blasphemy, it can wait.  We’re never going to agree on the subject, and if we have to fight about it, I’d like some more sleep first.”

“I’m dead,” Razorsharp responded, apropos of nothing.

Raven leaned against the doorjamb, studying the Decepticon from wolf’s-head boots to metal-swathed helmet.  “Then you have the distinction of being the most functional corpse I’ve ever seen.  Congratulations.”

“If I return to Drolma III, I’ll be arrested and executed.  No trial by judge, jury or combat.  Just taken into custody and killed within days, if not cycles.  You have to help me.”

Raven grimaced.  “Me?  The blasphemous heretic who’s dragging the next generation to Chaos with her?  How could I possibly help you?  What was is again that I did?  ‘Whored myself to the Prince Prime to fulfill my delusions of grandeur?’”  She snorted and tossed her curling hair out of her optics.  You want my help?  Stay on Cybertron.  They can’t touch you here.”

“When my lord returns for the election, I must be with him.”  She pushed past Raven into the room.  “When that time comes, I must have enough evidence of my innocence to get a hearing; a very loud, very public hearing.  My only chance is to have the charges brought out where I can refute them.”

“What did you do now?” a voice asked from across the room.

Raven looked over to see Rodimus leaning in the doorway to the recharge chamber much as she leaned against the main entrance,

Razorsharp dipped her head respectfully.  “Forgive me, Rodimus Prime.  It was not my intention to disturb you with this business.”

“Hard to believe, Sarali Razorsharp, when you’re ringin’ my doorbell in the middle of the night.”

“My apologies.  I will speak to the Commander at a more opportune—”

He waved off her apology.  “Sit down, Razorsharp.  I’m going to hear this either way.  It may as well be first hand.”  He looked over at Raven and tiled his head toward the room.  She moved out of the doorway, allowing the door to slide shut, but leaned against the wall, unwilling to approach the Deceptifemme who had so venomously excoriated her earlier.

Rodimus settled on a sofa with a sigh.  “You have a lot of something, Razor, be it guts or gall, showing up here like this.”

“I won’t apologize for stating my opinion,” she said stiffly, “though I may have been… overzealous in making my point.”

“‘Whore?’” he asked blandly.

“I regret my choice of words.  I said it in anger.”  She looked over to Raven.  “Soq Hut.”

Raven nodded after a moment and went to sit next to Rodimus, placing herself between her mate and the Decepticon.

“Now that that’s settled,” Rodimus said, draping an arm around Raven’s shoulders, “what have you done this time?”

Razorsharp sat on the edge of the chair, clutching her arms tightly to her frame.  “My crime struck at the heart of what the Empire holds dear; it was my own personal revolt against the tenet of ‘peace through tyranny.’”

Rodimus sighed.  “A little less mystery, if you please, Sarali.”

The answer was barely audible.  “I conspired to kill my master,” Razorsharp whispered, hanging her head in shame.

“What?!” Rod was on his feet too quickly even for Raven to stop him. Without thinking, Rodimus yanked her up out of her seat, his huge hands gripping her around her biceps.  To his surprise, Razorsharp crumpled in his hands, only able to stay on her feet with his support.  “Are you telling me that after all we did for you, that you were going to kill Morphaeus?” he snarled.  “Even after what that monster Solarus did to Raven? I take it back; I should have handed you over to him, trussed like a Thanksgiving turkey, the moment he landed!”

“Stop!” Raven barked from across the room, scrambling to get between them.  “Rod, let go of her!”

Razorsharp’s head snapped up, horror on her harlequined face.  “No! I would never wish harm on the Narali!” she cried, her voice full of anguish.

“Then what the hell is this about?” The tall mech narrowed his sapphire gaze at Razorsharp.  ”Stop talking in circles, Razorsharp.”

“For Rhyah’s sake, Rodimus, she’ll tell you if you’ll only let her!”  With her calm, steady hand on his arm, Raven succeeded in convincing him to let go of Razorsharp, though she made no other move to aid her former friend.  “What do you mean, Razor?”

Sinking back to the chair, Razor kept her gaze on the floor.  “I meant my former master.  The Governor.”

Rodimus made a revolving motion with his hand.  Keep going.   He settled back on the sofa and Raven sat next to him.

“Toward the end of our life together, His Excellency and I did not see things in the same light,” Razorsharp began by way of explanation, still not daring to look up at the mech’s angry face.  ”Especially when we had the children, we rarely shared the same point of view.”

Raven folded her arms across her chest with a harrumph.  “Rodimus and I don’t always see optic to optic, but that doesn’t make me want to run out and put an axe in his cranium.”  At his frown, she shrugged.  “Well, not recently anyway.”

With the barest of smiles, Razorsharp continued.  “This was no simple lovers’ quarrel.  You, Raven, know firsthand how single-minded His Excellency was about his duty to the Empire.  There was, however, a part of him so ruthless as to murder his own children, should they get in his way.”

Tugging her mate down beside her, Raven sat forward as she listened.  “Did he ever threaten you or the children?  If indeed you had conspired to kill him, it could be said that you saw no other recourse.”

Razor shook her head. “No, he never threatened the children.  He did love them, in his own way.”  She sighed, again studying the floor between her boots.  “No, this was my own malicious act, one I regretted instantly.”  At this, Razorsharp brought her hands to her face, trying to collect herself enough to tell the terrible truth. ”I was drawn to the darkness in my master, tried to make myself a part of it, but he kept me at arm’s length.”  Tears began to leak down Razor’s cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands to try and stop them.  “I loved him with all of my soul, and yet...and yet...”

“And yet, you feared him.” Raven’s words were like pebbles in a still pond.  Razor broke into silent sobs, her slender body wracked with shame, as Raven glanced up at Rod.  The Prince Prime did nothing except to continue to study Razor as if weighing her story, and Raven sighed inwardly.  “So, you decided to take action?”

Nodding, Razorsharp made an effort to compose herself.  “I knew I had to leave.  His ambition stopped for no one; his aims conceded nothing.  I realized such a split would never be an amicable one.”  She raised her head, methanol traces shining on her harlequined face.  “In my own skewed perception, I suppose I would have contrived to make it look like an accident, or during a skirmish.”  She chuckled bitterly. “How foolish I was.  Both of those scenarios were vastly beyond my powers.  I had been under surveillance all along.  If I had tried, I would be dead and my children’s lives forfeit just the same.”

“Thank Primus for small mercies,” Rodimus muttered, speaking for the first time since his outburst.  “You know, Razor, you could have told us this a long time ago, and spared us all the drama.”

Stiffening, Razorsharp regained a modicum of her usual proud facade.  “I wished to maintain at least some of my dignity.  I was humbled enough to come to Optimus Prime in the first place.”  She smiled her enigmatic smile.  “Optimus had every right to call Kup and ask him to lock me up and delete the access code.  I am forever indebted to both Optimus and his Autobots.”

“You still haven’t answered the question, though,” he pointed out.  “Why, if it’s Straxus who you wanted to kill—and I believe he’s gotten himself a good case of dead all on his own—are you being charged now?”

“Because the crime—or even the intimation—of a bheancoran plotting to murder her master.... is punishable by death.”  Raven’s words were leaden and cold.  “Morphaeus is not without enemies, being an autocrat, even if he is elected to the post.  Rali Solarus’ sympathizers are still out there, most likely lying in wait for such a chance. This news will be cause for dancing in the streets on Drolma II.”  

The machinations of a huge political machine began to lay itself out as Raven spoke, and Rodimus knew with sudden dread that dealing with Rali Solarus had only been the tip of the iceberg.  He waited for Raven to jump in again, to declare her faith in Razorsharp and insist that she wouldn’t rest until the Decepticon was exonerated.  But she sat stiff and stubbornly silent next to him, and he rushed to fill the awkward silence.

“Okay, Razorsharp.  This is going to take some serious thinking about.  Why don’t we talk some more tomorrow—”  He glanced at the chronometer on the wall.  “—or today rather, after regular duty shift?  Raven and I both have to be up in a few cycles.”

Razorsharp’s hand flashed out and caught Raven by the wrist.  “Say you’ll help me,” she demanded.  “If you tell you that you will help me, then I know that somehow you will get me out of this.”

Raven looked at her for a moment, then pulled her wrist away silently.  She stood and walked away from them, over to the sliding doors to the balcony and stared out into the darkness.

Rodimus looked at her, then turned back to the agonized Razorsharp.  “Let me talk to her before you go off half-cocked.  But Razor, you’ve probably managed to stomp all over every big red ‘stop’ button she had.  I don’t know how inclined she’s going to be to work with you.  You might be left with remaining on Cybertron for your own safety.  I know Optimus won’t allow himself to be pressured into returning you to the Drolma system.  And you know, it’s not the end of the world.”

Razorsharp stood reluctantly.  “No.  But once again, it will be where I go when I cannot be with my lord.  It makes being here… painful, at best.”    

He ushered her to the door.  “I’ll talk to you later, okay?  Try not to give up hope.  We’re not necessarily out yet.”

“Thank you, Rodimus Prime.  I will try to endure.”

Rodimus watched the door slide closed, shutting Razorsharp on the outside.  “You were pretty harsh there at the end, at least where you and Razorsharp are concerned.”

Raven didn’t turn away from the view.  “Oh?”

He moved to join her.  “Yeah.  I expected you to jump into the fray.  ‘All for one and one for all.’  That kind of thing.  ‘Death before dishonor.’”

She sighed.   “Maybe that’s all she has left.  If those conspiring against her make it known that she plotted to kill the Governor, her life may as well be over.  She will have no honor, and her word no value.”

“Even if it could be proved she didn’t?”

“It doesn’t matter.  She has admitted it in front of witnesses.”

“Mental duress, maybe?  Fear for her children’s lives, her own life?”

“To a bheancoran, nothing is more sacred than the life of her liege.  She will defend him against all attackers; throw her weaponless body into an enemy horde to buy him a moment to escape.  Plotting to kill him is unthinkable.  When she called me a heretic, she mocked everything I believe in.  Now she’s done the same for herself, and I don’t really know of any way to help her.  I don’t know if I want to.”

“You two have been friends a long time.  It seems a shame to throw it away now.”

“We have never exchanged words so designed to hurt before.  Not everything can be forgiven and forgotten.  If she returns and faces execution, who’s to say it is not what was meant to be?”

“Raven, if we’re the good guys, we have to be the good guys all the time.  We can’t just let her die.”

“I’m not saying she has to.  It is her choice to return to Drolma III or remain on Cybertron.  I… would not deny her that.”

He heard the hesitation in her voice,  “But…?”

“But I would miss Velocity.  I like her, Rodimus.  She’s like a combination daughter/younger sister.  Young enough to teach, and old enough to understand.”

“Cerise and Peregrine will be old enough soon to understand,” he reassured her.

“But it won’t be the same for them.  Deceptica is nothing but fairy tales and ancient history to them.  It lives and breathes for Velocity.”

“Because you make it live.  You can make it live for them, too.”  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest as they stared out at the night.  “Come back to bed.  We’ll do a little looking in the morning and see if there aren’t some more options for Razorsharp.  But no one is going to make either of you do anything you don’t want to do.”


Optimus Prime sighed heavily.  “This is a fine mess.”

Rodimus nodded.  “It is.  And Raven is usually Razor’s biggest supporter.  Now it’s like she can’t stand to be in the same room with her.  Frankly, I’m worried about Razorsharp’s chances without Raven.  They have an understanding that allows them to pull each other’s fat out of the fire.”  He chuckled dryly.  “Raven usually reminds me that she’s not fat whenever I say that.  Like I’d forget or something.”

Optimus allowed himself a small secret smile.  Roddy’s every spare thought was filled with Raven and the children.  She had stabilized the young mech better than she knew.  Rodimus Prime, supportive-mate-and-father would be a much better leader when the time came than Hot-Rod-with-the-Matrix.  The Autobot leader still found himself thinking of her paternalistically despite her desire to remain aloof.  “So you don’t think we should push her to help Lady Razorsharp?”

“Optimus, I don’t think we can.  I know her.  If we push, she’ll push back, hard.  I don’t believe she would actively work against us, but it wouldn’t yield any results, and we’ll be right where we are now.  But I think it we give her some time and space, Raven will come around on her own.”

“When?”

“A week, maybe, or a few days.  Tomorrow, if we’re very lucky.  A lot of it depends on… well, things.”  Optimus raised an eyebrow, and Rod knew he had to elaborate.  “I want to put her first, Optimus, but the best interest of the Autobots and Cybertron keep cutting in line.  And I love her, Optimus, I really do.”  He sighed in exasperation.  “There are a number of signals she’ll give off, stuff that’s probably pretty subtle to anyone else, but like I said, I know her.  It’s in how she’ll walk and how she’ll talk; how she interacts with the kids, how she sleeps.  A hundred little things that add up to something on her mind.”

Optimus sat still for a moment, stunned by the impassioned speech.  “Okay, then.  Manage it however you think best, but we’re working with a time limit here, Roddy.  Start looking into alternatives on your own.  Treaties, trade agreements, anything like that.  We have to find some way to allow Lady Razorsharp to return to Drolma III and protect her at the same time.”

“Yeah, and it would be nice if she and Raven made up, too.”

“One miracle at a time.”



Rodimus poured through the proposed Drolma Agreement in his office, searching for loopholes that could aid Razorsharp.  His optics blurred over the time text and he powered them down, tossing the datapad on his desk and tilting back in his chair. He hardly needed the file to review the document; he’d been present while the details were worked out and had written half of it himself.  And it was tight.  She could be recalled to Cybertron if needed, subject to the approval of Morphaeus, but on Drolma III, she was subject to their laws and system of justice.  It wasn’t the great solution Optimus Prime wanted.

A chime at his door brought him back from the edge of recharge, and he cursed softly.  The treaty search must have chewed up more time than I thought if Raven’s here already.  Accessing his internal chronometer, he discovered that rather than him being late, Raven was considerably earlier than she had anticipated.  “Come on in, Hon,” he called.  “I was just resting my optics,” he continued as the door slid open.

“Rodimus Prime?  I am sorry.  Clearly you were expecting your mate.  We can—”

Rod’s chair crashed forward and he ended up sprawled across the desk at the sound of Razorsharp’s voice.  “No, no.  Come in.  I was actually planning to come speak with you in a little while.”  He scrambled up and ushered Razorsharp in, followed closely by Morphaeus.  “It’s good to see you again, Narali.  I’m sorry the circumstances keep winding up to badly when you visit.  You’re going to end up wanting to be at the far end of the galaxy from us at this rate.”

“Perhaps you will wish to run when you learn we are coming.”  The joke fell flat, and he pressed on awkwardly.  “I am most grateful to you for taking time to see us unannounced.  I could not convince My Lady to wait any longer for word.”

“It’s fine, really.”  He waved them towards the chairs.  “Please, have a seat.”  He settled back into his chair as they did the same.  “I don’t want to keep you hanging, but I need to be sure we’re on the same page.  Narali, are you aware of the…severity of Lady Razorsharp’s situation?”  Morphaeus nodded, and Rod pressed ahead quickly.  “I’m afraid I don’t have much good news at this point.  All I can say is that Optimus Prime is committed to finding some way to protect you,” he told her.

“I am grateful for his concern.  May I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“My top level security codes are no longer valid.  Is that related to this issue?”

Rodimus looked distinctly unhappy.  “No.  Not really.  That was Kup’s idea.  He brought it to the Council within days of you departure, and managed to sell Springer and ‘Magnus on the idea.  It’s not that either of them distrusts you, but they had to admit that it was bad policy for someone not under our direct supervision to have that kind of clearance.  And of course, if you decide to remain on Cybertron, we’ll make sure they get re-established, even if I have to drive Kup half-crazy with nagging.”

“You said if she decides to remain?” Morphaeus queried.

“It is Lady Razorsharp’s choice, of course.  But I would urge you strongly to remain here,” he said, looking at her.  “I know it’s not what you want, but as long as you are alive, there is a chance to clear you.  If they execute you, that’s it.  Game over; thank you for playing.  And I’m just not ready to accept that yet.”

“Has Lady Raven had any success?” Morphaeus asked.

Rodimus looked down at his clasped hands on the desktop.  He felt like someone had handed him a knife and ordered him to stick it in a friend’s guts.  “I haven’t asked her to look at this point.  We’re not done with the other avenues of inquiry yet.”

“Please do not tell me you are deliberately ignoring resources in this investigation.  I would be very disappointed.”  His voice was soft, but the implied threat was loud and clear.

“Not at all,” Rodimus assured him.  “I’ve gone through this with Optimus already, and he’s on board.  If we force Raven to work on this right now, she’ll dutifully go through the motions, come up with nothing useful and despise some of us forever.”

“She hates me already,” Razorsharp pointed out.  “I have nothing left to lose on that front.”

“I don’t think it’s hate. I think she’s feeling hurt, confused and betrayed.  And it’s not as much that catfight between the two of you over Velocity as you would think.  It was more the business of…well, of trying to kill Straxus that really set her off.  He was kind to her brother, and she was fond of him for that.  But you gutted something she believes in when you told her about it.  Not that I blame you.  He sounds like a tough guy to live with.”  He sighed deeply, suddenly aware of his new trend toward long-windedness.  “Look, I think she’ll come around eventually, and if not, I’m willing to ask her about it in a couple of days.  But right now, it isn’t going to help in the least.”

“Is there anything to be said or done that would bring Lady Raven around sooner?” Morphaeus asked, laying a hand on Razorsharp’s back.

“I’m afraid not, Narali.  She had to do this all on her own.  But when she’s ready to fight it, she’ll be Hellas on wheels and impossible to stop.  Smart money will have all the details she’ll need ready so she can make the most of whatever time is left.”

Morphaeus nodded slowly.  “I will cultivate patience, then.  But if there are no changes in the situation soon, I will request a meeting with Lady Raven and ask her to consider helping us.  I hope, should that become necessary, you would join us, in a show of solidarity.”

Rodimus leaned back, studying the Decepticon couple.  They were asking a lot, trying to enlist his aid in convincing Raven.  He was the one who would be left to deal with the repercussions should they succeed.  But they were asking, fighting the Decepticon habit of taking what was needed or demanding cooperation.  They were bending in the midst of a hurricane.  He could afford to bend if it would preserve the fragile peace.

“All right.  If my way doesn’t work, I’d be a fool not to try yours.  You’re willing to give her a few days, then?”

“I do not know if I possess that much patience.  Had I my own way, I would seek her at the beginning of her next duty shift,” Morphaeus replied.

“I have to give her some time, Morphaeus, or I’m gonna find myself sleeping on the sofa.”

Razorsharp translated when Morphaeus’ optic ridge went up.  “It’s a human term.  If Raven becomes angry enough, she will not consent to having Rodimus in the recharge berth with her.”

“That would present a certain amount of inconvenience, of course…”

“My Lord, she would not consent to having anything to do with Rodimus.”

Understanding dawned on Morphaeus.  “Ahh…I see.  That is considerably more than inconvenient.”

“Yeah, well, right now, it’s neither here nor there.  I think if she hasn’t changed her mind by the day after tomorrow, we can plan to try something else.  Until then, all we can do is keep our fingers crossed.”

“Humans do it for luck,” Razor supplied.  “They also do so when they wish to lie, for some reason.  But humans can be strange sometimes.”

“Indeed,” Morphaeus agreed.  “Thank you for your time, Rodimus Prime.  I hope you will have good news for us soon.”

“Me, too, Narali.  Don’t give up hope, Razorsharp.  We’ve only scratched the surface here.”  He was escorting them to the door when it slid open and Raven came in.  Her optics went flat the moment she saw Razorsharp.

“I’m sorry, Rodimus.  I didn’t realize you were busy.  I’ll wait outside.”

He took her wrist and pulled her in.  “No, that’s all right.  Narali Morphaeus and Lady Razorsharp were just leaving.  I’ll contact you tomorrow with any information, Narali.”

“Again, thank you, Rodimus Prime.  Lady Raven.”  Morphaeus stepped back, leaving the view between the femmes unobstructed.

“Narali Morphaeus.  Sarali.”  It was the bare minimum Raven could say to acknowledge her.  She looked away abruptly when Razorsharp touched Rod’s hand.

“Thank you, friend.”

“I’m glad to help,” he replied.

“What was she doing here?” Raven asked pointedly after the door closed.

“Looking for a solution to her problem.”

“She has a solution; remain on Cybertron.”

Rodimus pulled every thread of patience he could muster around himself.  “Okay,” he replied evenly.  “She’s looking for another solution.  One where she can live safely wherever she chooses.”

“And who made you the patron of disgraced bheancorans?”

“Optimus Prime,” he answered evenly.

“Oh, fine!”  She dropped into a chair.  “He wants me to work on this, doesn’t he?”

“Yep.”

“And they want to on it, too?”

He shrugged.  “You’re the best at this.”

She snorted.  “Flattery will get you nowhere.”  She looked up at him.  “What do you want?”

The trap was quivering open now.  The only question was who was going to fall in.  “I want you to do what you think is best.”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want to sleep in the sofa.”

He counted to ten, a trick he’d seen Optimus use.  “No, I don’t want to sleep on the sofa.  I want to sleep with you.  But that is not the point right now.  I have spent today making pretty big promises to Optimus and Morphaeus to buy you some time to think.  Now if you really think about it and can’t bring yourself to help, fine.  Tell me how you do it, and I’ll find the… whatever it is that will save Razorsharp.  But if you can find it somewhere in yourself to forgive her for this, it would be so much better for everyone, including you.”  He checked his chronometer.  “I have to run.  Optimus wants to know what I’ve found before I quit for the day.”  He kissed her quickly on the cheek, then retrieved his datapad from the desk.  “I’ll see you later.”  He was out the door before she could think of a reply to anything he’d said.


He returned to his quarters only to discover chaos rearing its ugly and all-too-familiar head.

The twins were racing around the main room, whooping like characters in some early American western film he watched once.

“I got you, Perry.  You’re supposed to fall down when I get you!”

“No, you didn’t, Cherry!  Your perceptual ‘cuity leave much to be required!”  

Rodimus scooped up Cerise in the act of tackling her brother.  “Hey!  No roughhousing indoors.  And I think you mean desired, Peregrine.  Where’d you hear that, anyway?”  He let Cerise scramble further up until she was perched happily on his shoulders, reaching for the ceiling.  It struck him as strange that his land-bound daughter was always looking to go higher, while Peregrine, who showed all the signs of inheriting an avian form similar to his mother’s, hated heights.

“Perceptor said it to Grimlock.  Then Grimlock went and bit a big hole in the target.  It was cool.”

Rod chuckled.  “Well, watch out for that big bozo.  He might step on a little squirt like you and never notice.”

“Grimlock’s no bozo, Daddy,” Cerise declared, nearly bouncing his shoulders out of joint.  “Grimlock’s the king!”

“Hey, ow!”  Rodimus let her slither carefully to the floor.  “Those are my only shoulders there, Cherry.  Don’t go breaking them or Daddy will have to walk around without arms.”  He set his databook down near the terminal unit on the desk.  “Where’s your mom?”

“I’m right here,” Raven said, emerging from the children’s recharge chamber.  “I am so glad to see you,” she continued, pecking him on the cheek.  “Can you take the kids and their stuff down to Rec 4?  There’s some juvenile rite of passage known as a slumber party tonight, involving disgusting amounts of sweetened energon and staying up late watching bad vids.  I have the stuff packed, but I haven’t done anything about the evening meal.”

“No problem.  And don’t worry about dinner.  I’ll get take-out.”  He caught her confused expression and explained.  “I’ll stop at the mess and pick up rations there.”

“Oh.  Take-out.”  She laughed.  “Every time I think I’ve heard every human expression, you come up with another.”

“Have to do something to keep you guessing.  Primus knows you’re too smart for a mech like me.”  He leaned in to kiss her, and the children, who had followed the discussion closely until then, groaned in disgust.

“Ewww… Daddy, Maman, you’re doing it again!”

“That’s right,” Rodimus laughed, turning to face them.  “And if you two don’t get a move on, I just might have to kiss your mother some more, seeing as I have nothing better to do with my time, like take you to a sleep-over.”

They scrambled to collect the gear Raven had packed, then lined up at the door, shoving each other in good-natured enthusiasm.  Rodimus kissed Raven once more to their horror.

“Daddy, can we go?  We’re bein’ good an’ everything,” Cerise pleaded.

“All right, all right.  Any last instructions for the troops?” he asked Raven.

“They know what to do.  Have a good time,” she said, kissing them each on the top of the head.

“I won’t be long,” Rod said as children intent on witnessing no more displays of affection dragged him out.

“I’ll be here.”


He returned to find her at the terminal, VR visor in place, hands dancing in a silent ballet of files and links.  He hated using the visor himself, unwilling to dive that deeply into the machinery and lose contact with reality.  But Raven, with her programming and training in virtual navigation, found the external face of the network cold, and immersed in it fully whenever required to search for information.  He set the meals down as she reached high over her head then brought them down as though she were emerging from a pool of liquid.  A moment later, she removed the visor, smiling when she saw him.

“Hey!  I didn’t hear you come in.”  She set her visor down and came over to kiss him.  Then, formalities out of the way, she settled on the sofa and opened the meal container.  “Yet another example of what I didn’t know could be done with energon.”

“I’m not sure what it’s supposed to be,” Rodimus confessed, joining her, “but it was ready to go, so I didn’t argue.”

Raven tried a bite of the unfamiliar concoction. “Well, it’s not bad.  Did the kids have any problems?”

“Nope.  They ran in and joined the melee.  Some company on Earth apparently thought we were an untapped market for feather-stuffed pillows, and sent up an oversized lot for testing.  They were all hitting each other with them when I left.”

She smiled.  “They’re going to be a mess tomorrow.  I’m glad they’re having fun, though.  I never went to a slumber party as a child.”

“It’s another of those things we picked up on Earth, so you’re not the only one.”  He chewed on his meal for a moment.  “What were you working on?” he asked casually.

She gave him the patented ‘You’re-Such-An-Idiot’ look, also known as Decepticon Superiority #3 and kept eating.

“Okay, fine.  I know what you’re doing, and you don’t want to talk about it right now.  I’m just...glad you’re doing it at all.”

“I don’t know why everyone expects me to turn up some kind of miracle.  I’m just going over the Archive, since no one else with access knows it as well.”

She’d heard then, he knew, that Razorsharp’s codes had been deleted.  “Oh, I don’t know.  Omicron Rho, Reuter V, Charr.  You have a good track record.”

“I failed on Charr.  I couldn’t upload the data in any meaningful form.  It was all jumbled trash.”

“You went, though.  You put yourself out there and did what needed to be done.”

“And nearly got killed for nothing.  I wouldn’t have made it back to Cybertron without-”  She broke off, suddenly very interested in her food.

“Razorsharp saved your bacon there, didn’t she?”

“Maybe she felt like she owed me for Omicron Rho.  I saved hers there.”

“Maybe,” Rodimus said, “just maybe, when you’re friends with someone, you stop worrying about whose turn it is to save the other’s ass.”

She shook her head.  “It’s not that.  It’s…I can’t believe she would try to kill Straxus.  It’s just ugly to me.  Straxus was….”

“What, you had a crush on him or something?”  It was painful to consider, but if accounts were true, he would have been an attractive figure to any young Deceptifemme.

“No!  Never!” she insisted.  “He was too much, too high to even consider such a thing.  He was a miracle for my family, a guardian angel.  He lifted my brother out of obscurity.  I never would have met Fire-Eyes without his help.  He was….”

“Your own personal savior,” Rod supplied.  “And it hurts that she wanted to kill your private god.”

“Yes, it hurts.  And I wonder if she tried hard enough to please him.  Then I remember that he was probably as demented in his own way as Galvatron is.  It’s just so…confusing.”  She sighed, pushing her half-full tray away.  “Anyway, it’s pointless.  There’s nothing of use in the Archive.  But I may have to go down and pick through the hard copy.  There seems to be stuff missing, and I don’t know if it’s really gone or just not entered yet.”  She stood and stretched, arms overhead, back arched until she was nearly folded in half.  “I’m going to turn in.  Maybe something will come to me tomorrow.”

“All right.  I’ll be along in a bit.”  Once she left the room, he clenched a fist in victory.  Now it was just a matter of letting her do her work.  Something was bound to happen.  Somehow, Raven would make it happen.


Rodimus woke up alone sometime in the night.  He lay still for a moment, audio sensors turn to catch any sound; a familiar footstep or a soft word.  Sitting up, he checked his internal chronometer, confirming that it was the third cycle of the graveyard shift, when most of the city’s population was off duty and in recharge.  He tossed the sheet away and reached for his robe.  If Razorsharp had panicked and come running to beg Raven for help again, he might just kill her himself.  Raven was on the verge of committing herself fully to the task of finding Razor a way out, and now was absolutely not the time to push.

The main room was deserted, the active terminal casting the only light in the room.  Raven’s visor was still plugged into the back, and he removed it and rebooted the machine, reminding himself again that requisitioning a second terminal for her exclusive use would be much easier than the mechanics of switching it back and forth each time they changed users.

The main screen finally returned, and he turned on the audio input system.  “Computer, what is the current location of Commander Raven?”



Raven narrowly missed hitting Morphaeus in the chest when the door slid open unexpectedly.

“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly.  “I need to see Razorsharp.”

“Lady Raven.  Greetings.  The request is rather unorthodox at this cycle, to say the least,” he began.

“Yes, I know, Narali, and I’m sorry about that, but it simply cannot wait.”  She twisted to one side and slipped under his arm into the room, spotting Razorsharp near the recharge chamber.  “Is it true?” she demanded.

“What?”  Her puzzlement was evident.

“The official report of the incident lists an unnamed Decepticon femme as being the chief conspirator against the Governor.  She was drawn and quartered immediately for treason.  You were detained, sentenced to death, then for some reason, banished instead.  Yes or no?”

“That is the gist of the events as I remember them, yes.”

“You could have mentioned this before.  It might have made a difference.”  Raven stormed around the room, irate.  “What else aren’t you telling me?  How am I supposed to do anything working in the dark with one hand tied behind me back?”

“I told you. I did not wish to subject myself to the humiliation-”

“How humiliated will you be when they make you kneel on the platform and decapitate you with your own sword?  I’m going to need Double Primus on Thumes’ Stones to get you out of this one.  And the damned game is rigged already.  Your accusers know something I don’t, and I don’t think they’re going to share.”

“Lady Raven,” Morphaeus began again, “I do think that-”

“Not right now, please, Narali.  I have enough to deal with at the moment.  Come with me, “ she said, reaching out to grab Razorsharp’s wrist.

Razor yanked back but couldn’t break her grip.  “No.”

“Yes,” Raven insisted, pulling her forward again.

“For crying out loud, Raven,” Rodimus said, bursting into the room.  “It’s not tug-of-war.  Let her put something on before you haul her around.”

Raven released her.  “Rod?  What are you doing here?  You were asleep when I left.”

“I’d probably still be asleep if you hadn’t.  What are you doing here bugging the Narali and Razorsharp at this cycle?”

She looked at Morphaeus.  “This is what you were trying to tell me?”  He nodded, and she grimaced.  “My apologies.  Rod, I need to get to the lab.  There’s data missing from the Archives, and I don’t want to have to come chasing after Razorsharp again.  I might need her.”

“You have to do it now?”

“It will take too long to explain it all to Perceptor, along with the fact that she doesn’t want everyone in Iacon to know about this mess.  So yes, it has to be now.”

Rodimus conferred quietly with Morphaeus for a moment.  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do, then.  We,” he said, taking Raven’s arm, “are going to stand over here while Morphaeus talks to his mate.  Assuming she’s willing, we’ll all troop down to the lab and go from there.”  He waited until Morphaeus was engaged in conversation with Razorsharp before turning Raven to face him.  “Okay.  I’ll bite.  Why are we going to the lab?”

“I need to get into the database.  There’s information missing from the Decepticon Archives, not because it’s been removed, but because it was never entered.  I got back from a mission and things were…hairy for a while.  And it only hit me down in the Archives that it’s missing.  I think it was over-looked, and I think it’s still down there, waiting for someone to wake up and notice it.”



“What is our purpose in this place?” Morphaeus asked, looking around the room.

The farthest reaches of the lab were dark, lights shining over the bank of computers in the center of the room.  To one side a spotlight illuminated the VR ring.

Raven set to work on one of the terminals.  “I think the data from one of my missions is still here.  Certain event during the mission made it necessary for me to put off examining the data upon my return.  I think in the confusion it was overlooked.”

“Mars?” Razorsharp asked.

Raven didn’t look at her.  "Yes.  I copied the entire system.  There may be some kind of logs, journals, notes.  Anything Straxus kept on file will be here.  Some of it has already been transferred to the Archive, but there’s not nearly enough there.”

“We were occupied with larger concerns at the time,” Razor recalled.

“Yes.”  Raven looked distinctly uncomfortable.  “I’m pretty sure it’s still in this system somewhere.”  She tapped at the keyboard for a moment.  “Yeah.  Here we go.  There files are all from that date.”  More tapping.  “Damn.  Access by password only.”  She flipped the keyboard over, then searched around the workstation.  “Nothing here.”  She looked speculatively at the computer, then at the VR ring.  Flipping the keyboard back over, she started entering commands, then broke the seal on a clean disk and slid it into the drive.  She turned to Razorsharp.  “You’ve watched Perceptor do this.  Can you run it?”

Razor stared at her a moment, then nodded slowly.  “Yes.  I know what to do.”

“Good.”  She jumped up from her chair and went to stand in front of Rodimus.  “Order me.”

He looked down at her.  “What?”

“You need those files.  Order me to get them.”

“Why?”

“It’s espionage if I do this on my own.  Order me to get you the files.”

“All right, Commander.  I want those files.  Do whatever it takes to get them for me.”

She smiled.  “Close enough.”  She clenched her fist and a spike extended from her knuckle.  “Here we go.”

The spike slid into the access port on the console with an audible click and the watched as Raven’s optics began to flicker.

“What is she doing?” Morphaeus asked.

“Downloading the protected files from the computer,” Rodimus said.

“She can do this?”

He shrugged.  “It’s a gift.”

Morphaeus looked at Razorsharp.  “You believe this will work?”

“I’ve seen it done, more than once.  She can perform the procedure on us as well.  She was able to extract my own memories and prove that Niral Virunai was still alive when I left him,” she explained.

“The Omicron Rho conference.”  Morphaeus nodded.  “I heard of the disturbance there.  Rangai Durkal lost much status when he returned home.”

“Pity,” Rodimus sniffed.  “I was hoping he’d get his own turn in a brig.  He owns us that much.”

“He is a member of a noble house.  The cannot be incarcerated on his planet.  But he will never hold a position of authority again.”

“Yeah. Well, next time, I’m not gonna let him go,” Rodimus said.  “I didn’t like him, but it wasn’t personal.”

“And you think it would be in the future?” Razor asked.

“Hey, you’re my friend, right?  No one messes with my friends.”  He looked over at Raven, whose optics were still flickering as data passed through.  “Or my family, either.”

The spike scraped as Raven pulled it out of the port.  “I have it,” she reported briefly.

“And?” Rodimus asked.

She tilted her head to one side, studying something they couldn’t see.  “It’s compressed,” she said, “and encrypted, I think.  The text strings don’t make any sense.”

“I thought you couldn’t access data you’ve downloaded,” Razor pointed out.

“I can now.”  She crossed the room to the VR ring.  “I have to extract it to make any sense out of it.”  She fitted the visor over her optics.  “Start the download,” she directed.


“It’s done,” Razorsharp announced, pulling the disc from the machine.

“Good,” Raven said, coming over and working with the computer a moment.  “We need to leave.”

“Why?  I thought the information you were seeking was here,” Morphaeus said.

“It’s on that disc now,” Raven told him.  “And we’ve been lucky so far, but I don’t want to hang around in here.”

“We are doing nothing wrong.”

“No, we aren’t, Narali.  But if we’re going to keep this private, we need to work where no one ever goes.”

“The Archives,” Razorsharp said.

Raven looked unhappy, as if the reminder that they still thought alike displeased her.  “Yes.  No one seems to care much for them.”  She shut down the system.  “I’ve set it to delete all records of this as soon as it’s activated again.”  She headed for the door.

“Why?” Rodimus asked, catching up with her.

“Habit, mostly.  And again, we don’t need Perceptor following our tracks right and left.”

“Why work in the Archives?  Why not just take it back to our quarters?”

“Other than it’s the crossroads for 90% of the city’s population?” she asked.  “All the files on Decepticon encryption are there.  And there’s an independent system there, not tied into the mainframe.  Nothing on that machine can be accessed from any other location.  It’s safe if whatever’s on there could be used by the enemy.”

Morphaeus and Razorsharp caught up with them.  “Surely, Lady Raven, you do not suspect that anyone in Iacon would hand information over to those opposing us,” he said.

“She is merely being cautious, My Lord.  If the system is isolated, then the data will be that much harder to steal.”

“Something like that,” Raven murmured.  She walked faster, putting more distance between herself and Razorsharp.

‘Is there some reason you’re running from us?’ Rodimus asked her over the sub-com.

‘I’m not running from anyone,’ she insisted.  ‘We don’t have time to stroll through the corridors.’

‘You could just apologize to her.  I think she’d like to have things back to normal between you.’

‘Why should I?  I haven’t plotted treason, planned to let my lord die for want of my protection.’  She stopped dead in the hallway and turned to face him, letting run him into her pointed finger.  “I have done nothing to apologize for,” she said.  Her voice was soft in deference to the hour, but more than loud enough to hear in the corridor.  “Nothing.”  She turned around and resumed walking, her pace just a hair slower than it had been.


The Great Archive was dark, and they slipped nearly silent through the stacks to the small room at the back that contained the Decepticon Archive.  It was a grandiose name for what amounted to a small office with a few computer terminals on the tables and a single case of shelves against one wall, half-filled with trax.  It was something of a tight fit to get everyone inside and shut the door.

Razorsharp went immediately to the shelves, studying titles. ”’Vilnacron , Vos and Polyhex; Triangle of the Empire,’ ‘The Annotated History of Darkmount,’ ‘Inside the Ring; Life in the Arena,’ ‘History of the Empire; Quint Occupation through the Great War.’  You’ve been very busy since I left.  These were still on disc when I left.”

Raven slid the disc into a drive.  “I have help.  Gedreonix assigned me an intern.  Because I can’t be in here and my office both.”  She brought the data up on the screen.  “There it is.”

“It looks like gibberish,” Rodimus noted.

“You don’t read Old Decepticon, Rodimus.  How could you tell the difference?” Razorsharp asked.

“It’s not just that.  I know I don’t read it, but I know a vowel when I see one, and that word doesn’t have any,” he said pointing.  “And that one has too many.”  He indicated another grouping of letters.

“It’s encoded,” Raven said.  “That’s what I need from Razorsharp.”  She looked directly at the other femme for what seemed like the first time in hours.  “You know which encryption codes Straxus used.  We need all of this decoded and translated so we can get some use out of it.”

“Why translated?” Morphaeus asked.  “Everyone in the Drolma system still speaks and reads Decepticon.”

“I’m not letting anything leave the planet without Optimus Prime’s permission,” Raven said.  “I’ve skated pretty close to trouble getting this.  I should balance it with something very conservative.  And he’ll want to see any progress that’s been made as well.”

“So how are we going to do this?” Rodimus asked after Morphaeus nodded in comprehension.

“I think it’s best if we print it all out and let her decrypt it,” Raven said.  “The Narali and I can translate easily enough from that, assuming there’s anything we need translated.  It may be nothing more exciting than laundry lists of vorns-old battle plans.”  She hit a few keys on her terminal and flimsi-plast began to roll out of the printer in the corner.


They stacked the printout on a table in the corner of the Main Archive.  “This could take forever,” Morphaeus said, staring at the thick pile.

“Not necessarily,” Raven replied, taking a seat.  “We could get lucky and find the right one quickly.”  She took the first page Razor decoded and translated it to Basic as she entered it into a datapad.  “Or not.”  She frowned.  “This is a list of supplies needed to take back and hold Cybertron.  Optimistic, to say the least.”

“It assumes that supplies on Cybertron could be captured and utilized,” Razor said, her head bent over another sheet of plast.

Raven looked at the list again.  “Well, maybe.  But it would be close.  Nothing for contingencies.”

“Lord Straxus allowed only for success.  Anything less was a failure.  Including contingencies.”

“Yeah,” Rodimus said.  “So am I redundant here or what?”

“Only if you don’t want to proof-read,” Raven said, handing him the completed list.  “After a while I’m not going to know the difference between Decepticon and Basic, and my spelling will get creative.”

“It’s already creative.”  He corrected a few words and set the pad aside.  “What about you, Narali?  Want me to run another optic over yours?”

“It certainly cannot hurt.”  He handed over his datapad as Raven set to work on another.

“Is this a 3-5-7 off-set?” she asked.

Razor examined it, then handed it back.  “Yes.  Some are variables up to 9 or 13, but they’re all the expanding and contracting off-sets.  Do you know it?”

“SkyStream used to send me letters encrypted like this for practice.  It’s not very sophisticated encrypting.”

“Well, so far, this isn’t very enlightening, either,” Rodimus said.  “’An Epic History of the Glorified Emperors.’  Thank Primus it’s just an outline.”

“Sounds like a text from primary lessons.”  Raven handed another pad to Rodimus and picked up one of the unencrypted files.  “Let me give this a try.”  She worked through, a character at a time, then changed the whole thing to Basic.  “Well, that’s not especially meaningful, but it makes sense.  Lord Morphaeus, have you ever worked with varying off-set encryptions?”

“Not for some time, but I imagine with practice it would come back.  What do you propose?”

“I think the three of us should do this decoding and translating.  Rodimus can check us over for any errors, and if we miss anything important, he can flag it.  I think we can move faster that way.”

“I agree,” Morphaeus said.  “Lady Razorsharp?”

“We will get through three files at a time rather than two.  I agree.”

“So I’m doing more reading?” Rodimus asked.

“Nope.  You’re doing exactly the same amount of reading you were before.”  She handed his another datapad.  “Maybe this one has a better plot.”


The morning went by in a blur.  Cliolex, the Archive intern who worked with Raven appeared, bringing in fresh datapads as needed and filing the sheets of plast as they finished with them.

Near mid-day, Raven paused midway through a translation but remained where she was, not moving.

‘Rod,’ she sub-commed.

‘Yeah?’  He sounded tired, even through her internal speakers.

‘I think I have something here.’

‘The why are you just sitting there?’

‘I’m only halfway through it. I want you to read it very casually and decide what to do.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s bitter, Rod.  And angry.  No one should have to hear these things from someone they cared about.’

‘Okay.  I’ll look at it before we do anything.’

She worked for another few minutes.  Then she handed it over and stood up, stretching.  Her frame squealed in protest.  “I’m going to take a walk.  I can’t remember which words are which anymore.”  She walked past Rodimus, dragging a hand across his shoulder.  She slipped the original sheet of flimsi-plast into subspace as she passed behind him.

“I’ll join you in a minute.”  Her footsteps receded and he forced himself to read what she’d translated.
If you are reading this, then you have, against all odds, survived me.  I send you no word of comfort, no term of endearment
Undoubtedly, you have wondered why you lived.  Most simply put, because I willed it so.  It was ever thus between us, as I am sure you are very aware.  It is my will as well that you know further my design, and learn, at last, your place.
You will serve as an example, to the Empire in general, and my children in particular, how a traitor is without home, family, or honor.  You are iszludinât, cast out, forever banished from Mars.  I wish for you to live, forever separated from your greatest desire.  You are declared natusebla, untouchable.  None will harm you, nor will they shelter or succor you.  Run and hide with the Autobots you despise.  It should suit you well enough.
I take no leave of you.  Do what you will.  I have done with you.


Rodimus found her a few moment later at the far end of the Archive.  “So what are we going to do with this?” he asked, waving the datapad.

She produced another pad and a link cable.  “Let me copy it to this one. I don’t know exactly what Razorsharp will do when she reads it, but it won’t be pretty.”

“Are you just going to give it to her?” Rodimus asked as she worked.

“I have to, don’t I?  Isn’t it her right to see what he really thought of her, his final words?”  There was a bitter edge to her voice.

“You could warn her that it was meant to be cruel, that he wanted to hurt her one last time.  Maybe soften the impact a little.”

“No.  This is what he wrote, what he wanted her to know.  I don’t put words in the mouths of others.  He had cause to be this way.”

“But if you can stop it, or blunt it a little…”

“Why should I do these things?  She called me a whore, accused me of desiring greatness for myself, accused me of coupling with Optimus Prime so he would preserve the Patron’s Path.  She did nothing to blunt her own words.  Why should I be so careful with the words of another?”

His optics flickered as he processed what she’d said.  “You didn’t tell me what she said about you and Optimus.”

“Because it is complete and utter nonsense and I choose not to consider such disgrace.  But she said these things, and they cannot be unsaid.  Straxus said these things to her,” she gestured with the duplicate datapad, “and they cannot be unsaid either.”  She uncoupled the transfer cable and tucked it into subspace.  “I’m going to make sure this is safe.  Go back to the others.  I’ll rejoin you in a moment.”  She walked away, toward the Chief Archivist’s desk, before he could respond.


Gedreonix looked up from the form he was filling out.  “Good morning, Commander.  What can I do for you today?”

“Can you hold this for me?  It’s sensitive data, and I want to be sure it’s safe.”  She handed him the datapad, programmed with her password and switched off.

“Of course.  Are you working on something for Lady Razorsharp?”

She smiled wryly.  “You’ve heard, then?”

“Everyone has heard, I think.  We all have faith in you.”

Raven leaned on the high counter.  “What about those who still hate the Decepticons?”

“Lady Razorsharp has made an impression on everyone here and on Earth.  Even Captain Kup does not wish to see her killed.”

Raven lifted an optic ridge.  “That’s news to me.  Listen, things are going to get noisy and pretty ugly.  Can you close the Archives?  She needs some privacy.”

Gedreonix pressed a few buttons, and the lights dimmed.  “Attention,” the overhead speakers said, “The Archives are now closed for inquiries.  Only those on duty may enter.”

“There you go, Commander.  Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Gedreonix.  I’ll send Cliolex out before the fireworks start.”

“Thank you, Commander.  May Primus guide you.”  He stood up and left quietly.

“I’ll take all the help I can get at this point.”  Raven made her way back to the table.


“That was quite a walk,” Razorsharp said when she returned.

“My processors were really scrambled.”  She gave Rodimus a short shake of the head at his glance and walked to the door of the Decepticon Archive.  “Cliolex?  Your uncle wants you.”  The young femme intern excused herself and slipped out.  Then Raven returned to the table and nodded to Rodimus and sat down next to him.

“We think we found something,” he began.

Raven produced the sheet of flimsi-plast and handed it to Razorsharp.  “There are no names,” she said by way of explanation, “but the sender and intended recipient seem clear.”

Rodimus offered her the datapad.  “It’s probably easier to read on here.”

She looked back and forth, from the marked-up Decepticon copy to the electronic Basic.  Raven watched the methanol pool in the bottoms of Razorsharp’s optics, and she tightened her jaw.  Let her hurt, she thought.  Let someone’s hasty words cut her to the core.  Nothing is without it’s price, yes?

Razor stood shakily, the datapad clutched tight in her hands.  “Excuse me,” she whispered.  Then she fled, and they all heard clearly the crack as something was struck, hard.

Morphaeus stared after her.  “It was that bad?” he asked.

Raven nodded.  “Yes.”

He turned back to face her, optics cool.  “And you chose not to relate this beforehand?”

Rodimus’ optics were equally cool.  “The Sarali needs to learn when not to say things.  Raven and I need to speak to Optimus Prime, and I think you should probably make sure she doesn’t get into any more trouble.”  He stood and helped Raven up.  “We’ll catch up with you later.”


Optimus read over the translation Raven had safeguarded.  “Wow,” he said for the second time.

“It’s very blunt,” Raven said.

He lowered the pad to look at her.  “Blunt?  Not cruel or hateful, but blunt?  Interesting choice of words, Commander.”

“Look at the index code, sir.  It’s less than a Terran month after the incident.  You might not be as cruel or spiteful if your mate betrayed you, but then, not all mechs can be Optimus Prime.”

“You’re pushing, Commander.  Watch it.”

She breathed deeply for a moment, air-cooling her systems.  “I have done what you wanted.  I went through the Archives, I went through the material left out of the Archives.  I have decoded, translated, and brought to you what we found that could be of any use to the Sarali.  What more do you want from me?  Shall I tear my fuel pump from my chest and lay it dripping on your desk?”

“Raven,” Rod admonished her softly.  “That’s enough.  You’ve made your point.”

“You don’t feel any measure of pity for her?” Optimus asked.

“Sarali Razorsharp would throw such a feeling back in my face.  She neither needs it nor wants it.  Not would I.  For the sake of her children, I am pleased for her that her lord did not require her life in exchange for his.”

Optimus’s brows drew together in a  frown.  “Their attempt on Straxus’ life didn’t succeed, though.”

Raven lifted an optic ridge.  “The Governor liked to think he would succeed at everything he put his hand to, I’m sure.  If he had wanted her dead, she would have died.”

“What do you think?”

“Realizing the enormity of her crime, she might not have defended herself.”  She tossed her head.  “Now, there is no need.  She is beyond them all.”

Optimus looked down at the pad again.  “What’s this word, natusebla ?”

“There is an equivalent human term, pariah.  She is now both banished from Mars beyond return, izsludinât, and cast out of Decepticon Society.  Once this becomes common knowledge, no Decepticon will see her, hear her, or touch her.  She will be to them a living ghost.”

The brows drew back together,  “Wouldn’t that make it rather difficult for her to serve as wife of the leader of her system?”

“Her title would be SevHoj,” Raven supplied.  “I suppose it would.”

Rodimus sighed.  “Here we go again.”

Optimus nodded.  “I’m afraid so.  All right, Commander.  This is your field of expertise.  What do we do to revoke the pariah thing?”

Raven choked back a laugh.  “I’m sorry, Optimus Prime.  Truly, I do not mean to be mirthful, but what you are suggesting is impossible.”

Rodimus groaned.  “Don’t say that, please.”

“Nothing is impossible, Commander.  What do we have to do?”

She regarded him evenly.  “Raise Straxus from the dead and convince him to revoke it.”

“We’re eliminating enemies, Commander, not resurrecting them.  What are our other options?  Can Morphaeus just pardon her?”

“For any crime she commits on Drolma III, certainly.  And once he is DevHoj, any crime she commits in the system.  You can pardon her for any crime she commits on Cybertron, should you choose.  But it was Straxus’ sentence, and his word stands until he changes it.”

“But he’s dead.”

“He is indeed, Optimus Prime.  I found not only his statement to the Lady Razorsharp, but the official statement of his death.”

“What about Sirius?” Rodimus asked suddenly.

“What about him?” Optimus said.

“Well, think about if.  Suppose Razorsharp committed a crime and for whatever reason, you were unable to pardon her…”

“If I was dead, you mean,” Optimus clarified.  “Go on.”

 “So I would be in charge, right?  And I would have the power to pardon her as the leader of the Autobots.”

 “And Sirius is the heir to Straxus’ throne, as it were,” Optimus concluded.  “Well, Commander?  Where does that put us?”

She considered a moment.  “It is an interesting proposition.  I could not promise that all those who must be convinced would.  But there would be debate, and the delay that would cause may provide time enough for the evolution of a newer, more certain plan.  But timing is the issue.  And we cannot be sure Lord Sirius would arrive in time to make such statement as we would require.”

Rodimus chuckled.  “You  sounded like Razorsharp for a minute there.”

Raven shook her head.  “I’m sorry.  Reading half the day in Old Decepticon tends to affect my thinking.”

“So we send out a coded message to Sirius and Destiny, telling them to high-tail it back here-“

“To Drolma III, Optimus Prime.  Forgive me, but we’re going to be pressed for time as it is,” Raven said.  “The election is approaching very quickly, and she has to be cleared well before it begins.”

There was a knock at he door before her could reply.  “In,” he called.

The door slid and Morphaeus entered, agitated and alone.  “Pardon my intrusion, Optimus Prime, but I was informed that Lady Raven and Rodimus Prime were here.”  Optimus gestured, and Morphaeus turned to address then.  “Razorsharp has gone mad.”

Raven blinked.  “Would you repeat that, Narali?  I cannot have heard you correctly.”

“The Lady Razorsharp has gone mad.  She returned to our quarters ahead of me, and when I joined her, she had locked herself in the recharge chamber.  She was screaming obscenities when I left.”

A look passed between Raven and Rod, and he nodded.  “If you don’t mind, Optimus-“

Optimus waved him off.  “Go.  Then plan to catch a ride with them back to Drolma III.  I’ll follow up from here with the details.”

They stood and followed Morphaeus from the office.


"I cannot move her," Morphaeus said, his tone drawing close to petulant.  "I fear for her safety, and she will not listen."

Rodimus had to restrain a smirk. "Forgive me for saying so, Narali, but you do not yet know your mate like we do.  If Razorsharp does not wish to be moved, not even Unicron himself could budge her."

Raven stepped past them, her face set in determined lines.  “I’ll move her.”

Rodimus caught her elbow.  “No offense, hon, but you’re not tops on her list right now.”

She shook his hand off.  “She’s not tops on mine, either, but this is selfish and destructive.  I’ll let you know if I need help.”  She stepped through the doors into the guest quarters and let them slide shut behind her.  Then she casually put her fist into the control pad, destroying it.  “No interruptions,” she murmured.

The door to the recharge chamber was closed, and when she tried the keypad, it sparked and whined pathetically.  Raven nodded to herself, then slammed her fist into the wall on the other side, her hand going straight through the thin panel to the manual override control.  She forced it down, and the door cracked open.  Wedging her fingers in the crack, she heaved the panels apart and stood in the shaft of light pouring into the dark room.

It was cool and dim and completely trashed.  Head rests, bed drapes, everything that hadn’t been nailed down was clearly the victim of a temper tantrum of immense proportion.  And in the corner sat Razorsharp, knees up, head down, the datapad that held the message clutched in one shaking hand.  She had managed to break it, too, and they were designed to stand up under the harshest circumstances.  The cruel words were frozen on the screen, never to be erased or scrolled off.

Raven took a deep breath.  “Well, don’t you look pathetic?”

“Go away.”

Raven folded her arms and leaned against the wall by the door.  “No.”

“I said go away, Autobot.”

She crossed her legs as well.  “Nope. If you want me to leave, you’re going to have to get up and make me.”

Razor curled onto the wall.  “Fine.  Stay.  Just shut up.”

“Nope.  Not gonna do that, either.  You’re a pretty sorry sight down there.  Might be worth dragging some youngsters in here to see their first pathetic Decepticon.  Be a real change for them.  They’re so used to seeing the best of the Armada.  Might give them some confidence to show them how miserable and wretched you really are.  ‘Take a good look, folks.  She’s not impervious. She can be hurt.  Just tell her you don’t like her.’”

“Shut up and go away,” Razorsharp mumbled.  “You don’t understand.”

“What in Hellas did you expect to find, a full pardon?  You know damned well it never works like that.  What you did was inexcusable.  You’re lucky to be alive at all.”  Raven slid down the wall and sat on the floor.  “You got stupid, you got careless, and then you got caught.  Natusebla is a gift, considering what you did, and you know it.”

“The gift of being nothing?  Invisible, untouchable, unable to function in Decepticon society because no one will have anything to do with me?”  She laughed mirthlessly.  “It was typical of Straxus to give gifts like that; gifts of pain and anguish.  I should be grateful that he pointed it out to me so clearly.  I am nothing.  I dishonor my mate and my children with my very existence.”

“Damnit!  I’ve had enough of this.”  She stood and crossed the room to tower over Razorsharp.  “Straxus may have been kind and decent at some point, but in the end, he was an ass.  You know it and I know it.  Why do you let him ruin the few good things you have going for you now?  If you want to sit there and whine and wait to be killed, fine.  My job is to keep that from happening, and if I have to walk right over your weeping frame to do it, I'm going to.  So either get up and help me or get out of my Primus-cursed way!"

“He – left – me – with – NOTHING!”  Her voice hitched with sobs.

“You had nothing to start with,” Raven pointed out coldly.  Warmth and pleasantries would have no impact, she knew.  “You went right back to what you knew.”

“I – had – so – much, and he – took it – ALL!”

“Enough!”  Raven’s voice echoed in the small room.  “You know what?  He’s not dead.  He’s never been dead.”  She waited until Razor looked up at her, hope and fear mixed in her face.  “He’s still here, in this room with us, because you won’t LET HIM GO!  He drags everywhere with you like an unwelcome spirit, casting darkness and gloom over everything you do.  You won’t LIVE because you’re dragging a corpse with you wherever you go.  You have everything, and you won’t drop the past and reach out to TAKE it.  You wonder why your children are driven to please you, when all they want is to be seen for who they are and not some extension of a wraith.  Morphaeus hasn’t said anything to me yet, but I bet he’s wondering why you’re always so damned sad.  And I bet he’d do anything to make you really happy just once.  So you pick.  Here and now, you have to decide what it’s going to be.  Are you going to live in the past with the spirits, or work toward the future with those who care about you?  I’m not trying to make the pain worse, but Nibe, you’re killing yourself, and dragging us down with you.”

The tears had opened something inside of Razor, and she looked down at the datapad with a frown. She smoothed the surface, as if to brush away the cracks that were forever etched in the screen.  "I loved him."  Razor sighed.  "I also hated him. I feared him. I cherished him, I loathed him."  She looked up at Raven, meeting the violet optics with none of her usual guardedness, and Raven nearly gasped in surprise as Razor continued. "My emotions have been in such turmoil for so long.  I was finally unable to tell where love ended and hate began."

Raven sank to her knees beside Razorsharp.  "I understand," she began quietly.  "It's entirely possible to love someone one microsecond, and then hate them the next."  She drew the datapad out of Razor's fingers gently, surprised yet again when Razor let her set the datapad on the floor beside them.  "When you can't let go, that's what's bad.  You've got to, Razorsharp.  We can't do it for you. I know it hurts."  Her optics brimmed with tears.  "When you gave me that disc, where Megatron was speaking of me, telling me to fight on in the other side...I had to destroy it if I wanted to ever have a chance to ever care for someone living again.  I knew the past had to rest in peace."  She smiled, taking Razor's hands in hers.  "That's not to say I have ever forgotten him--and I try to only remember the good things--because I can't forget.  Those memories are what make me who I am today.  But you can't go back, Razor."  She squeezed Razor's hands for emphasis.  "No matter how hard you try, you can't ever go back."

The silence stretched out between them, and Razorsharp finally nodded as if to herself.  "I know."  She looked up, and Raven saw her tears mirrored on Razor's harlequined face.  "I only hope it is not too late to make up for the time I have so foolishly wasted."

To Be Continued….

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