Presumed Guilty

By

Lady MoonHawke

“I really don’t mind what happens now and then,
As long as you’ll be my friend at the end.”
Kryptonite -- 3 Doors Down

Ekliptika sat eerily still in the chair across the desk from Optimus Prime. Though her optics were still an unsettling amethyst, there was none of the former hostility or confusion there he had seen in the past.

“I know I’ve asked before, but I wanted to be sure we understood each other. Are you certain you’re ready to take on assignments again? I don’t want you to feel pushed.” Optimus studied her, carefully gauging her reactions.

“I am more than ready, Optimus Prime, I assure you. I have put my past away, and I am eager to move forward.” She was serene, steady, and though her optics were oddly tinted, they never wavered.

Optimus leaned back in his chair, fingers laced underneath his chin. “All right, then. I have an assignment in mind for you, something a little different than usual. For the moment, I’d appreciate it if you would accept my judgment on this without argument. Can we agree on this, before I give you the details?”

Ekliptika remained unruffled where her now-dormant Decepticon alter-ego would have gone up in flames. “Of course, Prime. I will never question you judgment. You know this.”

“Just what I needed to hear.” He leaned forward, passing her a closed folder from his desk. “Rodimus Prime is attending a diplomatic conference on Omicron Rho next week. I want you to head up the security detail.”

She flipped through the folder quickly. “I see,” she replied after a moment. “And the rest of the security team?”

“Your choice, to a certain degree.” He regarded her silently for a moment, measuring again. “Are you still willing to work with the Lady Razorsharp?”

“I think a more appropriate question would be, is the Lady Razorsharp willing to work with me?” Ekliptika responded.

Optimus frowned. “Is there some difficulty between you? I rely on you two to retain a reasonable relationship. Your combined understanding of Decepticon thinking is a huge advantage.”

Ekliptika stared at the ceiling plates, searching for a way to frame her reply. Finally, she sighed. “We have had a falling out with regard to our philosophies. At least that seems the best way to explain it.”

“That’s not much of an explanation, Lieutenant,” Optimus remarked, gesturing for her to continue.

Ekliptika’s optics darkened for a moment, then brightened again. “I explained to you that Razorsharp and I have very similar backgrounds, did I not?” At his nod, she continued. “I have, for various reasons, put my memories, my past with the Decepticons, aside. While those customs and beliefs were at one time central to my life, they are now in the past, and I have embraced my life as an Autobot.

“Lady Razorsharp was very disappointed to hear this. Her Decepticon heritage is of supreme importance to her, and she is trying to raise her children to revere it as well, as is her right, of course. I think she was hoping I would provide some background as a former member of the Grand Armada. And there are few enough of us left that followed the old ways. The former Governor was one such, and I think there was a sense of familiarity in that. And now she is a Decepticon alone among Autobots again. It must be disconcerting to say the least.”

Optimus sighed. “I need Razorsharp at this conference, Lieutenant. You know the Decepticons are so disorganized at this point that we may be able to forge some kind of peace soon. I want to present the first signs of that peace at Omicron Rho, so I need Razorsharp there as a living model of that goal; a Decepticon living and working with Autobots in harmony. The results could be enormous.”

“I can only suggest that you ask her if she is willing. I believe you should be honest and forthright about what you expect, and hope she sees your logic,” was all Ekliptika could offer.

“Honest and forthright is the only thing Lady Razorsharp will accept, Lieutenant. I am very aware of this.”

“NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

Had the words been daggers, they would have skewered Optimus to the wall. However, it was not the Lady Razorsharp who protested; it was her son, Lord Sirius, heir to the throne of Darkmount who raised his voice in outrage.

Affronted yet outwardly serene, Razorsharp cast a pointed glare at her eldest child. She looked back at the hulking Autobot seated on a comfortable couch in her suite, and gave a mental sigh. As she had feared, Sirius had grown up to emulate Straxus more and more each day, despite being raised in Optimus’ shadow. “Peace, my son,” she murmured, looking up at him from the chaise opposite Prime. “It is as Optimus says. This could be out best chance to end this conflict.”

Sirius remained unconvinced. “‘End the conflict’? You mean surrender! The Decepticons will never agree to that!” He balled his hands into fists, straining to keep from smashing them into the reflective surface of Prime’s faceplate.

In contrast, the Autobot leader held up his hands in entreaty. “I’m not talking about surrender. I’m talking about a mutual agreement to end a long, wasteful war. It seems logical that many Decepticons would be eager to preserve what remains of their culture, before it becomes extinct.” He sighed, remembering Sirius as the prickly child who came to Autobot City, fiercely protective of his mother and younger sisters. In the years that followed, the young Decepticon and the war-weary Autobot had formed a tenuous friendship, but now it seemed Sirius had cast that friendship into the smelter. “You can’t tell me you’re against preserving your native heritage.”

“But--”

Razor’s optics were like chips of ruby ice. “Enough,” she hissed, her voice as sharp as her blade. “I apologize for my son’s rudeness, Optimus Prime,” she said, inclining her head politely.

“It makes me sick to see you grovel at the feet of a murderer,” Sirius grated in Old Decepticon.

“It is a rule in this house,” Razor said, not taking her optics from Optimus, “that we speak in Basic when we have guests.” She then turned to her son. “Tell me, my son, has this rule been altered in the last breem, and I did not know of it?”

The boy fumed a moment more, then turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. When he was gone, Razor relaxed her stiff posture, sighing explosively.

“Again, my apologies, Optimus Prime. I would tell you that I do not know where he gets it from...only I know precisely.”

Optimus had to chuckle. “So do I. As I recall, you were the one constantly looking for a fight not so long ago.”

Razor’s only response to the comment was her trademark Decepticon smile, a bemused curling of the corners of her electric-blue painted mouth that did not quite reach her eyes. It was a smile for outsiders. “When does the delegation take place?” she asked, crossing one booted leg over the other.

“A week from tomorrow. It’ll take at least a Terran day each direction to travel, even at hyper-light.” He paused, trying to gauge her reaction to his next words. “I’ve asked that Ekliptika head up the mission.”

The silence after his announcement only a few seconds. “Very well, Optimus, it shall be as you say. I, unlike my son, can put aside personal differences for the greater good.” She stood, signaling that the interview was at a close, and Optimus followed suit. “Primus keep you until we meet again, Optimus Prime.” She hit the door control, and the panel retreated on its quiet runners.

“And you, my Lady,” Optimus returned, touching his brow briefly in a polite half-salute. Then he exited her chambers, the door swiftly closing between them.

Rodimus, who was waiting a few meters down the hall, grinned mirthlessly at Optimus. “That went well,” he growled, his tone oozing sarcasm.

“She agreed to go; that’s all I’m concerned about.”

“I’m still worried about the kid, Prime. Think he’ll pull something while she’s gone?”

“No, I don’t. She’s raised him better than that, Roddy; don’t sell her short,” Optimus warned as they walked toward the command center. “The Lady Razorsharp -- and her family -- are forces to be reckoned with, but they’re on our side.”

Rod frowned slightly. “As the saying goes, ‘With those kind of friends....’”

The elder Prime shot his counterpart an intense sapphire glance. “And there’s another saying that goes ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ I think Her Ladyship is right where she belongs.”

After Optimus left, Razorsharp opened the doors to the balcony and stepped outside. The night was cool, and she powered down her optics to let the sounds of the evening filter in. Leaning against the rail, she rubbed the back of her neck tiredly, stretching the kinks from her steel cable muscles.

As she stood watching the night, she wondered about her children--had she indeed done right by them, raising them in an environment so different from the one they were born into. With the Autobots, they had been praised for their individuality, while the heritage of their birth stressed pride in being part of a patriotic whole. _How different they might be,_ she wondered with a small smile, _if I had not gone back for them, and they had been raised by their father._

"Maman?"

Razorsharp uncurled herself from the railing, turning to find her eldest child standing in the doorway. She considered the young mech for a moment, then opened her arms to him. "Come here, caro mia."

Sirius stepped into her embrace as he had when he was small, burying his head against her shoulder even though he was nearly the same height as she. "I'm sorry," he whispered, as if afraid his father would hear him.

The Deceptifemme held him at arm's length for a moment, stroking her thumb across his cheek. "How you've grown so, my son. Every day you remind me more of your father." She tilted her head slightly. "He would be proud of you."

"Would he truly?" Sirius looked his mother full in her shimmering ruby optics. "Maman, did you--did you love him?"

"Yes," she answered without a moment's hesitation. "I loved your father very much."

"Then why did you leave us?"

Razor's expression darkened, and she moved back to the railing, away from her son's curious expression. "That is between me and your father."

Sirius' optics narrowed. "Why won't you tell me? What could possibly be so bad that you can't tell your own son?" He went to his mother, forcing her to turn and face him. He placed his hands on either side of her face, and she covered her hand with his, kissing his palm. "I want to know the truth."

"Even if it changes how my children think of me?" Razor's optics were filled with despair.

The young mech was now the one who comforted his mother, drawing her into his arms. "It won't."

Earth’s sun slipped slowly below the horizon, taking with it the faint light and heat it provided, leaving Cybertron chill and dark.

Ekliptika looked up from her paperwork at the knock on her office door. “Who is it?” she asked, finishing an entry.

“Lady Razorsharp. May I come in?”

Ekliptika set down her stylus and closed the folder. “Certainly.” She watched from behind her desk as the Decepticon came in. “Have a seat,” she offered.

Razorsharp sat gracefully. “I did not know you had an office,” she commented.

Ekliptika smiled. “I didn’t before. It came with the transfer to the diplomatic division. though I believe it had a former life as a cleaning supply closet. I have a feeling Optimus Prime wanted to keep me close to home for a while.”

Razor studied her for a moment. “Do you regret knowing what happened now? Knowing what could have been?”

“No. Not really. It gives me a frame of reference, even if I don’t use it.” She tapped the null end of her stylus against the folder a moment. “I would presume that Optimus Prime has spoken to you about the diplomatic mission he wants you to serve on?”

“He did. What will be my purpose?”

“I think his intention was to present you as a living symbol that Autobots and Decepticons can live and work peacefully together,” Ekliptika stated.

“Forgive me, but it does not seem as though the conference involves other Decepticons. Why are the Autobots sending a delegation?”

“Cybertron is sending a delegation. It just happens to be made up mostly of Autobots.”

“And the token Decepticon. I do not care for the idea, but a token Decepticon is better than no Decepticon at all.” She grimaced a moment, then continued. “How am I to serve as this ‘living symbol of peace?’”

“Optimus and I have been over this, and we’d like you to hide in plain sight, as it were; a member of the delegation, but one with no specific duties or responsibilities.” Ekliptika was silent, searching for a way to explain delicately. “We’d like you to appear as, well, Rodimus’ companion.”

Razorsharp went stock still, a dangerous sign. “I know you do not mean that remark the way it sounded,” she announced softly.

“It would be for show only, of course,” Ekliptika was quick to explain. “We need someone unobtrusive inside the formal receptions and parties. Everyone will be so busy looking at you as a Decepticon that they’ll forget to notice that you’re watching Rodimus much more closely than any ‘official’ security.”

Razor sat silently, weighing her words carefully. “What does Rodimus Prime think of the plan?” she asked, still considering.

“He understands the necessity, and he’s not going to read anything into the situation,” Ekliptika assured her.

“In other words, he doesn’t like the idea, but he will go along with it. What about personal quarters? Will he and I have to share space?”

“We are arranging for a suite of rooms. Rodimus Prime needs ‘space in which to work.’ I’ll be across the hall keeping an eye on things,” Ekliptika explained.

Razorsharp sighed. “I cannot admit to being fond of the idea, but I cannot fault your logic. Can I in turn make a request?”

“Certainly,” Ekliptika replied, a little stunned. She had honestly expected Razorsharp to object strongly and need more convincing. “Anything that is reasonably within my power.”

“My son would like to make a request. He knows the basics of the assignment, but that is all. I would appreciate it greatly if you would weight his request most seriously, though the decision is entirely up to you.”

“I’ll be glad to hear him out,” Ekliptika accepted. “Is he available now? If not, I can see him a little later today.”

“He came with me.” Razorsharp went to the door, and stepped back as Sirius entered. As heir to the Decepticon leadership, one day soon he would outrank her, and she was slowly guiding him into the role.

Ekliptika rose as well, mindful of the youth’s prickly nature. “Lord Sirius, I’m glad you are able to join us. Your mother has mentioned that you have a request. Have a seat, and we can discuss it.”

Sirius sat, his bulky frame seeming to shrink the small room. “Lady Raven. We haven’t spoken for some time.”

Razorsharp reached out a hand to her eldest child. “My son....” she began, but Ekliptika waved her off.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I have chosen to use my Autobot designation, Lord Sirius, but if you and your sisters are more comfortable with it, I can accept hearing my former name on occasion.”

Sirius was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry if I have offended, Lieutenant Ekliptika.”

“It’s of no concern. What did you wish to discuss?”

“My mother is accompanying an Autobot delegation to some kind of conference. I wish to go as well,” he announced.

Ekliptika regarded him solemnly. “That is a very serious request, my Lord. Members of the security detail are well-trained, experienced officers. And if you will forgive me, you have not reached the Age of Consent. What assets could you offer a team of highly skilled, hand-picked, mature individuals?” She steepled her the tips of her fingers and tapped them against her chin, watching him.

“I’m an accomplished warrior, Lieutenant. I have passed all the appropriate training levels for my age,” he offered.

“I am certain you are an adequate fighter, my Lord, but this is a diplomatic mission, not a battle. Continue.”

Her light rebuke stung. “I’m more than adequate. I could take you down,” he insisted.

Razorsharp felt the urge to interrupt but a glance at Ekliptika told her not to. The Autobot was treating him with complete sincerity, and if Sirius was ever to become an adult, he would have to find his place on his own.

“Certainly you could, my Lord, as hand-to-hand combat is far from a specialty for me. But I do not expect to be doing much fighting, either. And I have a certain proficiency with a blaster,” Ekliptika replied, and Razor had to stifle another comment. She’d seen Ekliptika fighting long ago, as the Decepticon Raven. “Proficiency” wasn’t quite the right word for her ability. “Deadly accurate” was a much better description.

“Well, my Lord?” Ekliptika asked, startling Razorsharp from her reverie. “Can you give me a reason for your inclusion on this mission? Something unique you can provide?”

It was a clue, and he knew it. Something unique; something only he could...then he had it. “My mother was a member of the Royal Family,” he stated, pride clear in his voice. “She must travel with an honor guard on a diplomatic mission. I would like to offer myself for the duty.”

Ekliptika nodded. “I agree. Members of the Royal House traveling for diplomatic purposes must be escorted by an honor guard.” She opened her folder and picked up her stylus. “Optimus Prime is going to love this. One Decepticon Honor Guard for the Lady Razorsharp.” Setting her stylus down again, she picked up the folder. “I hate to be rude and shoo you off, but Optimus Prime is expecting the final manifest for the trip.”

Razorsharp rose smoothly. “Of course. Thank you for your time.” She turned to Sirius, who had risen when she did. “Will you wait outside for me, my son?”

Ekliptika broke in. “I was hoping his Lordship would escort me to Prime’s office.”

“Of course. Lieutenant,” he replied. “I’ll wait outside for you.” With a nod, he stepped out.

“I wanted to thank you,” Razorsharp said quickly. “The idea of this mission troubled him greatly. I appreciate your patience with him.”

Ekliptika came out from behind the desk. “He’s going to have to follow orders, Razorsharp. I won’t tolerate any disrespect from him, you know that. Not if he wants to take a place in the chain of command.”

“I understand,” Razorsharp replied. “Perhaps discipline from an outside source will be good for him. He does respect you. They all do, though they are curious about what they see as a defection.”

Ekliptika sighed. “When I can explain it to them, I will.” She glanced at her chronometer. “But not right now. I have to get this list to Prime.” They stepped out into the hallway, and Sirius instantly took up station beside her.

“I will return to quarters as soon as I can, Maman,” he said formally, watching her move off. “What did you wish to discuss, Lieutenant?”

“The mission, Lord Sirius. You are likely to encounter a great deal of subtle, and not-so-subtle, hostility. I want to be certain you can deal with it. You will be answering to two people on the journey; myself and Rodimus Prime.” He started to protest, and she cut him off. “I know. I did not include your mother on that list. She has no official rank, and is attending as a ‘guest’ of Rodimus Prime.” He sputtered again, and once again she cut him off. “She’s there to protect him, and that’s all. Anything that gets past me will have to get past her to get to Rodimus, and now you as well. So you will receive your orders from me, and you will follow them. If Rodimus gives you an order, I expect the same courtesy. Are we clear?”

Sirius looked unhappy, but he nodded. “Yes, Lieutenant. I understand.”

Ekliptika smiled. “Good. I am proud of you. It take a great deal of courage to do what your doing.”

“What, be a diplomatic guard?”

“No. Do what your head tells you even when your heart rebels. Do you wish to attend the meeting with the Primes with me? I’ll let you be my assistant.”

“No, thank you, Lieutenant. I should return to quarters and be certain I have everything required for the trip.” He inclined his head, and made to leave.

“Sirius, formal dress,” she called after him. He waved in acknowledgment, then was gone.

“You have to be out of your mind!” Rodimus shouted, starting up from his chair. “Bad enough to bring along one Decepticon, but two? Are you insane?”

“Sit down, Roddy,” Optimus instructed. “I put the lieutenant in charge of security for this mission, and I hardly think she’s lost her mind.” He looked at Ekliptika. “I would, however, like to hear why you chose to include Sirius.”

“In all honesty, Optimus Prime, because he asked to go,” she replied. “And he was able to point out to me something that had been overlooked. Razorsharp was a member of a Decepticon Royal family. As such, she is entitled to at least one Decepticon guard in diplomatic situations. And Sirius wanted the job. He is along strictly to guard his mother.”

“And do whatever she tells him?” Rodimus asked. “Suppose she takes it into her head to announce that the Decepticons want equal recognition in the Accords? The Cybertronian reunification will be up in smoke.”

“Razorsharp knows what she is supposed to be doing; guarding you when my presence would be remarked upon. Sirius has been instructed to take orders from two people; myself, and you, Rodimus. I wouldn’t worry about him.”

Rodimus Prime studied her through narrowed optics. “You seem pretty confident for someone who’s never run security before.”

Optimus stood up, separating them. It was getting to be a habit, sorting out hot-tempered Autobots and supremely confident former-Decepticons. “I’m sure the Lieutenant Ekliptika has taken any number of sensible precautions. Do you needs to tell us anything else?”

“No, sir. Everything is on schedule. We should leave in three day’s time.” She dipped her head deferentially to the mechs, and slipped from the room.

Rodimus stared at the door she’d exited. “She argued with me,” he murmured incredulously.

Optimus fell back in his chair. “That’s Ekliptika for you.” He glanced at Rodimus, taking in his expression. “No, Rod. Just forget about it right now.”

“What, Optimus?” he protested. “I wasn’t thinking-”

Optimus cut him off. “I know that look. Lieutenant Ekliptika isn’t some hero-worshipping femme on her first assignment. She’s not going to fall for any of your old, tasteless lines. You ought to give up that garbage, anyway. Let her do her thing, and you concentrate on the job at hand. Besides, you wouldn’t have a chance in Hellas.”

The younger mech swiveled around to face him. “Now you know I gotta try, Optimus.” His grin was infectious.

Optimus shook his head. “Don’t break her heart, Roddy,” he advised. “And don’t let it interfere with the mission. Get those Accords signed and sealed. Everything else comes second.”

The ship pushed smoothly through Cybertron’s thin atmosphere, hardly moving the cabin’s occupants at all. On Earth, it would have been a bumpy ride. Here, it was almost beneath notice. The view of the sky darkened quickly, turning to space-black, pitted with hundreds of thousands of stars. Then the hyper-drive engines roared into action, briefly pressing the crew and passengers into their seats while the inertial systems caught up.

Rodimus unbuckled his restraints and slid from his seat up a few rows and into the vacant seat next to Ekliptika. “So, Lieutenant, want to tell me the real reason you brought the kid along? I gotta tell you, I don’t have the same faith in his family that Optimus does.”

Ekliptika looked up from her data pad. “Do you have some foundation for your suspicions, or is it just the usual Autobot prejudice?”

“Hey, I believe in Optimus’s peace plan, assuming we can ever get the Decepticons to sit down, or even find a Decepticon the others will follow. And you know what they’ve done to us. How many years were we chased off Cybertron thanks to them?” Rodimus snapped.

“Do you know what the Decepticons were, Rodimus Prime? Before the Great War? They were the filth an Autobot wouldn’t spit on in the street. They did the dirty jobs, the punishing and killing no Autobot or Neutral would soil his hands with. They were trained to mete out death and destruction. Is it any wonder that’s what their masters got back?” She unhooked her restraints, standing then edging past him. “I’m going to get some rest. This is the last time you’ll be absolutely safe for a week. I should get ahead while I can.”

Almost before he could react, she was striding up the aisle, passing the Decepticon youth where he sat several rows back. Rodimus tried to follow, but found his way blocked by the midnight blue and violet form of Sirius. “Not now, kid,” he muttered, trying to edge past.

“She’s running,” he stated flatly. “Is the great Rodimus Prime reduced to chasing after a fleeing femme?”

Rodimus lost sight of her as she slipped into one of the tiny cabins. Thwarted, he fell into a seat. “Hellas, kid. Sometimes they run just so you can chase them. It’s all part of the game.”

“How do you tell the difference?” Sirius asked, settling across the aisle.

“That’s another part of the game. You guess wrong, you get a fist in the face. You guess right...well, you get something else entirely.” He settled more comfortably into his seat. “So you know Lieutenant Ekliptika pretty well, huh? She’s friendly with your mom?”

Sirius’s expression darkened. “Anything you wish to know about the lady you should find out from her.”

“Hey, kid, relax. I’m not asking you to betray any confidences here. And you’re the one who pointed out, she’s runnin’.”

Sirius sighed. “They’ve been social in the past. But they’ve had a difference of opinion recently.”

“‘Bout what?” Rod asked with feigned disinterest.

“History, I believe, and its place,” Sirius replied cryptically.

“Well, she just gave me a ringing perspective on the past, and a strange one it was, for an Autobot. What about Razorsharp? Is she any good with places and dates?”

“The Lady Razorsharp is Chief Decepticon Archivist in the Great Archives,” Sirius grated.

“I’ll take that for a yes. So was it Decepticon history, Autobot history, some combination of the two, what?” Rod pressed.

Sirius rose abruptly. “I think anything more you want to know about the Lieutenant you should find out from her.” He left, heading toward the cabins.

“Damn,” Rodimus muttered. “Strike two.”

Ekliptika made one last survey of the landing platform, eyes roaming carefully over the guards assembled by their host and the assembled dignitaries, then glanced over at Sirius. He’d been quiet most of the trip, a fact that bothered her a little, but he was here to assist in providing security, and she didn’t have time to find out what, if anything, was bothering him. He nodded to her, indicating that he’d seen nothing out of the ordinary, and she nodded back confirming that all seemed well.

“Thank you for your patience, Governor,” she said, offering a smile to their host.

“Not at all, Lieutenant. We understand your concerns coming into a strange place like this. I was hoping I could prevail on you to make a small concession to us in return,” he suggested.

“I’ll certainly put your request to Rodimus Prime. Any major decisions are his to make, of course,” Ekliptika hedged.

“We’d just like to make a note of any weapons brought into the conference, purely for elimination purposes. In the highly unlikely even of an incident,” he babbled nervously.

She nodded. “I’m fairly sure that will be acceptable. Give me just a minute to explain the situation and be certain that there are no objections.” She looked at Sirius. “Wait out here for me,” she instructed, then paced back up the ramp and into the ship.

Rodimus snapped his formal cape into place. “So how are we doing?” he asked as she came in.

“Looks good. Governor Barzan has provided a planetary guard, good size, but not too many. I don’t see any raving lunatics in the crowd. They would like to have a look at our weapons as we go in, but they aren’t going to confiscate them, which is certainly nice.” She withdrew twin blasters from their holsters and removed the energon cores. “I think it would be a nice show of faith if our weapons are unloaded when they are inspected.”

“What if there is need to defend ourselves?” Razorsharp asked, absently fingering her sword hilt.

“Doesn’t look very likely, but I have back-up weapons, just in case.” She clipped her own cape in place. “Are we ready, then?”

“Might as well get it over with.” Rodimus stood in the doorway as Ekliptika opened it. “Here goes nothin’.”

Rod was in his element. He chatted, he chuckled, and he schmoozed the other delegates with a practiced aplomb. Razorsharp stood nearby, exchanging the odd comment and watching the Heir to the Matrix circulate. He was invariably polite, introducing her to various diplomats, casting their ersatz relationship in just the right light; neither too important nor too casual. She had to acknowledge to herself, he was a master at this meaningless prattle.

Out of the corner of her optic, she caught sight of Sirius. He leaned against the wall, his face an expressionless mask, never losing sight of her. She nodded in his direction, and cast a knowing smile. He nodded back stiffly, and she saw him sweep a glance around the room again, watching everything, judging it in relation to her safety. When he was satisfied, he returned his gaze to her.

Razorsharp let her own gaze travel around the room as she sipped dutifully from the goblet of high-quality energon she’d been handed. Delegates and their companions chatted in groups, some circulating more than others, but she caught no sight of Ekliptika. Her brows knit for an instant in puzzlement, then, quietly excusing herself from Rod’s party, she made her way to her son’s side.

“Where is Lieutenant Ekliptika?” she asked softly as they stepped into an alcove.

“She is inspecting the security for the main conference rooms and our quarters. She will return before the end of this gathering, and would appreciate it if we remain here until then,” he reported gravely.

Razor’s fuel-pump stuttered a little. Here was her son, Heir to Darkmount, on his first assignment, and he was subordinate to an Autobot, taking pride in his work. For a moment, she was glad that Straxus had not survived to see this. But many things would perhaps be different if the Lord Governor has survived.

“Very well, my son,” she said at last. “Do you know if everything is going as expected in that area?”

“It’s acceptable,” Ekliptika’s voice replied behind her.

Razorsharp turned to face her. “All is well, then? I was hoping to retire soon. I find extended travel more and more tiring as the vorns go on.”

Ekliptika watched the shadows move across the wall near them before replying. “As well as can be expected. As far as I’m concerned, whenever Rodimus Prime is ready, we can depart.”

“Very well. I will inquire with Rodimus, then.” Razorsharp made her way through the various envoys to Rod’s side. Discretely catching his attention, she said, “I’m afraid I shall have to ask you to excuse me. I have developed rather sick head-ache, and should seek a quiet place to rest.”

“Of course,” he replied. Excusing himself from the other diplomats, he took her arm. “Let me escort you to our quarters.” He led her from the room, Ekliptika and Sirius following closely.

Back in the suite provided for them, Rodimus stripped off his mantle and tossed it across a chair. “Everything good in here?” he asked, looking at Ekliptika.

She nodded. “I checked it for bugs, and it’s clean. I set up some scramblers just in case the other guests aren’t as scrupulous as our hosts.”

“Good. What do we have so far?”

“Security for the conferences is good,” Ekliptika offered. “No obvious lapses in coverage. No subtle ones, either. Barzan’s people are good, and they’re going overboard to be honest and above-board. Some of the other security teams are a little furtive, but it’s to be expected.”

“There are concealed weapons,” Sirius declared. “Many of the guests were armed at the introductory function.”

“So are you, my Lord,” Ekliptika reminded him. “As am I, and I’m sure Lady Razorsharp is carrying something. It’s no great surprise.”

“But these are delegates,” Sirius protested. “Should they be armed?”

“Probably not, but there’s not much we can do about it,” Rodimus allowed. “Good catch, though. Way to keep your optics open. Lady Razorsharp? Any observations?”

“There is a great deal of consternation among the delegates. A certain amount of unease, though some of it can be contributed to the importance of these Accords that everyone is speaking about. But there are some deadly enemies here, and if these talks end with no bloodshed, I will be quite amazed.” She settled onto a couch. “What exactly are these Accords, anyway?”

“A Galactic Council, to establish trade agreements and provide for mutual defense. All the planets involved are agreeing to come to one another’s aid, and to use diplomacy to resolve differences before resorting to violence,” Rod replied, seating himself across from her.

“And the Deceptions weren’t invited. Why am I not surprised?” she asked rhetorically.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Rod began, “and meaning no disrespect to those present, but the Decepticons aren’t exactly known for their diplomacy, or their willingness to lend aid. And frankly, there’s nothing that they can offer now as a rag-tag group of lunatic fringe war-mongers.” He held up a hand as Sirius moved to interrupt. “Hold on a minute. I understand that for a long time, the Decepticons got the short end of the stick, and that what they were forced to do fashioned them into what they are today. But the ugly truth is that a lot of the representatives out there don't want to deal with them. And it’s going to take a lot of work and changed opinions on both sides before we can even sign a peace agreement. And in the meantime, the Autobots can’t let a chance like this go by. If we can eventually bring the Decepticons into this agreement as ‘repatriated Cybertronians’ then we will. But for the moment, this is an Autobot ball game, and that’s how we’re playing it.”

“So why are my mother and I really here?” Sirius asked, optics narrowed.

“You’re here because Lieutenant Ekliptika said you could come, kid. Optimus and I had nothing to do with it,” Rod replied.

“And my mother?” Sirius pressed.

Rodimus shrugged. “You’ve got me there. Your mother is a rare example of a cultured and distinguished Decepticon. We’re trying to change a few attitudes, even if it’s just getting some of the delegates to think again.” He looked over at Razorsharp. “I hope you’re not offended by the situation.”

“I am sensible to it’s necessity, Rodimus Prime. I want peace and prosperity for my people, not war and suffering,” she replied.

“We’ve certainly had more than our share of that,” Ekliptika noted from the corner. “Well, if we’re all on the same page, I’m planning on hitting recharge soon. What is the plan for tomorrow?”

“Conferences for me,” Rodimus stated. “Morning and afternoon sessions in the main room. There’s another of those get-togethers in the evening. Formal turnout.”

“I have been invited to tour various points of planetary interest with the other ‘guests,’” Razorsharp informed them. “It seems a good opportunity to attempt changing a few of those attitudes Rodimus mentioned.”

Ekliptika nodded. “Sounds good. Sirius, will you accompany your mother? I’ll stay with Rodimus and the other official security types, watching for some nut-case to blast off.”

Sirius nodded. “It will be my pleasure.”

“Great. In that case, I’m off. ‘Night, folks.” Ekliptika slipped out the door, unaware of Rod’s optics following her.

Razorsharp saw his look. “She is not for you, Rodimus Prime.”

“You never can tell. Lord Sirius, Lady Razorsharp, rest well.” With that, Rodimus disappeared into one of the recharge chambers.

Ekliptika wiped the last trace of polish from the backswept feathers adorning her helmet. Dropping the cloth, she raked a hand through her synth-hair, then set the helmet in place before the tumbled curls could fall back over her forehead, turning it back and forth slightly until it felt a part of her again. Satisfied, she scooped her mantle from the arm of the chair and fastened it to the epaulets of her armor. One last glance in the mirror confirmed that everything was in place. She stopped at the door, collecting her two matched blasters and checking their charge. Satisfied that they were prepared as well, she subspaced them from sight and stepped into the hall.

Sirius waited, leaning against the wall, eye on the door to the suite. “Lieutenant,” he greeted her.

“Are they about ready?” she asked.

“Almost. Rodimus Prime is prepared. He agreed to wait within. Maman is still preparing. She is attempting to blend in better with the other guests in terms of her dress.” His tone made it clear that he was unhappy with the decision.

Ekliptika tilted one eyebrow up. “I’m sure Razorsharp knows what she’s doing. Keep you mind on watching things, and not her wardrobe.”

The door to the suite slid open and Rodimus emerged. “Do you know what she’s wearing?” he asked in a stunned tone.

Ekliptika blinked. Now the situation was becoming interesting, if both mechs were commenting on the outfit. “Fine. I’ll go see about it, if it makes you both happy.”

She walked through the open door, and immediately could understand the reaction. Razorsharp had cast off her usual violet and blue armor and massive black boots. Instead, she was draped in royal purple, pinned with heavy broaches at the shoulders and belted at the waist. As she moved away from the mirror, Ekliptika could see flashes of pale gray metallic skin through long slits, ending high above Razorsharp’s knee. She’d left off her helmet and piled her hair high on her head, the light throwing blue-black glints from it. It changed the look of her face, making the harlequin paint all the more prominent. “That outfit’s kicked up quite a fuss out there,” Ekliptika remarked calmly.

“I was incorrectly dressed at yesterday evenings function. I will not be making the same mistake again.” Razorsharp tucked a mini-blaster inside her tightly fitted boot. “Do I appear distracting enough?”

“Judging by the mechs’ reactions, I’d say so. No katana tonight?”

“That is a problem. I suppose I shall have to trust you and Sirius to protect me.” She adjusted a pin in her hair. “Are we prepared to go, then?”

“Just waiting for you to finish up.”

“Then we should go. Rodimus Prime will not want to be late.”

Ekliptika watched the party break up, and moved closer to Rodimus’ side. “She hasn’t come back yet.”

“Any problem?” he asked softly, moving toward the door. Ekliptika followed, optics alert as they made their way back to the residential quarters.

“None reported. Sirius is with her, and he’s made all his check-ins with nothing to report.” She reached out to deactivate the lock on his suite, but he stopped her.

“Can we talk a minute, in your quarters? I don’t really want to be interrupted.”

Her brows knit together, but she keyed the combination to her door. “Sure. Come on in.” She detached her cape and dropped it over a chair. “I hate that thing,” she muttered.

Rodimus laughed. “So does Optimus. It’s half the reason he dislikes diplomatic functions. He hates dressing up and standing around talking about nothing.”

“And you don’t mind?” Ekliptika asked, rolling her shoulders now freed from the weight.

“There’s a lot of stuff that gets said without someone just up and saying it. Optimus is a straightforward mech. He resents the time it takes to get around to the point of these things, especially when it’s his time. ‘Why can’t they just say what it is they want?’” Rod’s impression of Optimus was dead on.

Ekliptika smiled in spite of herself. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“You. Me. Us, maybe?” he replied hopefully.

The smile fell. “I think you’re imagining things, Rodimus Prime. There is no ‘us.’”

Rod wasn’t deterred. “I know. Not yet, anyway. I wanted you to know I think you’re very attractive, though.”

“You think half the femmes in Iacon are attractive, Rodimus Prime. They say you ‘kiss the girls and make them cry.’ Is it true?” Ekliptika bantered.

“Hey, I don’t kiss and tell,” he replied.

“Well, we’ve agreed on the kissing part, at least,” she quipped back.

“Try me and find out,” he offered.

Ekliptika shook her head. “I don’t think so. I don’t want to be the next in a line of disappointed femmes. Why am I always saying that?” she asked herself.

“Hey, if some other mech hurt you, then he’s an idiot. You’re really wonderful. He’s got to be dead or crazy to let you go,” Rod insisted.

“A little of both,” Ekliptika admitted before she could stop herself.

“Well, whoever he was, and whatever he did, don’t judge me by his mistakes.”

“I just don’t want to rush anything. Maybe it’s better to just wait.”

Rod closed on her, stopping mere inches away. “What are you waiting for, Lieutenant? To just serve the Autobots and die? You deserve a lot more than that.”

He was going to kiss her, Ekliptika knew. And in the same instant, she knew she didn’t want to stop him. He loomed closer and closer, and she let her optics drift off-line, anticipating the instant he would touch her. All her internal proximity sensors were on overload.

Pounding on the door shattered the moment, and Ekliptika jumped back from Rodimus. Before she could answer it, the door slipped open on its silent runners, and Sirius burst into the room.

“They’ve arrested Lady Razorsharp,” he announced without preamble, cape flapping as he stormed about the room. “They’re holding her on the detention level and won’t let me speak to her.” He paused in his pacing to look at them, then darkness fell over his expression, and he stomped toward the door. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted. I’ll go now.”

“Sirius, wait-” Ekliptika began, but he was gone and the door closed before she could stop him. “Damn,” she muttered, starting after him. Then she paused and looked over at Rod. “I’m sorry?” she offered with a half-shrug.

“Go,” he instructed her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ekliptika opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it and ran out after Sirius.

“Sirius, wait a moment,” Ekliptika called as she caught up with him.

“T’salya dohl mayr’cha see borzrah!” Sirius grated in Old Decepticon. _You grovel at the feet of a murderer!_ His head snapped to the side as Ekliptika backhanded him casually.

“I’m your superior officer, child, and your elder. Mind how you speak to me,” she instructed, falling back on harsh Decepticon discipline.

Sirius was instantly contrite. “I apologize. It will not happen again.”

“Good. Now what is this about your mother being arrested?”

“We were on our way back to the rooms when some of the Governor’s security people took her into custody. I went down to the detention area with them, but they put her in a cell and wouldn’t let me stay or speak with her. So I came to get you.” He visibly struggled to hold his countenance still and won.

For a moment, she had forgotten he was not an experienced soldier but an adolescent with superficial training and a mother he couldn’t reach. “It’s all right, Sirius. We’ll figure this out. Now take me to the detention level and I’ll find out what’s happened.”

“You cannot see the Lady Razorsharp.”

Ekliptika was unimpressed by the guard’s cold demeanor. “Is that going to be your final word on the subject?”

“The prisoner will be questioned in the morning. You can see her after that,” the guard stated.

Ekliptika turned to Sirius. “Go wake Governor Barzan and explain that I need him down here. Do not mention the Lady Razorsharp.”

“Hey, wait!” the guard half-shouted, but Sirius was already out the door. “What’d you do that for?”

“Let me explain,” Ekliptika smirked. “You have a superior, yes?” When he nodded, she nodded back smugly. “Of course you do. And he has a superior also. Well, at some point the chain of command reaches the governor. I’m just clipping the links in between.” She paused to let the idea sink in. “Or, you can let me speak to Lady Razorsharp, and the governor will get his beauty sleep. Don’t think too long, though. Sirius is in quite a mood. It shouldn’t take him too long to get to the governor’s quarters.”

The guard hesitated all of half a minute. “Just don’t tell anyone I let you in.” He pressed a switch on his console, and the energy distortion in the doorway behind his desk faded.

Ekliptika stepped through, and the field crackled back into place. “I assume you will let me out again when I am ready?” she asked.

The guard nodded. “Just hurry up. And call off the kid. If he wakes the governor I’m toast.”

Ekliptika tapped her communicator. “Sirius, disregard my last order. Go and wait for me with Rodimus Prime.” He acknowledged, and she cut the connection. “I can always get him back, so don’t do anything foolish,” she told the guard.

The cell at the end of the hall was the only one illuminated, and slowly Ekliptika made her way to it. Razorsharp was stretched out on the narrow bunk, a space-blanket drawn over her legs. Ekliptika was convinced she was in recharge until she spoke.

“I did wonder if they would let someone in. Sirius was kicking up a fuss a while ago.” She sat up, letting her feet fall to the deck, then stood. “So what are we going to do?”

“I’m working on that,” Ekliptika replied. “I think the first thing is for you to explain how you happened to get arrested. Then I can try to get you released to my custody, or at least transferred to house arrest at the suite. This is undignified, which I will bring up often and loudly. But a lot of it hangs on why they’ve got you locked up.” She looked at Razorsharp expectantly.

“Murder,” the Deceptifemme replied calmly.

To Ekliptika’s credit, she didn’t shriek or faint. “Really?” she asked as though it were a bit of gossip. “Did you happen to do it?”

“Don’t you think I would?” Razor snapped back.

Ekliptika shook her head. “I’m fairly certain you could and would. But right now it’s a matter of DID you, not WOULD you. So, did you?”

“Alas, no. Though another time and place I cheerfully would have.” Razorsharp seemed pleased with this revelation.

Ekliptika sighed in exasperation. “Well, for Primus’ sake, let’s not go around repeating that little statement too often, hmm?” She took several deep breaths trying to regulate her quickly rising temperature. “Why?”

“Why didn’t I, or why would I?”

“The second. Then you can explain why I should believe that you didn’t.” She leaned back against the wall, arms and ankles crossed.

“I knew him from Mars,” Razorsharp began. “He had some kind of agreement with the Lord Governor. Somehow, the arrangement went bad, and we were betrayed. Many Decepticons died because he betrayed us. So you can see why I would.”

“I’ll give you that much,” Ekliptika replied calmly. “So what happened tonight?”

“I spotted him last night at the opening reception. It took me quite a while to recognize him; so much has happened since I was a raw recruit on Mars. Tonight he slipped out early and I followed him.” Razorsharp paused in her narrative.

“Why? Who was he to you?”

“Niral Virunai. As I said, His Excellency had some dealings with him, though I was not yet his bheancoran and I was not privy to many of his secrets. But somehow, Virunai betrayed my master and a number of Decepticons somehow died. Something that was good in His Excellency died after that, and I pursued Virunai to question him about it; about what he had done or said that led to such a tragedy. I only went after him to find the truth. And I swear on my Lord and Master’s spark that I left him well and functioning.”

Ekliptika regarded her steadily for a moment, then pushed herself away from the wall. “All right, then,” she said shortly, then started back down the long hallway.

“Wait!” Razorsharp called. “Where are you going?” The anxiety was beginning to show on her face.

Ekliptika turned back to her. “To find out who really killed Niral Virunai, of course,” she replied. “Where else? And to see about getting you released, if I can.”

“In that order?” Razorsharp asked, her features an even mask again.

“Not if I can help it.” Ekliptika activated her communicator. “Sirius? Get the governor down here. Then make sure Rodimus is secure in the suite and join me.” Once she’d signed off she looked back at Razor. “I’m going to wait out by the desk for the governor. Try not to worry.”

“Why would I worry? I am only accused of murder. It could be much worse.”

“Really? How?”

“I could be guilty.”

Ekliptika had to wait only a few minute before the governor arrived, complete with a pair of guards. He was followed shortly by Sirius, and to her horror, Rodimus Prime. The last thing she needed now was him hovering over her. For the moment, however, he would have to be relegated to the background.

“Governor Barzan. I’m sorry to have to wake you,” she began.

“Lieutenant Ekliptika. I hope this is very important. There are several key points on tomorrow’s agenda,” he pointed out.

“Of course, sir, and out of respect for that fact, I will certainly make this as quick as I can.” She took a deep breath. “It is completely unacceptable for Lady Razorsharp to be incarcerated like this.”

His astonishment was clear. “Lady Razorsharp has been incarcerated?” At her nod, he turned to the detention center’s guard. “What is going on down here?”

The guard quailed under the fierce gaze. “It was the Haamdane representative. He insisted that she killed a member of their delegation and that we hold her while they prepared to present the evidence against her. Her bodyguard stormed around, demanding to see her, then went off and his superior came in and started threatening to wake people up and-”

Barzan cut him off. “All right. I get the general idea.” He turned to one of his personal guards. “Go and fetch the Haamdane representative. We’ll have this figured out soon.” The guard saluted and was gone. Barzan turned back to the cell guard. “Go now and fetch the Lady Razorsharp. And hope that the Cybertronian representative does not wish to have you locked up.” The guard scurried away.

“There’s no need, Governor,” Rodimus spoke up smoothly. “I’m sure he was just doing his job. Doubtless he was ordered by the Haamdane not to inform us so that Rangai Durkal could have that honor.”

“I do hope that is not the case,” the Governor said. “I know you have been at odds over this treaty.”

“That’s because it’s none of Haamdai’s business what our plans for re-patriating the Decepticons are, nor will we ask for a Galactic Council vote before we implement them. It’s an internal matter for Cybertron to work out on her own.” Rodimus sounded adamant.

“There is discussion that it is a matter for the Galactic Council. The Decepticons have been known to create havoc in quite a few systems. Many delegates feel they have a right to know what is going to happen with them,” Barzan countered gently.

“This Council, it’s not about next vorn, or the five vorns after it,” Rodimus declared. “It’s about establishing a way for us to work together indefinitely. And I believe that the Decepticons will return to Cybertron and then we will work things out there. But the Galactic Council is about bigger things.”

“Rodimus Prime is entirely correct,” came a voice from the door to the detention cells. Razorsharp stood there, her elbow in the grip of the guard. She fixed him with a withering stare, and he quickly released her. Then she moved to stand next to her son, who quickly removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders.

She smiled at him briefly. “Thank you, my son. The Decepticons wish to return to Cybertron,” she explained to Barzan. “It has been their dream for vorns, and if peace with the Autobots is the price, I think they will pay it gladly.”

“What you think is irrelevant,” came a harsh voice from the other door.

Rodimus shook his head. “This party is getting way too crowded,” he muttered.

Rangai Durkal was clearly in a foul mood, as were the guards with him. “Governor, what is my prisoner doing out of her cell? I was assured that she would be where I left her when I came back to interrogate her in the morning.”

Sirius stirred restlessly, but identical looks from Ekliptika and Razorsharp stilled him as Governor Barzan moved to intercept Durkal.

“Legate Durkal, unless you have some proof of wrong-doing-”

“Is not the lifeless corpse of my comrade proof enough? You have seen it yourself, Barzan. She is responsible!” Durkal declared, one finger dramatically pointed at Razorsharp.

Barzan tried again. “Legate, you know that we deeply regret the death of your party-member. But it much too early to begin locking up suspects, especially without any kind of evidence against-”

Durkal interrupted again. “I have evidence.” He gestured one of his many guards forward. “Show it,” he ordered.

The guard negligently flipped his wrist, letting the wrapped object unroll and clatter to the metal floor. Razorsharp’s katana gleamed in the bright light, except where dark sticky fluid marred it.

Razor darted forward to seize it, and was roughly grasped and held by Durkal’s guards. She struggled valiantly, and they pulled her further back, toward the cells.

“Wait just a moment!” Ekliptika stepped into the middle of the fray, trying to get between the guards and Sirius, who was rapidly losing what little was left of his temper. “There is still no proof that it was Lady Razorsharp on the other end of the blade.”

“It’s her blade!” Durkal howled.

“Granted, but until you can prove that she was the murderer, I demand that she be released!” Ekliptika demanded.

“As the primary suspect and owner of the weapon, I demand she be confined!” Durkal ordered.

“She’s a member of the Decepticon Royal Family and the Cybertronian delegation. She cannot be locked up like a common criminal.” Ekliptika insisted.

“She is a murderer!”

Barzan stepped between them. “Legate, Lieutenant, we must come to some kind of agreement. For the moment, I would like to have Lady Razorsharp in protective custody. Just for the moment!” he insisted over the protest of Ekliptika and Sirius while Durkal smirked. “However, I do not believe it would be to anyone’s advantage for her to be here on the detention level. So, Lady, if you will agree to remain in your quarters, I will post some of my guards outside the door to guarantee your safety.”

“To guarantee my safety or guarantee I don’t go anywhere?” Razorsharp asked.

“Whichever way it pleases you to think about it,” Barzan admitted. “Will you agree?”

“Assuming it’s acceptable to Rodimus Prime and the Lieutenant.” Rodimus only nodded, but Ekliptika spoke up. “I need to be able to investigate Lady Razorsharp’s alleged involvement in this matter.”

“That can be arranged,” Barzan agreed. “Legate, are you satisfied?”

“I do not think the Autobot security guard should be involved in such a sensitive investigation,” he declared.

“Lieutenant Ekliptika is the Head of Diplomatic Security,” Rodimus informed him. “It seems appropriate to me that she investigate in defense of Razorsharp.”

“Oh, very well. But we will be doing our own investigating, as well.” Durkal nodded at his guards, and they released Razorsharp, then collected her sword before she could reach it. “This will remain in our possession until the Lady Razorsharp’s innocence can be proved.”

To her credit, the Lady Razorsharp allowed herself to be escorted back to her quarters, a clutch of stony-faced guards flanking her, Sirius in tow. She walked solemnly, still regal though her gown was rumpled, her coif coming undone. Behind her, she could sense her son's anger, smoldering in an echo of his father’s.

_If they but knew, they would not dare,_ Razor thought darkly.

The small procession stopped at the door to Rodimus’ suite, and the captain of the guard urged Razorsharp forward, his hand wrapped around her bicep. “The code, if you please, your Ladyship,” he ordered, not relaxing his grip as Razor stepped up to the keypad and typed in her passcode. The light on the lock flashed green, and the door slid open.

“Check the vents,” ordered the captain, still not releasing Razor's arm. “Look for any other weapons that may be in Lady Razorsharp's quarters.” He nudged her meaningfully. “We can't have you doing harm to yourself, now can we?”

Razor kept her chin high. “I am affronted, not suicidal,” she grated, as Sirius muttered curses in Old Decepticon under his breath. “Do whatever it is you think you need to do to feel...secure.”

One of the other guards came out of Razor’s suite with her wakizashi, the short, dagger-like sword matched to her katana. “This was the only weapon we found, sir.” He handed it to the captain, who inspected the fine craft of the deadly little object.

“Very nice, my lady,” he mused. “I suspect being a bean-chora has its perks.”

Sirius rumbled a terse reply before Razor could stop him. “Bheancoran, ol'cha layah.” _Bheancoran, you slag-drinker._

“Aizturêt!” Razor hissed. _Stop it!_

“Hey!” The captain shook Razor a little for emphasis. “In Basic or keep silent!”

Having searched all the possible exits from the suite, the guards returned to their commander. “Everything is secure, sir.”

Only then did the captain of the guard release his hold on Razor, and she rubbed her arm to regain sensation in the pale gray skin. “Good. Well, my lady, my work here is completed.” He tapped the wakizashi against his armored thigh. “Rest assured, this will be kept safe in the vault until such time as you may claim it.” He sketched her a half-bow, smirking when Razor drew herself up even more. “Good night, your Ladyship.”

As the door closed, Razor stood as she had through the entire exchange, with her back towards the door. Sirius noticed her hands were clenched into tight fists, hidden in the folds of his cloak. Without a word, Razor walked stoically from the living area to her private chamber, perching on the edge of the richly upholstered recharge berth, her scarlet optics blank and unseeing.

After a few moments, Razor looked up, startled to see her son before her, an expression of sorrow and frustration and concern mixed on his young face. He looked so much like his father at that moment, trying to be the stoic, yet caring about her, wanting to make her pain his own, and she laid her palm against the berth beside her. Knowing she meant for him to sit, Sirius did so, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she sat forward, her head in her hands.

The guards Barzan promised had stationed themselves outside the door by the time Rodimus and Ekliptika finally returned to the suite. They entered the living space silently, and Rodimus dropped heavily into a deeply cut chair.

“That’s a nightmare I don’t care to relive,” he groaned, finally unclipping his formal cloak.

“Concur,” Ekliptika stated, leaning into a corner.

Rodimus rolled his head on the back of the chair to look at her. “For the love of Primus, sit down, Lieutenant. You look ready to drop.”

“I can’t afford the time to rest,” Ekliptika protested, but she settled uneasily on the sofa all the same. “What do we KNOW about what happened tonight?”

“Lady Razorsharp was wrongly accused of murder,” Sirius spoke up from the door to Razor’s quarters.

“That’s right. You were with Razorsharp all night,” Rodimus said. “You didn’t see her kill anyone, right?”

“Correct. However, I believe my assertions will not carry much weight. I will be accused of lying to protect my mother.” Sirius’ dark expression grew darker still.

“You would be,” came Razorsharp’s lyrical voice.

Ekliptika sat up. “What?!”

Razorsharp rejoined them, now decked out in her usual armor. “You are forgetting that for a space of several minutes, you did not have a direct view of me.”

“You were in an un-used room, and there were no other entrances. No one could have gotten near you and the Haamdane.... Oh, no.” The realization crashed over him.

Ekliptika sighed from the couch. “Sirius, exactly what kind of honor guard lets the subject out of his sight? Really, I’d like to know.”

“Do not be angry with him, Lieutenant. I directed him to allow me some privacy with Niral Virunai. He was only following my orders,” Razorsharp supplied.

“That’s exactly what I ordered him NOT to do,” Ekliptika snapped, pushing herself off the sofa. “He was to follow my orders, and Rodimus’, but not yours. I thought we were clear on that!”

“I did what you ordered!” Sirius insisted. “I secured the area and made certain no one could overhear or approach without my seeing. I was protecting her!”

“You’ve isolated her. Now she has no alibi, no way to prove it couldn’t have been her. You’ve made my job that much harder!” Ekliptika shouted.

Rodimus intercepted her storming exit, leading her back to the sofa. “Come on, Ekliptika, sit down.” Clearly reluctant, she followed his directive. “Give the kid a break. You heard him. He thought he was doing the right thing. Let’s figure out how to get out of this mess rather than gripe about how we got into it. So we KNOW the accusation in false.” The statement was half-way between a comment and a question. Before Sirius could bristle or protest, Ekliptika spoke up.

“Lady Razorsharp has denied killing him. I have no reason to doubt her statement.” She pressed the heels of her hands over her optics. “I feel like my CPU is about to overload,” she groaned.

Rodimus wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her back. Neither of them caught Sirius’ frown. “Do you want to let this go for tonight and hit it fresh in the morning?” Rod asked.

She shook her head and arched her back away from his touch. Rod let his arm drop on the back of the sofa without comment. “I want to be able to survey the scene tomorrow morning, and to do that, I need all the information I can get tonight.”

“You can’t run yourself into the ground, either,” Rodimus protested. “Let me walk you back to your quarters.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rodimus Prime,” Ekliptika scoffed. “If you walk me back to my quarters, I will have to walk back here with you to be certain you are secure for the night. Will you walk me back to my quarters again after that? We will end up passing the night walking back and forth across the hall.”

“Don’t think I can get across a hall by myself?” Rod asked. “I managed pretty well against Unicron, and I was a lot younger then.”

“Enough of this!” Sirius finally shouted. “I will escort the Lieutenant back...when she wishes to go, and not before.” He glared balefully at Rodimus Prime.

Rod only chuckled. “Okay, kid. Have it your way. When Ekliptika’s ready, you can walk her back.” He made it sound like a treat offered a favored young relative. “So what else do we need to go over?”

Ekliptika leaned forward, elbows on knees, fingertips pressed to her temples. “I don’t know. I can’t seem to get my thoughts in order.”

Rod leaned forward as well, lightly draping his arm across her shoulders. “Get some rest, hit the scene early. Then when you have a better idea what you’re dealing with, you can ask Razorsharp to clarify things. But if you can’t concentrate, you can’t function. No one is going to begrudge you some sleep, especially at this hour.”

Ekliptika heaved a resigned sigh. “You win, Rodimus. I will rest.” She rose from his tentative embrace and faced Sirius. “You may walk me back now if you wish. Though since it is only across the hall, perhaps it is unnecessary.”

He took her arm gently. “I am only too happy to escort you,’ he insisted. “If you will excuse me, Maman,” he directed to Razorsharp. She inclined her head silently as they left.

“You should not let him treat you like that,” Sirius declared gravely. “It is wrong for him to be so familiar with you.”

“It’s the way Autobots are, Sirius. More open, more tactile. They express concern and support for others through touch. It’s a habit they picked up during their exile on Earth. You will just have to get used to it,” she explained.

“He asked me personal questions about you, Lieutenant Ekliptika. Questions no mech should ask about a bonded femme,” Sirius insisted.

“I think any bond I had during the Great War is a moot point now, since I have been dead and my former mate reconfigured and declared mad,” she replied gently. “The line has to be drawn somewhere. Whatever loyalty I owed to Megatron is long-since paid.”

“But Rodimus Prime is an Autobot!” Sirius asserted.

“As am I now, Sirius. It is time for me to move forward, not stare into the past.” She looked over his shoulder at the impassive Rhodian guards. “And a public corridor is not the place for this discussion.” She keyed open the door to her quarters. “Take over guarding Rodimus in the morning. I will investigate the scene of the crime and try to determine what happened.”

“Who will guard the Lady Razorsharp?” he asked indignantly.

She pointed to the guards behind him. “Them,” she replied simply. “Rest well, Lord Sirius,” and the door slid shut.

Ekliptika returned to the suite just before the mid-day break. The guards nodded politely as she deactivated the electronic door lock. She entered and waited until the door had re-sealed itself before speaking.

“Bastard sparks of five-faced traitors,” she muttered, throwing her blasters onto the sofa. She kicked it for good measure, but it did little to relieve her irritation.

“That doesn’t sound promising,” Razorsharp commented from the doorway to her room. “I take it the investigation is not proceeding well?”

“They sanitized the scene,” Ekliptika growled. “There’s no sign of what happened. No blood, or whatever the Haamdai use for blood, no energy signatures, no nothing. And the body, which I stood around for three cycles waiting to see, has been cremated. No residual evidence.”

“So there is only my katana and the evidence it contains?” Razor asked.

“Which I can’t seem to get access to. I’ve got to tell you, it’s not looking good.”

“I did not kill Niral Virunai. There must be some proof of this somewhere,” Razor insisted.

“Well, I have these,” Ekliptika said, pulling a handful of discs from internal storage. “They’re security recordings from the corridor last night.”

“So we can see who really attacked Virunai?”

“Maybe.” Ekliptika put the first disk in the multi-media player. “But considering how difficult everything else about this is, I’m surprised I got these so easily.”

“We can always hope.” They watched as the scene unfolded: Sirius appeared in the bottom of the frame. He tested doors, finally finding one that opened. They watched as he appeared to inspect the room, then escort Razorsharp in. Niral Virunai joined her, and Sirius stood guard impassively outside. After a few moments, Razorsharp reappeared, clearly agitated, and she stormed off-camera, Sirius hustling to keep up.

“That’s certainly not very informative,” Ekliptika commented as the watched the empty corridor. “Is it about how you remember?”

“Yes,” Razorsharp replied shortly.

Ekliptika glanced at her, then activated the fast-forward. The time-counter in the corner of the screen sped by, but they saw no one appear on the screen. Finally, Rangai Durkal and his contingent of guards raced onto the scene. Ekliptika resumed the normal speed, and they watched silently as the guards milled around while Durkal entered the room, ceremonial robes flaring. He returned, gesticulated wildly to a member of his contingent, then shut the door. Then Governor Barzan showed up and entered the room.

Ekliptika shut off the playback. “That’s pretty clearly when they found the body.”

“But no one else entered the room,” Razorsharp protested. “And I didn’t have my katana with me. How did it get there?”

“Who knows? Maybe one of these has the coverage for the room.” She was trading the discs in the drive when the door started to slide open. Faster than thought, Ekliptika stepped between Razorsharp and the opening door, a titanium dagger in her hand. As Rodimus came through the door, she relaxed her posture, letting the knife spin in her hand before sub-spacing it.

“Any luck?” he asked as Sirius followed him in and the door sealed.

“Nothing useful,” Ekliptika replied. “The Haamdane guards or whoever cleaned up all the evidence. No way I can get anything useful at the scene.” She dropped another disc into the player. “We’re reviewing the security recordings now. How is the conference?”

Rod shrugged. “I’m getting some looks. But no one seems to really know what happened, and her Ladyship’s reputation, or that of the Decepticons, has preceded her. So no one seems really shocked.”

“And the Accords?” Razorsharp asked.

“Should be approved and signed on time. Not much question about it. Then there’ll be another round of parties and some diplomatic visiting back and forth. I’m getting some questions about my schedule after the conference ends.” He took the remote from Ekliptika. “You up to some more traveling?” he asked casually.

“I will accept whatever duty Optimus Prime assigns me,” she replied coolly, taking the remote back. The screen flickered to life again. “This is no good,” she murmured after a few minutes. “It’s just another view of the same hall.” She changed discs again, with similar results. “It’s all the same stuff. Nothing from in the room itself.”

Rodimus shuffled through the discs. “You said the Haamdane went through everything first?”

“It looks like it. I can’t prove they did it, but someone went through and scrubbed it down. Who else has a reason?”

“Whoever really killed What’s-His-Name,” Rod replied.

“Niral Virunai,” Razorsharp supplied. She had seated herself on the sofa and seemed withdrawn, deep in thought. Sirius hovered silent and protective over her.

“Yeah, whatever.” Rod brushed it aside. “My point is, why frame Lady Razorsharp? What is the murderer trying to gain?”

Ekliptika cast a glance toward the Decepticons. “She knew of him from her time on Mars.”

Now Rodimus looked over at them. “How?”

She drew him toward the door to his room, then through. “I don’t want Sirius to hear,” she said softly at his confused look. “Niral Virunai apparently provided false information to Governor Straxus. She was trying to get the details from him.”

“And Sirius can’t hear this?” Rod questioned.

“It’s better for him if he doesn’t hear us talking about his father. I think he has very confused feelings in that area.”

He regarded her for a moment. “So why won’t you?”

Now she was the one confused. “Why won’t I what?”

“Go with me on the other diplomatic missions. You made it sound like you’re not having a good time.”

“A good time?” she parroted. “I’m trying to clear one diplomat of the death of another diplomat. It’s not the top of my list for fun.” She paused a moment. “And I never said that I wouldn’t go. It’s up to Optimus Prime, if he wishes to assign me in that capacity.”

He stepped closer to her, filling her vision. “I can request that you be assigned.”

She dimmed her optics, shaking her head. “No. Please don’t. Don’t make this anymore complicated than it is.”

He tilted her head up, one finger under her chin. “And just how complicated is it?” he whispered.

“This complicated,” she replied. She leaned forward, on her toes, and kissed him.

“Yeah, I’d say that complicates things,” Rod said after they finally pulled apart. “And here I thought you didn’t care.”

“I didn’t want to, if it’s any consolation.” She pushed herself further away, completely out of his reach. “But you see why you can’t request me to head an security missions.”

He resisted an urge to wrap his arms around her again. “Not really, no. But I‘ll listen if you want to explain it.”

She sighed, leaning against the wall. “If you did, I’d never know if it was because you think I’m a competent officer, or because of your feelings for me.” She shook her head. “Why are we even talking about this? There’s plenty of more complicated stuff going on here than us.”

“‘The problems of two people don’t amount to a hill of beans in the crazy world?’”

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Something like that.” She looked around the dim room. “You know, if we stay here much longer, someone’s going to start making assumptions.”

He looked at the door, clearly reluctant to go back out. “And the reason we barricaded ourselves in here, should someone ask?”

“Razorsharp won’t ask, and it’s none of Sirius’ business,” she replied. Then she reached to the side, and the door was open before he could protest.

“Are we any closer to an answer than we were last night?” Sirius asked as they returned to the sitting room.

Ekliptika sighed. “Not really. All we seem to be able to do is draw the circle tighter around Lady Razorsharp. Nothing but her word to say she is innocent.”

“Do you no longer believe me?” Razor asked quietly.

“I believe you,” Ekliptika asserted. “But I don’t know how to prove it. And I’m not convinced that what I could get access to hasn’t been tampered with.” She looked at the pile of discs. “There is coverage from three different angles in the hall, but they had nothing from the room.”

“Maybe we should try a different angle,” Rodimus suggested. He waited until they were all looking at him. “Self-defense. He lured her to the room and tried to take advantage of her. She struck back the only way she could.”

“NO!”

Since the response came from all three other bots, Rodimus dropped the idea immediately. “Just a thought. So what are we going to do?”

“I can think of only one thing that may help,” Ekliptika said after a moment. She looked over at Razorsharp. “You remember Mars?”

It flashed clearly in Razorsharp’s mind then. Sneaking into the empty computer core at New Polyhex, Ekliptika lifting the data from the mainframe. “I remember,” she replied. “Will it work?”

“Maybe. I know I can get the data. What I can do with it afterward is the question.”

“What are we talking about here?” Rodimus asked.

“My primary function was two-part,” Ekliptika began. “I used to infiltrate sensitive enemy areas and gather information. Then I’d get it back to Iacon for processing.”

“Sounds routine,” Rod commented.

“It’s not. I can bring back whole d-bases. Huge amounts of data.”

“What is the risk to Lady Razorsharp?” Sirius asked sternly.

“Negligible. It’s designed to be untraceable to the host system. On the other hand, it’s not designed to be used on sentient systems, but I’m confident that there will be little damage. The problem is how to convert it to something we can use.”

“What do we need?” Rodimus asked, seating himself on the couch.

“A VR visor, and a way to record from it. A blank disc to record to,” she explained.

“Compact operation,” Sirius commented.

“Not really. It takes a whole lab and a bank of computers at Iacon. But I don’t need to retrieve that much data this time. And I’m looking for something specific, instead of just doing a scoop-and-run.” She settled on the sofa as well, though maintaining a distance from Rodimus.

“Wait here a moment,” Sirius said, heading for the door to the recharge chamber. He returned a moment later with a recreational VR visor and a small Audio-Video Disc Recorder. He offered them, almost shyly, to Ekliptika.

“Will these suffice?” he asked.

She accepted them gravely and examined them, turning them over and over in her hands. “They might.” She slipped on the visor and tested the playback. Instantly, she was confronted with simpering femmes in various states of undress. She stoically removed the disc and offered it to Sirius. “I believe this is yours,” she said neutrally. “Have you a blank I can use?”

“I’ve got one,” Rod offered. “I keep spares around for the odd journal entry.” He went to collect one and returned quickly. “So do Sirius and I get to watch?”

“I have no objection,” Razorsharp stated. “Have you any objections, Lieutenant?”

“Just keep the noise down while I’m inside. If I can focus all my attention on finding the information, I can be in and done that much faster.” She stood up and moved to the large open space between a low table and the wall. “Razorsharp, if you would, please?” she asked, gesturing to the space in front of her. “Sirius, please be so good as to stand behind your mother. I do not know the exact effect this will have on her.”

Rodimus leaned forward on the sofa. “What about the exact effect this will have on you?” he asked, expression intense.

“Me?” Ekliptika asked. “I was designed to do this. As long as I can recall, this has been my purpose. I’ll be fine.”

Rod’s look was dubious, but he said nothing.

Ekliptika fitted the visor in place, shifting it slightly until it was comfortable. “Are we all ready, then?” At the assent from the others, she extended a slim probe from her wrist, tilting her palm away as the instrument grazed it.

“I thought the access was in your knuckle,” Razorsharp commented as the titanium rod came to a halt.

“Always use the correct tool for the job,” Ekliptika quipped. “This one is a bit more delicate. Better for this kind of work.” She extended her arm toward Razor. “Be still now. Think only of what happened between you and Niral Virunai. Let him fill your every thought. Recall every detail, and share it with me.”

The probe slipped gently into a small access port behind Razorsharp’s ear, and slowly, Ekliptika’s palm came to rest on her head.

Razor stiffened as Ekliptika's probe slid home, unable to suppress a tiny gasp as the icy metal snicked into place. Sirius' hands tensed on her shoulders, but relaxed as she made a small noise in the back of her throat. Then all at once, the vision of Ekliptika, and Rodimus behind her, melted into a single bright puddle of scarlet and yellow. Sensation fled, taking sound with it, and then the colors dimmed into a cold blank gray twilight. She floated there for a time, detached from the world, yet oddly at peace. Then, the torrent of memories began.

The grayness reshaped itself into a hazy bulk, finally forming into the navy-skinned Niral Virunai, the Haamdane delegate. His oversized mouth, rimmed with rubbery, deep violet lips, worked soundlessly, showing his short, needle-sharp teeth as glints of pearl white. Intrigued, Razor pulled back her focus with effort, adding the sight of his bulbous, heavy-lidded eyes, their green irises almost glowing in the near-darkness of the room. Languidly, she allowed sound to filter back into her awareness, replaying the conversation no security camera had been able to capture.

“--is of no concern to you, my lady,” the alien diplomat was saying, his thick accent giving his words an almost guttural growl. “It pains me to hear of His Excellency's demise, and I would not dishonor his memory by dredging up old arguments.”

Frustrated, Razor let anger color her own optics a bright ruby. “I simply want the truth from you, Your Grace, nothing more.”

“The truth is what one makes it, my lady. What I know as the truth may not be satisfactory to you,” Virunai prevaricated.

“The truth, whatever it may be, is all I have left to seek. Now tell me what you said to His Excellency,” Razorsharp insisted.

He sighed. “If it will satisfy you, then very well. I was passed some information that listed the occupants of certain Autobot detention stations. Among the names was a certain Decepticon femme, listed as a close relative of the Governor of New Polyhex on Mars. I went to Mars and offered the Governor the information.”

“Sold it to him, you mean,” Razorsharp quipped.

“He would never have believed me if I simply offered it without compensation. So yes, I charged him for it. He expected it. It was only after the unsuccessful raid on that particular location that I discovered I had been the one set up. It was my loyalty being tested, and I failed miserably.”

“So why aren’t you dead?” Razor asked shrewdly.

“I’m immune to my planet’s death-penalty. A perk of being a member of the royal family, however minor. But my political career was ruined. I will never achieve the heights for which I was destined.”

She scoffed. “I hardly think that is the worst fate that can befall you. By your own admission, you escaped death. You remain on your homeworld, a respected member of society. I must confess I have little sympathy for you.” She studied him for a minute. “What became of His Excellency’s...relative?”

“She wasn’t there. She was never there. For all I know, she was a figment they made up to tempt him,” he admitted dejectedly.

“She was very real,” Razor told him. “She was, in all likelihood, his long-missing sister.” She stared at him. “Do you know anything more? Anything that might lead me to her?”

He stared at the ceiling for a long, silent minute. “What more there is to say cannot be said here. There will be diplomatic visits undertaken after this conference is over and the Accords signed. Can I speak to you on Cybertron?”

She nodded. “I will make myself available at that time. Thank you for your candor, Niral Virunai.” She turned to leave.

“Honor to Deceptica, Lady Razorsharp.”

She left without responding.

Darkness engulfed Razorsharp as the connection between her and Ekliptika was broken, and she reeled on her feet. Warm hands pressed against her shoulder blades, and she knew it was Sirius, holding her up. Slowly she let her optics power up again, waiting as the seeming supernova of light resolved itself back into recognized shapes.

Ekliptika still wore the visor, and Razor traced the wire with her optics to the recording unit, where the disc spun inside, flashing like a crystal prism in a shaft of light. The Autobot’s hand was still pressed behind her ear, though the probe was mercifully retracted.

“Maman, you should sit,” Sirius whispered softly.

“In a moment,” she replied just as quietly. “I do not wish to disrupt the Lieutenant.”

The hand came away from her head. “All done,” Ekliptika chirped. She pushed the visor up from her eyes. “That was certainly refreshing.”

Razorsharp let Sirius lead her to a chair and sank into it gratefully. “How can you be so cheerful? I feel as though my head has been turned inside out. The last time I saw you do it, you were exhausted.”

“That’s because it was the entire contents of an enemy database,” Ekliptika replied. “This was a walk in the park in comparison.” She dropped the visor on the table and pulled the disc from the recorder. “Well, I’m off to see Barzan.”

She was halfway to the door before Rodimus could catch her. He bolted off the sofa and grasped her by the elbow.

“Hold on there a second. You can’t just go traipsing off the Governor’s office and plunk this down in front of him.”

“Why not?” Ekliptika looked puzzled.

“There’s a question of style involved,” Rodimus insisted.

“Is everything with you going to be a question of style?” she asked, too exasperated to guard her emotions.

“You’ll get used to it,” he answered shortly. “Now look. I have to get back to the session in just a few minutes. You two sit tight,” he said, pointing at Razor and Sirius. “I need to talk to the Lieutenant privately a moment. Then Sirius can escort me back to the meeting chambers.” This time it was Rodimus plunging heedlessly out the door, Ekliptika’s elbow caught in his grasp.

They were past the guards in the hall and into her quarters before Ekliptika could dig in her heels and free herself from his grip.

“What in Hellas do you think-” Her tirade was broken off when he kissed her, once again overwhelming her senses.

She staggered a little when he finally released her, her optics blazing purple flame. “-- you’re doing?” she finished.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

“It seems that’s exactly what you did.” She sighed gently. “Rodimus, the middle of a murder investigation is not the time to haul me into a dark room for a stolen kiss.”

“How about if I just borrow it and give it back later?” Rod teased her.

“Murder, remember? Razorsharp is my friend, and I am trying to prove her innocence. Once I get that done, we’ll...talk, all right? It’s the best I can do right now.”

“Good enough for me,” he agreed. “Look, I want to make a real spectacle out of this disc, but I need to know something first. You said Sirius is sensitive about his dad. Is anything on that disc going to wig him out?”

Ekliptika frowned, trying to translate Rod’s habitual Terran colloquialisms. “We will be in public, and his training will hold him. There should be no problem,” she replied slowly. “What do you want to do?”

“Durkal is making a stink about Razor being ‘on the loose,’ as he puts it. But I think I’m beginning to see what happened. We know that no one went into that room between the times Razorsharp left and Rangai Durkal arrived, right?”

“Yes. So?”

“So if Razorsharp didn’t kill him, then Durkal must have,” Rodimus explained.

“His own associate? That’s preposterous.”

“Just because you wouldn’t doesn’t mean someone else didn’t. It’s the most obvious possibility.”

“But how did he get Razorsharp’s katana?” Ekliptika asked.

“Stole it while we were gone, or had someone lift it for him. It could easily have been in those robes of his when he went into that room.” He pecked her on the cheek on the way back to the door.

Ekliptika watched him saunter across the hall and knock at his own door. “Let’s go, kid,” he called.

Sirius appeared immediately, his expression dark. “I am not a child,” he intoned.

“Course not. Now let’s get going before they start without us.”

Ekliptika could see Razorsharp behind Sirius through the open door. “What happens if you’re wrong, Rodimus?”

He turned back to smile at her. “Doesn’t matter. I know you’re right. The rest is just window dressing. I’ll get the Governor to loosen the noose tonight. Have to have all the players in their places.” He stepped closer to her and tilted her chin up. “Be good,” he admonished.

“Be safe,” she requested in return.

Mindful of the guards’ scrutiny, as well as that of Razorsharp and Sirius, he refrained from kissing her again. But she recognized the look on his face and smiled. After a moment, he released her and strode away down the hall, calling for Sirius to follow.

Ekliptika pushed herself away from the wall, forcing herself not to stare after Rodimus. She walked casually past the guards and into the suite.

Razorsharp was staring at her, ruby optics pinned to her frame.

“What, exactly, are you up to?” Razor asked.

Ekliptika fell gracelessly onto the sofa. “I wish I knew.” She was still a moment, staring at the ceiling. “He was going to kiss me when Sirius came in ranting about you being arrested.”

“And what did you do?”

“I kissed him later,” Ekliptika confessed.

“How did he respond?”

“Enthusiastically. What am I going to do?” Ekliptika exclaimed. “I have no clue what I should do now.”

Razorsharp studied her. “Have you told him about Raven?”

Ekliptika shook her head. “No time. But I can’t....”

“...let it go without saying something. I know.” Razor sighed. “I regret that you have to spend so much time on my difficulties here.”

Ekliptika waved a negligent hand. “It’s another of those reminders not to waste any time.” She let the hand drop. “Rodimus thinks it was Durkal who killed Virunai.”

“A bold strategy, if he is right. Why did he say it did not matter?”

Ekliptika smiled. “Because the disc I made proves you are innocent. He is right. Accusing Durkal is window-dressing. Imagine if it works.”

“It should be quite a spectacle.”

The decor of the evening’s gathering was the most elaborate yet, with bright bunting everywhere and a feeling of almost forced gaiety in the crowd. Ekliptika could hear the chattering from where they stood just outside the hall. It was high-pitched, rapid and anxious. One last time she checked over her party, trying to repress a smile as Rodimus fiddled with an epaulet. She reached up from behind to adjust it for him, letting her fingers rest a moment longer than necessary on his shoulder. His hand brushed hers, and for a moment, she imagined she could feel his strength, his confidence, and a goodly dose of nervous energy; a desire to get things moving and start taking action.

She let her hand slip down and turned to check behind her. Razorsharp stood surrounded by Rhodian guards, Sirius to the side, just outside their cordon. His expression was still dark and closed, and Ekliptika felt a chill in her core. He resembled his father greatly at that moment, and had Straxus ever looked at her with that expression, she would have been quick to get out of his way. She knew he was calculating the insult done to his mother, and looking for a time and place to balance the books.

Razorsharp was the eye of the hurricane, serenity in the chaos. She gave the guards no notice, acting as though they did not exist, were not watching her for any attempt to break free. She wore the same gown again to increase the sense of frailty and helplessness, both concepts that Ekliptika could never equate with Razor. Anyone who had fought their way out of the suffering and humiliation Megatron and Starscream had put her through would never be helpless.

Ekliptika let her gaze fall from the Deceptifemme and returned it to Rod’s massive back before her. What kind of relationship could eventually be worked out between them, she did not know, but for the moment, she had other, more important things, to deal with.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she murmured.

“All right. Show time, people.”

When all was said and done, it was a nearly flawless performance. Rodimus had paced in boldly, the other following behind, drawing the attention of the entire crowd. When all sound in the room dropped, Rodimus had let the bomb drop.

“Governor. I have the proof of Lady Razorsharp’s innocence you were asking about.”

Quite simply, the room had gone mad.

Once the din was manageable again, Barzan had played the discs, first showing Lady Razorsharp and Virunai entering the room, and Razorsharp leaving, followed by the arrival of Rangai Durkal. Then Rod had shown the disc of Razorsharp’s memories, freezing at the moment she had left the room, Virunai’s benediction ringing in her ears.

Whispers had hissed around the room, making the statements and asking the questions that Rodimus waited for. Then, his simple statement, that it was obviously someone other than Razorsharp who had committed the crime, and the only other person who had entered the room was Rangai Durkal. Of course, it was not really his concern who was finally convicted. And he had great faith that the people of Omicron Rho would find the answers.

Durkal had been shocked, outraged. How did they dare to accuse him? Where was their proof? Did they not know he was a member of the Royal House? The other delegates had drawn away from him in horror and disgust. Barzan’s guards, released from their positions around Razorsharp, had taken up identical post around Durkal, for his own safe-keeping.

Through it all, Razorsharp had merely stood smiling, watching the maelstrom surge around her. It was indeed fitting entertainment.

Razorsharp was still smiling when they returned to the suite, now free from the prying eyes of guards waiting to prevent her from doing as she wished. She entered the room and settled into her customary chair, curling her feet up under her. She could feel Sirius’ presence slip in behind her, taking up station to guard her, even here, where she should be safe. And she watched with an indulgent eye as Ekliptika let herself fall onto the sofa beside Rodimus, not appearing to care when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and her head fell against his chest.

“That was certainly a fun evening,” he commented. “Here, let’s pull that thing off,” he murmured to Ekliptika. “You’re going to poke me with it sooner or later.”

She unlatched her helmet, allowing him to pull if off. Unadorned, she seemed smaller and more frail. “We’re going to have to talk about your definition of fun,” she complained.

“What, getting the goat of a pompous ass doesn’t make you happy?”

“I saw no goat,” she replied sleepily

He looked down at her, hair tumbling in all directions and amethyst optics almost off-line. “Okay, Sleeping Beauty. Time for you to visit recharge land.” He moved to scoop her up when Razorsharp interrupted.

“I will escort the Lieutenant back to her room,” she offered. “She will only be humiliated if you do it. She will feel as though she has failed to protect you.” She pulled the dozing Autobot more upright. “Lieutenant, wake up! Go’yran druket v’reen!”

Ekliptika’s optics flared to life, and she stood so quickly that Razorsharp was nearly clipped in the jaw. “Apologies,” she said quickly, still steadying herself. “I’ll return to my room.” She accepted her helmet from Rodimus gravely. “Gratitude,” she murmured, and he nodded.

“When will you explain?” Razorsharp asked once they had left the suite. They had the hall to themselves.

“When we are on the way home. I will not distract Rodimus with the end of the conference in sight.” Ekliptika keyed open her door, sighing. “It will not be easy.”

“No, it will not,” Razorsharp agreed. “But it will be best.” She chuckled. “I had forgotten how poorly Old Decepticon directly translates to Basic.”

“Truly.” Ekliptika stepped into her quarters. “Honor and Glory.”

“Forever.”

Sirius glared at Rodimus as the femmes left, and the Autobot had already had his fill of scrutiny for the day. “You have something to say, kid, or are you just makin’ sure I don’t jump off the balcony or something?”

“You should not be so familiar with Lieutenant Ekliptika,” Sirius grated.

“That’s between her and me, I think, kiddo. If she doesn’t mind, why should you?” Rodimus had a feeling there was something important beneath Sirius’ youthful hostility.

“I have told you. I am not a child.”

“Then quit acting like one. She’s an adult, I’m an adult, and you haven’t reached the Age of Consent. Ekliptika gave you a break and let you tag along for her own reasons. Fine. I can respect that. But believe me, Sirius, she thinks of you as a kid. She’s afraid you’ll freak if she so much as mentions your father.”

“His Excellency is not the topic, Rodimus Prime.”

Rod snorted. “‘Excellency?’ Well, I never met him. Maybe he was a cut above your average Decepticon grunt. But Ekliptika is the topic, and if she chooses to have a relationship with me, you have to find a way to deal with it.” He turned away and headed for his room.

“I thought you wanted to know about her,” Sirius challenged.

“She’ll tell me when she’s ready. Good-night, Sirius.”

Seemingly in a rush, the conference was over. Delegates exchanged last bits of information, tentative schedules were worked out, and it was time to leave.

Razorsharp accepted her daisho back from Barzan with a nod.

“I hope you will not hold the events that passed here against us, Lady Razorsharp. We would welcome you back at any time.”

She could afford to be gracious. “You were only doing your job, Governor. I would like to thank you for your assistance.” She shook his hand, then boarded the ship under Sirius’ watchful gaze.

Barzan moved on. “Thank you for attending, Rodimus Prime. You brought up several important points in our discussions.”

“I only wish I could have been of more use,” Rodimus replied.

“Will you and the Lady Razorsharp consider returning for a social visit?”

“We shall have to see. Thank you for hosting us, Governor. We look forward to seeing you on Cybertron in the future.” They shook hands, and the Governor moved off to take leave of a number of other delegates.

Rodimus looked over at Ekliptika. “Ready to go home?”

“Very.” She followed him up the ramp and sealed the doors.

The rumble of the ship’s engines was comforting to Rodimus as he watched the stars streak past the portals. It seemed to Rodimus that he had spent a great deal of his life on starships, either being ferried from one planet to another, running from Decepticons or chasing those same Decepticons across the galaxy. Now with Cybertron peacefully under their control and a plan forming to bring the Decepticons home, it seemed that even more of his time would be spent between the stars, traveling to distant planets and making nice with the natives. And he wanted someone to do it with.

Ekliptika finally appeared at the hatch. She’d been in the cockpit since take-off, attending to whatever security measures came up while on their own ship headed home under a flag of peace. Rod supposed they used transponder signals now rather than actual flags, but the idea was the same; ‘Mess with us and we will hunt you down.’ Peace missions could certainly be fun.

“Have a seat, Lieutenant,” he offered, patting the space beside him. He’d deliberately seated himself as far from Sirius and Razorsharp as possible, hoping that the imitation of privacy would encourage Ekliptika to be more open.

She accepted his offer and went so far to relax as tilting the seat back to recline. “I like these diplomatic liners. I could never take them into enemy territory.”

“They are nice,” he agreed. “I didn’t use them a lot during the Great War. Hellas, a group of us went chasing after the Deceps with a fleet consisting of a Quint ship and a Junker. That was a fun ride, I’ll tell you.”

She tilted her head toward him. “The end of the War? Right before the destruction of Unicron?”

He tilted his seat to match hers. “You know what really bites? Having everyone know all my best stories. How can I possibly impress you if you’ve read all my best stuff in the history archive?”

“New and better stuff?” she offered.

He grinned. “Yeah. Bring on the next giant planet-eating bot. Except this time it will be Optimus getting all the glory.” His grin faded a little. “So you said you wanted to talk.”

She nodded. “I need to tell you about my past. If we get involved, you’re probably going to hear things, and I wanted you to hear it from me first.” She took a deep breath, summoning her courage. “Before the Great War, I was...” She trailed off, not sure how to continue.

“A Decepticon?” he completed for her. “I know. Optimus Prime filled me in before he asked you to take this assignment.”

“You never said anything!”

“Why would I? It was so long ago that I didn’t think it mattered. Who you are now is what matters to me.”

“But I’m the same. The Decepticon I was, the Autobot I am...sometimes I can’t separate the two,” she confessed.

“You don’t need to,” he assured her. “They are both integral to who you are, and that’s some I want to know a lot better.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Does it upset you that I hurt a lot of bots during the Rage Plague?”

“You couldn’t help it,” she protested. “It wasn’t something you could control. I knew what I was doing as a Decepticon.”

“But you said it yourself. It was all you were trained to do”

“Don’t make excuses for me. I told you. I knew what I was doing.”

“I know. And I’m telling you it’s doesn’t affect how I feel. I still want to be with you.”

“You are a fool, Rodimus Prime!” Ekliptika declared. “You are willingly putting your head in a noose.”

“Yeah, but I’m your fool. I trust you not to kick my feet out from under me, or to hold me up if someone else does the kicking.”

“We must both be fools,” Ekliptika concluded with a sigh.

“So we’ll be fools together. Maybe no one will notice.”

Ekliptika’s hand crept toward his. “You’re deluding yourself,” she groused.

He accepted her small gesture of peace, feeling her hand in his. “Yes, dear. Whatever you say.”

Ekliptika would have replied, but the tension of the mission had drained the last of her energy, and she slipped into recharge, Rodimus’ hand wrapped securely around hers.

Epilogue

Rod passed a tightly rolled scroll to Optimus. “That’s our copy of the Accords, ‘suitable for framing,’ as Barzan put it. Ekliptika has the disc copies. Had to go in the Security pouch. And I have my report on the debacle involving Razorsharp.” He passed across a folder.

Optimus set it to the side. “You’re sure she didn’t do it?”

“I watched the disc Ekliptika made. What’s-His-Face was still breathin’ when she walked out the door.”

Optimus studied Rod’s overview of the conference. “You’ve got a lot of names on your dance card,” he commented, reading the list of delegates who had requested visits to or from Cybertron.

“Better polish my dancing shoes, then,” Rod replied, careful not to mention Ekliptika.

Optimus looked up at him. “I’m probably going to assign the Lieutenant to head your detail again.” At Rod’s pleased expression, his eyes tightened. “I meant it before, Roddy. Don’t pester her. She has a job to do, and chasing her around will just make it harder.”

“I won’t be chasing her, Optimus,” Rod assured him.

Prime’s optics narrowed even more. “What does that mean?” he growled.

“I’m not sure I know yet. But if anything comes up, we’ll be sure to invite you.”

Optimus had to laugh. “You are the absolute limit, Roddy. You do know that, right?”

“Yeah, but I don't think she minds,” he replied. “Listen. Optimus, she’s worried that I’ll ask for her to be assigned because of our relationship. She’s really an excellent officer. It’s only because of her that we could exonerate Razorsharp.”

“Well, she was assigned before I was aware of any relationship between you. I’ll be sure she knows that. But I may not be able to do it in the future,” Optimus mused.

“Why not? Do you think she’s any less likely to get between me and danger?”

“It’s you I’m worried about. Are you going to let her do that?”

“She wouldn’t give me a choice, Optimus. Believe me, if I tried it, she’d probably kick my tail across the planet.” Rodimus leaned forward, resting his hand on the desk. “Don’t disgrace her, Optimus. She’ll never understand.”

“We’ll have to address this in the future, you know,” Optimus warned.

“I know. But she’s sensitive right now. She doesn’t want to be given anything she hasn’t earned.”

“All right, Rodimus. All right. We’ll hold off on making any decision until this round of visits is over. But she and I are going to have to talk about it sometime. Dismissed.”

Rod saluted and left quickly, before Optimus could change his mind.

Ekliptika waited in the hall, just out of sight of the door. She smiled as Rodimus appeared. “Does he want to see me?”

“He didn’t say anything to me about it,” he replied. “Want to play hooky?”

“I don’t know that one. Let me drop off the diplomatic pouch first, and you can explain it.”

They walked off down the hall, not quite touching, while Rodimus explained the fine art of ditching work.

Optimus watched them recede in his monitor. Whatever the Lieutenant was about, she would provide a whole new set of challenges for his protégé. He just hoped Rodimus was up to them.

*THE END*

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