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The Ark--Bridge

“You scavengers won’t touch another thing aboard my ship. Have you all forgotten your native tongue? Why do you speak with the common vernacular?”

Elita's optics narrowed curiously as Nova Prime spoke. The fact that he had simply jumped to the conclusion that they were scavengers of one kind or another did not sit well with her and she did nothing to mask the displeasure that was etched on her face. That being true, she held her words for a few moments so that she didn't wind up jumping to the same conclusions as Nova--that they were dealing with some kind of adversarial force. When she did at last spoke, it was with carefully chosen words.

"My lord Nova Prime," Elita began, offering this mechanoid at least the initial respect that his title warranted. She would never call Optimus "lord", but she also recognized that Nova was quite literally from a different era. She could swallow a modicum of pride and let her language reflect how awe-inspiring it was to be here, on this ship and in their presence.

"These Cybertronians and I have come to you not as scavengers. We were sent on a mission by Autobot High Command to rescue another Cybertronian and then to flee the same captivity that she faced. Our escape...well...it brought us here. We thought there to be nothing on this world until we picked up the signature of this vessel...one that we Cybertronians had long thought to be lost to the universe forever, along with all of you. We came here to revive this ship and, hopefully, to bring you home. As to our choice of words, well, you'll forgive the customs of language. It evolves faster than we do. You and your crew have been gone for, well, a long time."

The Ark – Bridge

Thunderclash’s desire to remain quiet and unobtrusive to give the legendary warriors while acclimated to being functional once again was a selfish one, he had to admit, but he didn’t regret it.

This was a moment he would long cherish. Assuming, of course, they found a way off this world.

We will. It’s only a matter of time, and with their help, that time will be short.

Until then, he intended to fully enjoy being in the presence of these great warriors. And, if need be, stress the importance of this moment with his fellow Autobots. Their lack of knowledge was understandable with the war and all, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t correct such things.

Nova Prime wrote:“You scavengers won’t touch another thing aboard my ship.”

That caught Thunderclash offguard and pulled him from his enjoyment of the moment. His optics flashed briefly and he shifted forward slightly at the accusation as part of him regretted his earlier decision. The creaking of his damaged knees and other joints reminded him of his limitations before a stress warning flashed through his processer.

He settled back into his previous stance until the warnings subsided. He had to remind himself that even the most honorable mechs, legendary or not, were capable of overstepping their bounds. It was one thing to show reverence and respect to others’ stations, but to be accused… He didn’t approve of that at all, but such an act didn’t necessarily warrant a physical response.

Nova Prime wrote:“Have you all forgotten your native tongue? Why do you speak with the common vernacular?”

Now that, I can answer respectfully. He was about to respond with a thorough and well thought out counter when Elita-1 responded. Quite well, too, he had to admit, though it would’ve been better in their ancient tongue. Still, the scholar in him took an enormous amount of pride in her response.

Elita-1 wrote: "These Cybertronians and I have come to you not as scavengers. We were sent on a mission by Autobot High Command to rescue another Cybertronian and then to flee the same captivity that she faced. Our escape...well...it brought us here. We thought there to be nothing on this world until we picked up the signature of this vessel...one that we Cybertronians had long thought to be lost to the universe forever, along with all of you. We came here to revive this ship and, hopefully, to bring you home. As to our choice of words, well, you'll forgive the customs of language. It evolves faster than we do. You and your crew have been gone for, well, a long time."

When she finished, he messaged the others.

>>Easy now. Do nothing aggressive unless they attack.<<

He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, though he’d noticed how Galvatron hadn’t kneeled before Nova Prime when he had awoken, and knowing how Cybertornian society was back when they disappeared, it made him nervous.

Hoven- The Ark

It was both creepy and amazing being here in a long forgotten relic. Who would have thought anyone would find anything useful on a frozen backwater planet, let alone the legendary Ark-1. Moonracer had gotten lost in the bowels of the ship as the rest of the team had went in search of the crew and the bridge, engine room, etc. She hoped she would find the others soon. For some reason, her location transponder wasn't working. She'd just gotten up from falling down a flight of stairs and hit her head. Now that she thought about it instead of her panic, she could feel a throb in her head and heard a little sparking sound. She touched her head where it had hit the surface after her fall. Glowing energon leaked slowly from the wound. It wasn't life threatening, but it was enough to cause disorientation and lack of some of her usual cognitive system functions.

’I gotta keep going! My friends depend on me! I can't quit now. I've come so far.’, the green racer said to herself. Then, a light flashed red and there was a beeping sound heard, along with an electronic voice playing on the ship's intercom system.

<<SYS-SYS-SYS-SYSTEM SCAN COMPLE-EEE-EeeEEE-TE. PRESENCE DETECT-DETECT-DETECTED: CYBERTRO-TROOOO-NIIIIIIIIIII-TRONIAN SIGNALS CONFIRMED. ERROR! ERROR! PRIMARY POWER NEUTRALIZED; POWER CORE RELAY UNALI-ALLI-ALLI-ALLI-ALINGED. EMERGENCY-EMERGENCY-EMERGEN-CY-CY-CY RESERVES POWERING UP. TELETRAN-AN-AN-AN-TRAN 1: ONLINE. DISENGAGING EMERGENCY CONTAINMENT SYS-SYS-SYS-SYSTEMS.>>

’Teletran-1.’, Moonracer thought to herself as she continued, stumbling along the corridors towards a lighted room where she heard several voices, some of which were strange. She drew her fire arm and held it ready. She had managed to steal it back from one of the Decepticons that had held them captive, back before they had stolen the shuttle, just to crash it into this ice world. Why that Con liked her rifle, she didn't know, but it was good to have it. In any case, she pressed her back against the wall and quietly moved forward with much caution.

Elsewhere…

>>"Um...we've made contact. Direct contact. Anyone that can speak Old Cybertronian needs to get to me, Chromia and Windblade's position, STAT."<<

It was a message from Elita. Lancer had been on her way to the location of Firestar when this had happened, and she didn't know really, how to respond to it. She didn't have any knowledge of Old Cybertronian. She hoped that Elita, Chromia, and Windblade could figure out what to do to communicate with the crew. Was it really the original crew though? If they spoke Old Cybertronian, there was a chance that they really could be Nova Prime and his crew.

For the time being she was making haste down the halls, following the transponder signals of Firestar and Flash.

>>We’re heading for the power cores.<<, came the reply from Firestar.

>>’Roger that. I'm on my way to your location. I can help with the repairs.’<<, she responded. She may be no help talking to ancient Warlords, but she could at least get an engine going.

The Turbomasters…

The neon blue and pink helicopter did his job of navigating, and it always made him feel good to do so. Upon landing and reverting back to robot mode outside of the legendary vessel, Rotorstorm paused for a few nanokliks to admire the sight of the first Ark. However, he quickly would follow Thunderclash and Patchwork while Scorch brought up the rear and they entered into the darkened corridors. Not too long after, they made their way to Elita-1's team, who had come face to face with antiquity itself.

Rotorstorm's visor lit up brighter at the sight of the ancient mechs, particularly the legendary warrior Galvatron.

“Holy Primus.”, he muttered quietly. He followed Thunderclash's instructions, not moving a muscle. He didn't know what was going to happen next. Would the ancient one become hostile or would he accept the presence of the newer mechs. Shouldn't he be grateful their ragtag team had stumbled upon the Ark-1 and triggered their release from their cryogenic “prisons”? At any rate, Rotorstorm was doing his best to remain calm. However, at the slightest sign of aggression towards their teammates, he'd be ready to wreck some afts, legendary or not.

Back to Lancer…

The purple and orange fembot made her away alone down towards the engine room. She was listening to what was going on, as far as what was being broadcast within the Autobot channels. It seemed that indeed, tgey had truly found Nova Prime's cew. It was astounding and surreal, but she knew it was the truth, and yet, like many of her kin, it also seemed ominous. She hoped everything would be alright up there. So, she commed the others,

>>This is Lancer. I can now see the engine room. I'm heading in and will report to you the damage assessment and see what I can do to fire this baby up. Maybe then our Ancient Warlords will be appreciative of us. You just give me the word what you want me to do and I'll make it work best I can.<<

She had no idea that Nova Prime had awakened or that he specifically told the “scavengers” not to tamper with anything else. She did know though, that staying here on this cold barren planet would lead to all of them going into a very long slumber, maybe forever. She didn't want that to happen. So, she started looking around and assessing the damage. Torn cables, defective couplers, and of course the cores were weakened from all these long vorns stuck here in dismal state. However...some tweaking and fibers from other parts of the ship should do the trick to get her started. Other than that, bolts and screws needed to be tightened. Nothing a toolkit couldn't handle! She began searching the room for a maintenance closet with tools and possible replacement parts.

>>Damage is moderate. It can be fixed. However, we would definitely need to stop by the nearest station for a filler-upper. Not that you didn't know that already.<<, Lancer told the Autobots. She soon located the tools that she needed and some parts. However...wiring would need improvisation. She waited for a reply now before getting started.

Back to the Others…

Rotorstorm waited with a great deal of patience, as Thunderclash had ordered. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally get all of his friends killed. Honestly, he hoped that for once in a long time, they could avoid fighting. After all, they were in the presence of a PRIME for Primus’ sake! Sure he wasn't Optimus Prime. No. This guy was an antique, and so were his compatriots. Though...he wondered why Galvatron hadn't knelt like the other guy did. Did they see each other as equals? Were they best friends? He didn't know. He also really wished he knew what they were saying. He couldn't understand the ancient language. The next thing they knew though, Nova Prime was speaking Common? Wow...how about that? Scavengers? Damn...that was harsh.

Moonracer, having been hidden around the corner from the outer hallway, listened quietly and made her way past the Turbomasters and darted after Elita,Chromia, and Firestar as they followed Galvatron and the other dude into the bridge again.

“Whoops, sorry guys!”, Moonracer said, bumping past Patchwork. Looking back, she couldn't help but giggle at his ruffled countenance. However, back to the pressing matter at hand...she slowed behind Elita's group and watched the scene on the bridge play out. Like she had been captivated by pictures in a book about these guys, she now found herself spellbound as she stared at two….no...now three relics from legend. She wondered what would happen next. Were these guys friends or foes?

‘I sure hope they're friends.’, she thought to herself. A dizzy spell then hit her and she staggered, falling against the nearest wall and trying to steady herself. “Owww…”

As Nova Prime spoke to the group of Cybertronians that had caused their reactivation, intentionally or by a pure accident – Galvatron studied them. Analyzed them. Prepared for them. They had given him no reason to change his first impression of them. All in various state of disrepair, yet carrying themselves with experience of seasoned combatants. Scavengers or soldiers on a run from hostiles.

Already he had devised various ways of dispatching them in quick succession in case such action was to be required of him. If the smaller ones were all as weak as the one he had removed from the ship’s computer interface, he felt confident of being able to take care of them within a klik. Only the similar in size to him and Nova Prime might provide to be a challenge but he was clearly in worse shape than most of the smaller ones. All in all it appeared that when it came to potential battle prowess, the Cybertronians had not evolved much while they had slept.

Ah, yes. Common vernacular, of Iacon no less? He had felt it had sounded familiar in some way but it did not surprise Galvatron that Nova Prime – an experienced orator and politician had been far more quicker grasping the basics of their linguistics. Yes, adjusting his translator, Galvatron could now understand the words of the pink fembot more clearly. Prior to this, there had been irregularity to their speech which had made him wary of making conclusions. A while longer and he would be able to talk to them in their own, twisted dialect. Despite of this, he was fine with Nova doing the talking. For now.

As it was, Galvatron was far more interested in Nova bleeding more information out of them. Autobots? Escape? And most importantly… how much time had passed since their crash landing?

The Ark - Bridge

”These Cybertronians and I have come to you not as scavengers. We were sent on a mission by Autobot High Command to rescue another Cybertronian and then to flee the same captivity that she faced. Our escape...well...it brought us here. We thought there to be nothing on this world until we picked up the signature of this vessel...one that we Cybertronians had long thought to be lost to the universe forever, along with all of you. We came here to revive this ship and, hopefully, to bring you home. As to our choice of words, well, you'll forgive the customs of language. It evolves faster than we do. You and your crew have been gone for, well, a longtime."

Nova Prime fixated on the femme that stood before him with optical covers held at an uncertain squint. She had explained her side of the story briefly but with enough details to clue the ancient Prime into some of the events had transpired before their arrival here, though there were a few words thrown in that left him with even more questions. Words like, “Autobot”... What did she mean by this? Is this the name of her crew? And there was a heavy emphasis on how long they have been away... Was this just some tactic of feeding him lies so he could slip into a false sense of security? These Cybertronians claiming not to be scavengers were indeed a mixed bag of assorted castes judging by their external biology features, this could very well be a group of pirates looking to plunder their vessel in the name of profit.

“A very likely story, though I feel as though I’m left with more questions than answers at this point. So let’s start off with an easy one: Just how long have we been gone for?” Nova inquired, musing Elita’s explanation to see if she was telling the truth or just trying to distract him any longer. There was a sound that drew his attention away from the the pink femme’s gaze, the sound of one her crew falling against the wall further down the corridor. The sound startled the already on-edge Prime, who quickly drew his fusion cannon rifle with surprising quickness despite his condition. The weapon hummed with a rekindled life as he pointed the weapon in the direction of the sound he heard.

“How many more of you are on my ship?! Tell me before I rip you scavengers apart and use your Energon to refuel the Ark! I fought the beast hordes of Onyx with less power than what I possess now, so you better answer quickly!”

The Ark – Bridge

Nova Prime wrote:“A very likely story, though I feel as though I’m left with more questions than answers at this point. So let’s start off with an easy one: Just how long have we been gone for?”

That’s an excellent question, and one we should have expected, Thunderclash thought as he searched his databanks for the answer. He didn’t want to trod on Elita-1’s toes (It was about respect for the order of rank, and since Elita was the first one here, he felt this was her contact), but he couldn’t allow their first meeting with these ancient Cybertronians to deteriorate into something… primitive. There was already enough of such unnecessary reactions in the universe to—

He turned, not as fast or nimble as usual — he looked forward to repaying these injuries in the future — and his optics flashed as he was prepared to reprimand the responsible Cybertronian, when a quiet, “Whoops, sorry guys!” came from Moonracer.

Making a mental note of her name under the list of those possibly in need of further training, Thunderclash was in the process of turning back to face their elders when Nova Prime took aim in Moonracer’s direction.

Nova Prime wrote:“How many more of you are on my ship?! Tell me before I rip you scavengers apart and use your Energon to refuel the Ark! I fought the beast hordes of Onyx with less power than what I possess now, so you better answer quickly!”

Things could not have gone much worse, and Thunderclash had no intention of allowing them to deteriorate further. To his servos’ dismay, he stepped forward with his hands in the air, showing he wasn’t a threat.

“My Lord,” he began, picking up from Elita-1’s lead, “we are few in number — sixteen total. Elita speaks the truth: we happened upon your vessel frozen on this world by accident. We came to find a way to return home, and with your permission, we ask if you will accompany us." He thought about adding more about how his presense would unify their people and so on, but that wasn't him. Leave that kind of deception to the diplomats.

While he kept his optics on Nova Prime, he sent a message to the others, >>Steady, now. No hasty movements.<<

He didn’t like how this was looking to end. Though he had to admit, having his epitaph read, “Terminated by an ancient,” would be pretty rememberable. If he was into such things.

If it’s a fight you want, I promise you’ll remember our names, he thought, hoping for the best.

[The Ark - Bridge]

The tension was scaling the walls of the room like lizards scampering away from magma. The old Prime’s presence was intimidating, and to an extent, downright frightening. He’d read plenty about Nova Prime’s expansionist ideologies. Most accounts were… frankly speaking, not quite favourable. It didn’t help that, now, he had his firearm in hand, with likely enough power to turn all of them into scrap metal. Hurricane desperately paced his memory tracks to save them.

Nova Prime wrote:"Just how long have we been gone for?”

“6.2 metacycles, my lord,” he began, trying his absolute hardest not to quiver in his voice, “That was when the first Ark, this very ship, left Cybertron on its expedition.” After a display of anger by the ancient Prime, Thunderclash stepped in, saving the deal for the moment by informing him about their numbers.

Thunderclash wrote:>>"Steady, now. No hasty movements."<<

>>"At the moment, in the way we’re going about this, we have a survival rate of 67.4% at best and… 0% at worst, depending on which scenario we follow."<<

[The Ark--Bridge]

Every answer that Elita-1 provided to the Prime of old only seemed to exacerbate his paranoia. She didn't know what else to say. That was the problem with the truth. With lies, the possibilities were endless. Fortunately Thunderclash had stepped in and attempted to vouch for her account of things. It seemed, for like a quarter-breem, as if Nova Prime might be satisfied by their explanation when a sudden fall prompted him to reveal a rather nasty-looking cannon. The sort of thing a Prime would carry, to be sure.

The Prime had more questions. Fortunately, they had more answers. Answers that were quickly provided by Thunderclash and Hurricane. Elita could only hope to build upon what they had said.

"Please, Nova Prime. We mean you nor your crew nor your ship any harm. As Thunderclash said, if you would accompany us--or permit us to accompany you, I should say--I believe it would be a great success for all of Cybertron."

Nova Prime had reacted more aggressively than Galvatron had anticipated but such reaction had hardly been out of question. They had all slept for so long. These Cybertronians were unknown to them. And Nova had just been reactivated. Still, Prime’s action almost caused Galvatron to smirk. Almost. Instead he kept observing their ”saviors” with a steely gaze fitting for a warrior king who had led men to countless battles thorough an extraordinary life spanning millions of years.

He let Nova ask the questions. Taking everything in unfazed as the Prime’s questions were answered by the pink femme and the large injured and by the looks of it – recently tortured mech – whom he assumed to be the leaders of this rag-tag band of Cybertronians. Sixteen of them? Sixteen bots like these they could deal with. At least that’s what they had claimed. Galvatron was too much of a liar himself to believe anyone blindly. Yet, he was good enough judge of character to get the feeling that these followers of ”Autobots” as they had admitted, were likely telling the truth. By accident? So, they had crashed too or at the very least they had been forced to land on this frozen rock. It did add up. If he had to guess, they were on a run from someone. Even without the injuries, the wear and tear on them indicated recent combat activity. Perhaps they would be off use getting off this rock.

Perhaps.

“6.2 metacycles, my lord,” he began, trying his absolute hardest not to quiver in his voice, “That was when the first Ark, this very ship, left Cybertron on its expedition.”

6.2 metacycles?! Galvatron turned to look at Nova Prime. While he fought hard to keep his surprise and disbelief from showing, the very fact that he was even exchanging look with Prime was a testament to it in its own. That couldn’t be, could it?

The Ark

Hurricane wrote:>>"At the moment, in the way we’re going about this, we have a survival rate of 67.4% at best and… 0% at worst, depending on which scenario we follow."<<

Thunderclash was caught between wanting to groan and remain stoic so Nova Prime didn’t start blasting away.

There wasn’t any doubt he’d choose the latter, as it was in the best interest of those with him. His own injuries figured into his calculations as well, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was little more than a doorstop at the moment.

Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t have options. They just depended on, as Hurricane had so eloquently put it, what scenario they followed.

Which one was the question, and standing within easy striking distance of Nova Prime wasn’t a good place to struggle with such a choice.

Before things went too far, he wanted to know Hurricane’s assessment, so he sent a message back to Hurricane, >>Thank you for your timely statistical analysis, but would you mind sharing which scenario shows the higher success percentage?<<

Elita-1 wrote: "Please, Nova Prime. We mean you nor your crew nor your ship any harm. As Thunderclash said, if you would accompany us--or permit us to accompany you, I should say--I believe it would be a great success for all of Cybertron."

Thunderclash winced inwardly at her stumbling on her words, but kept his thoughts to himself. She was a gifted leader and more than capable under normal circumstances, but in this case, she was overmatched. They all were, to varying degrees.

As much as he hated to admit it, the time may come where he and the others would have to bend a knee for this ancient. Good thing my knee joint’s been locking up lately, he thought, then decided he hadn’t — none of them had. Had they shown the proper respect initially, some of this could’ve been averted.

Was that the answer? Showing weakness to an enemy was unheard of, but to a former Prime?

After spending millennia refusing to kneel, the fact the idea was pushing its way through his processor like a virus didn’t sit well with him.

Besides, what was done was done. All that was left now was to deal with the situation as it progressed. He had little doubt kneeling now would only serve to weaken their word even more.

The Ark - Bridge

”My Lord,” he began, picking up from Elita-1’s lead, “we are few in number — sixteen total. Elita speaks the truth: we happened upon your vessel frozen on this world by accident. We came to find a way to return home, and with your permission, we ask if you will accompany us."

Nova Prime continued to hold his ancient rifle up towards Thunderclash as the Turbomaster relayed their story once again. There must be some truth to their tale because it was beginning to sound like a broken record at this point. Either that or they were very persistent liars.

”6.2 metacycles, my lord,” he began, trying his absolute best not to quiver in his voice, “That is when the first Ark, this very ship, left Cybertron on its expedition.”

The moment he heard those numbers from the small, white Autobot, Nova felt his rifle grow heavy. Could he- Could they have really been gone for that long? Eons past by while they were stuck on this frozen hellworld? Nova lowered his weapon, the weight of the realization making his arm go weak before ultimately dropping his weapon. He turned his horned-helm towards Galvatron to see if he was believing this tale as well only to see the barbarian just as shocked and in disbelief as he was.

“No... It can’t be true...” the ancient Prime murmured in disbelief. Slowly Nova Prime stumbled over towards the main console Flash had been shooed off of earlier and lurched over the console, his head hung low and his hands bracing him. When he looked up again he really only just began to notice the build up of ice and snow that littered the bridge of his mighty vessel. It was all adding up and it was beginning to feel like the world was coming down on him.

”Please, Nova Prime. We mean you nor your crew nor your ship any harm. As Thunderclash said, if you would accompany us--or permit us to accompany you, I should say--I believe it would be a great success for all of Cybertron."

“Teletran-1, tell me, is this true?...” Nova Prime asked the console, Elita’s words not falling on deaf audio receptors but pushed back in priority.

<<ST-ST-STARDATE VARIFI-I-I-I-I-IED.>>

Nova sighed at the confirmation. Gone for so long, who knows what has changed in his absence. He could only hope his home has thrived while he was away. If not, it was better to find out now before arriving to see the truth of their history before him.

“Cybertron... Yes, Cybertron...” Nova stated getting back to Elita’s request, “And what has become of our world?”

The Ark--Bridge

The revelation of the actual present date and its susequent verification by the Ark's version of Teletran seemed to do more to adjust Nova Prime and Galvatron's view of their current circumstances than anything Elita-1, Thunderclash or the others could have said.

Elita would certainly not second-guess a free energon goodie. She'd take all the help convincing them that she could get. After all, what was the alternative? A battle right here on the bridge of the most historic ship in Cybertron's history and a virtual guarantee that she and the other Autobots find themselves sharing the fate of Nova and his crew--forgotten on this frozen wasteland of a planet until some other wayward vessel happened upon them, with the distinct likelihood that the next encounter would not be as friendly.

“Cybertron... Yes, Cybertron...And what has become of our world?” Nova asked. Elita's expression became noticeably more somber.

"After millions of years of war, energon dwindled away and vanished. Sparks dwindled away and vanished. Our civilization had to strike out into the universe to find new sources of energon. The war carries on, but our home is dead."

The Ark – Bridge

Thunderclash watched with a growing respect as the ancient Prime inquired while standing his ground. He may have been out of his element and time, but he still embodied many of the qualities that all Primes since have strived for.

Still, there was something about him that was… different. Not so much from historical accounts, but from Thunderclash’s own expectation. Had he expected another Optimus? Maybe. After all the millennia he’d served under Optimus, it was difficult to envision another Prime preceding him, even if logic and historical facts said otherwise.

Then, it all changed so much so fast.

While Thunderclash had expected Nova Prime to eventually see reason, he hadn’t figured on Hurricane’s ability to pull up facts to be what dealt the deciding blow.

Well, not really deciding, but the effect the exact amount of time had on the ancient Prime couldn’t be ignored. Had he been another mech, like Skyquake, he would’ve taken advantage of Nova Prime lowering his guard. But that wasn’t Thunderclash. Though, given the circumstances, he did see the wisdom in such an action had Galvatron had his weapon trained on them.

No, it was time to allow the ancient Prime the time he needed. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too long.

Nova Prime wrote:“Cybertron... Yes, Cybertron...” Nova stated getting back to Elita’s request, “And what has become of our world?”

Thunderclash’s processer raced to weigh the best option. How does one go about telling another our planet’s been ravaged by war for millions of years? He had a few ideas, and he found himself just as curious to see the ancient mechs’ reactions as he was to get off this planet.

I’m getting too inquisitive anymore. This is going to be the cause of my deactivation yet.

He sighed inwardly as he prepared to break the news. He only hoped his sacrifice, if needed, would give the others time to escape or stop these legends.

Elita-1 wrote: "After millions of years of war, energon dwindled away and vanished. Sparks dwindled away and vanished. Our civilization had to strike out into the universe to find new sources of energon. The war carries on, but our home is dead."

And there it was: the moment that would determine their fates on this icebound vessel.

Thunderclash asked himself if he would’ve said it any differently, but he knew he wouldn’t have. To lie here would have mean their certain deaths. Now, they had a chance, in his estimation.

Choosing to remain silent, he revisited his previous idea of buying time for the others and ran a self-diagnostic to see what kind of a doorstop he would make if the ancient Prime attacked.

He knew his odds before the diagnostic finished, and opened a channel to his fellow Autobots. >>If he attacks, fall back into the best defensive position you can find.<<

His orders were as self explanatory as he could make them. He could only hope they wouldn’t need to be implemented.

[The Ark - Bridge]

Thunderclash wrote:>>Thank you for your timely statistical analysis, but would you mind sharing which scenario shows the higher success percentage?<<

>>”With what I’ve currently got, the higher survival rate scenario would involve us not dying by the hands of Nova Prime, Galvatron or Eucryphia, but rather due to the cold and lack of Energon. This vessel is insulated enough, but there’s a limit to how far we can go.”<<

Hurricane pondered for a moment as Nova Prime, after a bit of an existential midlife crisis, questioned the two squad leaders about Cybertron’s state. The answer probably didn’t please them too much. Thunderclash followed it up with a situationally appropriate response.

Thunderclash wrote:>>If he attacks, fall back into the best defensive position you can find.<<

>>”I know this may sound a bit… far-fetched to you, but the only way to increase our chances of surviving would be for us to visit the engine deck. If there’s any power left in the fuel cores, and if the thorium extracts haven’t experienced alpha decay, we might just be able to power this ship. Not sure how successful it would be, but trying that is much better than our current situation.”<<

He took a slight step backward, and spoke to Nova Prime, not meeting him in the eyes. “My lord, I believe that it would be in all of our best interests to examine the engine deck. Should there be something of use, it might just be our way off this barren planet.”

The Ark – Bridge

[quote=”Hurricane”]>>”With what I’ve currently got, the higher survival rate scenario would involve us not dying by the hands of Nova Prime, Galvatron or Eucryphia, but rather due to the cold and lack of Energon. This vessel is insulated enough, but there’s a limit to how far we can go.”<<[/quote]

I was right, I didn’t want to know Thunderclash thought, making sure not show any outer signs of dismay. >>I thought as much. Thank you for your precision, Hurricane. I’ll be sure to see you get a commendation for this.<< If we survive, he didn’t add. It was as positive as he could be at the moment. No sense reminding them of the impending doom they already see.

As many times as Thunderclash worked the scenarios through his processor, he saw his fellow Autobots losing this confrontation.

There has to be a way.

Hurricane wrote:>>”I know this may sound a bit… far-fetched to you, but the only way to increase our chances of surviving would be for us to visit the engine deck. If there’s any power left in the fuel cores, and if the thorium extracts haven’t experienced alpha decay, we might just be able to power this ship. Not sure how successful it would be, but trying that is much better than our current situation.”<<

Thunderclash had to admit it was indeed farfetched, but it also gave them the best chance to appease the ancient legends currently standing in front of them. He silently sent his authorization for Hurricane to proceed.

Hurricane wrote: “My lord, I believe that it would be in all of our best interests to examine the engine deck. Should there be something of use, it might just be our way off this barren planet.”

Thunderclash remained silent as his fellow Turbomaster spoke. They had laid themselves bare, so to speak, before Nova Prime and Galvatron, and it was up to them to decide how things would proceed.

I could use a nice, warm oil bath right about now, he thought as an energon surge in one of his injured legs showed on his internal display before his diagnostic program set to repairing it as best it could.

After all of his countless battles, the idea of collapsing in front of these two historic figures due to his injuries was beyond abhorrent, especially with his debt to Skyquake yet to be repaid. One way or another, the time to end this is approaching.

The Ark--Bridge

>>If he attacks, fall back into the best defensive position you can find.<<

And wait for impending death, Elita-1 thought.

She didn't think anything bad about her squad, or Thunderclash's for that matter. They were all capable in battle. They had proved it more than once, most recently on the Decepticons' own flagship. But this was a Prime they were talking about. A warrior Prime at that. And the legends surrounding Galvatron and the other members of the Ark's crew were no less impressive. They had taken down armies. What would a couple of squads do to them?

She didn't want to think about it. She would be ready, but her focus was making the group appear useful to Nova, not a threat.

>>”I know this may sound a bit… far-fetched to you, but the only way to increase our chances of surviving would be for us to visit the engine deck. If there’s any power left in the fuel cores, and if the thorium extracts haven’t experienced alpha decay, we might just be able to power this ship. Not sure how successful it would be, but trying that is much better than our current situation.”<<

>>"I appreciate the odds-calculating, but if this goes south, we're dead. It doesn't matter where on the ship we happen to be."<<

What mattered, for now, was whether Nova and Galvatron found her assessment of Cybertron's current situation adequate and what more information she could provide to cement their usefulness. Between their whole group--a not fighting group--she was confidant they could get off of this icy grave before the Nemesis picked up their trail and decimated them like turbofoxes stuck in their own den.

The Ark - Bridge

”After millions of years of war, energon dwindled away and vanished. Sparks dwindled away and vanished. Our civilization had to strike out into the universe to find new sources of energon. The war carries on, but our home is dead."

So this is the fate of his planet. When he had left Cybertron had been unified, reveling in a golden age that took eons to make. And now, after he had placed his hope in his people to carry out his legacy’s longevity they had squandered their potential and threw the planet into a war for resources. If he had known this would’ve become Cybertron’s fate, he could’ve devised a secondary vanguard to seek out other worlds to accumulate more resources.

“I... I see.” Nova Prime finally replied, his words heavy and ladened with grief. He looked up to Teletran-1’s dimly lit screen as if to find some sort of answer before him. How could this have happened? He had unified the 13 tribes eons ago, who could’ve thrown away all the hard work, all the energon that had been spilt to join the warring factions. The Expanse was necessary, and Nova knew he was the only one who could lead it. That was it, wasn’t it? The answer he was looking for... Only he, Nova Prime was capable of holding control over Cybertron. Anyone else who would’ve taken the mantle was unfit to lead Cybertron through the hardships. It all made sense now...

”My lord, I believe that it would be in all of our best interests to examine the engine deck. Should there be something of use, it might just be our way off this barren planet.”

Nova Prime turned his horned visage to face the Autobot who was addressing him, a renewed light flashing over his amber optics.

“Hm... A complete power outage of this level could only mean one thing.” The ancient Prime responded to the Turbomaster. “Teletran-1, assess.”

<<P-P-P-POWER LEVELS CRIT-CR-CR-CRITACAAAL. CENTRAL POW-OW-OW-OW-WER CORE DISSSSSCONNECTED. WARP-WARP-WARP-WARP ENGINES MISALIGNED.>>

“So my theory was correct.” Nova Prime stated. He turned away from Teletran-1’s console to face all those on the bridge. “If we are to make it off this world, I will need you best mechanics and shipwrights to come with me. We need to reconnect the Heart of Cybertron.”

Absurd. It was the key word in Galvatron’s mind describing all this madness these banged up intruders had woken them up into. Their mighty empire was gone. The beautiful gem of the universe - Cybertron was in its death throes if not dead, devoured by yet another civil war without brilliant enough leaders to put a swift end to it. And yet it was most likely true. The Cybertronians they had encountered seemed genuinely shaken by their own discovery. And had that not been proof enough, Teletraan-1’s answer to Nova Prime’s question had done away the doubts still lingering in Galvatron’s processing center, instead turning his determination towards the one key tenet of his existence – survival.

“Hm... A complete power outage of this level could only mean one thing.” The ancient Prime responded to the Turbomaster. “Teletran-1, assess.”

<<P-P-P-POWER LEVELS CRIT-CR-CR-CRITACAAAL. CENTRAL POW-OW-OW-OW-WER CORE DISSSSSCONNECTED. WARP-WARP-WARP-WARP ENGINES MISALIGNED.>>

“So my theory was correct.” Nova Prime stated. He turned away from Teletran-1’s console to face all those on the bridge. “If we are to make it off this world, I will need you best mechanics and shipwrights to come with me. We need to reconnect the Heart of Cybertron.”

Galvatron had came to the very same conclusion as Nova Prime. Really, it was the only possible explanation. The Heart of Cybertron was incredibly potent source of energy, an analogous to a miniature sun. Mere 6.2 metacycles couldn’t have burned through its reserves as a power source for a space ship imprisoned in ice.

”You would trust the Heart of Cybertron to their hands?” Galvatron questioned the Prime, his steely gaze undaunted by whose decision he was challenging.

Part of him wanted to swat Nova Prime for so easily giving away their most important asset. At the same time he understood what was done was done. Without exploiting their so called saviors, he wasn’t going to get back to cybertronians’ sphere of influence in untold vorns. Though the thought of keeping the Heart of Cybertron to power himself for all eternity was tempting. So tempting.

The Ark – Bridge

Thunderclash remained quiet while readying himself mentally for any potential situation. His experience and nearly countless volumes of knowledge stored in his processor that he felt prepared for anything that could be thrown at them. Or so he thought.

Nova Prime wrote:“So my theory was correct.” Nova Prime stated. He turned away from Teletran-1’s console to face all those on the bridge. “If we are to make it off this world, I will need you best mechanics and shipwrights to come with me. We need to reconnect the Heart of Cybertron.”

The Heart of Cybertron? Here? While it was a surprise, it was one that he should’ve seen coming. Given this was the Ark with Nova Prime, it made sense that it was here. It also meant they had a way off this frozen wasteland and back to civilization.

Unless we’re betrayed enroute, he thought as Galvatron said something to Nova Prime. Thunderclash narrowed his optics. He didn’t like the subservient’s tone when adressing his Prime, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. It was between them.

Though he would make sure his people were immediately refueled once the ship was underway. Not wanting to let this opportunity pass, he said to Nova Prime, “May I suggest we begin the necessary repairs, my lord? Our offer of any aid you require is always open.”

The Ark--Bridge

The tension was thick. Elita-1 felt as if she could reach out and touch it. They were walking such a very fine line. How easily this whole situation--through no fault of their own--could descend into chaos and death.

And yet...

“I... I see,” Nova Prime finally spoke. They were words that were underpinned with...what? Understanding? Grief? Certainly not rage. Their considerable efforts to explain the situation and defuse it before it exploded appeared to have been successful.

“So my theory was correct. If we are to make it off this world, I will need you best mechanics and shipwrights to come with me. We need to reconnect the Heart of Cybertron.”

And there was her confirmation. They were not on the verge of being attacked. They were on the verge of working together to get off this ice-laden tomb. That suited Elita just fine.

“May I suggest we begin the necessary repairs, my lord? Our offer of any aid you require is always open,” Thunderclash suggested, echoing what would have essentially been Elita's own sentiments. She opened a comm with the other Autobots.

>>"They're going to accept our offer of aid. This will be our best shot at getting off this world...and make a little history while we do it. Nova Prime has requested the assistance of our best mechanics and shipwrights. Nautica, Patchwork, this is your time to shine. Let's not disappoint them."<<

[The Ark - Bridge]

Nova Prime wrote:“If we are to make it off this world, I will need you best mechanics and shipwrights to come with me. We need to reconnect the Heart of Cybertron.”

It didn’t take long for Thunderclash and Elita to start getting into action with this. He trusted their decisions, but Galvatron’s little side conversation with Nova Prime almost made Hurricane raise a eyebrow in doubt. Still, it was crucial that they began with the process. And although Elita had prompted Nautica and Patchwork to get on with it, Hurricane had studied the Heart of Cybertron. A product of sheer scientific genius, it was perhaps one of the most competent energy reactors available. For that to be on this ship meant that they truly did have a reasonable chance of getting this vessel airborne. The white Turbomaster’s optics turned to his fellow Autobots first, then Thunderclash, and then back to Nova Prime.

“My lord, I am at your service. It would be beneficial to not standby any further.”

Hurricane’s feet felt the cold floor, as he began to head out of the bridge and down through the corridors towards the engineering deck. He mentally calculated the various ways in which to repair a fuel core, especially one as potent as the Heart of Cybertron. There would be a lot of work if it had been inactive for this many vorns, but it’s not like they had much of a choice.

Ark - Bridge

”You would trust the Heart of Cybertron in their hands?”

Galvatron’s inquiry did not fall of deaf audio receptors as the old cybertronian dialect echoed softly against the icy steel walls. Nova Prime understood his concerns with such a relic, its power was nigh-infinitesimal, and a warrior such as himself has to be able to be alert for any sort of ambush that may await them.

”There’s no sense in keeping our salvation off this world hidden. It’s true power is still a tightly guarded secret, so to them it is but another high powered reactor. If in the end they are here to rob us of our trinkets, then I am more than sure your gentle hand can show them the error of their ways. And given their current condition, I doubt you’ll have any trouble with them.”

”May I suggest we begin the necessary repairs, my lord? Our offer of any aid you require is always open.”

“My lord, I am at your service. It would be beneficial to not standby any further.”

“Then let us make way.” The ancient Prime spoke again in the common dialect, turning on his heel towards the corridor, “Standing around here gets us no where.”

Ark - ???

>>"They're going to accept our offer of aid. This will be our best shot at getting off this world...and make a little history while we do it. Nova Prime has requested the assistance of our best mechanics and shipwrights. Nautica, Patchwork, this is your time to shine. Let's not disappoint them."<<

“Well that’s easier said than done.” Nautica complained aloud as she tried to trek through the pitch black corridors of the ancient starship. Even using her holographic visor for light, navigating through the Ark was looking to be harder than expected given how all directions were labeled in ancient Cybertronian glyphs. She was beginning to think she should’ve followed Thunderclash trail those two unfamiliar mechs rather than try and locate the others who were supposedly heading to the engineering deck.

>>”Understood Elita, I’ll see what I can do.”<< the engineer commed back to acknowledge her orders.

“Sounds like they found the ancient Prime then and managed some diplomacy.” She said aloud once again speaking to herself. “*Phew...* Thank the stars, I don’t know if I could've handled another shoot out.” Turning her visor towards the ceiling, the engineer took note of exposed piping above.

“Follow the pipes, that’ll lead to the engines. Yeah, yeah that’s some sound logic.”

The Ark--Bridge

“Then let us make way,” Nova Prime said, before making his departure. Elita-1 nodded to the others and followed after him.

This was not her comfort zone. She led. She didn't have much need for following in her line of work. But under the circumstances, following would be what gave them their best chance of reuniting with the rest of the Autobots. Their best chance of survival. She would not waste it out of pride or some other foolishness.

When Nautica sent back an acknowledgement, Elita quickly returned with one of her own, just to keep the quantum engineer in the loop, wherever she was.

>>"We're on the move."<<

”There’s no sense in keeping our salvation off this world hidden. It’s true power is still a tightly guarded secret, so to them it is but another high powered reactor. If in the end they are here to rob us of our trinkets, then I am more than sure your gentle hand can show them the error of their ways. And given their current condition, I doubt you’ll have any trouble with them.”

Galvatron’s steely gaze remained unchanged as Nova Prime spoke. The ancient warrior had learned to control his demeanor untold ages ago and he was going to keep both Nova Prime and these potential enemies that the Autobots were guessing about his true intentions.

”So be it,” was his curt reply to Prime. It was all he was going to share for now. He would let Nova Prime lead for now. Primus take pity on those who would be foolish enough to step on his way.

The Ark – Bridge

Nova Prime wrote: “Then let us make way. Standing around here gets us no where.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Thunderclash said, nodding to the others as he shifted his weight so he could move out of the ancient’s way. He kept his optics on Galvatron. Though their exploits were legendary and deserving or respect, the interactions between these two left a lot to be desired. It wasn’t hard to spot a subordinate that chaffed under the authority of their superior, but did the superior know?

Probably not, I’d wager. Nova Prime seems more intent on leaving this planet like us, but how long will our endeavors coexist?

Thunderclash didn’t like second guessing another like this, but with the safety of his fellow Autobots hanging in the balance, he didn’t see another option.

As they exited the room, he noticed Elita-1 taking the lead and he thought about messaging her, but decided against it. Depending on the protocol, having a lower level soldier lead the way in case of possible snares or traps was used. And since Nova Prime didn’t seem to mind, at least not yet, he wasn’t going to point it out. Besides, he felt it best to allow others to do what they did best, and Elita was in far better condition for this than he was.

As if to emphasize his point, his knee joint locked up, then moved with a loud clang as the parts slipped by one another. Thunderckash groaned inwardly. Fine condition I’m in. This is a younger, functional mech’s mission at the moment.

As soon as the thought crossed his processor, he opened a channel to the others, then closed it without a word. There was nothing he could say that he hadn’t minutes before. Now was the time to rely on his people following their training to get them out of this.