5For those of you who read "Dance of Sparks," I decided that I did not like how it worked out and chose to delete it and write this set of stories for a prequel before rewriting Dance. At some point, this might get mature, but at this time it sits more at teen level. If it becomes mature in the future, I will post those sections elsewhere and refer the reader there.
Hoist looked over at the huddle of mechs as he waited to be unloaded. The two large Constructicons frowned over datapads, as Grapple looked across the ruined street with a worried note in his field. Much of Kaon suffered unstable areas, and reports said one sat this street of buildings Lord Protector Megatron wanted to restore. Hoist, who knew the architect well, thought Grapple was pinging the other two. Not far away, a work team of mixed Autobots and grunt Decepticons worked to clear rubble from a destroyed building. Hoist craned to see what had his close friend so worried.
"Move up, mech!" one of the supervisors yelled. "We need those supplies!"
Hoist moved up, to the mumbled cursing of the supervisor. The Decepticon drew back a pede and Hoist braced for the kick, but the rebuke felt mild, no worse than a hard slap of the back, as the grunts started to unload the supplies. Hoist considered briefly that the supervisor held back due to Hoist being the field medic; the news that the Autobot medic replaced Hook as the one dealing with minor and emergency repairs for half of each day met with sparkfelt relief with the Decepticons as much as the Autobots. At the same time, all the Decepticons acted with more restraint. He looked over and saw Grapple grab Hook's arm. Hook looked down and shook the hand off but did not knock the Autobot to the ground. Grapple pointed at the wall, gesturing, and Hoist looked where he pointed.
One of the walls started to lean. Hoist saw some of the crew backing away. Part of the top crumbled, revealing internal rust. The work crew ran in the only direction they could, toward the supply dump. The wall fell behind them, catching the supervisor and two of the crew. Then the ground underneath them fell in. The sinkhole swallowed Hook and Scrapper. Grapple managed to hold on to the edge.
As one, Hoist, Hauler and Erector dumped their loads and headed for him, Hoist still in alt mode. He threw out his hook and the others guided it to Grapple, hauling him out shaken but not badly hurt. "Scrapper's awake but leaking," the Autobot panted. "Hook got a bad blow to the processor. I could hear some of the Autobots yelling for help." Hoist let his hook down again and with Erector managed to get the Constructicons to a stable ledge just as Long Haul screeched up with Skywarp. "We've got you set up," he said briefly. "Get over there." Hauler grabbed the hooks they brought and shot his hands down to Scrapper. Hoist transformed and got Grapple to the unit, but the architect only endured a few scratches and dents. When Hauler showed up with Hook, followed by Long Haul with Scrapper, Grapple stayed and followed Hoist's orders.
The deeper in the hole the victims were, the worse the injuries. One mech deactivated under Hoist's servos just as Long Haul showed up in alt form. "Last one living is in back," the Constructicon said briefly. Hoist climbed in and started work in the back of Long Haul's alt form as the Constructicon raced to the infirmary. Once there, the Autobot medic scrubbed up and started working. Glit came in, saw him, and sent a databurst with directions to the medical supplies before he started work on the next victim.
Soundwave appeared shortly after they stabilized the last patient with Hook in tow. While the Decepticon Communications officer took his cassette to first med-bay washrack, he sent Hoist to the one normally used for patients. He told the exhausted Hoist, "Wash, get cube, find berth. Remain in medbay until escorted elsewhere. Hook able to stand watch. " Hoist bowed his head in acceptance and gratitude.
He leaned against the wall in the warm spray from the washrack, watching dully as the dirt and energon from his patients made muddy swirling colors in the solvent before it drained away. He needed to scrub at what remained. He felt drained, so tired that lifting his arm took concentration and effort. Distantly, he knew he needed energon, but that felt like too much effort, too. After working all day hauling material to the various construction projects and then working frantically to repair the mechs hurt in the accident, his tank sat empty and every servo he owned ached.
There was enough energon to go around; they always got enough fuel to get their work done and get from orn to orn, but the Autobots got the last and lowest grade. Life for them on Cybertron tended that way- enough, but only enough to keep them alive, in decent health, and working.
He heard footsteps approaching and turned to see Long Haul approaching. He held a cube in his servo. Hoist accepted the offer. He felt a little better as his tank filled. Long Haul cleaned up as the medic drank. Then the Constructicon picked up a polishing cloth and started on Hoist, getting off the more stubborn dirt and the dried energon. Hoist relaxed into the comfort. "I don' know whether to thank you for helping my brothers," Long Haul said as he worked, "or knock you into the next vorn for endangering one of the few medic's we've got."
Now that the fuel seeped into his systems, Hoist felt his charge start to rise. "Show me I'm alive," he said, his vocalizer spitting a little static. "I had two mechs die on me. More deaths after we hoped the war was over. Please. Show me I'm alive." Now that the crisis was over, the aftermath began to hit. He needed an overload, or his recharge cycle would play those deaths on him over and over. He used to go to his friends after patching up the casualties, but only Primus knew where they were and Long Haul was right here.
The Constructicon spooled out a plug and brushed against Hoist's port. He popped it open. Soon after both of them shuddered in release. Long Haul turned off the solvent and started the dryer. He had to hold Hoist up, and when the dryer stopped, he picked the medic up and carried him to an empty medbay berth. Hoist fell gratefully into recharge.
He powered on sometime later, alert but wondering what brought him out of recharge. An alarm beeped somewhere. He dragged his chassis out of the exam table and headed for it. Coming around the corner, he winced and hurried as Huffer flailed at the Constructicon, who was trying to keep him on the berth. "Huffer!" he called. "Settle down!" Hook backed off. Like Hook, Huffer took a bad blow to the processor in addition to several bad tears in his lower legs. "You're going to open those welds and I'll only have to do them again."
"I saw Hook. He's going to kill us both!" Huffer's optics looked wild.
"Then he and the other Constructicons would have to do all the work," Hoist said as he pushed Huffer back to the berth and began to examine the welds. "War's over, remember?" The welds still held, though one looked weak. Huffer's optics cleared a little.
"I won't kill you but I'll strap you to that berth if I have to reweld those tears," Hook huffed. Hoist heard the clicks as Huffer's weapons tried to appear. None of the Autobots possessed any weapons transformations now. "And I work as hard as you do. Settle down." Huffer lay back, wary but calm. Already worn by his injuries, the effort he expended trying to fight Hook off sent him into recharge shortly. "Go back to berth," Hook ordered. "I just needed a reboot, remember? I can handle a shift." Then, grudgingly, "I'll call you if I need you." He went to sit by a berth. Hoist noticed Grappler lay on the berth, deep in recharge. Hoist trudged back, but recharge came slowly as his processor ran over the question all of the Autobots asked each other after hours.
What happened to the Decepticons?
The final defeat started when Optimus Prime disappeared on Cybertron. It ended when Skyfire blew to pieces just outside of Earth's atmosphere with most of the Autobot leadership aboard. The Decepticons swooped down, gathered the remaining Autobots they could find and brought them to Cybertron. To the shock of the Autobots,life hummed in the ruins now. He and the other Autobots worked on rebuilding Kaon, along with the lower level Decepticon grunts. Rumor said that some Decepticons worked on Iacon, but no Autobots worked there.
At first all the Autobots worked the harsher, dirtier jobs, but lack of trained personnel meant that the Constructicons grabbed any with usable skills, regardless of faction. Scrapper pulled Grapple and Hook pulled Hoist from the work crews as soon as they recognized the Autobots. So Hoist worked with other Autobots with construction skills, while his close friend Grapple worked with Hook and Scrapper on the building plans. Nor were they the only ones; as long as an Autobot possessed a needed skill, Decepticon supervisors grabbed them from the work crews, which resulted in Hoist working to haul supplies in the beginning of his shift, and in the second half patching up anyone who needed it. He sent the worst cases to the med-bay in the central buildings in the afternoon. Long Haul and Hook cooperated in making sure he was available for emergencies.
On occasion, a Decepticon showed up at the end of shift or at the barracks with the offer of a cube and a change of scene. Since the Autobots still got their normal energon ration, it enabled the chosen and willing Autobots to build some reserves and share with others. The Decepticons tended to single out preferred partners, meaning that Hoist spent some free time with his part-time supervisor. They turned out to be surprisingly pleasant joors. Long Haul liked interfacing in the washracks, and the Autobots got few chances to clean up. A mech did not have to be clean to work, which made the medic curse at times.
Hoist and his friends spent some time speculating over what happened to the Decepticons. During their capture and transport to Cybertron, there was no rape, no torture, and few beating. In all the vorns- five now- they spent on Cybertron, there was one attempted rape. Scrapper took the grunt into custody and they never saw him again. Cliffjumper and the rest of the Autobots spent the next few days in shock. For the first time, they found some hope their lives might improve, but the question still ran through their minds. What happened to the Decepticons?
It rivaled the two other burning questions- what happened to the second Ark, and what happened to Optimus Prime?
The second time he cycled out of recharge, he heard voices. He rolled out of the berth and checked his chronometer. Habit pulled him out of recharge, as first shift was beginning. He headed for the medbay to check on his patients, wondering what they intended to do about the worksite now.
He stopped at the entrance and stared in shock, just barely managing not to glitch. The mech he saw looked like Opitimus Prime, and felt similar. But this mech stood and bulked somewhat smaller, about the size of a Seeker. He radiated calm like Optimus, but not the same kind of calm. He stopped and spoke quietly to each of the patients, listening to them for several moments and laying a servo on them briefly. The Autobots patients looked at him in shock but when he stepped away their fields felt peaceful. The Decepticons accepted his presence with an awed and grateful sense to their fields.
The mech walked up to Hoist and looked at him closely. "Hoist," he said slowly. "Are you here as medic or patient?" He placed a servo on Hoist, and in that moment, Hoist felt a power that had nothing to do with strength of arms and everything to do with a Prime.
"Optimus," he said, his vocalizer whining, "We thought –but what-"
Optimus looked down at him gravely but Hoist felt a small touch of amusement. "Let me see what happened to you, and I will explain," he said kindly. Hoist intended to offer his port, but felt the Prime nudge his comm instead. The medic opened up completely. Memories tumbled through his mind. Remembering the explosion, and his grief; remembering his fear and then bewilderment as the Decepticons rounded them up but treated them decently. Remembered Cliffjumper's experience. Remembered in detail the events of the orn before. Optimus coaxed him back and reviewed Autobot treatment. Then he accepted an information dump and stood dazed as the servo left his shoulder.
Before he could access the memory, he heard a keen and woke to the present. He hurried to the patient, a Decepticon with a badly broken strut. He tended that one and turned to find the Prime and another, larger mech facing him. His spark pulsed faster as the leader of the Decepticons said, "Lord Prime, why does the Chosen of Primus waste his time here?"
Lord Protector Megatron looked down at the Prime. He stood about a head taller than Optimus now, with all the weapons and strength he ever had. Actually, he looked better- polished, confident, and in charge. Still, Hoist did not hear the note of sarcasm he expected in the Decepticon leader, and was that a note of-unease?
"Lord Protector," the Prime said coolly, and Hoist marveled. Not only did Optimus show no fear at all, he stood and faced up to the Lord Protector as though he ruled Cybertron, and not Megatron. "I heard of the incident and came to offer my support. " His voice chilled as he added, "I should not need to visit the medbay for such information. Should I not have noticed the need for extra medical supplies, I might have missed the incident altogether." He crossed his arms. "Which leads me to wonder what other information my Lord Protector chooses not to bother me with."
"This was an accident," Lord Megatron informed Optimus stiffly.
"I agree," Optimus said. "But I also discovered that you are not treating the workers equally. Those with equal skills to rebuild as your Constructicons remain in inferior positions. Not only that, but my former followers must cooperate with Decepticons to gain the better fuel. We agreed before Primus to ensure that all Cybertronians are treated well. We agreed we would see that the abuses you and I endured would not repeat."
"I have ensured it! The Autobots have shelter, fuel, medical care when they need it, reasonable shifts. That's more than I had!"
"The lowest grade of fuel, crowded barracks, no access to washracks unless given by a Decepticon wanting an interface, medical care when a supervisor believes they can spare them or they cannot work, the hardest and dirtiest of jobs," Optimus countered. "This despite many with skills which should ensure them a position enjoyed by your Decepticon supervisors, not your grunts. And even among your former followers, it is not ability but favoritism at work." His voice hardened. "You keep your word as well as a Senator bought by a noble, Lord Protector. How is this not building the same society that failed us both, with you as the tyrant?"
Megatron stood silent. Eventually he said, "We will discuss this later. I need you back in the office. You know how inadequate I am at these administrative tasks you do so well."
"I will complete my tour and we will discuss this when I have the information I require." Optimus' voice swelled and echoed without rising in volume and pitch. "I will hold you to your oath, Lord Protector. I gave up my right to arms so that Primus could extinguish Unicron's foul mark on your spark and processor for that oath, and I intend to see it honored!"
That voice echoed through Hoist. Lord Protector Megatron bowed his head and vented. "I will honor my oath," he said, and added, "How can I not? We knew nothing of how the Fallen played us, until you freed us."
Optimus vented and seemed to diminish just a little. "There are so few of us left." His shoulder struts dropped and his optics saddened. I made my choice, brother of my spark. I do not wish to regret it."
"You will not, brother," Lord Megatron said, and together they walked away. Hoist gazed after them, shocked. Then another patient whimpered, and he came out of his bemusement to get back to work.
