Sweetheart Storyteller

Starsrike’s pov:

This lift in this silo is rather slow. I must admit it, however, I currently do not mind it. 

My tanks are not in critical numbers anymore. I exited the lift. As always, I paid my respects to the fallen horned warrior. A simple nod just could not do the true justice to honor their sacrifice in this tomfoolery that had caused to desecrate the loved ones on Cybertron. A strong 90 degree bow or a simple short kneel was far better for reminiscing someone’s passing by their memorial. They were perhaps even a high ranking officer, judging by its height. My loved ones on Cybertron to the degree that I dared not to even cause a risk endangering my other dearest loved ones on Eukaris!

I let out my claws from my digits and struck the air around myself.  

Oh! What was the point in any matter? In actuality, Cybertron be damned! Perhaps this was Primus’ judgement upon their sins. Judgement upon the fact that they spat and looked down upon the one’s who did not transform into any vehicle. The pure disrespect upon the lineage of Onyx Prime! Of course I am excluding the ones sire dearest helped and taught. Well, I have always found myself getting along better with the low caste members… Oh well, most of them were good acquaintainces from when my mighty carrier protected in Praxus’ slums but also the low caste seemed much more open-minded anyway. Middle-Castians mostly tolerated me and were polite but most of them were intimidated by I and carrier’s might and valor. Most sparklings in my age from the middle caste were afraid of my taloned pedes. 

Oh the high caste and upper middle caste were the pit! Few could tolerate me and fewer could accept me and those were Elder Trion, also known as great-great-greatgranduncle Alpha Trion and that one friend of sire’s.

I then continued my way back to the Aurora Mist to finish my meal. Since the Autobots’ cube was half smaller in volume to my own cubes, I shall enjoy myself a little by drinking three of my cubes instead of two from my usual need of consumption. I reached the edge of the silo’s cliff and spread out my grandancestor Onyx-blessed wings. My lower ‘energon air cutters’ from sire were not needed in this next move I was going to proceed doing.

Hahaha! Orion would’ve dropped his spark if he saw me doing this. The last time I had done this exact thing from one of the tallest shelves in the Archives, he was close to fainting from worry as if I would ‘hurt myself’ if something caused me to be unable to flap my wings. He did have a rather big record of forgetting how mighty and strong my initial plating was. If I had survived my carrier’s dynamic ways of physical discipline, then a mere fall from tall heights were nothing. Elder Trion only got amused and tried to assure Orion of my wellbeing. Despite all that, he just had to make sure I was not injured in any way possible by the fall by lifting my frame and wings. Haahh…Oh how dearly I miss you my most darling Little Archivist. A faint smile edged my lipplates. This planet’s sunsets were indeed a work of colorfull art.

By now you would had been quite literally small to me for now I have grown during our 300 vorn seperation. Hah! Take that Orion! Now you would had been actually small and not only in spark. Well, compared to my sire and carrier you have always been rather tiny. Sire was as tall or a bit taller than the current Prime and carrier was a little over three helms taller than sire.

I then dropped myself from the cliff. I closed my optics and took my time enjoying the air hitting my frame before using my wings to soften the landing. Ah! To be able to fly freely. Unfortunately I currently cannot enjoy the freedom among the heavens of this planet. Hopefully the Chengdu J-20 is soon available to me to scan as my third alternate mode among my Eukarian and Praxian fighter jet. 

Once I reached the land, I hurried to my ship and drowned the three cubes so that I could prepare a small sacrificial offering of gratitude to the ever so Kind Bearer of the Matrix Optimus Prime! 

Since the Prime seemed to prefer simple designs, I shall choose a modest but polite crate to hold the energon cubes. I went to the medical cabinet to get two of carrier’s most fine eukarian high grade. Then I went to this ship’s massive storage units to fetch two Eukarian and three premium Praxian cubes of rich energon. The same kind I have just not long ago drowned. This should suffice as a small offering of gratitude.

Just like in Eukaris, it was custom to optionally prepare a gift of gratitude to Onyx for a succeeded errand. A small thanks of Onyx giving that warrior some type of wisdom that made them succeed in their errand. I then prepared the crate with the assorted energon. Actually the crate was more visually a cube shaped modest yet polite basket than an actual heavy duty crate.

Hahaha. It is rather strange, I must admit that both the Prime and Orion preferred simple modest but clean designs. Perhaps the Prime has a humble background?

Hmm…It seems like am unable to put my digit on the matter. I could also error in my judgement upon the Prime’s tastes in design since we are at war. Yet for some reason my instincts tell me that choosing such a simple design proved to be the most optimal. 

End of Starstrike’s pov.

Starstrike got out of the ship with bubbling giddyness. She was ever so slightly overtanked and stoked of the prospect of showing her gratitude towards the Prime.

He had simply done so much for her. Fortunately for her but unfortunately for him. 

Her frame was not of the lightest ends either. Especially when she was under that stasis-lock. If the Prime unfortunately disliked being knelt at, then hopefully this offering of gratitude could be a worthy show of gratitude. Who would refuse fuel such quality as this in these dire times? Starstrike was not sure what to do if she was yet again refused. They would had to be utter fools if fuel was rejected. Before entering the silo again, she calmed herself down and took her usual elegant and polite smile but this time it was relaxed and not rigid. 

She then took flight and landed on the silo’s roof. Before entering the lift, she did a quick 90 degree bow to Cliffjumper’s memorial. She then went inside the lift so she could enter the silo. When the lift landed, Starstrike calibrated her sensors to not get too irritated with the silo’s mechanics before she stepped out of the lift. She then silently stepped into the main hall, this time making sure she did not step into the eight holes. 

Miko was the first to notice her and ran close to her as much as the railing allowed her to. Jack and Raf then followed along. Miko was ready for another round of hugs.

“Strikie! You’re back,” Miko called. 

An elegant short laugh came from Starstrike when she turned her helm towards the children.

“Yes indeed, we meet again, Miko,” Starstrike’s whole frame’s glow became ever so slightly brighter.

“You took your time though,” Jack lightly commented.

Starstrike’s optics widened for a short moment. “Was I away for too long?”

Jack seemed to realize that Starstrike misinterpreted him. 

“No no, it’s completely fine—Ouch! Miko, what was that for?”

Miko had just now hit Jack to his ribs with her elbow.

“Can’t you see that you just worried her about ‘her being rude’?”

“Well, I was trying to correct myself and everything would've been fine if you had just let me finish. Thanks very much,” 

“Oh, all is well Miko and Jack for I have understood your correction,” Starstrike interrupted.

The children looked around Starstrike and saw the basket she was holding. They understood that the cubes were energon but wow! They were bigger than the ones the Team had. 

Miko couldn’t contain herself. The cubes Starstrike’s carried had a premium feel to them. The standard cubes were lined with gold and copper from the tips. Then the two smaller cubes were lined with white gold detailing all over. 

“Woah! What’s all that, Strikie?,” Jack bemused.

“My small offering of humble gratitude, Jack,” an amused glint appeared on her optics “I did promise a repayment for the Prime’s ever so kind help, did I not,”

Starstrike’s voice was smooth, soft and calm when she spoke of Optimus. A hint of somber yearning could almost be heard if paid enough attention to. Nobody of course noticed. She hid it well. Who was she to needlessly worry the people around her anyway?

Raf pondered, “But wasn’t it just one cube though?”

Starstrike let out an amused hum. Oh the tiny chirpling was such a dear one. 

“The Prime has been more than kind to me in my unfortunate distress. He had to unfortunately carry my whole frame to my ship when I suddenly hit stasis,”

She leaned closer and whispered like a ghost. “As the bearer of the Matrix seems to dislike proper etiquette and decorum of gratitude by the 13 Originals, the small offering should suffice instead,” her tone was a bit dry in the beginning of the statement.

Miko snorted at her remark. Optimus was the most polite person in the base (and now) in addition to her Strikiebun. To hear her complain about OP being ‘rude’ sounded so funny. 

For Optimus, it was fascinating to see the way his Little One—No, Starstrike interacted with the children. She was like a curious organic bird inspecting a hole on the ground by a river in some meadow. The newcomer was surprisingly sweet and gentle to the three. The scene warmed his spark. Even her tail was ever so slightly wagging left and right.

“Erm. What is wrong, Miko? What have you found so amusing?”

“The fact that you’re still salty about OP not accepting your grand ritual of gratitude! Hahaha”

“Shh, Miko. Do not state your reason so audibly,” Starstrike reprimanded in a very hushed tone.

“I wish not to appease disrespect to the holy rightful leader of our whole race, my friends. At least not blatantly in front of him,” she continued in her hushed tones.

“Ok but why are we whispering, Strikiebun?” 

“Do you truly not find the very reason obvious, Miko?!”

“It’s OP, Strikie. The nicest golden retriever to ever be,”

“That fact I do not dispute with yet I must remind your memory upon the fact that I am barely just well-acquainted with him,”

“Ya sure ‘bout tha’?”

Starstrike nodded rigidly. The two just looked similar. There were still physical minimal differences. Orion’s windows on his chassis formed a human alphabet T-like silhouette unlike the Prime’s two window panes. Orion did not have pipes protruding from his back. She let out a soft vent and a tired hint of a smile appeared on her faceplate. Her gaze softened to the children.

“Hence I act as do, my darling friends,” she vented softly. 

Starstrike then rose and turned to Optimus who was observing them secretly or that was what he thought. The other reason why Starstrike had to start whispering as quietly as she could. She did not underestimate the Prime’s audials.

Starstrike had her usual poised, elegant and kind expression on her faceplate but her optics were still warm. She confidently looked at the Prime into his optics just as promised. Optimus held his own calm and stoic expression with the exception of the optics too. Starstrike knelt on one knee and offered her ‘small’ offering of gratitude. Optimus was yet again speechless. Hadn’t they agreed on one cube!?

Ratchet almost dropped his tools on the table upon seeing the huge amount of large energon cubes that were more intense in color than their own reserves! Two cubes of high grade AND five considerably larger cubes of pure fuel. That young femme was giving them more fuel than she took! Optimus better accept that or else he will throw three wrenches at him for refusing such a benefit. A cold shudder went through Ratchet. Who was she!? One time she was like a scared sparkling and now she was something more. Just look at the cubes! They were adorned with decorative metals. The high grade…They did not look Cybertronian at all also the two other standard cubes too. The ones with copper decoration.

“Please accept this humble gift of gratitude, Prime, for you have truly been more than kind to me,” Starstrike’s optics held innocence and a certain desperation.

Starstrike really wanted the Prime to accept her offering. Just let her honor him. Please…He was the Prime. Truly a really kind one too but why did it feel like the Prime would refuse this too? Her expression remained poised and elegant but her optics held that desperation. 

Ratchet was not about to lose any drop of energon. Such good quality too. Most likely premium quality when observed the cube’s decoration. Optimus really better accept that whole basket. The femme was offering it out of her own free will. Somehow he did feel like Optimus was about to act like the honorable idiot he was.

Please, the Prime must not act like her most darling Orion. She wouldn’t be able to cope with the overlapping similarities and start to question his intellectual capabilities! Why was it like the Prime himself did not fully understand his position?

With great Ancestor Onyx, she didn’t had the need to fear being rejected of free-willed offerings. Also, they were in war! To reject fuel was tactically truly idiotic.

Optimus was shocked by the sheer amount of energon offered. He did not want to be greedy even though even though their energon reserves were barely sufficient.

He did not want to take advantage of Starstrike. Yes, they were at war but still it felt wrong of him to accept such an amount just because he helped her by giving one cube of energon. It simply felt like too much. But her optics…Why was she looking at him like that? So insistent. He was no god. Not really. 

Starstrike’s pov:

Orion, just take the basket, please! Wait, no! Please. Why would you want to reject my offering, Optimus Prime the bearer of the Matrix of Leadership? Truly must you have my arms dangle in the air. What was so shocking to you? As the Prime, you may only deserve the very possible best of any kind. I am giving this to you with my whole spark. I have observed that you do not feel comfortable with large amounts of gifts. This was the bare minimum already! If I did not respect your preferences, I would have given two crates worth of energon to you! 

Optimus Prime! Do not cause me to question Primus for choosing the Matrix to your care! Why must you hesitate!? I do not mind being on one knee in front of you but to leave me waiting in such a state. Why are you not saying anything? Why is your sparkpulse so troubled? Please, I truly beg of you, just take the basket. Must I truly audibly explain myself!? 

End of Starstrike’s pov.

Ratchet decided that he had to interfere. He saw Starstrike’s desperate optics. 

For some reason he felt like Starstrike had similar thoughts as he himself. Furthermore, the situation starsted to get awkward as well.

Ratchet commed Optimus:

“Optimus, just take the basket!”

“How can I. I don’t want to take advantage of her,”

“We’re not taking advantage of her if she’s offering it to you out of her free will, you selfless fool!”

“But–”

“Were at WAR AND LOW on energon, Optimus”

“Also Optimus, she said that she was offering a gift of gratitude”

“Also, don’t humiliate her. She might become a useful ally to us,”

“Ratchet, this is the very reason—”

“AepapapEpep, Optimus! That’s premium quality energon willingly offered. Those cubes are larger than ours and last longer too. Twice as long actually with how potent they are and the high grade can be for medical usage,”

“Fine, Ratchet,”

“Uhm..Ratchet, what should I say?”

“OPTIMUS! YOU OF ALL MECHS CANNOT BE SERIOUS!!”

“Ratchet, just look at her optics. How am I supposed to say anything to them?”

“A simple THANK YOU FOR YOUR GENEROSITY should be fine,”

The comm call ended.

When Optimus was about to take the offering, Bulkhead and Bumblebee suddenly entered the main hall.

“Hiyah, Princess! Whatcha got there?”

Starstrike turned her helm towards Bulkhead with a polite smile.

“Greetings, Bulkhead. I am merely thanking our rightful leader of his abundant kindness with a small gift offering,”

Bulkhead looked at the basket. “Aww! Thanks a bunch, Strikie! We’re really in need of fuel anyway. You just saved us a few weeks,”

Hah! Finally! She was relieved of the burden of holding her offering for far longer! If the Prime now refused, then it would for sure damage his credibility. Starstrike smiled with political glee for pikominutes.

Optimus blinked rapidly. He just saw as if the femme in front of him just sneered beastily at him. Or that was what he thought because after his blink it was as if he didn’t really see it.

Bulkhead approached Starstrike and took the basket from her in front of Optimus. 

Starstrike was a bit taken aback by it but gladly yielded. At least some people knew how to be reasonable.

Optimus bashfully then tried to gather himself and said the needed sayings as the leader. 

“...Thank you for your generosity, Starstrike,”

Starstrike responded with a hint of amusement blinking in her white glowing pale sapphire optics.

“It was my honor to honor your authority, Prime,” her voice was smooth and soft like fresh trickle of rain. 

“Please, I am no better than anyone else,” Optimus mumbled. 

A small and mild shy chuckle escaped Starstrike. “A jest this must be, Prime. Not just anyone gets to be blessed by Primus himself with the honor of the Matrix. Unfortunately I beg to disagree”

Starstrike rose back up and stood a bit closer to Optimus.

Optimus rolled his optics and more or less complained to himself. “It feels more like a curse at this point,”

Starstrike stood up and shook her helm flexing up her golden angel wing-like finials.

She shifted closer to Optimus as she remembered what he said to her about him not minding about her standing even a little closer to him. It was also more or less a subconscious action too. She felt comfortable around the kind Prime anyway for some weird reason.

“Good leadership may be simple yet never has it ever been easy,”

Her sire used to complain how frustratingly long it took to standardise day offs all over Cybertron. As the governor of Praxus, he already could use the authority he had to make Praxus even more prosperous. But all over Cybertron? He had to present concrete proof and out-argue stuffy Iaconians in the Council. 

A shy and small smile appeared on Optimus’ faceplate when he heard Starstrike. 

She really was wiser than she looked. She was even able to comfort Bumblebee with her wisdom when he couldn’t. The children too. Even he inched closer to Starstrike. 

Both of them shared a look with their optics softening the longer they looked at each other. Ever so calmly and subconsciously did Optimus reach out his servo to scratch below Starstrike’s helm. It felt so natural for him to do so. 

Starstrike herself was deep in her thoughts too that she did not even flinch.

She instead started to softly purr as he scratched her. She even accidentally leaned her helm against his. It felt heavenly for her. When even was the last time she got to enjoy such delight anyway? 

Then Optimus realized what he was doing and he froze. He just now had gone yet again disrespect Litt–No! Starstrike’s boundaries. Last time was days ago when she first arrived at the base where he caressed her faceplate with his thumb digit and now this. At that time both of them were quite tired at that time but now it was different. Optimus froze with optics wide and then abruptly took his servo back.

Who was he to just go and touch someone from such an area without prior permission!

“I–My deepest apologies, Litt—Starstrike! Forgive me, I have disrespected your space,”

Starstrike also realized what just happened. She blinked her optics and quickly brushed away any possible tears piling under her optics. She took deep vents. 

How could she let down her guard so much. She wasn’t hallucinating. It was real.

This was not Iacon’s Archives but the touch was real. Her spark was beating strongly. 

She then looked at Optimus with her finials pointing downwards. Why didn’t she react sooner? Admittedly, the scratches were quite nice. 

“Erm…Apology accepted, Prime. Please do not burden yourself with such guilt anymore. I should have reacted sooner…Erm,” Why did she really enjoy his touch?

“Truly, Starstrike, I am really sorry. I…I do not know what caused me to act towards you in such a way. I—This won’t happen again, I promise,” his voice was sad.

Starstrike looked away. She fought the urge to just slump to her knees. She fisted her servos so that she wouldn’t shudder and shake. 

She mumbled. “I…I understand…But with permission…I may allow it if you should next time…They were quite enjoyable,”

Sh–She enjoyed it?! Hmm. Little One did purr from it. The resonance from it on his frame did destress himself too. The purring somehow warmed his spark too. —NO! Get it together! IT IS STARSTRIKE! What was happening to him?! Optimus clutched his servo against himself. He had just violated someone’s autonomy in daylight! 

Starstrike had to meanwhile fight her spark’s roaring urge to just have her helm rubbing against the Prime’s frame. Yes, the Prime was kindsparked but that did not mean that she could just lower her defenses so soon! They weren’t that close yet to show such affection. Oh how she wished her makers were with her right now. 

What was she supposed to do? She even stifled a quiet sniffle. 

The scratches were really nice and she simply wanted more but she just couldn’t ask for more of them lest she got too vulnerable. She pursed her lipplates. Her finials were haphazardly twitching up and down. It hurt to resist her spark’s yearning.

She just really could not blatantly ask for more! She couldn’t, it was too improper anyway. He was the Prime—Well great-Ancestor Onyx was too–B–But that was different! Onyx was her direct ancestor a-and family…Also, he wasn’t Orion despite how similar they were in appearance and conduct. 

Optimus saw how her finials were twitching rapidly. Also the fact that she was heavily venting out slow and big vents. All that happened just because he accidentally scratched under her helm. His spark sank from the sight. Apologies could be said but it did not immediately mean that the pain left as soon as the apologies were expressed.

Ever since Bumblebee entered the main hall with Bulkhead, he was left observing the interaction between Strikie and Optimus. To be frank, it was concerning and weird by the least. The weirdness was the fact that both claimed to not know each other but the way they spoke and acted showed that this wasn’t the case at all.

The concerning part was the emotional weight both of them carried and expressed.

It was interesting to see and hear Strikie purr and Optimus scratching her but when Optimus stopped it was the concerning part. Why was Optimus so ashamed when Strikie literally told him that it was fine? Bumblebee also saw how his new friend stifled a sniffle but couldn’t stop a tear from escaping her optic. Bumblebee wanted to go and just give Starstrike a nice hug but it seemed like he just shouldn’t interfere.

He just simply had to stay on the sidelines yet again. 

For Ratchet the whole interaction was completely strange yet informative. After the data surge by the Matrix, Optimus had been acting strangely. He somehow knew and predicted how Starstrike would act around. Like he knew her really well. Even stranger was the fact that Starstrike herself did not even flinch from Optimus’ touch at all. Both of them were strangely synchronized with each other. To be honest, Optimus acted more like Orion than a Prime he’d come to know after his old friend got the Matrix. So he really still had it in him, huh. So the Matrix didn’t truly wipe his spark away like Ratchet had been dreadfully suspecting. Though how was he supposed to bear and see Optimus act like that? A hazy mist between ‘Optimus’ and ‘Orion’.

Optimus was far too worried from the sight he was witnessing. He now regretted even more for losing control of himself. Yet he still wanted to comfort her so badly and just…Have her fully in his tight embrace…Of course he shouldn’t and couldn’t anyway…What if he drove her further away from him? Also, why was he even so concerned whether or not Starstrike would accept him? Did he actually have a certain connection to her? Hmm…She did say that she might let him help if he just asked her.

“Starstrike, is something the matter?” his voice was gentle and low.

Starstrike froze up for a short moment. Her initial thoughts were to deny everything but she was caught quite red-servoed. To fully deny everything felt tactically and logically illogical. She, furthermore, didn’t hear or detect any illintention from the Prime’s sparkbeat. Even the Matrix sounded like it was concerned too. 

“Oh, pardon me to have caused you worry, Prime. It has merely been just a little over four vorns since my makers’ passing. I was reminded of them which caused me to have the deepest yearning for them,” Somehow the 300 vorns of separation from Orion felt as fresh as the offlining of her carrier and sire.

So that was the reason. The scratching really wasn’t the reason. His spark felt lighter. Just four vorns ago? She was still mourning her makers. She must had been really loved by them. 

“There is none to apologize for, Starstrike. They must have been immensely dear to you…I, uhm, may I?” he reached out his servo. 

More scratches? Sure! Why not? Starstrike somber optics light up slightly when she turned her helm towards Optimus.

She nodded with her finials slightly raised up. “You may,”

Optimus put his servo comfortingly on her shoulderplate. Starstrike’s finials drooped as soon as he placed his servo on her shoulderplate. Hmph! And here she thought she’d get more ‘scritches’.

Optimus noticed the drooping finials. Even though her faceplate didn’t indicate anything, somehow he knew from the fact that her finials drooped downwards quite rapidly meant something else. Was she…dissapointed?

Starstrike slowly molded her faceplate to a tired and calm smile. The Prime’s sparkpulse was yet again somewhat erratic for some reason. Even though she did say that she enjoyed the scratches, she understood if the Prime felt…For a lack of better wording, more or less weirded out. She hadn’t exactly revealed her dual heritage anyway. Just in case for her own survival. She was no mind reader despite hearing the sparkpulses of everyone else.

“Thank you, Prime,” her voice was barely a whisper. Hopefully this calmed him down because she still appreciated the gesture.

A small smile and a knowing look appeared on Optimus. “Happy to help,”

Starstrike’s smile widened ever so slightly. She savored the touch as she was in no hurry anyway. The cement was supposed to come tomorrow anyway.

The children were observing this whole interaction wide eyed. It was quite the emotional rollercoast. Never did they expect to see Optimus, the wise and great leader, to fumble around someone so much. They had seen him lead the Autobots with full confidence and face Megatron without even as much as twitching. 

But when it came to Starstrike, it was surprisingly awkward to watch from the sidelines.

First it was awkward silence when Starstrike was left hanging. Then Bulkhead came and saved the situation. Then they see the exchange in wisdom. Then more awkward silence when they stare at each other. Starstrike’s purring was cute, especially for Miko, then Optimus had to fumble it (in Miko’s opinion). 

Then Starstrike suddenly got sad because (in Miko’s opinion) the scratches ended.

Of course it also because she missed her parents as she revealed though it felt like it was more than that. Weirdly enough, it looked like both of them were in their own world. Yet they claim to have basically ‘just met’ each other.

Optimus felt like he could have his servo forever on his Little One. The smooth crystalline plating on her shoulderplate felt weirdly enough really sturdy yet relatively soft (in Cybertronian standards as beings made of cybermatter). Yet somehow it was also the same material that made it hard to sense one’s sparkpulse when being carried. Fascinating indeed. It was so smooth that it was hard to resist caressing it with his thumb digit. Was that the reason why he had always enjoyed carrying her in the Archives? —What was that?! C-C-carry her?! Where did that come from? 

Well, here was at least another sign that he could have as proof of his suspicion but he still needed more. He wasn’t on an intimate spot on her frame so…A little caressing wouldn’t been improper, right? Right!? She-she did mention that she enjoyed the scratches though they were from an intimate spot—It was fine, RIGHT!?

Her plating was just so nice smooth and slippery in a sense. According to the children, her faceplate felt like the organic porcelain material too. He–he was just going to use his thumb digit to just gently caress her shoulderplate. It really shouldn’t be a problem, right? He even used to do that to Bumblebee too and sometimes even nowadays too.

On the other servo, Starstrike was just enjoying Optimus’ servo’s weight on her shoulderplate since she did not get those scratches. She wasn’t one to be picky with how others wanted to sincerely comfort her. Everyone was different anyway.

Optimus unfortunately (in his own opinion) couldn’t contain himself of his selfish desires. He was going to gently caress her shoulderplate with his thumb digit.

When Optimus gave in into his desires, his spark warmed by his action. 

Surprisingly and for his secret relief, Starstrike did not give any negative response.

Quite the opposite actually. She just quickly glimpsed at his servo but her gaze softened even more and her soft smile widened. Then suddenly she slowly bent her helm and nuzzled her faceplate unto the back of his servo.

What was she doing!? She shouldn’t be doing this in any way or manner! 

But the touch and-and th-the Prime just felt so safe! It was too soon! Far too soon!

It felt so nice and safe though…And hey! Rafael did mention how some people just clicked together without much need to…Y’know, know each other. Though was this too much even for the ‘clicking people’ theory? Perhaps she could just ask the Prime himself if she had somehow offended him. He was no Onyx. She was also submitting herself to the Prime’s authority so technically she shouldn’t be doing anything wrong. 

Starstrike slowly and shyly lifted her helm to meet Optimus’ optics. Her finials point downwards again and she looked at him with wide optics and her helm slightly cocked sideways.

A soft voice came out from her. “Prime, I hope my gesture just a moment ago did not cause you any offense for I meant none to be caused?”

Aww. She was so adorable. Why would he had been offended by her? He rather felt honored by such fondness towards him. Somehow this also felt like a natural thing to expect from her, weirdly enough. Well, the main thing was that she liked it. That was the point anyway–not because he had wanted to always do that to her or anything… OK, who was he deceiving? Why was he having such thoughts for a femme around as old as Bumblebee? 

“There was no offense caused…Starstrike,”

Starstrike’s finials rose up and her faceplate relaxed. Her bird-like wings slightly shifted in a flapping motion. Phew! Perhaps she would just appeal to the click theory if anyone asked. Now that she thought about it, IF ANYONE ASKED. She looked around herself. By the groundbridge stood Bumblebee and to her left on the human area were the children. Primus help her! What were she herself and the Prime doing in front of them?! Oh noooo… Wha-what nowwww… ? Sire heeellppp!!! She just did something absolutely awkward in front of her new frieeenndddssss…

She stiffly turned her helm towards Bumblebee with a lopsided smile and her left optical ridge twitching from pure loss of proper dignity. How was she supposed to explain this without sounding desperate? Bumblebee responded with a shaking double ‘thumbs up’. She had explicitly stated that she did not consider (yet within herself) the Prime as her friend. She needed to get to know him more before she could ever consider him worthy of her friendship—Bumblebee and the children were different cases! They were of the same age group as her. Adults worked differently.

She really wanted to evaporate into oblivion right now out of complete disregard of proper decorum. She was no sparkling anymore that could be explained away with the innocence of the matters how a world functioned.

She looked to the children. Jack gave an awkward smile. Miko had her fists on her hips smugly smiling. Raf had the same pose as Bee smiling encouragingly. 

She was the daughter of the Governor of Praxus and a mighty Onyx-blessed warrior.

Now that she listened more closely. The Matrix was laughing amusedly?! She was unaware that Onyx Prime was watching her through the window of the Matrix of Leadership. Yes, the Matrisx itself was amused too but it was mostly Onyx cackling on the other side of the window. Neither did she hear her great Ancestor nor recognize it because it was mixed with the Matrix’ purr and the Prime’s own sparkpulse. 

Starstrike tried her best to regain back any leftover elegance and dignity left to salvage from this situation. She fixed her composure and stance. She made sure to move slowly so that it looked poised, composed and intentional. 

She molded her faceplate to express a tender and confident smile. 

Strategically speaking, it was the most natural reasonable situation to do so.

If she were to return to her usual collected, polite and kind smile, it would had completely exposed the fact that she socially fumbled. 

“My sweetest gratitudes, Prime, for not finding offence in my gesture,” her voiced regained weight and warmth of her usual fresh morning dew voice that she usually spoke in.

Meanwhile Optimus had the almost exact same thoughts as Starstrike once he also realized what just happened between them in front of everyone. Optimus looked into his Little One’s–No, ahem, Starstrike’s optics. Oh thank her for saving the situation.

He then responded a knowing look. He then regained his ‘wise Prime’ mode before responding. 

“How could I ever come into offence from such a noble gesture, Starstrike?,” he actually had no idea whether or not it was a noble one but let’s just play with it.

Starstrike let out a polite chuckle behind her elegantly positioned digits. “A noble gesture indeed, pfft,”

Miko was not having it. It was too intimate to be whatever Strikie tried to signal. 

She was really going to bust it out.

“You guys sure you’re not pretending about not knowing each other. Acquaintances my foot! You guys definitely are some secret relatives,” Miko’s voice was somewhat needlessly harsh though not that loud.

Starstrike’s faceplate scrunched a bit at Miko’s way of addressing both her and the Prime or more on the Prime.

“Now Miko, do mind your tone when you are directly addressing the Prime. Secondly, biologically speaking both of my makers were airborne and to my knowledge, my heritage does not include any land based ancestry. Furthermore, I would like to plead Raf’s click theory of how some people somehow get along well,” Starstrike’s voice was lined with some elegant smugness after her slight reprimand about how to address Optimus.

“B-B-but–,”

“Miko, I did previously state to you that there are others that may share the same traits as I,” Optimus helped.

“My my, a wise counterargument, Prime,” Starstrike was delighted. 

“Somethimes one’s memorybank refreshing is needed,” Optimus replied.

Starstrike bursted into small chuckles. “Now now, let us not embarrass our female organic friend here,”

Miko was speechless. Was Optimus always that devious? Strikiebun and Oppy really did get surprisingly well along. Even though new and bizarre, it was nice to see Optimus at least truly relaxed with someone besides Docbot.

“Speaking of similarities, I must truly admit that your kind and compassionate servo on my shoulderplate truly reminded me of my most darling best friend. He used to also comfort my feelings with the very friendly gestures you use. Even that unintentional scratching, hahaha,” the last sentence carried a smoke of bittersweetness.

“I understand, Prime, that you were most likely distressed for suddenly doing so but fear not. I was truly not offended,” 

“That friend of yours must’ve been quite close to you then,”

“He indeed was,” A sweet smile and silent longing filled Starstrike.

“I may not be him but thank you for the honor to have you compare me to him,” 

“Oh please Prime, I was merely stating the facts upon my previous behavior. That was all. You are two different yet quite similar mechs,” Starstrike was fully relaxed yet respectful around Optimus after claiming the click theory.

“I am merely saying this out of reference, Prime. Unlike you, that sentimental and entertaining fool of my most darling friend would have been by now trying to still gauge whether he really didn’t hurt my feelings. Especially the first few stellar cycles of our budding friendship,” 

Optimus chuckled. “Perhaps he just wanted to be absolutely sure. Just in case,”

“He truly tested the limits of my patience. The amount of logical arguments I had to use to salvage whatever scraps of his logic was left in his vained worry,” Starstrike tiredly shook her helm at the memory. 

Why did her memory sound so familiar? As a Prime he had also dealt a lot with sparklings and younglings, so perhaps it was simply pure coincidence. 

A/N: "This is Ancient Cybertronian speech"

Ratchet, oh boy was he stunned from what he had witnessed happening in front of him! Never would he ever believed to have witnessed such awkwardness and bashfullness from Optimus in such drastic measures—No! That was not Optimus. That was the most Orion Pax-like conduct that he had ever seen in millennials of stellar cycles. If Optimus ever was feeling something, it was shown much less outwards. But this four-winged glowing femme, who was as tall as Ratchet himself upon better observation, caused his old friend to fumble like this. Primus! What was happening?! Why did Starstrike have such an effect on Optimus? The way their frames moved showed a weird type of mirroring to each other where when Optimus’ posture was going inwards Starstrike’s was open and vice versa. What was even more strange was how both Starstrike and Optimus didn’t seem to notice it at all…

Starstrike didn’t take long in checking the holes. After checking them, she ordered the closest amount of cement and requested for Fowler to deliver them to the silo. 

To her disappointment, the cement bags were only sold in fixed amounts so she was bound to be left with extra amount of cement. Apparently they did not sell a custom amount of cement. Oh how disappointing! Praxus always had the option to order a custom amount of material in addition to the fixed amounts. 

The children couldn’t do much but to stomach the things they just witnessed happening between Starstrike and Optimus. It was quite a rollercoaster of emotions. Optimus was surprisingly openly expressive because usually he was much calmer and knew what he was doing. This time he looked like a clueless dad who tried to comfort a distressed child. Also, Starstrike’s way to act towards Optimus was a mix of different things. It was really polite and rigid yet really emotional. It was weird to witness that Starstrike apologized to Optimus that she ‘raised her voice’ from Raf’s usual softspoken way of speaking to Jack’s normal speaking volume. 

OK. Maybe she did speak in a bit harsher tone but she didn’t really raise her voice like Ratchet would. Now going back to their homework was even harder. At least they were relieved that Starstrike started to warm up to Optimus. 

Optimus himself also tried to get back to the reports buuuttt..His concentration was also elsewhere. He constantly peeked from the monitors to check on his Li–Starstrike. His Starstrike? What was he thinking?! Starstrike belonged to no one except to herself! Why did his spark feel a pull to her? Why did it feel heavy when they were not even that far apart from each other? In addition, they barely knew each other. Or that's what it seemed like. . One thing was clear, he needed more proof. 

After Starstrike realized that she couldn’t order the exact amount of cement, she let out a disappointed heavy sigh. What was she going to do with the excess amount of it? She was not going to repeat the same mistakes anyway. Starstrike had yet again forgotten her surroundings. She put her fisted servos on her hips and shook her helm slowly at the mess she had made aka the eight holes on the floor. If she just could had calmed down at that time, she wouldn’t have to fix any messes she had caused. Oh well, at least she didn’t need to write a minimum of seven hundred-page long essay about it. Starstrike smiled fondly at the thought. On a second thought the essays her sire appointed as punishment never really felt like punishments. They were rather enjoyable because she got to think and use her logic to either try to prove him wrong or confirm her sire of him being right. The logical conclusions that she had gone into gave her great satisfaction within herself.

“Is something mattering you, Li–Starstrike?” a gentle baritone asked.

Oh my! Argh, not again! Yes, this was not the Iacon Archives but Autobot Outpost Omega One. She shouldn’t had let her guard down so easily. She quickly fixed her posture back to her elegant one. She then smoothly turned to the source of the voice.

“Oh, there is nothing significant bothering me, Prime. Thank you for asking. I have simply discovered an irritating and miniscule detail entailing my repair plans,” she answered calmly.

“May I know the source of your mild irritation then?”

Starstrike walked away from the holes. 

“The fact that I simply could not order the exact amount of this particular brand of cement that was originally used in building this missile silo. Only fixed amount of it is sold causing me to order more than needed. In Praxus one could choose from ordering a custom amount of material of any kind in addition to fixed amounts,”

Starstrike was from Praxus? Well, that explained her way of moving in extreme precision. 

“You are from Praxus, Starstrike?” his optics brightened.

“Yes, I indeed am, Prime,” Starstrike inched closer to Optimus. 

Of course they were a good distance apart from each other but she didn’t have to raise her voice to communicate. They were close enough to each other where the echoes emitted within the hall were minimized.

“Then I believe that this small irritation of yours is justified,” he lightly quipped.

Starstrike raised one of her optical ridges. “Please do advance your reasoning, Prime,” 

Her golden bird wing-like finials shot up. “What should I do with the remaining amount of cement? Verily, I am not planning on repeating my mistakes if I understand the logic behind it,”

By then Optimus had forgotten the rest of his reports. Well, they weren't that important anyway. Getting to know Starstrike felt far more important at the moment. 

“Please, allow me to ask this first. Why not save the extra material for later use?”

Starstrike cocked her helm sideways and put her fisted servo under her chin and one of her talons tapped the floor for a little while. Then her optics widened as she clapped her fist on to the palm of her servo.

“Oh! Do pardon me for giving you insufficient amount of prior information. I truly should have informed that the surplus of cement remained after usage will be merely one sixth of the sack’s initial amount,” her voice light and graceful.

An amused small smile appeared on his faceplate. My my how exact we are. Somehow the fact that she was from Praxus did not explain why he was feeling amusement from Starstrike’s added information. Why was it that it felt typical of her to correct herselrf in such manner?

“Despite that, Starstrike. My point still stands. Why not save it for later use?”

“That is simply because I do not find any optimal usage for my later dealings. Why should I keep such inferior material near me when I verily do not have any usage for such material?” she then later sighed.

Why should she keep useless materials that are of low quality compared to her other materials that were far superior in durability and so on? She really did not have any sensible usage and need for cement in her ship. She repositioned her bird-like wings straighter.

“Now, please do not misunderstand, Prime. I am merely comparing the cement to high Praxian standards. I am not trying to diminish its value,” 

Well, her taloned pedes’ claws did feel like the floor was like crumbling bread but she was too polite to complain about such minor things during war.

Optimus inwardly rolled his optics while his gaze remained polite and gentle. Why would he be offended? Cybertronian materials were relatively sturdier than materials here on Earth. How silly of her. —-Wait, she was silly? Taking note of other’s feelings were not silly?! It was a good trait. Having empathy was a great skill and a thing. 

Even he himself cared for others’ feelings when it was reasonable. Which was basically all the time. He neither enjoyed hitting or fighting others nor killing. Unfortuanately it was a necessary thing to do.

“I paid no mind to it, Starstrike,” his voice rumbled gently.

Starstrike’s golden angel wing-like finials gently went upwards and she blinked four times. A  hinting ghost of an almost gentle and sweet smile flashed on her faceplate before returning back to her usual polite and elegant one. 

“Then I am glad to be informed of this,” her tone was elegant. “Yet the question still stands. Why should I keep something that I have no use of?”

Optimus stopped to ponder his Little One’s—It was Starstrike, Optimus. Please, get a grip now. He was well aware that giving nicknames to people you barely knew was rude. Even in your own processor. He was not one of those people who immediately gave nicknames to others…Well not anymore—Well he never gave any to the people the of the same age group as him upon first-time meetings.

“Hmm…If you really do not have any sensible use for the surplus of cement, have you considered dividing the amount to the eight holes?” 

“Oh I have but unfortunately it imposed a hazardous safety risk of having the patchwork be 1/48 thicker than the original flooring,” Starstrike complained.

“Oh! How it was otherwise a good option but the risk would be too big to take,” she continued.

Since Ratchet was obviously eavesdropping, he coughed upon hearing the ‘safety risk’. It was barely even a risk. Even Iacon’s roads weren’t so perfect. Ratchet was unaware how prinstinely even the roads of Praxus were.

Optimus scrunched his faceplate and cocked his helm sideways. He even raised his optical ridge. “How come that miniscule difference in thickness would be a safety risk, Starstrike?”

“Well, if it happened to be that Bumblebee to race into the silo at great speed and do those dramatic breaks, there is a possible risk of his tires tripping with the higher edge of the flooring causing him to bounce and cause more damage to himself and the others. Yes, he has told me about how he sometimes excitedly cruises in with tremendous speed,” she pondered.

“If you do not mind, I would like to tell you one occasion where this difference in thickness caused an injury on the road,” she started.

Little Starstrike and her makers were walking along a street in Crystal City. Everything was bright and shiny. A nice place for Starstrike and her carrier since they basically blended in with the buildings. In other words, not many people were staring at the two femmes of the trio. The Saint of Praxus on the other servo was quite visible due to his cobalt plating. Since the sun was still shining, the Saint of Praxus, little Starstrike’s sire, stuck close under his dear conjunx’ wing because her towering stature caused a big shadow. The carrier was carrying her Chripling on her shoulders. 

The Saint’s optical ridges were ever so slightly knitted together. 

There really wasn’t any difference in his usual calm,cool and collected elegant expression to an outsider’s optics but there was. The Saint’s optics were ever so ghostly narrowed. The reason for such an faceplate? He lost in rock-datapad-sword to his mighty conjunx which determined who got to carry his darling Striking Star. 

How did he lose? His conjunx heard his chosen move from how his spark pulsed. 

He should had known better! He should had changed the frequency of how his spark beated. Oh well, it was not a big deal anyway.

On the opposite side of the road happened to be walking a high caste mech with quite high and needlepoint heelstruts. That same mech even sported an unpractically extravagantly decorated helm design that served no other purpose than to draw attention. The Saint ever so slightly raised his optical ridge at the sight and he thought Iacon’s high caste’s taste in helm design was illogical. Thankfully the Saint towered the high caste mech so the ever so slightly judging optics of the Saint were left unseen. Perhaps Crystal City’s high cast’s taste in what was stylish for helm designs trumped the cards in levels of how ridiculous they were.

Then the same high caste mech suddenly tripped unto his faceplate to the street! 

Because of the helm design and the needle point heelstruts vastly changed his point of balance, that high caste mech couldn’t stop his falling helm first to the street. 

My my the scene was hilarious! The mighty carrier and Starstrike fought dentas and bolts to keep their cool while the Saint gently coughed into his fist.

When the ever so posh fallen mech rose up, his face had been molded to the street due to the fall and how heavy the helm was. The carrier had bite her lipplates really hard and blinked rapidly. Because she couldn’t control her faceplate anymore, she then shielded herself with her large bird-wing-like wing. Starststrike hit her carrier’s shoulderplate and swinged her tail like a beaver. Since the two of them blended in with the city’s architecture, nobody paid attention to them.

Once the fallen mech exited the scene trying to look elegant and dignified as if nothing just happened, the Saint shot a meaningful look to his Striking Star. He bore a cool and elegant smile but his optic twinkled. He then gestured with his optics to the area where the mech had fallen. Starstrike’s finials shot up as she smiled brightly. She then looked around all over from her carrier’s shouldeplates. 

When the coast was clear, she then gave the open servopalm sign where her thumb and index digit formed a circle. The sire then took out a very precise ruler and swiftly measured how much the bump of the street differed to the rest. The carrier simply softly trilled and rolled her golden optics at her family’s ‘logical mathematic research’.

The Saint did not waste time on the area. Once he got the measurements, he got up swiftly and gracefully. Despite his size the air shift caused was minimal and felt like a gentle breeze. He then returned to his family.

“Tsk tsk tsk” he shook his helm “0.7799/60 of a difference in thickness to the rest of the street, my Striking Star” he mused.

“We have keep in mind that this is Crystal City and not Praxus, sire dearest,” Starstrike’s voice was like wind chimes.

“Indeed and verily, Striking Star,” The sire’s optics brightened. “That comes to re-enable my memory to have Praxus’ streets inspected. Especially the least wealthy parts of it,” his calm and ethereal voice went higher causing it to sound like crystal bells.

The carrier rumbled, her voice smooth and heavy like velvet. “Darling, slow your pistons, dear. D’not forget the logistics that’ve to be taken into account when the results of th’ inspections come. You’re talkin’bout the lower caste’s living spaces,”

The Saint let out a rumbling of his own engines back. He then calmed down his voice returning back to its ethereal elegant splendor. “Windy dearest, Truly have I not forgotten to take that into account. Cause not any surplus worry, my love,”

“Carrier, Can I please get down now?” Starstrike whined. 

“Not a chance, Chirpling” she churtled.

“Oh come on! I’ll be good. Hmph!” Starstrike folded her arms as her bird-like wings shut behind her.

“Your enthusiasm and curiosity caused you to this very predicament, Striking Star,” the sire interjected.

“Fwwiiinee, hmph!” Starstrike gave up.

“How did you two even get together and fall in love? You two are so dissmm-difs–”

“Dissimilar, dear,” the sire corrected. 

“Yes indeed that,”

“Strikie, repeat after me: dissimilar,” the sire beckoned.

“...Dissimilar,”

“Excellent, Striking Star”

“My question still stands, sire,” 

The sire smiled fondly and bashfully. “On my point of view and part I am afraid to admit that I fell for your carrier in the most illogical way ever. It was love at first sight. The way the light scattered from her plating in the slums was geometrically enthralling,”

“On my part, Chirpling. Once I got to know him better and got to listen to his sparkbeat, did I start to find him attractive,” her voice velvety smooth.

“And not due to having a soft spot for stars shaped things?” the sire teased.

“Well!...That did play a part too BUT it was ONLY A SMALL percentage!” she huffed…

Starstrike of course left out from the memory how she and her carrier couldn’t contain their laughter at the fallen mech and the latter part of how she asked about her makers’ lovestory. She couldn’t reveal them. Not now or perhaps ever for her own safety. The high caste were despicable to the now former lower castes.

Optimus saw how Starstrike looked into intangible distance as she recounted the memory to him. Her optics and voice softened upon every word. Especially when she mentioned the mathematic results and her sire. A soft ghostly hint of a smile remained during her memorial. In addition, even though her optics were soft, they carried heavy somber. The same somber as him. Took one to know one, so to say. 

Oh dear, he could see that tears started to well below her optic line. Not long after Starstrike seemed to have also noticed as she discreetly and elegantly brushed away her tears. Her golden angel wing-like finials got downturned. Her bird-like wings slightly cooped over herself as her cyan jet wings went limp but all that didn’t last long. Only under 20 seconds. Then her usual polite smile returned as she turned back to Optimus.

“Hence I simply cannot risk any imperfections if they can be avoided,” it would also result as her fault if anything happened due the flooring.

“I…Understand, Starstrike” 

Starstrike’s optics grew gentle and remained so. She took a pair of shy steps closer. She then abruptly took one step back. She then coughed lightly to her fist.

“Oh, pardon me, Prime,” 

What was wrong with her. That wasn’t Orion!? She regretted ever telling the memory. Perhaps a list of accidents in Praxus due to similar reasons would had sufficed more.

Optimus couldn’t understand why Starstrike apologized to him. She hadn’t done anything to apologize for. What did she do!? 

“Starstrike, I don’t understand. What are you implying?” his voice ever so slightly cracked. 

Starstrike stared at him. She bore a look that implied that the reason was quite obvious. That same expression was also schooled back when she turned her helm away for a moment. Starstrike wanted to just run back to the Aurora Mist by then. 

Oh how she just wished that her sire could just swoop in and smooth things over with the Prime! Also why did she feel so comfortable around him anyway. Usually she wouldn’t fumble so much. On the other servo, it had been many vorns since the last time she socialized with anyone really. Oh goodnes how awkward it was for her! Since she was still facing away, she twisted her faceplate in various ways in frustration and social embarrassment.

OK. There was no choice but to just strive on till the end and bring this conversation to its end. Oh great-great-great-grandsire Onyx! Please grant her the courage and strength to continue this fumbled interaction (and maybe not tell Prima?).

She internally struggled to turn her helm back to the Kind Prime. After all these social fumbles, the Prime had been rather forgiving. Eerily forgiving. 

Starstrike regained confidence in her voice. “I did not mean to intrude your personal space without permission. I was being disrespectful,” 

“Ah…Yes,” The both of them were at Optimus’ arm’s length. A terribly long distance for Optimus to consider it rude to take two extra steps closer to him. 

Nope, he could not stand this awkward distance himself. He had better to come closer to her himself. Optimus carefully and calmly took about three steps closer to Starstrike. Starstrike froze as her optics widened.

His voice was ever so gentle. “Actually Starstrike, you did absolutely nothing wrong. You did not by any means ‘intrude my personal space’. You may even stand closer if you ever so wish to,”

Starstrike whispered to herself rather bashfully. “But we are still just merely good acquaintances. It would be utterly indecent and improper of us,”

Acquaintances…That’s what she saw between them? She called the children and Bumblebee as her friends. But him merely an good acquintances!? Upon further thinking though she was technically right. 

“I truly do not mind if the standing distance is a bit closer between us,” his voice was ever so gentle. 

He even subconsciously gave Starstrike what Miko would had called ‘puppy dog eyes’.

Who was that was standing in front of her?! Was this not the Optimus Prime? Starstrike’s spark was about to melt from the sight and her optics well up with tears.

He wasn’t her ORION! What was happening? Starstrike forced herself to calm down.

An unsure smile plastered on her faceplate as her voicebox felt tight. “I-I am well informed. Thank you for the privilege, Prime,”

Starstrike had to restrain every bolt and cable within her from the pure urge to just jump and have the Prime in her own embrace and tuck her helm into his neckcabling. Oh how unfair!

Optimus just smiled from her response. Now that the distance ‘mishap’ was solved, he could go back into helping his Little One—Starstrike in what to do with the excess amount of cement. He looked around the floor for anything that they might had missed during their pondering. He then took note of the cracks that webbed from the eight holes.

“Starstrike, what about the cracks that were caused by the holes? Have you taken them into considerations during your calculations,”

Starstrike looked around and a delighted smile appeared on her face and her finials tapped.

“Oh dear me! I had completely disregarded the thin webbed cracks that have reached even here. Perhaps I did not order too much. Thank you, Prime!”

“Happy to help, Starstrike,” 

Starstrike’s both pairs of wings wiggled from pure delight. She crouched down and traced the crack lines with the tip of her index digit. While tracing it she grinned as her finials tapped uniformly up and down. Oh how delightful! There was no waste anymore. 

Optimus’ optics just softened even more from the sight though from the angle he was standing did not see the grin on Starstrike’s faceplate. For some reason he could understand from the way her finials moved that she was happy. How did he know that she was happy from how her finials moved? Something really seemed to be more than he thought would be. He really must rewatch the memory from earlier.

Optimus then left Starstrike alone and more or less (not that he would ever admit it to himself) forced himself back to the monitors. For some reason the reports felt less than entertaining. Wait. Why did he complain about the reports? The reports were part of his duty as the leader of the Autobots. When even was the last time he complained about reports?...The Archives? Optimus shook his helm at the thoughts he just had. He was a Prime after all. Never would he ever know how much Starstrike would be making fun of him about such thoughts.

Ratchet was at a loss for words from what he had just witnessed between Starstrike and Optimus. Usually Optimus would had just accepted someone like Starstrike’s explanation of being rude and just went on with it. This was not it! The fact that he even witnessed his old friend’s voice cracking at a stranger who just happened to be overly polite was not like the Prime at all. I mean even Starstrike understood that situation to be strange. He could see it from her faceplate that this was strange. Where was Optimus’ integrity. Since Ratchet was yet again eavesdropping out of worry for the whole team and definitely not because he was suspicious about the newcomer.

After Starstrike had calmed down, she got back up from the eight holes and discreetly stretched. She also stifled a yawn from escaping her. She rapidly blinked her optics instead. Now was the ripe time to exit the silo since Agent Fowler hadn’t yet answered back to her e-mail. In addition, she did promise to finally meet with Onyx Prime. It was due time that she would make amends with her great ancestor Onyx. The meditation would also fan out her processor of all the things that just happened between her and the Prime. She now with light and silent steps left the silo back to the Aurora Mist, where her sensors could rest from the rough mechanics, codes and the awful beepings of different monitors.

*******

Back inside the Aurora Mist, Starstrike hesitantly sat down behind her own pilots’ seat between her carrier’s and sire’s seats by the controllers of the ship. The ship was indeed large. It was the only place where she felt like she didn’t need to keep her wings closed tightly to herself. A place where she could truly relax. In the silo she felt like she had to make herself as small as possible just so that she didn’t accidentally hit anything. The silo was indeed relatively small for her. How on Cybertron and Eukaris could the Prime survive in there. He just barely fit there and mr. Bulkhead too. Oh thank goodnes the Autobots allowed her to bring the Aurora Mist with her.

Starstrike calmed her nerves and closed her optics. She also had her xyloharp with her. She played ancient Eukarian tunes from the dawn of the Golden Age of Cybertron. The tunes she played calmed her frame. She could imagine the singing warriors of her carrier’s mighty tribe. The freedom in her wings. The only place where she didn’t need to watch her strength. Back there nothing was fragile. She could have her claws out and smile brightly with her fanged dentae. Now she focused on her own sparkbeat and the chambers within her spark. Starstike’s gentle white glow became brighter and brighter and turned golden. Her optics shot open glowing brightly like two suns. Her frame was completely still except for her servos which continued to play the xyloharp. The xyloharp’s sound was a mix of multiple different harps known on Earth and wind chimes. 

Starstrike’s optics did not see the interior of the ship anymore. What she saw was a space with flowing soft colors. From among the colors stepped forward from darkness a titanous being of four hooves and a pair of wings. In comparison Starstrike almost looked like a firefly before the mighty ancestor of hers. 

Starstrike in her spark fell on her faceplate to the ground with her both pair of wings 

crossed. Her bird-like wings raised up still crossed together. Starstrike’s whole being was shuddering in front of the great Onyx Prime. This time unlike in front of Optimus she did not have her servos in cup like shape. Heavy tears flowed like waterfalls from her optics. She simply could not lift her helm! No! She was utterly unworthy of his very presence! She had truly neglected her ancestor. She had greatly sinned.

She would by all means receive any smiting or punishment with honor from him.

“Starstrike, you may lift your frame from the ground,” Onyx beckoned his voice like strong wind. 

“Great and mightiest Ancestor Onyx Prime, I am in no right to even lift my optics to your countenance or let alone your optics,” her voice was small.

Onyx’ faceplate oozed with worry. He knew what loss felt like. He once lost Solus so he understood the pain. It had been too many vorns since he properly saw his dear great-great-granddescendant. He had been worried sick. The last time he could properly see her was through the Matrix itself. Once he could get a glimpse of her, was during whenever Optimus was near her. Before all that, all he could know was hear Starstrikes many laments during those lonely vorns in exile. Onyx was the one to send the comforting purrs through the Matrix. It pained to see his Sweet Tweet struggling with recalibrating her audials. 

Onyx lifted the kneeling Starstrike from her scruff unto his palm with his two massive claws from his thumb and index digit. Now Starstrike was frozen stiff on Onyx’ palm. 

He then started to lightly scratch by the stumps of her bird-like wings with his pinky digit’s claw. Starstrike involuntarily lowered her wings.

“You silly little fledgeling, I heard your lamentations in the ship. You have not failed me. You were mourning the loss of one of your homes and the offline of both of your makers,” 

"“Yet I should have remained in contact with your presence, mighty Ancestor Onyx."

"I hath disregarded my duties and solarcyclic rituals as part of thine direct bloodline.”

Ah yes the ‘duties’. The meditations were more like ways for his descendants and himself to keep contact with each other and for seeking wisdom from him. 

In addition, the meditations were for maintaining a healthy spark and processor so that the wild predaconian spark would stay wise and not cause them to become mindless beasts. Unlike some other white light glowing petty smartaft, Onyx did not require perfection. Constant contact was merely a nice perk of getting to know his descendants. —Oh wait! —Yes of course, how could he forget. Starstrike may had inherited his spark but her processor was from that Smartaft. Onyx rolled his scorching golden orange optics. He should had taken that into account. 

“Sweet Tweet, raise that stubborn helm of yours to mine, it is an order. Now disobedience to me could be considered something unwise and illogical,” By saying the last sentence, it would force Starstrike to naturally lift her helm.

How? By saying something logically contradicting usually aroused Starstrike’s processor to argue against it.

Without the paradox, Starstrike would had given another counter argument about…Well something about being so so disrespectful and long periods of improper conduct and whatnot. 

Yes, he understood respect and honor but wisdom says that sometimes it meant respecting one’s self and put other things to the side. Why force yourself in the name of duty and honor? In some manner it was also illogical so to say. Yes, it was illogical of her to shut herself from him but sometimes it was the wisest choice too. 

The spark wasn’t always the most logical one. It was obvious that her spark was aching so having it embraced and guarded from more things that could cause more sparkache was the wisest decision. 

Starstrike shot her helm up, her optical ridges scrunched up and her lipplates were twisted.

“But blind obedience could be considered unwise and illogical if the orders are not logically sound,” She shot up her index digit as her other servo was fisted on her hip.

Her chassis puffed. “The one complying to them may end up offline which would be unbeneficial for their initial survival,”

Onyx just grinned beastly showing off his jagged and fanged dentae. Starstrike was currently unaware how she was fooled into a social trap as she had her optics closed when she spoke. When Onyx just stayed quiet and did not respond to Starstrike, her processor re-analyzed the situation. She opened her optics halfway as her optical ridges fell straight. Her golden angel wing-like finials shot down when she let out a frustrated vent. Onyx’ grin just widened and his optics narrowed. He even licked his lipplates.

“HAH! I’ve gotcha, Sweet Tweet. How dare you assume that I would be angry at you! Let me remind you again, you were mourning. Yes, the fact that you closed yourself off could indeed be considered illogical but the spark is not always the most logical. Wisdom says that the wisest decisions are sometimes seem the most illogical,” Onyx beamed majestically.

“In some ways you did the most logical decision in self-preservation. Why risk your spark cracking if you’ve vowed to live for a better tomorrow?” he continued.

By then, Starstrike had calmed down and was looking straight at Onyx with twinkling white glowing pale sapphire optic with with finials tapping and helm cocked. She was also softly trilling and purring while listening to her great-great-great-grandsire. 

“Huh…That indeed was logical and wise-sounding argumenting,”  her voice was back to its usual soft morning dew. 

“Indeed it was! That Smartaft lighthouse is not the only one who knows logic!” Onyx puffed his chassis and cocked up his helm proudly and let out a mighty roar.

Starstrike laughed along with Onyx. Her laughter was a mix of the long lost wind chimes and her own beastly roars. In her books Onyx indeed was the most logical in regards to taking care of his descendants. Unlike Prima, Onyx was an active guardian with wisdom who regularly interacted with his descendants.

After all that, Onyx and Starstrike exchanged their experiences of so far. Starstrike shared about her discoveries of Earth and the things she talked about with Miko. 

She also vented how disrespectful Agent Fowler was to Optimus. She also shared how she liked Bumblebee. How his spark was stable without any hint of fear. 

During all that talking, Onyx just patiently listened and rubbed his Sweet Tweet’s belly. His optics were softly glowing and he purred. 

Back in the real world, Starstrike’s frame had ceased to play the xyloharp and fell into a peaceful recharge that lasted until the next day. He frame sprawled all over the ship’s floor. The xyloharp reste flat on her hips…

Somewhere in Pentagon:

Fowler had finally done all the paperwork he had to do. He had been in front of his laptop for countless hours. His undereyebags were dark and heavy. He looked like he was punched in both of his eyes. His office smelled like low quality burnt instant coffee and stuffy cologne and weirdly enough like sweat. Lower back pain and the fact that his butt felt like brass did not help his situation at all. 

Fowler sipped his burnt cooled down and somehow damp coffee. All he had to do was to check his e-mails one last time before clocking out and finally catch his measly amount of sleep. He opened his inbox. He slowly scrolled down until his eyes widened and almost choking in his coffee. 

“Oh fuuuuucckkkk…Not againnnn,” he massaged his temples.

That porcelain rainbow goddess had sent him an e-mail yet again. This time demanding HIM to deliver the cement to the silo. Fowler then got a call from his bank. —-What in Uncle Sam’s butt cheeks did he just hear. $100,000 in his bank account from someone called Stella Striker of Praxus!? Oh great! That rainbow missy had sent him money. Fowler figured out the sender to be Starstrike due to her mentioning Praxus. Fowler had to begrudgingly confirm the transaction to the bank. 

After the call ended, he immediately read Starstrike’s e-mail. Upon reading the e-mail, his eyes were about to pop out of his eye sockets. The $100,000 were just her payment for his delivering of the ordered cement! 

Huh… The girl wasn’t half as bad as he thought but how and where on Earth did she get $100,000?! Thankfully the cement would come in about two days so he didn’t need to deliver them right now and get some well-earned sleep. Of course that did not mean he could evade the fact that he needed to go to the silo and ask where did the girl get the money. Oh why was he in charge of the Autobots? Maybe the girl could somehow get him on a vacation in Fiji or something.

****

The next morning was a rather calm one. Starstrike was still under recharge in the Aurora Mist. In the silo and more specifically by the monitors stood Optimus Prime with a sour faceplate. The memory that he could replay in his processor had gotten corrupted. Everything was just fuzzy mass! Argh! How frustrating! It seemed like that memory had gone rotten when he took his time with Starstrike and didn’t rewatch it immediately. Furthermore, there was no audio at all. Just fuzzy unclear colored mass. No actual silhouette, none! 

The three children were still at school so it was relatively quiet in the main hall. Bulkhead and Bumblebee were sparring and Arcee was on patrol again. She needed space to think. She could not understand how soon Bulkhead warmed up to Starstrike. What was it in her that was so charming anyway? Except for Starstrike’s appearance, Arcee did not find anything notable about her that would make her any more special. The audacity that Starstrike had with everyone! Putting her helm down in front of Optimus AND getting mad at him for refusing it. Just to be clear that Arcee herself did not witness those things happening but rather heard from Ratchet, Jack and Bumblebee. Arcee sped up. The more she thought about Starstrike the more frustrated she got.

In the Aurora Mist’s command center, Starstrike was still under peaceful recharge and sprawled all over the floor. Now even the xyloharp had slipped away to the side. 

It would probably be until the children were finished with school until she would ever wake up. If one would ever so focused tried to listen to the sound of silence, they might had heard ever so silent snoring coming from the cultured femme.

Fowler marched into the silo. Since it was still morning, it was quiet. Fowler saw Optimus staring sourly at the monitors. He raised his eyebrow in wonder. 

Did Megatron cause some type of unimaginable trouble or was it Ratchet? The sight of Optimus having a sour face was a sight to see. Usually the Prime would just be stoic and calm. 

Fowler took a deep breath before he approached Optimus. For some reason his legs felt rather heavy while approaching him. Was it because he had to sit in his office for far too many hours? No, that did not seem to be the reason. Was it how the Prime was acting? For some reason that didn’t seem to be the reason either. Then his mind went to the e-mail where Starstrike had reprimanded him. Something about the way she wrote of Optimus bothered him. It was as if she spoke of some king. 

The Prime was no secret king, right?

Fowler finally got as close to Optimus as much as the human area’s railing allowed him to. He gently crossed his arms and cleared his throat.

Fowler was about to go on his usual way of addressing Optimus but for some reason the thought of Starstrike made him go on a little differently.

“Good morning, Prime,” he scratched his nose a bit.

Optimus’ optics widened a bit and his sour faceplate neutrlized into his usual stoic one. He then turned to Fowler who was unusually calm today.

“Good morning, Agent Fowler. How may I be of assistance to you?” Optimus’ voice was polite and gentle yet it had undertones of dryness.

“It’s about the rainbow girl, Prime. It seems like she somehow managed to hack into our systems and create an human ID for herself and she sent me $100,000,” he wasn’t sure how to explain that. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Oh! Starstrike hacked into the systems of this country!? Just to send Agent Fowler $100,000?... OK!? Why didn’t Optimus feel that alerted from that? Why was it that he didn’t seem that impressed by what Starstrike has done? It felt like any other weekday despite the fact that a Cybertronian just caused a potential political safety risk. Somehow the way Starstrike did something so risky in her probable excitement did not feel new at all. Optimus subconsciously rolled his optics in annoyance. Why was it that this little bubble of light liked to attract trouble to herself. Yet again, Optimus subconsciously shook his helm to Starstrike’s rather rash but sometimes well-meaning actions.

Fowler was speechless from how Optimus reacted. Optimus wasn’t fazed at all and above all that was that he rolled his eyes AND shook his head! What was wrong with the Prime? Optimus did not feel like a leader but rather like a tired parent but he and that rainbow porcelain doll did claim that they did not have any prior relation to each other. 

Optimus himself wasn’t aware at that moment of the way he reacted to Fowler so he returned to his usual demeanor.

“Thank you Agent Fowler for informing me of this but may I know the scope of the supposed problem? Unfortunately we have yet to have properly explained our way of conduct here on Earth,”

Fowler felt like he shrank down a few sizes. “Uh actually the hacking isn’t the problem since nobody in Pentagon even knows. The hacking was my own deduction since y’know after knowing how Soundwave operates…Y’know what never mind,” he straitened up “ I-I’m just wondering if you happened to know where on Earth did she possibly get that $100,000?”

“Understood, Agent Fowler. Unfortunately I have not the farthest hints of where Little–Starstrike got that much of your currency,” his voice was rather dry but remained polite. 

Little Starstrike? Did Fowler just hear Optimus right? Starstrike definitely wasn’t of the smallest ends. For Fowler the fact that Starstrike was as tall as Ratchet and the wings making her even wider than Bulkhead made her much more than little. 

“Uhh, Prime. How is that rainbow girl small? She’s literally as big as the docbot?”

“Ugh! Fowler, don't call me that!” Ratchet spat from the medbay.

“Ok ok ok Ratchet. Sorry,” Fowler had his hands up. “Geez, why are ya so tense today? Did you two get up from the wrong side of the bed or something?” 

“Well we are at war, Fowler, if you happen to remember,” Ratchet gruffed tiredly.

“Perhaps it would be wisest for you to ask Starstrike herself where she got that sum of currency,” Optimus interjected.

Fowler blushed. Starstrike did say to contact her directly but-but y’know if Starstrike maybe told Optimus..Hehheh… 

“Oh yeah. She did say that in her e-mail,” Fowler muttered out loud.

“She did?” Optimus had no idea about that.

“She did, don’t ya–Never mind. You weren’t in your right mind back then–Just forget I said anything, Prime” 

“By the way, do you guys know where she is currently?”

“I would assume that she is in her ship, Fowler,” Optimus had returned his back to the monitors to decode and write reports.

Fowler was about to answer–.

“Mind I also add that she has yet to have awoken from her recharge” Optimus gently grumbled. 

Fowler looked to Ratchet wide eyed and had both of his arms pointing at Optimus. Ratchet stared back to him, his optics wide as well. He took a few glimpses at his old friend and leader. 

“When will she—” Fowler tried.

Optimus in a slightly frustrated tone. “No, I do not know, Fowler. It usually depends on what she had been previously doing before going into recharge. Sometimes she would recharge half a solarcycle just because she got caught up in a paradoxical nonsensibility within the research data of her own discovery and couldn’t calm down without complaining about it until pure exhaustion shut her down or if I could convince her to leave the matter at servo to later pondering,”

He looked at the clock and continued. “As of now I might assume that she won’t be waking up any soon unless she gets hungry,”

Ratchet was baffled. “And how would you know that, Optimus?!”

Optimus’ whole frame stiffened. Exactly, how did he even know that? Optimus’ optics dilated and he covered his faceplate with both of his servos and yawned.

He turned to Ratchet. “Lucky guess from how tired she was from yesterday?”

Ratchet crossed his arms and huffed as he looked unimpressed. 

“Yeah right! ‘A lucky guess’,” 

Fowler just decided to just give up and muttered to himself. 

“And you said you don’t know each other mimimiii,” 

“You may stay with us if you want to speak faceplate to faceplate with her. Of course we do understand you if you are too busy to wait but it seems that the currency transfer is something you really wish to discuss with her,” why was it that Optimus had a rather sarcastic tone in his voice. Fowler wasn’t sure how to act around a grumpy Optimus Prime.

“Optimus! Don’t bring me into this!” 

Ratchet grumbled under his breath.“You idiotic afthead, grr,”

Fowler checked his schedule. These were the rare days he actually wasn’t that busy at all. He sighed heavily. Oh fine. Why not?

“I’ll be in the office then,” Fowler gave up and went to his small office in the silo…

****

By the time Starstrike woke up from her recharge, the children had come back from school. In the Aurora Mist, Starstrike’s optics opened as pale yellow before returning to their usual pale sapphire and white gentle glow. Her lipplates stretched into a wide smile. Her optics were a bit blurry at first as she tried to process her surroundings. She blinked a few times. Hmm…Why was it so spacious here? Then her optics regained their clarity. Ohh..Now she remembered. She was talking away with her mighty grandancestor Onyx. She turned her helm around to see that her xyloharp had been pushed far away from her side. Figures. She shrugged. Starstrike then carefully sat up and stretched her arms and both pairs of wings. During the stretching she let out a playful stretchy snarl and shook her helm.

Oh let us check the time–My my was the time such. Hahahaahaa! Oh when was the last time she ever recharged so well? —-Ah! Yes…When everything hadn’t yet escalated into this tomfoolery of a war between two political entities. Starstrike’s faceplate fell away from her momentary bliss. Well, at least she could be with grandancestor Onyx from time to time. Starstrike’s finials tapped at the thought.

Hmm..Oh well. Maybe she would stay in her ship today for the rest of the day. Yesterday was such an emotionally challenging day that a nice calm day in front of a season of anime could suffice very well. After a few seasons of anime she could then read a datapad or two before returning to recharge. Yes, that would be most sufficient. —*DING* A message notification appeared in front of her HUD. It was from Miko.

Miko’s text:

Mistress Miko Nakadai: Strikiebun! Are ya awake yet?! We’re at the silo since school’s ended.

Oh well, that was that from that assumed calm afternoon but it was not a big deal. Yesterday she did not even get to spend time with the children and she did promise to hang out with mister Bulkhead once she was ready. Before she exited her ship, she checked her appearance just to make sure she was in a presentable condition.

In the silo, Starstrike walked as lightly as possible. She indeed hated the brittle flooring under her talons—

“Hi, sleepyhead!” Miko beamed from the human area and ran to her as near as the railing allowed.

Jack and Rafael followed along. Starstrike turned towards them and approached them. She put her faceplate against the railing. Miko hugged her smooth porcelain-like feeling faceplate and Rafael caressed it. Jack just tapped gently.

“Greetings Miko, Jack,” Starstrike lowered her gaze to Rafael. “Darling Tiny One,”

Her voice was soft and mellow. While Miko hugged her, she let out a short soft churtle and a purr which just caused Miko to rub her face against Starstrike’s faceplate even more.

Starstrike ruffled affectionately Rafael’s hair with the tip of her pinky digit. 

“Hahahaa! Stop it, Strikie. It tickles”

“Oh really now, hmm?” Starstrike’s voice became even sweeter and dewier.

“So did you have a good night’s sleep, Strikie?” Jack pondered.

“An excellent one, Jack. Your concern is appreciated. Thank you for asking,”

Miko did not want to let go of Starstrike but the fact Starstrike’s back was leaning towards as her helm was against the railing started to cause some strain since the two pairs of wings that she had were not of the lightest ends. Also, neither was the angle she was bent in  the most optimal for her back.

“Miko, I am afraid that you must consider letting go even though I enjoy the structural support you are giving me. My back is starting get strained due to the weight of my two pairs of wings,”

“The angle I am in particularly is most unoptimal. If I should to remain in this position for extended periods of time, I would be in backstabbing pain, Miko,”

“Aww man! Really, Strikiebun? I still wanna continue hugging ya though,” Miko twisted her lips.

“Indeed it is unfortunate but I shan’t act illogically towards my own frame,” her voice grew softer.

“Ok fine, OP 2.0,” Miko laughed. 

Starstrike’s finials and optical ridges shot up as her optics widened. Her lipplates twisted and her whole being went rock-still. She-she was NO Prime! The last time she checked, there was only one Matrix of Leadership in existence. Yes, she may speak with Onyx but that did not mean she WAS a Prime despite having Onyx’ CNA flowing in her cables. After a few dozen seconds, Starstrike took a step back.

Even though Cybertronians didn’t necessarily breath air but could detect smell with their olfactory sensors, Starstrike sounded breathless. 

“Miko, please adjourn from using such a title towards me. A Prime’s title is no jest to be made of,” unless you were an (Onyx) Prime.

“Uhh Strikie, ya might wanna repeat that? Didn’t quite get what ya jus’ said,” Miko scratched her arm with a strained smile.

Starstrike blinked and cocked her helm. She then turned her gaze to the side for a short moment. Starstrike also tried to calm down. She could not believe how lightly the children (Miko particularly) took Optimus’ title. From what Bumblebee had informed her, the three humans had been with the Autobots for quite some time. 

Why was it that the Autobots had not informed how significant the title Prime was?

Starstrike felt her tanks churning from the fact that even Special Agent William Fowler was under the same predicament as the children even though he had been working with them for far longer than the children. If Starstrike did not have the self control that she had, she might have fainted from such basic educational negligence.

Starstrike took a deep vent in an attempt to calm herself. She fisted and unfisted her servos and slightly aired out her bird-like wings before she spoke in somewhat ‘simpler terms’. Starstrike did her best to soften her piercing optics.

Starstrike’s voice was calm and elegant. “Please cease from ever calling me that wretched nickname, Miko,”

“Sorry, Strikie! I didn’t mean to offend you,” Miko frowned and drooped her head to her side.

Starstrike’s whole demeanor grew gentle and her optics warmed. She calmly came back closer to the children.

“All is well, Miko. Forgive me for I have too failed to take into consideration of your ignorance towards our culture,” her voice was warm.

But her voice became stern and slightly bitter as she quickly glanced towards the mingling Autobots.

“It is not your fault at all, Miko,”

Optimus and Ratchet who were ‘minding their own business’ felt a twist in their sparks upon hearing the last sentence from Starstrike but in some ways Optimus begged to differ with his Little One’s statement. Optimus did not want to be above anyone even during unofficial cycles. 

Starstrike was not sure whether or not she should feel offended or mild amusement from the fact that she could clearly see the Prime and doctor clearly eavesdropping on her conversation with the children. She did not even need to listen to the pair’s sparkbeats to confirm her suspicion of being spied on. How did they manage to still be alive with such bad acting? Well, if that was how the Autobots operated, it was no wonder why the Decepticons are on the seemingly winning side. Also, now it was a bit awkward to greet the Kindsparked Prime after what she just said. It wasn’t like she said anything directly. In addition, the glance was lightning fast so it was barely an optic twitch.

Ratchet didn’t notice the glance but Optimus did. For some reason he could almost read Starstrike like an open book. Every twitch and tonal change felt so natural to him. Optimus wasn’t sure either like at all why he could do that. At least this was some kind of evidence in addition to the vocal slip-up about her apparent recharge habits. Unfortunately those two things were not enough evidence to make anything official. What if it was someone else who just happened to act very similarly like that certain precious someone from deep within his spark. That precious someone whose designation he unfortunately could not conjure to remember.

Starstrike on the other servo could not just ignore the Kind Prime and not greet him. It would had been rude of her to ignore such a well-meaning though a bit clumsy person. Well, he was from her previous observations and the things Bumblebee told her during his late night talks with her. Now, how was she supposed to smoothly greet him after that sharp remark that the Prime clearly heard? It wasn’t like she wanted to admit the bitely said remark. She was not going to take it back. 

She meant it by every word. 

Perhaps it was best to just act as if nothing sharp was just said out of justified frustration towards historical facts and its weight on things. Indeed, ‘not a big deal at all’.

The children were observing their giant lilac and rainbow light retracting friend in wonder. Starstrike had completely gone lost in her thoughts as if forgetting her surroundings. After affirming to Miko that it wasn’t their fault, she had gone silent as she quickly observed Optimus and Ratchet. Her optics were staring at the floor while her jet-wings were flickering up and down. She also had her servo cupped under her chin. Even her optics dimmed under deep pondering. 

Jack also started to recall the things about how Starstrike reacted to the OP 2.0 name. It made him doubt the title Prime a little. Yes, he knew that Optimus was the leader but Strikie just made it sound like it was much more than that. Now that he thought about it, she had always had a certain way of addressing Optimus while talking with them. The way her voice became even more reverent, soft and gentle upon mentioning Optimus. Also, all the additional titles before even hearing the name Optimus or the word Prime. Actually had Starstrike even ever called Optimus ‘Optimus’? No, not ever in casual contexts and when she mentioned the name Optimus, it was after many different titles and was never without the word Prime.

Rafael on the other hand was observing Optimus and Starstrike at the same time. 

He could sense a kind of yearning from the Prime. The fact that every time Optimus sneaked glances at Starstrike, his optics would instantly soften and carry a deep warmth. Starstrike was simply really lost in thought. Starstrike’s reaction to Miko’s nickname was really surprising. He saw how hurt she was from the comparison.

Why was it that she called the nickname wretched? Why did she feel so bad when she was compared to the nicest and understanding person on Earth? 

She really was like Optimus. Kind and really caring. Also, it wasn’t like Starstrike didn’t like Optimus which was even more confusing. The way she looked and talked of him showed that she cared for Optimus. Every time she mentions the word ‘Prime’, she spoke of it sweetly. Well, after the confession thingy after Optimus knelt in front of her. The way she said the word ‘Prime’ oozed with gentle affection.

Miko wasn’t wondering much of Starstrike’s reaction. She grew up in Japan along with Japanese culture where titles were daily life. She just felt ashamed that she caused Starstrike to lose face because of her. She just thought that she was playfully complementing her Strikiebun. Maybe that was why Strikie liked anime.

After pondering for an awkwardly feeling while (for Starstrike), she had now officially decided to just pretend like nothing had happened. It was the best option so far. Unless one of the two would mention her sharp remark, she was not going to politely apologize for being ‘rude’.

Starstrike remained by the three standing children but turned her frame towards the Prime. She plastered her usual polite and elegant expression but once her and Optimus’ optic met both of their gazes softened and grew gentle. Even Optimus himself had his usual calm neutral expression on. Both Starstrike and Optimus had their usual expressions apart from their optics. Starstrike subconsciously very slowly blinked at the Prime. She had no idea that she actually did that.

Optimus’ voice oozed with warmth. “Hello, Starstrike. Have you rested well?”

Starstrike’s optical ridges ever so slightly raised and her golden angel wing-like finials momentarily flicked up before returning back to their usual station.

When she answered Optimus, she put her servo on her chassis. Specifically where her spark was.

“Greetings, Prime. Thank you for your concern. Indeed have I rested exceptionally well,” the same warmth was reciprocated when she said ‘Prime’. 

“That is great to hear, L-Starstrike. Have you refueled yourself yet?”

Starstrike wasn’t sure how to react to that. Had the Prime always been that caring towards his subordinates? Starstrike hurriedly snuck a questioning glance at the children to which the children shrugged with their hands lifted. Eyes wide they hurriedly also shook their heads. Asking for someone’s general wellbeing was one thing but to ask if they had filled their tanks yet required at least seven solarcycle’s worth of knowing one another. Besides…He wasn’t her sire or…Orion. Her tanks were 40% full anyway.

“Erm” Starstrike coughed to her fist “I… Have yet to refuel myself…” how awkward.

Starstrike’s finials fell down. Why did it matter to the Kind Prime whether or not she had refueled? Starstrike’s both pairs of wings started to fiddle with each other. 

Goodness! It wasn’t like she wasn’t going to refuel herself. Her right optic twitched.

Optimus nodded. “Then I’d advise you not to prolong it too long,”

Excuse her but how could the Prime know how much was in her tanks?! The urge to ‘hmph’ was strong. She-she could take care of herself, thank you very much!

Starstrike’s voice was a bit strained and stiff as if she was speaking through her dentae. “I-will take heed. Please, there is none to worry about, Prime,” she forced herself to remain polite.

Then loud small footsteps enter into the hall breaking the awkward focus between Optimus’ dismay and to Starstrike’s delight. Agent Fowler approached Starstrike and stopped beside the children by the railing. Fowler straightened his tie and cleared his throat.

“Well, hello there, ‘Stella Striker’,”

Starstrike turned to Fowler. She let out a polite and small amused laugh behind her servo that she placed momentarily in front of her intake. Her optics narrowed beastily as her servo still remained shielding her intake. Ah, the unprofessional fleshling.

—Perhaps the Prime was right. She shouldn’t prolong her refueling too much. 

She wouldn’t get any nutrients if she were to just tear the agent apart with her dentae anyway. Starstrike forced her faceplate back to her usual expression but her optics started to have hints of pale yellow showing from within her optics. She then lowered her servo away.

Fowler had faced many generals and politicians in his career yet Starstrike caused a deep involuntary intimidation in him. If he wasn’t once an army ranger, his legs would had started to shake and his bladder would fail him. The fact that that rainbow girl quietly laughed more with her narrowed eyes behind her hand raised his hairs in his body. And Megatron was supposed to be scary, he was taller than Prime yet this girl who was shorter than Optimus was more of a danger than Megatron. Dang it. It was always the short ones that were the scariest. Short? She was clearly bigger than the motorcycle and the scout!

Oh how delightful! Starstrike had the fleshling within her digits. Huzzah! So he is a coward after all. Hahahaaahahaa. Now now Strikie hold your claws. You better just get on with this and get the three cubes. Starstrike’s gaze was intense even though she had her polite mask on. She then cocked her helm with her expression remaining. So was he going to say anything or not? 

“Yes, greetings, Fowler,” her voice was polite but dry as sand.

Fowler gulped. Why was it that even the girl seemed to be in a bad mood?

“I just wanted to ask about where did you get $100,000 from?” his voice was a bit panicked.

Ah! Why was the small sum of currency such a big deal? Was it not a sufficient amount that she gave? Should it had been more?

“I merely converted a measly sum of 100 shanix into the United States of America’s dollars. No, I would never fathom to steal currency from others,” her voice remained dry. 

“ ‘A measly sum of 100 shanix’?! “ Ratchet was beyond himself. 

Starstrike stifled a growl. She was getting hangry.

She turned to Ratchet with a stoic and elegant yet strained expression.

“Excuse me my ignorance Good Doctor but I have failed to comprehend how my financial status and capabilities are of your concern? Would you like to explain yourself?” Starstrike’s voice became drier. 

Oh no, his Little One was in no good mood. The way her whole frame was stiff—No, it was the pale yellow hints in her optics. Optimus was not going to list all the little signs when he could see the main signs. Also the finials were stiffly drooping. Oh no, not again! He could see steam lightly emitting from her frame. Litt–Starstrike’s frame.

Also, Ratchet had better not say anything to her. He had to comm his old friend.

In the comms:

“Ratchet, you better not answer anything to her,”

“What!? Why not?” he grumbled.

“Are you trying to commit suicide?”

“No, Optimus! What are you talking about?”

“Well, if you value your life, then do not even try to argue with her!”

“Can’t you see that she is on the verge of tearing anyone who aggravates her while hungry?” Optimus continued.

“Well, how do you know that?”

“Well…I don’t know but just trust me. Her finials, optics AND her frame emitting steam are the signs,”

“Yes, but HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT THEY IMPLY HUNGER?”

“I-I-I just do, Ratchet! Now just give up before this escalates even further,”

“Ugh! FINE!”

End of the comm-call.

Ratchet just vented and turned away from Starstrike’s piercing gaze. Starstrike then in return turned back to Fowler. Hmph! Served him right!

“So, Agent Fowler, was the amount transferred not sufficient?” her voice was overly official.

“What!? You’d like to give more?”

“If you can provide me with a logical explanation, that is,”

Fowler pondered a bit. Nah, it wasn’t worth it. The original amount was already more than his monthly paycheck anyway.

“Uh, it’s fine…Lady Starstrike. I was just so surprised by your generosity,” Fowler wished he could just evaporate into thin air.

She was being generous? Starstrike could hardly even admit that she was. 

She merely gave a reasonable amount for doing extra work that was not exactly part of Fowler’s list of duties. In what Starstrike was researching, Fowler was only responsible to the Autobots in providing necessary resources.

While Starstrike and Fowler were still conversing about the money, Optimus hurried to their energon reserves to get a cube of energon for his dear Little One—Starstrike before she’d collapse again. Since Starstrike’s focus was fully on Fowler, she did not notice Optimus leaving them for a short moment.

Fowler then left the silo still slightly trembling. He was not paid enough for this.

Well, at least he got extra money from that girl which was rather fine but still he wasn’t paid enough for babysitting alien robots.

Starstrike checked her tank levels. She inwardly cringed. The tanks were alarmingly barely 20% full. Hmm… Maybe if she just ran as fast as possible from the front entrance of the silo to her ship, she could possibly make it. Well she had to if she didn’t want to yet again enter stasis-lock. Starstrike was about to bid her momentary farewells to the children—

“Starstrike, please have this,” Optimus reached his servo that was holding a cube of energon.

Starstrike stopped in her tracks and looked first into the Prime’s optics and then lowered them to the cube reached towards her. She was then going to politely refuse by saying that she was not short of her own reserves—

“Please I insist, L-Starstrike” Optimus had yet again his ‘puppydog eyes’ as Miko would had named them.

Okay, what was it with those pleading optics that just made her spark melt? Just like Orion! He used to do that thing with his gentle optics whenever he was out of logical explanations that would had convinced her to do something. Darn,were they effective on her and the promise of uninterrupted cuddles after that was a freaking good way to have her yield. Logically stupid but strategically (she really hated to admit it) genius. Although arguably, Orion’s cuddles were the best beside’s her makers’.

Starstrike reached out both of her servos towards the cube. Her expression was dry and tired. “Many words of gratitude, Prime,”

A pleased smile came upon Optimus. Starstrike just bashfully received the cube with both of her servos and she also awkwardly looked away as a reaction to the smile.

If Cybertronians could blush, Starstrike would had gone through 50 different shades of dark red. She then proceeded to open the cube’s cap with her slightly trembling servo. Why was the Kindsparked Prime still looking at her? Didn’t he have other things to do than to watch her drink the energon? Well, she was too tired and hungry to ask so whatever. At least she could have her two other cubes in private. 

Starstrike tried to elegantly take her first few sips before drowning the cube away but alas, her predacon CNA did not care about etiquettes while trying to survive from going into stasis-lock. So the result was that she dynamically bent her torso backwards so that she could suck the life giving fluid most optimally to her tanks as quickly as possible. In the process some energon came out from between her lipplates. Sometimes Starstrike wished that her sire’s CNA at least tried to fight for dominance against her carrier’s CNA during her formation within her carrier’s sparkchamber. Like look at her gulping down energon like an unsophisticated brute.

In addition, THIS WAS NOT EUKARIS where she wouldn’t be so embarrassed by her current position. 

The children were mesmerized from the sight. Miko was especially ecstatic. She just witnessed how Strikiebun just handled Fowler in real life. Yes she was a bit intimidated by the intense staring down and the beastly grins but overall the fact that Starstrike managed to talk ‘normally’ made her realize that they were fine and safe. It also seemed like Starstrike had also momentarily forgotten that she, Jack and Raf even existed at that moment. Starstrike was such a badass queen that even Ratchet shut up!

Jack had been observing this situation intently. Previously he had been chatting with Arcee about Starstrike. For some reason Arcee seemed to heavily dislike Starstrike.

When Jack told her about how he found Starstrike pretty nice, wasn’t convinced at all. He did ask what bothered her about Starstrike. Never had he thought that Arcee would bitterly accuse her of being a spoiled high caste brat. Apparently the way Starstrike acted and spoke was so pretentious and arrogant. Like Starstrike acted so high and mighty to everyone. Jack could not believe that Arcee really thought of Starstrike like that because she didn’t even spend that much time in the silo lately anyway. 

For Jack Starstrike did not seem like a spoiled brat at all. Yes, the $100,000 was a lot but somehow he could see from Starstrike’s eyes that she was not being arrogant at all. Despite her sour mood towards Fowler, her eyes portrayed sincerity. In addition, she had always addressed him and the others really respectfully and had not even acted as if she was any better than them. Opposingly she was rather curious and interested in the small mundane things of human life and culture. She would often ask about the silliest little human things she discovered from the internet in their groupchat. Like about why fart pillows were sold. Or what she actually called them was ‘artificial sound maker of organic gas from excess nutrients that was released from between the fleshy cheeks of an afterburner’. Jack snickered from the memory to himself. Also, the things that he just witnessed in front of him gave further proof of Arcee being wrong. It was funny how Starstrike’s whole body acted like a toddler by having both of her hands up to the cube while trying to act ‘professional’.

Starstrike finished the cube. She tried to resist the urge to brush the spilled energon from her cheekplates and chin with her servo instead of a napkin but she failed. 

She used the back of her servo to collect the energon before licking it away with her glossa. Her finials did a happy tippy-tappy movement. Now her tank was 45% full. 

She let out a deep vent of satisfaction, forgetting her surroundings for a moment. 

Meanwhile Optimus resisted his strong urge to just caress Starstrike’s helm.

The way she acted was purely adorable but it would had been inappropriate of him to do that. He did not want to startle his possible new friend who just not long ago started to warm up to him. 

One thing upon other things he wondered about Starstrike was of course why he even felt that Starstrike’s way of doing was adorable? Why did he feel such a strong urge to just lift her into his own embrace? Why did he feel such…What did Miko call it again? Ah yes, this ‘cuteness aggression’ towards a young femme who was around the same age group as Bumblebee. Yes, even Bee too was cute but it didn’t exactly make him want to give potent form of physical affection. Also, he respected Bee’s privacy and autonomy but with Starstrike…Why was it that he couldn’t care less of them with her? What was so wrong with him?! He wasn’t supposed to be thinking such intimate thoughts with Starstrike! Oh how shameful of him.

Starstrike’s momentary happiness got struck down when her frame ever so much as almost fully calmed by the silo’s harsh jammers that made her audials ache. She immediately came back to reality and put her left servo on her left audial. She cringed from the pain as her feathers mildly ruffled. A small minor gust of steam was let out of her frame due to the shock. Starstrike tried to recalibrate her sensors as soon and much as possible under the pain. A teeny tiny trickle of coolant was shed while she recalibrated herself. She really shouldn’t had lowered her guard even during small moments of bliss. Well, at least she was back to reality. 

Starstrike then straightened her composure. She then turned back to the children and Optimus. She took an elegant grip of the empty cube of energon from her previous (completely normal way to grip a cube shaped object) grip. Her expression was kind but slightly strained and tired due to the momentary shock caused ny the silo’s brutish jammers.

“Forgive me of my previous uncordial ways of conduct that you have just recently witnessed,” Starstrike’s helm turned to Optimus. “My humblest words of thanks, Prime. Your kindness shall be repaid in full,” 

“Oh, Starstrike. Please, you are flattering me. There is nothing to be paid back,” it was just one cube anyway.

Starstrike resisted her urge to roll her optics in sudden frustration. She did not want to ask the Prime if foolishness was coded in his processor. There was no possible way that their energon reserves were as abundant as hers. Also, she had noticed how much smaller their cubes were to her own in the Aurora Mist’s reserves. The least she could do in return was to return the favor of disrupting their reserves.

As she had already confirmed before reaching Earth, her reserves could still last quite a few vorns before she would be in need for more energon. Hence why she even chose Earth as the planet to reside in the first place. She did not need the Autobots.

“Even so, Prime. May I remind your memory banks that my own ship’s reserves are in no need of replenishments unlike yours,” she sighed.

Starstrike’s point made sense to Ratchet. They indeed were more or less tight on energon that was supposed to power the groundbridge and sustain themselves made every drop of energon really valuable. If Starstrike was able to nullify the fact that they now had one cube less energon, she sounded reasonable. But how big were her reserves to speak so confidently? Ratchet really wanted to ask Starstrike but he bit his glossa. For some reason it seemed like Starstrike was quite uncomfortable around him even though he hadn’t done or showed any signs that should cause her to be so wary of him. Not really.

Optimus was about to argument that her previous state was an emergency. 

For some reason Starstrike was as if she knew what he was going to say.

She sadly frowned with her optics pleadingly wide. “Please I beg of you, you have simply been far too kind to me. I plead of you, allow me to honor your sweet kindness with one of my own,” 

His sweet kindness!? Optimus was merely doing what anyone with a caring spark would had done. Oh, why was his Little One—Starstrike so adamant with reciprocating the favor? Oh but the way her pale sapphire white glowing optics looked at him. The pure desperation in them. Oh how it hurt his spark. Why was it that his kindness seemed like something so holy to her? He was just a normal Cybertronian in the end despite the fact that he carried the Matrix.

Starstrike did not believe herself. The way she was acting towards the Prime. Why was she so comfortable to act however her spark led her to? Why did she act in such a childish manner. The frown was not planned at all. Only the optics and the words were. She was not supposed to show how desperate she was for the Prime to accept her repayment. Why did she feel so comfortable to have urges of rolling optics or give dramatic sighs of frustration towards him. The Prime merely acted and looked similar to her darling Little Archivist, that was all. She must not confuse the two. Unfortunately the height difference of her and him being around the same ratio as back in Iacon did not help at all.

Optimus gave up. His voice hinted with somber. “Very well then, Starstrike,”

Starstrike’s faceplate lit up. Her optics softened with a ghost of hint of a pleased smile. 

“Then I shall return to my ship and retrieve my repayment back to your care. Please do excuse me then,”

She then did a short curtsy before exiting the silo. Before fully going on her way, she turned to the children. 

“We shall soon return to each other. Of course if any offer of inquiry come to your minds at any moment, do not hesitate to take contact via our communication codes,”

The children just nodded and went to the sofa when Starstrike had fully exited from the silo.

“Y’know, OP. If ya haven’t noticed, you and Strikie are like carbon copies of each other. You sure you’re not just acting as y’guys dunno each other?” Miko quipped.

Optimus’ faceplate became somber as he silently muttered mostly to himself.

“I am beginning to doubt it myself,” he then looked at Miko “Sometimes some people might just share many qualities as myself,”

Meanwhile in the human area, Miko was frantically texting to Starstrike about Optimus. She felt that Starstrike’s calm and logical answers and reassuring words were the only thing to calm her down. Rafael was silently crying and Jack tried to comfort him despite being worried of Optimus. Jack then looked to Miko who was still texting.

“Who are you texting now?” Jack asked.

“Optimus 2.0! Of course,”

Jack went speechless. His eyes were wide as he furrowed his brows. Even Raf stopped crying.

“O-optimus 2-2.0?” Raf repeated.

“AKA Strikiebun. Duh!” 

“How is Starstrike like Optimus?” Jack wondered, still trying to connect the dots.

“She literally speaks like OP but fancier. You saw the e-mails and y’know the way she texts to us,”

Jack and Rafael rechecked their phones. They reread the texts and language that Starstrike used.

Miko facepalmed. “Ya guys can’t be serious,”

“Well for me her way to speak and write just looked really advanced and come on Miko. Admit that you also have to sometimes google a few words just fully understand what she says,” Jack argued.

“Eh” Miko shrugged. “Not really. I just go with the vibes, Jack”

“Seriously?” Jack deadpanned.

“Well no wonder why Strikie’s way of speaking felt so familiar,” Raf commented while looking at his phone. “The words she speaks or write carry a certain type of warmth within them,”

“Uhm. Miko, has Strikie answered you yet?” Raf asked, his voice soft as he wiped his tears away with his sleeve.

“Or better yet. Have you even given her the chance to reply?” Jack added.

Miko stopped a little. Her eyes widened as her body went stiff for a little while. Then a mild blush appeared on her face as she calmed down. She then geve a lopsided smile and put her phone down. 

“Oops hehehe,”

“I should propably give her the chance to answer,” 

Fowler on the other hand was trying to understand the situation. He saw how the children were acting, and to be fair, even he was surprised by how Optimus almost hit his head unto the floor. He then went back to the e-mails. After reading them again, he gave up. Starstrike’s latest e-mail actually hit the spot. Of course this was simply damage control when he really thought about it. Fowler gave up and exited the silo back to his office so that he could figure an answer to Starstrike. In addition, he really didn’t want to explain to General Bryce why he couldn’t handle basic damage control.

Back in Starstrike’s ship, Starstrike was still preening her feathers. She had just finished with her right wing. Then suddenly she got flooded by Miko’s messages that really described the whole situation in the silo. Miko’s worry and panic really oozed from the texts. Upon reading Miko’s texts, she couldn’t help but worry for the Prime despite only knowing him for just a few days. When Starstrike read the flooding texts, her optics instinctively starsted to shed a new set of coolant tears. 

Starstrike then blinked. Oh why? Why was she crying for a mech she barely knew? Then after a few minutes Miko stopped texting which left time for Starstrike to properly read the sent messages to her. Apparently the latest e-mail did its job. On the other servo, the Prime…Did her frame’s shutdown really frighten him? Well it wasn’t like she wanted it to happen. Starstrike could still recal the Prime’s panic during the escorting before her frame went into stasis-lock. 

Why? Why did the Prime care for her so compassionately?! Like as if they knew each other for far longer. Compassion was one thing but to worry so much that one stops properly functioning was another! Okay. She had to calm down. Deep vents in, deep vents out. Since she had thoroughly analysed Miko’s texts, she had to write back to her. Well to the groupchat since Miko didn’t change to the private contacts. In a way it was a good thing. She could also try to reassure the other two at the same time. One thing bothered her though. The fact that the Prime caressed one of the holes she had caused to the floor. HE CARESSED IT. No! She had to focus. Her new small friends had to be relieved out of excess worry. 

Starstrike’s answer in the groupchat:

Starstrike: My dear friends, 

Cast your excess worries away. If the Chief Medical Officer was able to intercede before anything worse had happened, for now at least, the kind-sparked Prime will be stabilised. You mentioned that the Compassionate Prime was sad? Why? Worry I do understand. For verily I did collapse in front of him but sadness I do not comprehend. 

Back in the silo the children were staring wide eyed at their phones. 

“Oof. She's worried real bad, “ Miko commented. 

“Well, you did do quite a vivid description of the events, “ Jack replied. 

“But it was true! I didn't exaggerate,”

Jack and Rafael couldn't help but agree with Miko. It was indeed scary. 

“I hope she wasn't too scared by the things that happened, “ Rafael spoke. 

“Maybe we should visit her ship. It's literally in the silo's backyard,” Miko suggested. 

“Miko! If Wheeljack's Jackhammer was huge to us, then how massive Strikie's ship is. Bee told me that even Optimus looked small compared to the ship,” Raf warned. 

“Yeah Miko. What if we accidentally squished under the platform just because we misjudged the range, “ Jack added. 

“Yeah but what if we just tell her before we exit the silo? “ Miko argued. 

“I mean the ship’s basically her house so we could just ask her if we could come over. If it’s fine with her, she most likely would lower the platform before we even get there,” 

“Oh yeah. That actually makes sense. Yeah,” Jack admitted.

“So who’s gonna ask her?” Raf asked.

“I can since it was my idea anyway, Raf” Miko beamed.

In the groupchat: 

Miko: Strikie! Can we come over to your ship? We wanna see how different it’s compared to Jackie’s Jackhammer!

Starstrike: My apologies dear friends. At the moment I am going under personal maintenance where I have to recalibrate many different things. Unfortunately this process will take many cycles—or hours in your time units.

You could visit my ship the Aurora Mist on an another occasion, perhaps. 

Jack: It’s fine, Strikie. We were just worried for ya. The way Miko described the scene was quite graphic.

Miko: Hey! It was true BTW!

Starstrike: I understand that what had happened must have frightened you all. Although I doubt that his system failure was too bad. Perhaps for some reason the Prime failed to notice that he needed to have his systems rebooted after whatever that caused the immense strain. System failures are sometimes alerting but usually they are a sign of overworking of any type.

Raf: Yeah that’s true but he also looked sad though.

Starstrike: Perhaps it was both mental and physical strain then. 

Miko: Do you think Optimus will be alright? 

Starstrike: You have to ask the Chief Medical Officer himself to know that. I merely listed common reasons and possibilities. And judging from how you described the way the CMO acted, it could be worse but I do not dare to make any guesses. 

Raf: Strikie, you said that you're doing personal maintenance. What are you like actually doing that could be called personal maintenance? 

Starstrike: Well… In actuality the personal maintenance entails that I am doing what you humans would call self-care or a personal spa day. What I am currently doing as I am chatting with you is preening my feathers. Yes, the same preening as the birds here on your planet. Then I will be recalibrating my systems making sure everything is functioning. 

Miko: So you’re having a spa day!? That’s so awesome! Invite us next time! Imma prepare all the cucumbers and face masks!

Starstrike: Cucumbers? About them. During my time doing research I found out that you like to put them on your optics–eyes. There was something about certain minerals that would help your protoforms—Please excuse me your skin yet you also have those same minerals in potent forms that you can ingest. Would you care to explain this to me?

Starstrike: I would like to also clarify that I am curious about your ways yet also I am trying to not think too much about the preening. It is the least of things that I enjoy doing currently.

Raf: The cucumbers on our eyes are just a calming sensation that lowers irritation. Also, they are just fun.

Starstrike: Ah so just like my sire enjoying the usage of amusing looking buffer heads. He always explained the shapes to bring some color to a dull work solar cycle. Erm I meant to say a weekday.

Jack: Sire? Is that like a mom or dad?

Starstrike: The most accurate translation would be father but he was more than a father to me. He was according to our emotional bond more akin to the wide term you say ‘daddy’ (in the purest and innocent contexts since this term has been unfortunately been corrupted into a more vile meaning according to my research of the internet).

In the Aurora Mist, Starstrike stopped everything she was doing for a moment. Oh no! She just revealed more than she intended to the children. She didn’t mean to reveal that much of her sire. She blinked with her frame stiff. Yes. It was true that she was now friends with the children but that did not simply mean that she could just reveal something so intimate of her sire! Oh well the damage had been now done. Deleting the text would arouse even more suspicion. 

“Sire..If you ever so are witnessing this, please be sure to know that I…Did not mean to tell them about you so soon,” she whispered into nothingness her helm casted down.

“Oh what am I taking my efforts to achieve? Could he even hear me from the Allspark?” she huffed bitterly.

Starstrike continued to so she could finally finish preening her left wing and move on. One thing was different though. She had now forgotten the groupchat.

In the silo Starstrike’s eerie silence could be felt by the sudden long pause after the revealing text about her sire. Miko and Raf especially felt that something was wrong. In addition, the group chat showed that she became offline within it. Jack, Miko and Rafael looked at each other. The way Starstrike went offline in the chat was so abrupt. 

“Why do I feel like she just said something she didn't mean to?” Jack wondered. 

“Strange. I mean she just told us something funny about her dad, “ Miko pondered. 

“Maybe that's what she didn't mean to tell us, “ Rafael mumbled. 

“Why would that be the reason for her abrupt silence? “ Miko quipped. 

“Did you guys notice how she talked about her dad? It was always in the past tense,” Rafael explained. 

“Yes?“ Miko still didn't get it. 

“Miko, do you remember what it means in English grammar if the person constantly uses the past tense of someone when speaking of them?” Jack tried to clarify. 

“Constantly in past tense… Oh,” she realized. 

Jack and Rafael nodded solemnly. Now even Miko had become silent. The one to break the solemn was Ratchet who tiredly walked to the main hall. The children ran to him once they noticed him. 

“Ratchet! How's Optimus?!” they all asked with varied tones of worry. 

Ratchet rubbed the between of his optical ridges, a gesture learnt from the humans. “At least he is recharging peacefully…Or so I hope, “ he half mumbled. 

“Phew! Strikiebun was right at least that OP's gonna be OK, “

“What?! Strikie never said that!” Jack interjected. 

“She just said that system overload wasn't uncommon. She never mentioned that it wasn't a bad thing, “ he corrected. 

“Yeah Miko. Strikie also stated by herself that she only listed common reasons. She only explained that we didn't have to get scared from what we witnessed by explaining what was that we saw happening. She also told us to ask Ratchet. Remember? “ Rafael supported.

“But it was quite comforting, alright,“ Miko huffed. 

Ratchet's optics widened and his optical ridges went slightly upwards when the children mentioned Starstrike. They have been talking with her? Hmm. So that meant that she had awoken from the stasis-lock. No further but she even managed to somehow calm the children down. Or so it seemed. For some reason they were somewhat still tense.  

“You talked with Starstrike? How is she? “ he asked in an unlikely gentle tone. 

“Well she managed to calm us down by explaining what we saw happening. We then talked about what she was doing. Personal maintenance if I remember right,” Jack explained. 

“Ooh! And before that, she sent Fowler a sick e-mail that shut him up!” Miko interjected. 

“But?” Ratchet lead. 

“Well now she has suddenly become offline,” Jack concluded. 

Ratchet staggered. She became offline?! 

“She committed suicide?!” Ratchet let out. 

“Nonono Ratchet! She became inactive in the group chat. She’s not dead!” Rafael hurriedly corrected. 

“Sorry Ratch. We forgot what ‘offline’ meant for you guys, “ Jack became bashful. 

Ratchet let out an irritated huff. “It's fine. As you've seen, things have been stressful,” he stretched “At least she has been talking with you and I shouldn't be too worried if she is able to recalibrate herself. Or at least I hope so, “

Ratchet looked at the children. “Why do you still look worried?”

“Well, the thing is that she went inactive in the group chat so suddenly as if she revealed too much or something like that,” Rafael answered. 

“Which is weird because she just talked about how nice her dad was,” Miko added. 

Ratchet only let out a deep vent. 

“Let's hope that things don't get worse,” he whispered to himself. 

Three days later. 

After the day Optimus collapsed, Bumblebee had been texting and even comm-called Starstrike late in the evening. Rafael had been talking about how Starstrike had been during the group chatting and how she abruptly became offline within the chat. To Bumblebee’s personal petty irritation, his time of showing off his collection of Earth things had unexpectedly been postponed for far too long. 

Of course nothing really couldn't had been done to avoid the events. Well at least she had been answering his texts and they'd been able to talk through the comms. Well, usually he was the one to talk and she mostly listened and commented on some things. Why was he the one to talk mostly? That was because he could finally complain about things that Cybertronians of his age would understand. Besides, she didn't try to give wisdom like Optimus would. 

Through the comms:

“[Hey Strikie, why's that you don't try to give me any type of advice like Optimus?]” he wondered. 

“Would you have wanted to? Upon the way you complained about the Prime's well meant wisdom, I found it illogical to try and ‘offer assistance'. I found that my most logical way to give assistance was to simply lend my audials to you. Sometimes the greatest wisdom one could offer is silence, “ Starstrike explained. 

“[Wow! You really are OP 2.0! Miko was right]”

“Pardon me? I am no Prime Bee, “

“Despite my heritage,” she mumblingly whispered. 

“[But you just sounded like him. Imma have you argue with him for me for sure,]”

“My my, Bee. Without any payment?” her voice was like satin. 

“[Payment?! Um… Would showing you around Jasper be OK? I have no shanix,]”

“Oh Little bumblee, I was merely jesting. I require not any payment. It would be an interesting experience in itself to lend my skillsets of logical argumenting to you,”

“[Y'know I'm bigger than ‘Cee, right?]”

“Surely but the resemblance between you and the Earth insect genius. You and the insect move in the same manner. In addition, I find those tiny furry things adorable. The way they buzz and fly without any hint of worry is calming to see from videos of this intertwined network of the humans. Simply splendid, “

“[Ya think I’m…cute?]” Bumblebee couldn’t believe his audials. 

“Erm...Verily…Yes…indeed…” her voice grew slightly hesitant.

Since Bumblee was in his room and sitting on his berth, he was swinging his pedes back and forth from the edge of the berth. His doorwings were flapping lightly. Starstrike called him cute! Primus! She called him cute! Wait did that mean that he could also use his charms against her like against OP?!

“Are you perhaps offended, Little bumblebee? Please do pardon me if I have caused you offense,” she asked from the comms.

Bumblebee blinked and came back to reality and replied. “[Why would I be offended, Strikie? I’m not offended]”

Starstrike vented in polite relief. “I am glad, Bee,”

In the Aurora Mist’s berthroom, Starstrike was back on her makers’ berth but now she had her blanket from her own berth. She had the blanket wrapped around herself while she was hugging her sire’s berth helmsupport. The Praxus’ Saint’s scent was still surprisingly strong. As if it was from the Dreakha Tower’s berthroom.

She was relieved that her show of sudden affection, which even startled herself a little, did not cause any emotional disturbance to Bumblebee. Actually, ever since Bumblebee had comm-called her, she had been huddled in her blanket. Starstrike was gently smiling and her optics were soft while speaking with him.

“[So uhh, Raf told me about the group chat. Can I join too?]”

“Yes you may, Bee. Indulging in conversation with you has been a truly pleasant experience. I truly have been enjoying spending time with you. I shall forward you the link. A short moment please if you do not mind. The link will be in your holding shortly” Starstrike replied ever so gracefully.

Bumblebee then resumed to talking about this and that and complaining about Optimus. Starstrike listened. It was also quite late in the evening. It was 0:38. 

Both of them should had been gone to recharge but hadn’t gone yet. By the second day Optimus had awoken from that system overdrive. Thankfully the Matrix had left him be so that Optimus could recover. Another memory transfer would have been quite fatal. Since it was late in the night really, Optimus was naturally awake and to Ratchet’s dismay. Old habits die hard, asthey say. He was walking past Bumblebee’s room and to his surprise Bumblebee wasn’t under recharge but beeping in low voices rather actively.

Optimus felt some sort of suspicion that prompted him to eavesdrop before reminding him about how growing younglings still needed rest.

….”[And you know what, Strikie? He started to lecture….It was so annoying]” ….”[Optimus is such a worrywart sometimes….I’m a soldier too…Not a sparkling…]”

Bumblebee was complaining quite passionately about him. Who was Bee talking to? It couldn’t be Rafael since it was so late and a weekday. Oh well, Bee had to recharge. Optimus then knocked on Bee’s door before entering. Bee usually didn’t lock his room’s door.

“Bumblebee, you should not be up at this time despite that we are at war—”

“[Gah! O-optimus! I uhm. When did ya come in?]” Bumblebee was in the middle of telling about an adventure with Bulkhead and Miko tagging along.

“Just now, Bee,” Optimus’ optics grew gentler “It’s already late in the night,”

Bumblebee and Starstrike, in her ship, hurriedly checked their chronometers. 

Starstrike gasped through the comms. “Oh my! I was so immersed by your stories and encounters that I have failed to inspect the time. It has been exponentially entertaining to have spent time with you, Bee,”

“[Shoot. I absolutely forgot to check the time]” Bee realized. 

“It’s fine, Bee. Who were you talking to so passionately? Do not even try to say Rafael, I know that he should be and most likely is sleeping. Miko and Jack are also out of question. You were talking out loud,” Optimus pressured.

In the Aurora Mist’s berthroom, Starstrike grew stiff when she heard the Prime from the comms. Bumblebee didn’t put on the comms to speaker mode but Starstrike just had good hearing despite having tuned her hearing range to normal hearing ranges. Memories of Orion Pax suddenly flooded in front of her HUD and she closed her optics because of them.  

It was late in the evening in the Iacon Archives. Starstrike’s sire had his meeting unfortunately extended. Because of it, he had already informed both Orion and Starstrike of it. The carrier was also in Eukaris for some type of business too so the third safest option was for little Starstrike to spend her time with the Kind Little Archivist as Starstrike had called Orion to the sire. There was nothing to worry though.Of course Orion was unaware of the title ‘little’.

The sire had already sent enough money to Orion for any additional costs that came from taking care of an adventurous and curious sparkling. In other words, Orion didn’t need to pay out of his own pocket. So now the sparkling who was ⅔  of Orion’s height spent the late evening among piles upon piles of datapads. She was so immersed in one of the datapads that she didn’t even hear when Orion approached her. She only felt the steps vibrating from the floor since she was on her stomach. She wasn’t startled but she also didn’t care. The story she was reading was simply too entertaining. 

“Little One, Starstrike, it’s quite late now. Perhaps we should have you rest a little before your sire returns,” Orion gently spoke as he caressed the stump of Starstrike’s wings when he crouched down earning a trill from her by it.

“But Orion, the story is exponentially entertaining and immersive. May I read two more chapters? Yes I know that I have already borrowed this datapd, but even so, the main character has just now entered a critical point in the story. So please may I read at least a few more chapters?” she whined. 

That earned a lopsided smile and risen optic ridges from Orion. “Oh dear, two more chapters and not pages. My my, Little One,”

“But you are still growing, and even those Praxian processors need rest. I can already see both your wings and golden angel wing-like finials already drooping. Surely you can continue tomorrow, Little One,” 

Orion’s remark earned him a mix of grumbling and purring from the four winged ‘small’ sparkling. 

“Ugh! Fiiineee. Your logic makes sense, I yield,” Starstrike turned down the datapad and sat up lifting her arms. She then looked at Orion with pleading optics as her gentle white glow ever so slightly increased. She then let out the most adorable chirp.

Orion’s faceplate grew even softer. He then lifted Starstrike into his embrace and carried her to his workdesk so that he could continue his archive reports while she cuddled him…

In the ship, Starstrike did her best to stifle any sniffs or utterings from escaping her. The comms were still open. But since no one was actually witnessing anything with their optics, she let her tears escape her optics as her frame ever so lightly trembled beneath the blanket. The only difference was that her bird-like wings were also embracing her.

In the silo and Bee’s room, Bee is trying to conjure coherent sentences in his processor. In the Aurora Mist, Starstrike was doing her best not to reveal anything about her compromised state. She took deep and slow vents and exvents. She ground her fanged dentae and shut her optics tighter. She had to stay calm. Conceal and don’t feel, she must not let them know. She didn’t want to worry and startle Bee. She must remain in control. She was a warrior! She must stay strong until the call would end. Suddenly disappearing would not only be rude but also her curiosity was strong. Also, Bumblebee was now her friend, abandoning him now would had made her a bad friend.

In Bee’s room Bee then gave up on coherency and just told a somewhat partial truth.

“[It’s Strikie, Optimus. I decided to talk to her after what the kids told me and also since I was worried and needed someone who would actually listen,]”

Optimus stopped in his tracks. He somewhat deduced it to be her who Bee talked to but to have it actually confirmed was another thing. He blinked as his stature slightly fell down. His optical ridges fell down. A somber look overtook his usually calm and neutral faceplate.

“I see,” a mere whisper yet so loud at the same time. Bumblebee had been in contact with his Little One—no, Starstrike all along while he was unconscious.

Optimus had by now forgotten that Bee’s comm was still open. To be fair, Bee also was unaware that Starstrike could hear Optimus through the comms. He only thought that only him calling Optimus when he got surprised was the only indication for her to know of Optimus’ presence in his room. Optimus approached Bee and sat down besides him on his berth. He put his hand on Bee’s shoulderplate and looked straight into his optics. 

“I am sorry, Bumblebee. I have failed to realize that you needed someone who listened and not any advice,” 

In the Aurora Mist, Starstrike’s voicebox ached. She couldn’t reveal herself now. Not only was her voicebox clogged but it hurt her spark even more. It was like someone was stabbing her sparkchamber and prolonged its strike by twisting and turning the blade or whatever within her sparkchamber. Tears flooded uncontrollably as she was holding her chassis. Her frame was laying on the berth squirming as quietly as she could manage clutching her chassis as if she had a stomachache. She had to focus! But on whom?! Her makers were dead. Even Orion was most likely, well he was. 

Oh on whom could she focus on? Think Strikie thinks! Only person wasn’t really ‘dead’ was…Great Ancestor Onyx! Starstrike focused her thoughts on Onyx Prime. “Great-great-great-grandsire Onyx! Please lend me your strength and  forgive me for not regarding you for so long!” she thought in her mind. A whimper escaped her.

For a moment there was no relief but then from far and deep within her spark emerged a comforting warmth. Her sparkchamber did not hurt anymore but the tears continued to flow out. Her frame had stopped squirming and twitching. Starstrike’s faceplate became blank yet the tears continued to flood her surroundings. She had become completely still as her spark beated stably. Why was she even alive at this point? She vented quietly since despite everything that happened she still remembered the comm-line being still open. “Thank you Great Ancestor Onyx,” she thought. She closed her optics and a faint ghost of upturned lipplates visited her faceplate.

In the silo during Starstrike’s suffering happened something else. 

“[I forgive you, Optimus. I probably should have also just said that I needed you to listen. Strikie said that you meant well anyway]” 

“Sounds like our new arrival might be wiser than she looks,” Optimus stated relief in his voice.

Bumblebee suddenly stiffened when he heard Starstrike’s whimpering through the comms. He had momentarily forgotten that it was still open. Then suddenly he heard stifled coughs and seemingly light heaves. But then silence and steady vents could be heard.

“[Strikie? Are you alright?]” he asked. Bee had put the comms to speaker mode just in case. 

Starstrike noticed the change on her HUD.

“I am… well, Bee. Late greetings Prime,” her voice was stable, smooth and polite when she greeted Optimus.

“Hello L–Starstrike,” Optimus’ voice was gentle. 

“Apologies Prime that we forgot to be aware of the current time. We should have taken better care in observing our chronometers,” she apologised.

“All is  well…Starstrike. You simply got a little carried away,”

“Well then, I shall bid the two of you a restful recharge then. It was delightfull to spend time with you, Little bumblebee,”

Optimus didn’t know why but his spark yearned for her. To see her.

“Wait!” his voice hinted desperation.

“What is the matter, Prime?” her voice was ever so slightly hesitant.

“May we meet at whenever you’ve awoken today?”

“...If that is what you wish Prime, then I shall oblige,”

“We shall meet soon then. Sweet dreams,...Starstrike,” Optimus was relieved yet worried at the same time. 

“.....” Starstrike’s heavy vents could be heard from the comm. “ —To you too, Prime,” her voice was at end surprisingly soft and mellow when she said ‘Prime’.

Starstrike then ended the comm-line. Silence filled Bee’s room and Optimus’ spark seemed to yearn even more. He couldn’t wait for some reason–

“[Y’know ya should also get recharge, right. I didn’t collapse from system overdrive,]” Bee buzzed dryly.

“Well…I simply have much to do, Bee. As the Prime I need—”

“[Stop it, Optimus. At least stay with me since you’re already sitting next to me on my berth. Besides, I am…in need for someone to give structural support as I recalibrate my sensors around my frame–specifically around my chassis, helm and arms or that’s how Strikie described a hug,]”

A small and warm chuckle escaped Optimus’ voicebox. A voice Bee rarely heard. It kind of surprised Bee to hear such a warm and relaxed voice come from the Prime.

Even Optimus was surprised by himself. Why was that way of describing what a hug meant warmed his spark?

“Sure, Bee. We can hug each other,” Optimus’ optics grew even gentler. 

Bee then scooted closer to Optimus and then cuddled him letting out gentle satisfied trills and beeps. The beeps had always comforted Optimus but this time they not only brought comfort but an abnormal aching within him that resulted to cause him to shed a few tears of coolant. Optimus lifted Bee unto his lap and hugged him as he let out a gentle rumbling to Bee’s surprise. Of course Bee didn’t dislike it, it was just after such a long time since the last time Optimus hugged him like that. The last time he sat on Optimus’ lap was when he had a nightmare in the Ark when he was nearing younglinghood. Optimus felt confusion why his spark ached from the beeps that used to bring him only comfort. He also blinked the tears away.

In the Aurora Mist as the comm-call ended, Starstrike crumbled. She let out a shrieking weep. She cried her whole spark away. She hit her fists on the berth shaking and wailing. It wasn’t ORION! WELL AT LEAST BUMBLEBEE HAD SOMEONE TO TURN TO WHEN THEY NEEDED SUPPORT! THIS WAS SO UNFAIR! She screamed and wailed until she collapsed into recharge from exhaustion.

In Bee’s room just before both Optimus and Bee fell into recharge, Bee said something that caught Optimus’ attention.

“[Raf told me that Starstrike became really worried when Miko told her about the system overdrive but despite all that managed to calm them down. She speaks funny but is actually really kind]”

She was? Starstrike was worried of him?....

Later in the afternoon, Starstrike was standing in front of Aurora Mist’s exit. 

Yes, she had now awoken from her recharge. She was relieved that the Prime had somewhat recovered from the overdrive. For some reason deep within her spark she felt an extreme need to see how the Prime was faring but after what happened last night didn’t really make her want to exit her ship. On one servo she wanted to properly thank the Prime for his kindness but on the other servo she felt responsible for most likely causing the Prime sadness and worry. She curled her talons inwards. 

Starstrike bit her lipplates. Okay maybe she could just pretend that she was still asleep. The Prime did say that they’d meet whenever she had woken up. Starstike walked to the ship’s controllers. But no, he also did say that they’d meet today and not the other day. Starstrike walked back to the exit.

Also, her sire would have been disappointed if she were to act in such a cowardly way. Her carrier might’ve snarled at her illogical cowardice. 

In addition, it wasn’t like she had never talked to a Prime before. Great Ancestor Onyx. She had also talked to Optimus before. Like when they first met in Khangai Mountains and last night and before she collapsed into stasis-lock. The current bearer of the Matrix had so far been nothing but kind to her. It would truly be disrespectful to dilly-dally here in her ship. Speaking of Onyx, she really ought to visit his presence as she had so many times mentioned. 

“Great-great-great-grandsire Onyx is also waiting for me. I can sense it. But I feel unworthy of his presence. I have neglected my deep meditations that would have me reach his presence,” she whispered to herself. 

Suddenly Starstrike received an e-mail from Agent Fowler, that of which she read immediately. Fowler had finally told what she wanted to know and also apologized for not asking for more clarity from her. Well now she had another excuse to get out of the Aurora Mist. She had to inspect how deep the holes she made were so that she could order the correct amount of cement. Alright then! She was now ready to get out. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to express her gratitude to the Prime anyway. She had been waiting for the Prime to recover too.

Starstrike exited her ship with a determined state of mind. She took a deep vent and and schooled her faceplate into her usual calm and polite smile.

In the silo’s main hall, Optimus was eagerly waiting to meet his Little One—no no no! Starstrike! Oh Primus help him! He had get it together. Her name was Starstrike! Ratchet was also nearby him filling his own medical reports. Bee was in the sparring room. Arcee was on patrol. The children were in the human area trying to do their homework. Emphasis on trying since Miko was really struggling with history since she found American history like dry tofu unlike Japan’s.

Starstrike stepped out of the lift deep within her thoughts that she forgot to inspect her surroundings. She was so much in her thoughts that she failed to notice the holes she caused on the floor. She approach—

“Gah!” she flailed her arms and bird-like wings around. Her talons had stepped into the holes mid step. Unfortunately her center of balance had shifted due to two pairs of wings on her back making it impossible for her to regain her stance. Starstrike immediately gave up and prepared herself for having her faceplate hit the floor. She’d gone through worse so this was no big deal. 

The hit never came. Bulkhead managed to come to her rescue. “Gotcha, Princess,”

Bulkhead had heard Starstrike as he was walking to the main hall and he was also near enough to go help her. To Bulkhead’s inner surprise, Starstrike weighed almost as much as himself. He then helped her back to her pedes.

“My grateful thanks, Mister Bulkhead,” her optics were gentle and voice sweet. Strangely enough, Starstrike looked straight into Bulkhead’s optics.

Bulkhead rubbed behind his helm and laughed a bit bashfully. Miko maybe was right.

“Oh uhh..No problem. Just doin’ what should’ve been done,” Bulkhead replied. 

“And I truly appreciated it,” Starstrike curtsied once she got out of the holes. 

“Miko has told me great things about you,” her smile softened from her usual polite one.

The children stayed silent and just observed. The homework was completely for now forgotten. Bulkhead then realised that this was his chance to talk to Starstrike just like he had planned!

“So uhh…Miko has also said that you’re quite nice too..So uh you wanna hang out and talk with me?”

Starstrike’s optics widened and her smile ghostly inched ever so slightly wider. 

Her lower pair of jet-wings twitched. Even her finials did a happy tippy tap motion.

Starstrike did not expect such an invitation. It warmed her spark and even reminded her of a certain other blue and bulky mech. She tried to remain composed but she just couldn’t help her wings and finials.

“I would be delighted to spend time in your presence but” Starstrike fidgeted with as her gaze went to the floor but her smile remained. “I still have unfinished duties left unsolved at the moment but nevertheless would perhaps after I have completed them suffice with you?” her voice was surprisingly light.

“Sure thing, Strikie! Call me when ya ready,”

Starstrike’s smile brightened. “Indeed I will, Mister Bulkhead,”

“Oh just call me Bulk, Strikie! No need to be so formal,” Bulkhead laughed heartily.

Starstrike froze but her smile remained. Oh come on! Yet another nickname calling before readily knowing one another!? Oh this is pure sacrilage! Just like Orion! Someone older than her demanding to not show them respect!

“Very well, Bulkhead,” nope, she could not do it. Atleast only calling his name without titles was manageable.

Bulkhead did a quick cheery salute with his servo and went on his way. 

Starstrike forgot her surroundings for a short moment as she walled herself herself with her bird-like wings. She allowed herself to let out a small silent and polite chuckle of her own. Then she remembered where she was and hurriedly fetched back her composure. She hoped nobody just saw what she did. She wasn’t that comfortable around the Autobots. But now she felt better and more relaxed to thank the Prime for his kindness. Upon that thought her optics and smile softened.

She approached the Prime with newfound confidence. “Greetings Most Compassionate Prime,” her voice smooth, silky and warm.

Optimus turned to Starstrike.To his shock Starstrike with great precision and grace knelt down and bowed her helm touching the floor. She had her wings crossed and bent towards him and her arms and servos twisted into a cup.

“I am in great debt of tremendous gratitude yet also I am tremendously guilty and regret for even causing such worry,” her voice was stable full of grace.

The caste system had really corrupted their society. He..He was no better than any of them!

“Starstrike! Please stand up! The caste system is no more,” Optimus panicked.

Starstrike’s whole frame twitched and froze. Excuse her?! The caste system?! 

How dare he!? How come could she not express her respects to the Prime!? Besides, this show of great gratitude far preceded the age of functionism. That was the only way to treat the Prime. It had always been ever since the Thirteen Original Primes!

“I beg your finest pardon, Prime,” her voice was a little offended?

She rose up but did not raise her optics to Optimus despite having her helm high. She tried to stay neutral but her optics were sour.

“Has the Matrix not informed you of these manners?” Starstrike asked her voice sharper than she intended.

“Prime, this show of my gratitude far precedes the time when Cybertron’s civilization became corrupted from functionism, hmph!,” the hmph was unintentional.

Starstrike did her best to resist the urge to have her lipplates puckered but her tail was slightly wagging left and right. Her servos were put behind and in fists. How come the Prime was unaware? He should had known. All her composure seemed to diminish every nanoklik. She could resist her lipplates from puckering but her optical ridges managed to scrunch up. She had never faced such a response from her dear Great Ancestor Onyx. 

Optimus would had been beet red if Cybertronians could blush. He had just accidentally offended… Starstrike. Even the Matrix felt a bit guilty. Truth to be told, the Matrix had told him of the rituals and ancient etiquettes but due to the war he had disregarded them and the Matrix didn't really remind him of them henceforth. 

“I… was told but because of the war and the fact that those ways of conduct have for so long been disregarded that they have not remained in my memories. I apologise, Starstrike,” 

Oh yes the war. She should had taken that into account. Starstrike lowered her helm as her faceplate softly turned somber. Oh how she did not even mean to raise her voice towards the Prime. She turned her helm sideways and her shoulderplates slightly slumped. In actuality Starstrike didn't really raise her voice louder. Not really. Her voice just became sharper and only a fraction louder than usual which was just a tiny bit as loud as Jack's speaking volume. Her audials started to also hurt due to the silo’s signal jammers. She had yet again forgotten to calibrate her sensors for the silo. Her finials started to haphazardly twitch. She closed her optics. 

Optimus then felt the Matrix' purr become yet again slightly louder and even more stable than usual. As if it was sending some type of code. As Starstrike was starting to get a helmache she heard the Matrix' calming purr. This time the Matrix didn't need to instruct her as she immediately focused on it. Her finials started to tap along the Matrix' rhythm to Optimus’ amazement. Could Starstrike actually hear the Matrix?! He found it hard to fathom. 

During the Matrix' purr, Starstrike could recalibrate her audials to not get too agitated by the silo's jammers. She let out a silent deep vent and opened her optics. She did not even dare to look at the Prime. She only snuck lightning fast glances at him that scanned his whole frame except his helm for obvious reasons. To outsiders it looked like Starstrike's optics were just slightly twitching. Her helm was still facing sideways and downtrodden. 

“Forgive me Prime for the disrespect I have expressed to you. I have failed to take the war into regard. I had, in addition, forgotten that these ‘rituals' as you have called them, have been long forgotten on Cybertron,” her voice was soft like cotton balls. 

Optimus felt his spark aching upon seeing her posture. For him Starstrike did nothing wrong. Then a flash of a smaller Starstrike standing in the very same way as the current Starstrike flashed by his optics. He blinked twice. It did not hurt. It seemed he gained a piece of a puzzle that he could replay later. Now he just wanted to comfort Starstrike. 

“Starstrike, you've done nothing of the sort. You were simply defending what was important to you.. and even to us to some degree, “ his voice was gentle. 

Starstrike’s finials froze and her optics widened and grew a little brighter but her frame's inner glow stayed constant without any change. 

“Unfortunately,” she whispered “I beg to differ, Prime. I should not have raised my voice towards nor or spoken harshly for you have been nothing but kind to me” she sounded so little to Optimus’ audials.

Ratchet in the background was baffled. Yes, Starstrike did speak a bit harshly but raise her voice? When did that happen? He still had good audials despite his age and he didn’t even notice the change of volume when she spoke a bit harshly.

Starstrike’s finials drooped down despite her faceplate remaining somewhat composed. Something deep withing Optimus’ spark he felt a great need to have her in his embrace and coo to her sweet nothings of everything being alright. Although he in his right couldn’t possibly do that. It would undoubtably be inappropriate of him and she would most likely think the same. They barely knew each other.

“Starstrike, there is no need to keep your helm low. You may raise it,” he tried to confirm.

“Oh but I do not dare, Prime. I am of no worth to have my optics meet thine,” her voice was like a thin trickling stream of water.

It really did break his spark to hear Starstrike say such things. To be completely honest. Ever since they met, she had never actually directly looked into his optics. Even when Fowler came. Then suddenly all real logic faded as Optimus walked towards Starstrike. Once he was near enough to her, he knelt down to one knee and bent his torso in just the right angle so that his and Starstrike’s helms were facing each other. Now their optics met one another. For some reason for Optimus that position felt eerily familiar and natural. Optimus' optics were gentle and warm as he mildly smiled.

“Starstrike, it is really alright. From now on, please do not hide your optics from mine, Little One,” the nickname slipped again from his lipplates.

Starstrike’s optics widened as her frame stiffened. She could not fathom what she was seeing. Those cyan optics met her white glowing pale sapphire ones. Ever so comforting were the Prime's. What?! She blinked and both of her optical ridges shot up. Orion!? How could this be? She wasn't in Iacon yet the cement floor somehow shifted into the silver gray metal floors of the Archives. 

Before her knelt the Little Archivist. How was this possible? She then focused on her audials and listened closely. Yes, she wasn't in the Archives since the jammers hurt again. She could not believe something so illogical happened to her. Hallucinations in broad daylight! By now the standing daughter of the Saint of Praxus had her arms released from her back. 

No, she had to come to reality! She wasn't in Iacon but this place called Jasper, Nevada! Do not give in! They just looked similar! Then her vision showed overlapping images. Orion's and the Prime's faceplates overlapped each other shiftingly. Starstrike couldn't hear anything the Prime said but she could barely read his intake to decipher what was being said. She focused her optics on his lipplates despite the shifting images overlapping her vision. Starstrike… do.. not.. hide.. gaze.. me… 

“O… ri.. on.. “ an inaudible ghost of a whisper came from her voicebox. Of course nobody but Starstrike herself heard it.

Her sparkbeat quickened but then immediately calmed. Optimus felt safe. Oddly so. 

Oh how she just wanted to just collapse and bury her helm into the ever so warm embrace of Orion but no! The one speaking in front of her was not Orion but the Prime. They merely looked and acted similarly. Most likely just a coincidence. 

She perhaps should answer. 

“Your wish.. Prime… is my command. I.. shall cease to hide.. my optics from yours,” she struggled. 

Now was the time Optimus regretted ever giving Starstrike the options to choose to call him Prime or Optimus. Both of them knew that using his full name would've been too formal for mundane situations if one's name had two parts and wasn't a single word like for example Bumblebee. For some reason he hoped to hear his first half of the name. Or it was perhaps even something else completely. She had beautiful optics and so unlike the standard cyan. The fact that they even glowed white was mesmerising. 

Starstrike on the other servo could feel tears welling up beneath her optics. Oh if only Orion was in front of her instead of the Prime. So she finally managed to be connected to the rest of her frame's limbs. Notably her legs and pedes. She then took two steps away from the Prime and abruptly lifted her helm and turned it to the other side breaking the optic contact to his surprise. 

“Forgive me for my sudden movements, Prime. I meant no offence,” her voice was her usual morning dew that was clear like crystal. The Prime's presence was rather always ever since they first met, quite comforting anyway. 

“I was simply reminded of a tremendously dear and darling friend of mine and the two of you happen to look quite similar,” Starstrike shyly admitted as she tried to quickly wipe away any built up coolant tears as she was facing the other way from the Prime. 

Optimus was relieved by her explanation. Something also told him that things had gotten better. It was understandable to miss someone you hold dear and close to spark. 

“Not at all, Starstrike,” he answered as he stood back up. 

“My great gratitudes for understanding, Prime,” this time when she said the word Prime, it not only oozed polite respect but also warmth. 

Starstrike turned back to Optimus with a sweet and shy smile. She did as she promised, she looked straight into his optics. Her faceplate then gently came back to the composed calm and polite expression but her optics remained gentle. It was the same gentle, elegant and polite expression that she used with the three children. Well it was never like she was ever truly afraid of the Prime anyway. 

Optimus bore the same gentle expression. The way Starstrike called him Prime felt nice but he still longed for her to call the first half of his name. Oh well, it was a start. Perhaps they would get to know each other more in due time. 

Since Starstrike had now gotten the Prime's own permission to look up to his optics, she scanned the whole of him from helm to pedes. She took note of everything in his frame. The way he had his arms hung, the way he stood. Basically everything, including his plating and paintjob. Miko did give quite a description of the overdrive that had happened. 

“Prime, may I have the privilege to know how hath thine health been faring? Miko did give quite a vivid retelling of what had happened,” she asked in a slightly worried tone. She resisted the urge to let out a worried tweet. Hmm… It was strange that she even had the urge.   

Oh! It seemed like his Little One had yet again become emotionally overwhelmed for her to speak English with Ancient Cybertronian grammar structures or well the direct translation to English…Wait, how did Optimus know that?

“I am well, Starstrike. There is no need to worry,” 

Ratchet scoffed. “ ‘Well' is a stretch but he is recovering,”

Starstrike flinched a little when Ratchet suddenly spoke. Her sparkpulse quickened and her audials started to hurt again. The silo's signal jammers were indeed stiff like putty. Unlike the Aurora Mist’s gentle absorption that didn’t hurt her audials. The silo’s jammers’ bounceback was just so harsh. Like getting hit by tennis balls all over one’s self. Ugh! She had to yet again recalibrate her audials’ hearing range into the range where she could still hear everyone’s sparkpulses without getting hurt by the jammers. She could just lower her hearing range so that she wouldn't be bothered by the jammers but it would also mean that she couldn't hear the others' sparkbeat. Despite the Autobots not being hostile, it didn't mean that she fully trusted them either. Especially the blue two-wheeler was a potential risk. 

And the floor's holes had to also be checked so that the right amount of cement could be ordered and delivered via Special Agent William Fowler. 

“I am pleased to know that you are doing well and are recovering, Prime” Starstrike replied with her servo on her chassis. 

Optimus just nodded. He just couldn’t take his optics off Starstrike. Her frame was simply fascinating. Surprisingly enough, she somehow really did have a soft white glow from her whole frame. She really did look just like her name. Starstrike, a truly worthy name for her. 

Bright and cheery laughter. Her voice was like a cascade of wind chimes. “Come Orion! Look. Hihihihaahahaa!”

Optimus blinked. What did he just hear echoing in his processor?! Could he replay it—Argh! Shoot! Of course not! He–He was still recovering. Oh well at least the other memory was rewatchable or at least that was what he hoped.

Starstrike on the other servo stood still. She tilted her helm to the right as her calm and elegant expression started to become strained. Her smile slowly edged to a lopsided one. Well the Prime was silently staring at her so…What was she supposed to do. She even started to fiddle with her jet-wings by her bird-like wings.

Starstrike coughed to her fist. “Prime? Erm..Do you possibly have anything else we should discuss further?”

She really wanted to check the depth of the damage done so that she could order the right amount of cement. Ordering too much or too little wouldn't had been the most optimal way to proceed on things. In addition, she wasn't planning on causing more structural damage with her taloned pedes. Although the floor truly was brittle to her liking. It was almost like walking on very dense soft foam when her extremely sharp talon claws hit the floor. Oh and the vibrations from everyone's walking on the cement floor. Oh! The tingling sensation from each step from others in her talon's stump was rather irritating. Especially when Optimus Prime walked, the vibrations were the biggest. Couldn’t he walk softer? Like you know her sire, Praxus' Saint, was as big and tall as the Prime ( well,maybe a bit taller) and even he could walk lightly without causing much vibration to the floor. 

Optimus blinked a bit. Goodness, how long was he staring at his Little One—Starstrike?! “My apologies, Starstrike,” He quickly looked away rubbing behind his helm. 

“I have finally gotten the chance to really look at you and I may have gone overboard. Your frame is simply an optic-catching one that I couldn’t stop admiring it,” he half mumbled.

The Prime found her frame worth admiring? Not physiologically strange? Starstrike’s expression softened for a short moment before reverting back to her usual kind, elegant and polite one. Hmm…From the sound of his sparkbeat, he was speaking the truth. Neither did the Prime seem to find herself intimidating. Good for now. Maybe she would stay here a bit longer but this residence truly was a crude one. Thankfully she could stay in her ship the Aurora Mist otherwise she might’ve really declined the Kindsparked Prime’s offer.

Starstrike put her servo on where her sparkchamber would be situated on her chassis and took optic-contact with the Prime.

“Thank you, Prime. Your kind words are well-appreciated” her polite and kind expression remained but her morning dew-like voice was soft and warm. 

A shy smile appeared on Optimus’ lipplates but it also vanished not long after but his optics remained gentle. Starstrike’s optics softened back despite her faceplate remaining in her usual elegant, polite and kind. 

“Prime, may I now go back to my own unfinished business regarding those dreadful holes of my own cause? Even though I do find your company enjoyable, I do find it troubling within my spark to not fulfill my aformentioned promise of having the floor fixed,” 

“I also find your company nice, Starstrike. Yes you may but please it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t help yourself in that situation. Do not burden yourself with such guilt,” Optimus comforted.

“I am afraid to agree to disagree with you Prime but thank you regardless,” she laughed politely.

Starstrike then did a quick and small curtsy and went to inspect the floors holes….

Optimus’ cooling fans started to shout. Frankly speaking, his whole frame was emitting heatwaves. It was just so bad and his processor felt like it had been in an oven for a few hours. It was like a miracle that Optimus could contact Ratchet.

“Optimus!” Ratchet stormed into his room hearing how loudly his Prime’s cooling fans were shouting.

Once at Optimus’ berth, he quickly scanned Optimus. To his shock it was not something he’d expect to see. He knew that Optimus was both mentally and physically tired so he was glad that his old friend would go to have some well-deserved recharge but to wake up with your processor on overdrive was not one of those things that should come from having recharge. What could have possibly caused that?! No, there was no time to be wasted! Ratchet had to focus on the present and ask questions later.

The fact that Optimus’ whole frame was emitting heat meant that he had to immediately cool his frame quickly. Oh how Ratchet wished they’d have a cold chamber he could haul the Prime to cool his whole frame! Oh well, Fowler wouldn’t be so enthused about the prospect and apparently it would cost too much energy to uphold a Cybertronian sized fridge-like room in a desert anyway. Well that would be how Fowler would complain. Oh well, Ratchet just has to resort to the second best option which was liquid nitrogen. It was a blessing that by the time Optimus woke up the children had already gone back to their homes so he didn’t need to worry about carrying hazardous chemicals among the children.

“Hold on Optimus, I’ll be right back!” Ratchet sprinted to the warehouse to get the liquid nitrogen.

Optimus could only mumble something incoherent as a response though he really should’ve just stayed quiet. Well at least he was conscious and hadn’t passed out from the huge strain.

Not long after, Ratchet returned to Optimus with two huge canisters of liquid nitrogen.

“Now Optimus, keep your intake and optics tightly shut. I am going to pour liquid nitrogen to cool you from your overheating!”

The bleary Optimus complied obediently. Ratchet then started to pour the nitrogen unto the Prime. Thank Primus only one canister was needed for Optimus’ own programming to stabilize the frame’s core temperature. Now it was the time to inspect what even caused such an overdrive. Ratchet further inspected his scan results. Actually he was going to take another scan. At least the Prime wasn’t terrified of mere scans…Well it seemed like that certain someone was never so keen of him anyway. Ratchet remembered the eight holes on the floor. They were quite deep too—Nope he had to focus on the present at the moment. Yes the scans!

Ratchet took another scan so that he could compare its results to his previous scans.

Ratchet couldn’t believe his optics when he compared the results. The scans showed that there was a massive data exchange sequence during Optimus’ recharge. What was even more bizarre was that it came from his core WITHIN THE SPARK?!? But how on Cybertron was that even POSSIBLE to say the least!

A hiccup could be heard. A hiccup yet again. Groaning and the sound of hydraulics and released steam. Low rumbling whimpering.

Ratchet immediately turned to Optimus. “Optimus! What on Cybertron happened for you to have whatever happened here?”

“*HIC*The Archives Ratchet…I the Iacon—Back.The–the Iacon Archive…Sorting…Sorting..SORTING DATAPADS Ratchet!...” A fountain of coolant like an opened hose dripped from Optimus.

Ratchet set aside the scans and went to comfort his dear old friend and leader.

“Shh..Shhh..Shhh..It’s alright Optimus.Take it slow. Your processor was at the werge of melting..Just take it slow”

“I can still feel the warmth of the time from way back,” he whispered.

“Well your whole frame was overheating so of course you’d feel warm” Ratchet deadpanned.

“I…I…Was? I only thought that the helmache was just extremely strong,” Optimus rumbled.

Ratchet let out a frustrated vent. Seriously Optimus?! Seriously?! A really good way to ruin this sparkfelt moment. Why did Ratchet start to feel like his burden was about to double?

“Optimus! You aft-sucking IDIOT! Your whole frame was about to melt if you didn’t call!!” Ratchet had enough.

Optimus shrunk. “I–I was?”

Now Ratchet was just utterly baffled. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Did you not hear your cooling fans screaming for mercy and the heat emitting from your frame?”

Optimus shook his helm. “Only the processor wrecking helmache”

“....” How was Ratchet supposed to react to that? “Optimus…What in Primus’ name happened while you were under recharge?”

Optimus leaned his helm to his servo. “I..I dreamt or remembered would be more precise to describe it..Ratchet it…it was so real..I could hear and touch…Everything..It was from many eons ago far long before the war…Far long before I ever met Megatronus…”

Far long before meeting the gladiator? “What were you doing..besides doing what you loved?”

Optimus paused and tried to remember “Argh!” It stung in his processor.

“Easy Optimus. Do not force it…”

“I-I–Ih chan’t–Ratchet *Sniff* rehmehmber mohre *HIC*. The– memory left ah—” he crumbled. “Dhe–pure–peaacee—eeeehh,” he cried “Ih–Ih can still feel its warmth in my spark YET I DO NOT REMEMBER WHERE IT STEMMED FROM–Ahhh ahhahahaa….” yup completely crumbled.

“....” All Ratchet could do was to hug his giant friend. “Shh..Shh..Shh. I am here. You are safe..”

Ratchet had find something Optimus could focus on. Think Ratchet think. Something stable. Well it seemed like music was out of the options since it was the processor that went overdrive. Music would only agitate the processor even more. Optimus leaned too much on him for him to massage him. Ah yes! This continuous earthquaking has been constant a little ten minutes before Optimus sent a comm call for him.

“Optimus. Focus on this earthquaking that’s been constant these past 30 minutes,”

Optimus complied. Who would have thought someone else’s great agony would comfort the other’s pain.

Back in the massive Eukarian ships berthroom sat Starstrike on her nesty berth. It seemed like the reboot not only healed her frame but since it was fully healed it gave Starstrike even greater strength to roar, scream and cry. This time her audials were not subject to them. She had control over her frame. Roars of mighty lamentations, shrieks of anger and despair were let out. No physical pain. Only the roars of the spark overflowed like a thousand waterfalls. Since the frame was in her somewhat full control, her shouts and shrieks did not enable the resonance blaster-like ability.

Her roars and shouts slowly fall more mellow until they are strong weeps and cries of lamentations. Ever so slowly they just quiet down to mere whispering whimpers and chirps and from chirps to clicking and from then on into velvety silence. Starstrike laid back down her frame shivering and dozens of hiccups followed through. She fell back into recharge. She instinctively pulled back the blanket she was somehow tucked into ever since she went into that reboot.

During Starstrike’s roaring lamentations, back inside Optimus’ room, Optimus focused on the earthquake. The quake was strong enough that it hit and vibrated against his frame. Optimus’ processor started to cool down making the Prime yet again drowsy. Although, like Optimus as stubborn as he was tried to force his optics open. He..He just couldn’t go back into that recharge. He simply couldn’t. The warmth still lingered but it started to fade. Besides, his worry never vanished. The last time he saw his Little One–Starstrike was when she basically shutdowned in front of him. The fact that the Matrix virtually FORCED him to do its whims didn’t sit right with him at all. Why?! Why was the Primes’ collected wisdom acting ironically so unwisely? How come was Starstrike was safe? SHE WENT LIMP IN FRONT OF HIM FOR PRIMUS’ SAKE!!!

Purr purr “HMPH! That’s… what… you…Get…From…Growling…So…Uncivilised…”purr..purr.. Excuse him?! WHat was tHAt supposed to mean? Silence…No like not only was the Matrix silent but like the earthquake also became silent.

By then Ratchet and Optimus had stopped hugging each other. Ratchet was currently observing Optimus’ levels. By the time the earthquake stopped, Optimus had already regained his focus and calm. Now they just sat together in silence. Ratchet was so focused on reading his leader’s vitals that he didn’t notice the earthquake’s vanish. Thank Primus the helmache subsided once Optimus’ systems were able to take over and recalibrate during Optimus focusing on the earthquake’s vibrations hitting his frame.

“Ratchet” Optimus’ voice had come back.

“Yes,” Ratchet was patiently calm.

“The escorting was a nightmare,”

Ratchet stopped looking at the scans and returned his full attention to Optimus.

“Little One—Starstrike, she collapsed in front of me during our way back to her ship” his voice was dry.

Ratchet’s optics widened. “Why didn’t you contact me?” his voice was soft and gentle.

Optimus turned his helm to face Ratchet’s. His eyes were gleaming as he was holding coolant tears. “I did. Countless of times” his voice was laced with desperation.

Ratchet had his schooled expression and continued to wait for Optimus to continue.

“I. Ratchet I tried to call to you so many times that it hurt my processor but somehow the Matrix scrambled my comms for a moment,”

“When I reached her and called for her…She..She just began to go limp in my embrace, Ratchet. LIMP,”

“I was furious at the Matrix. I demanded answers from it,” his voice became bitter.

“It then said that she was ‘safe’. How was she safe if I had to reposition myself and her so that I wouldn’t accidentally trip on her wings while I carried her?!”

“Was her spark still beating though?” Ratchet tried to sound encouraging.

“That was what made situation worse. Her plating was abnormally thick that I couldn’t even sense her sparkbeat,” Optimus sounded breathless.

“Then the Matrix said that she was just in temporary stasis lock until her systems rebooted!” now frustration was taking over Optimus.

“Then the Matrix had the audacity to force me to her ship! Ratchet it controlled my frame!”

Ratchet went speechless. His optics widened and was almost about to fall from the berth they were sitting on.

“Instead of it allowing me to run to you, it led me to the ship. It somehow even opened it by its louder purring,”

“The Matrix even led me to her berthroom and told me to put her on the bigger berth of the two. That was my last straw as the humans would say. I gathered all my might just so that I could put her on her own berth,” Optimus completed.

The Matrix did WHAT to Optimus?! It controlled his FRAME just so Starstrike could get back to her SHIP WHILE she was under stasis lock and her reboot?! Why!? H-how was it even possible in the first place? Why didn’t it comfort the Prime instead?

“What about now, Optimus,?” Ratchet simply couldn’t fathom what he just heard from the Prime.

“The Matrix has returned to its silent observation,”

Ratchet nodded. “Hmm. That still doesn’t explain the reason why the scans show that there was a data transfer from the core of your spark,”

Ratchet showed the scans. “According to the scans, that’s what caused you to somehow overheat and almost melt your processor,”

Optimus leaned towards the scan results. Once he inspected them, his optics dilated from what they showed. Indeed the data flow came from his spark. Optimus shuddered. How? How did the Matrix reach his spark? Why? He found it hard to fathom. Although now he felt like the Matrix’ effort was in vain. Everything was blurry and corrupted. A new heaviness filled Optimus’ spark. He tried to remember again–Argh! It stung his processor to even think about the memory. Oh how ‘great’ he had to leave them be for now.

“It was the Matrix that caused it, “ he explained.

“The Matrix!? “ Ratchet could not fathom what he heard but it was the most logical answer.

“But why!? Why was the Matrix so invasive?!?“

“I..am not so sure…I actually have not the faintest idea to answer,” Optimus murmured.

Oh great Primus! Ratchet’s work seemed to just grown bigger. Ratched had had an inkling of a doubt that the Matrix would be having a some sort suppressing effect on Optimus. But to be so invasive as to retreat something from Optimus’ spark was new, to not care that it’s wielder would possibly suffer from it seemed like the least of its priorities. Oh now that he thought about it, the earthquake had now stopped…

The next time Starstrike woke up was the next day. She really did exhaust herself last night from all that lamentatious roaring. All that roaring was not in vain though. Of course she didn’t really feel much better. Her spark still felt like an empty echo but despite all that from far deep within the deepest chambers of her spark a faint warmth emerged. The faintest wave of comfort for the daughter of Praxus’ Saint.

Starstrike inspected her surroundings yet again. Although, with a much clearer state of mind and rested frame thanks to the reboot. Despite all that, her spark still remained aching. Ahahahaha…Haahh..Well that was no surprise. She would really rather join the Allspark as far as she was concerned but a promise was a promise. She had already vowed to her carrier to continue to live towards the ‘better future’ or whatever.

Starstrike looked around herself. What she first noticed was that she was on her own berth instead. Strange..She then looked at herself. A blanket was tucked over her. What?...Who?? When and How?!

“Starstrike!” sounds of heavy pedesteps ran towards her.

Ah…Yes…The Prime. Did he carry her here? How did he access the ship? No, that was not important. Oh but the fact that the Prime even had to carry her here. Oh how bothersome to have the Prime be in need to carry her to her ship! Starstrike took a grab on her blanket that was still tucked over her mid-section and legs. Ever since the first time she woke up last night, the blanket naturally became untucked from her chassis upwards. She squished the part of the blanket in her servos. The Prime was far too kind. A ghost of a smile hinted on her faceplate. To be completely frank. It felt a bit strange to have recharged on her own nesty berth instead of her makers’ berth, where she had slept ever since her exodus from Cybertron. She then touched her forehelm unaware that it was the same spot where Optimus caressed her. She then sighed and leaned her back to her berth’s frame.

Starstrike then searched her berth's inbuilt shelf. She opened a storing compartment and took out a memory device similar to a datapad and turned it on. A holograph appearaed. The holograph depicted two unlikely figures in front of the doors of the Iacon Archives. It was a young Starstrike holding a “little” red and blue startled archivist up above with both of her servos and arms fully extended. A “small” sparkling of 7 vorns showing her new strength. The young femme in the picture was beaming with joy smiling brightly showing off her fanged dentas. Starstrike then switched to another holograph. In that one the roles were switched and the atmosphere was much calmer. In the holograph was now the archivist that was holding. Starstrike caressed the holograph’s red and blue figure.

“Forgive me Orion. Even you too are gone from me. Rest well in the Allspark,” she whispered.

Starstrike closed her optics. New but silent tears escaped her optics but she brushed them off.

“I-I–I miss you, my darling friend. F-forgive me. F-f-f-orgive m-m-me f-f-for not fulfilling my vow”

Oh curse this war! Starstrike turned down the memory device and returned it to the cabinet. Haa…She had no will to even get out of her berth. She’d really rather just stay inside the ship but holes must be repaired. Hmm…Perhaps she should do some research on how does one fill and erase the cracks on a concrete floor.

“Oh spark of mine…Shall you ever get lighter?...”

“Hmm..Perhaps I should ask Special Agent William Fowler or just Agent Fowler as he has requested me to call him what brand was the silo’s floor’s cement that was used for the floor. I would hate to have the floor disuniformed,”

Starstrike then proceeded to write an e-mail to Agent Fowler about the cement.

After the e-mail was sent, she decided to check the text messages in her comms. Starstrike’s pale sapphire optics widened. Her inbox in her HUD showed that she was left ten (!?) unread messages. Eight of them from Miko and one from Raf and Jack. Starstrike blinked rapidly. Did she not send a text telling them not to worry?

Starstrike gulped. Oh uhm…Since her frame is well-rested, it would be extremely rude of her to not read her new friends’ text messages.

The text messages in her comms contacts from Strikie’s HUD pov:

Master Jackson Darby: Starstrike, please there is nothing to worry. There was nothing “improper”. Please rest well.

Little master Rafael Esquivel (Little Chirpling): Starstrike, it’s fine. You did nothing wrong. Please recover soon. We will be waiting.

Mistress Miko Nakadai: Strikie!! No! It wasn’t your fault! It was Ratchet’s fault. He scared ya. We saw it.

Mistress Miko Nakadai: Strikie. You still there?

Mistress Miko Nakadai: Strikiebun why aren’t ya answering?!

Mistress Miko Nakadai: Strikiee!! What’s wrong?! Why aren’t ya answering?!

Mistress Miko Nakadai: Bulk! Strikie’s not answering any of my texts!! It’s an emergency!

Mistress Miko Nakadai: Oops! Sorry, wrong contact..

Mistress Miko Nakadai: Why’s Optimus so sad? What happened?

Mistress Miko Nakadai: Hellooo! Strikie what’s wrong—Ah nevermind..Ratchet just explained that you just maybe went into this thing called stasis lock. Please just rest and recover soon Strikiebun. We love ya!

Upon reading her human friends’ assuring messages, her finials perked up. Her gaze softened. A small smile echoed on her lipplates. How kind of them. Perhaps it would be the wisest to answer Miko first.

Starstrike’s response to the three children on her HUD:

Thank you Miko for your care. My frame is now well-rested. Perhaps we will meet soon unless something urgent requires my attention but I am now in good capacity to converse with you again. I will await for your curious informations.: I the mighty Sweetspark

Dear Jack,

My conduct was indeed improper. I must have surely frightened you with my sudden irrational conduct. In truth I should have been able to explain my stance on why I should have not needed to be scanned. Regardless of all that I am in good gratitude for wishing me good rest. We shall meet soon, then.: I the mighty Sweetspark

Lovely dear Chirpling Raf,

I am glad to inform you that my frame has finally reached its recovery. I am grateful for your kind patience. Worry not smart Tiny One, I shall be in your presence soon. P.S. Please resume to my response to Jack so you may know why I would like to disagree with your statement.

I bid you well with loving care for now. We shall enjoy each other’s presence soon enough.: I the mighty Sweetspark

Starstrike was satisfied with the responses she sent to the young human friends but her spark still felt empty. Of course it felt empty. She broke her vow to a dear and darling friend. Orion Pax was dead. It would take millions of millions of vorns until her spark would beat for the last time until she joined the Allspark and reunited with her sire, carrier and Orion. Oh how many more vorns must she endure until she would be reunited with her makers and Orion?

While Starstrike stayed in her ship for the day, Fowler came to the silo in utter confusion. He had to read a very professional and polite email with a dictionary on his other hand. Now he wanted answers because it was Starstrike who sent it. Optimus was at the monitors trying to work. His faceplate bore a stale expression and his optics were strained. His digits were moving slower than usual. Yes it was a new day and a new afternoon but after what the Matrix did to him he couldn’t fall back to recharge. His processor was still throbbing from the aftereffects of the burning data transfer. Optimus just found it hard to not think about it. He tried but it was easier said than done. Optimus was unaware that Starstrike was awake since she forbade the children to tell Optimus while they were texting with her. Why? The children were wondering the same thing but decided to respect her wishes.

Fowler stepped towards the railing as the children were currently texting with Starstrike. They had created a groupchat so they all could speak together. The members of the said groupchat currently consisted of only the children and Starstrike.

When Fowler got to the railing he took out his laptop to show the e-mail Starstrike had sent him. He then prepared a cable that he’d use to connect to the silo’s monitors. Fowler then cleared his throat to gain the Prime’s attention. Optimus then blinked four times rapidly and turned to Fowler.

“Prime! Why in Uncle Sam’s striped pants did I receive an e-mail regarding what type and brand of cement was used when this silo was built?! In addition it written such a fancy and old language that I, an government officer, had to have a dictionary with me to understand half of what was said in it,” Fowler complained and wondered.

Fowler connected his laptop to the monitors with the cable to show Starstrike’s e-mail that she had sent to Fowler.

Starstrike’s e-mail:

Time of being sent: Today at 14:40

Sender: Starstrike/Striking Star of Praxus and Eukaris

Dear well regarded Special Agent William Fowler,

There has been an unfortunate occurrence at the missile silo Autobot Outpost Omega One. There happened to have occurred an unpleasant unfortunate event that had caused the flooring to have gained uncouth cracks and instability to the whole silo’s integrity by my own act of disturbance. May I have you to be inclined to me by giving your assistance of the knowledge of the exact brand and particle size of ground limestone or as you would call cement? It would be uncourtous for visual unity to have the floor be fixed with cement that oxidises into a differing shade of gray. I would like to restore the original outlook of the silo’s flooring.

Lastly I am in good gratitude of you taking time off of your busy schedule to have laid your eyes upon this letter of pleading assistance.

I bid you a smooth continuation of your day with bountiful sincerity,

Starstrike of Praxus

Post Scriptum,

Dear Special Agent, may you answer this letter of mine in the most plausible current time so that I may reform the Silo’s flooring back to its glory.

Miko scooted to Jack and whispered. “So should we tell Strikie that she got exposed by Fowler?“

Jack hesitated. “Well… I mean Fowler just kind of busted Strikie out,”

Raf wasn't sure what to do. He fidgeted with his phone as he looked from Optimus to Fowler and from him back to his phone. Raf then looked to Miko and Jack who were debating whether or not to tell Starstrike about it. Raf instead was pondering if they should tell Optimus about Starstrike's state. Raf could see how worried Optimus was over her.

“I think we should tell Strikie about Fowler, Miko” Jack whispered.

“Just think about it. I think Strikie's a person who appreciates the fact that she knows that she's in ‘danger’ so that she could prepare. Also, it's not like Optimus has to know,“ he continued.

“G-guys. A-a-are you sure we should do that. Y’know not telling Optimus?” Raf whispered while simultaneously looking back and forth from them to Optimus and Fowler.

“But what if she goes into that stasis-lock again?!” Miko shout whispered.

Rafael shrunk down. He just wanted everyone to be okay. Jack glared at Miko and she stiffened for a few seconds and sighed heavily.

“Sorry Raf. I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just that she’s become the few people that actually care and don’t judge like Bulky and you guys and she’s a girl too. We get to talk about girly stuff that you don’t understand even though she speaks a bit funny,” Miko whispered meekly.

“Have ya guys ever even seen me and Arcee actually talk? No ‘cause she’s too serious and adult stuff and war yada yada,” she added.

Jack and Rafael fell silent eyes wide. It was true.There were things that Miko didn’t really blabber about with them. Come to think of it, Miko had been fervently texting on her phone ever since they exchange phone and comm-contacts between them and Starstrike. Jack and Rafael sighed heavily and resigned.

“Okay we won’t tell Optimus,” Raf whispered in admission with tears trying to come out.

Jack sighed and whispered more. “So who’s gonna tell Starstrike?”

“Rock-paper-scissors?” Raf meekly suggested still whispering.

Miko and Jack agreed. Then the game ensued. Jack drew paper, Raf scissors and Miko rock. Since the three of them drew something that neutralised or defeated them, they did another round. This time Jack lost to two papers so it was Jack who had to send the text. Jack gulped. How was he supposed to tell Starstrike without potentially harming her state?

Meanwhile Fowler was waiting for Optimus to answer him. Optimus on the other hand was trying to understand the problem within the e-mail. To him it was just an official letter of asking for assistance. Both of the adults were unaware of the children’s doings.

“And what on Earth does she mean about the need to fix the floor. Why does it have to be so difficult? She speaks like she’s from the British Royal Family for goodness sake!” Fowler complained.

“I mean how bad could the damage—” Fowler looked around the floor to find eight jacuzzi sized craters on the floor. His eyes were about to pop from his sockets. “What in the fifty shades and shapes of the US stars?! There’s EIGHT craters on the floor!”

The children got spooked by Fowler’s reaction but despite that Miko starts to laugh at Fowler. Jack’s palms were sweating from gripping his phone so tightly with both of his hands while trying to text to Starstrike with trembling thumbs.

Optimus was instead in a daze. He was relieved that his Little One—no Starstrike had awoken. Yet his worry and the exhausting rechargeless night dimmed his processing power.

At the same time Jack forced himself to push send the send button.

Jack’s text to Starstrike in the groupchat:

Jack: Starstrike please don’t panic or anything but Fowler just exposed you to Optimus. He showed him your e-mail that you sent him. Sorry that we couldn’t help.

“OK. I sent it. Let’s hope for the best, Miko, Raf” Jack sighed.

Starstrike’s pov:

Oh my. How unprofessional of Special Agent Fowler to reveal the Prime my e-mail. What could have made him to show it to the Prime? I simply sent it to him because apparently the Special Agent was the link to the true owners of the missile silo. Considering that despite the Autobots and the kind-sparked Prime occupied it didn’t mean that they owned the place. The Autobot insignia on the floor didn’t prove that the Autobots owned the place. If the Autobots truly owned it, there would be much more modifications done to the place. I better reassure Jack, Miko and Raf that they simply are not at fault but they have helped me to their best capacity by informing me. Does not the Special Agent understand basic bureaucracy? He works in the government of the United States of America and upon my understanding in a somewhat influential position.

Starstrike’s response in the groupchat:

Starstrike:

Thank you for informing me. Please do not hold any guilt over things you could not control. In all actuality you did more than help me by telling me. It seems that for some uncomprhensional reason Special Agent had failed to comprehend the reasoning behind my inquiry. Perhaps I shall now send an another e-mail to him to clarify any misconceptions in his processors. I must admit that the Special Agent verily is unprofessional for his rank.

Oh how did sire ever could endure such illogical conduct for so long? Well he did call the High Council the Spawn of Unicron. Now the Prime knows about my awoken consciousness. It means that I am to show up in front of him sooner than later. It would be rude of me to not go and greet the kind-sparked Prime and show my gratitude towards his help. In addition, to apologize that he ever had to carry my frame back to the ship. I had no meaning to ever startle him and cause him a heavy spark. But before I do any of those things, I must send a slight reprimand to a certain Special Agent about asking for further clarifications if something is hard to understand.

Starstrike’s e-mail to Fowler:

Time being sent: Today 15:30

Sender: Starstrike/Striking Star of Praxus

Dear Special Agent William Fowler,

I have come to feel the need to clarify some possible misconceptions upon why I have ever conceived the thought of contacting you about fixing the missile silo Autobot Outpost Omega One. I in all simplicity perceived that as the tenants of this space of carved sandstone I should report my mistake of causing damage to this place under your ownership. As you are well aware, the Autobots do not own this rock structure of military occupation. If you have found something to hard to comprehend, I would gladly clear anything. I do not comprehend why there would be any need to involve other occupants of this missile silo if only I am the one to cause the damage. If you perhaps somehow have come to ask the Prime and showed the previous e-mail sent to you, I may have to report this unprofessional behaviour to your superiors for unprofessional conduct about damage control between the tenant and renter.

With all due respect,

Starstrike of Praxus, Neutral Faction of Cybertron.

Oh the more I think about this the more my energon seems to roil and boil! How dare this government official even bother the Virtuous Prime! He is a special agent, is he not?! How come does he not understand basic damage control!? Where is his common sense and understanding of common bureaucracy? If this was Praxus or the High Council, he’d be immediately disciplined and demoted to a lower rank!

Well at least I have the strength to get out of my berth. ARGH! How dare he bother the Prime?! The rightful ruler of Cybertron! Actually the first time we even met I have found his common conduct towards the Prime absolutely horrendous! How dare he shout and look at him in the optics without his permission!?! Will I get out of my ship? Oh heavens no! As the humans would say. I shall now revive my combat prowess.

I got up from my berth and I passed the berthroom’s mirror. From there I saw my haggard reflection. Ugh! Of course my feathers were all over the place! As much as I enjoy spa treatment and keeping myself in good shape, preening myself is the last thing I like to do. Well there is nothing to evade this unless I want to deal with even more tangled messes of feathers. As carrier used to say: “Majesty needs majestic wellbeing and it’s the cost of being blessed by Great Onyx himself!” and sire used to say that: “A well-polished plating is the first thing others will admire,”.

Hmm…Speaking of great-great-great-grandsire Onyx…I’ve horrendously disregarded his presence. I should visit him. It is just the fact that I have been mourning. I could not bear to see him and potentially be reminded of carrier and the fact that I couldnot possibly escape from Praxus to Eukaris in fear of it being discovered by that Self-contaminator.

End of Starstrike’s pov.

Meanwhile in the silo, Fowler was speechless and Miko is cackling with tears coming from her eyes. Starstrike’s newest e-mail had the biggest change in tone between the more mellow approach of the previous e-mail.

“Tell my superiors?! Also, how did she know I’d be here anyway,Prime?” Fowler was at a lost for words.

“HAhahahahahahah! And the fact that you had to use a dictionary to understand Strikiebun. Pffth hahhhahahahaa!”

“Miko! I understand government jargon and not people who speak like they’re from a Jane Austen novel or a member of the British Royal Family!”

Jack and Rafael sat stiff. The way Starstrike wrote the e-mail was really brave. Rafael could feel the authority from the e-mail. They never thought how big the ‘small’ reprimand would be.

Optimus’ processor was running blank. He did not even notice the most recent e-mail that Starstrike had sent to Fowler. He was only relieved that Starstrike had awoken—

“PRIME!”

Optimus came back to reality. “Forgive me Agent Fowler. Were you currently saying something?”

Fowler got lost in his tracks.”Prime. Would you please explain this goddess’ behavior and these holes on the silo’s floor and how did they come from. Like how could that porcelain doll cause such craters?”

Optimus strugglingly turned to Fowler and the children. He then slowly turned his helm towards to where the eight craters were. Optimus’ hydraulics clicked and hissed. He then approached the craters. The spot where Starstrike shook and even growled a little. He then struggled into a crouch and inspected the craters. A longing and worried expression on his faceplate hidden from others since his back was facing them.

“As…Little—Starstrike had stated…in the..e-mail..A tragedy happened here…she accidentally…Damaged the floor, Fowler”

By now even Miko fell quiet when Optimus spoke. Even steam starsted to emit out of his frame. Optimus caressed the edge of one of the craters. His optics started to dim down. Gusts of steams escaped from the frame’s slits. Optimus was abou—

“Optimus!” Ratchet ran to him and grabbed his frame under his support.

“I heard the hydraulics and you’re even emitting steam! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out of your berthroom!”

Ratchet then quickly commed Bulkhead. “Bulkhead I need your help carrying Optimus back to his berthroom!”

Not long after, Bulkhead ran to the ain hall to assist Ratchet. “We got ya Bossbot!”

“I..’m fiiineee…—”

A/N:

Klik

~1 minute

Cycle

~1 hour

Solar cycle

~1 day

Orbital cycle

~1 month

Stellar cycle

~1 year

Vorn

~1 century

"This is Ancient Cybertronian speech"

Bulkhead wasn't sure what to make of Starstrike. On one servo he wasn't so sure how to act around her due to her being a member of the high caste but on the other servo Miko had been gushing about her nonstop ever since she introduced herself to Starstrike. During their two rides back and forth between the host parents’ house and the base all Miko was talking about how much she enjoyed spending with Starstrike and couldn't wait to go back to the base while simultaneously TEXTING with the said femme. Although from what Bulkhead picked from Miko was that Starstrike did not talk that much and Miko was mainly the one speaking. Well it wasn't unlike of anyone to have much input on conversations with Miko when she was sharing whatever she was interested or excited about. 

Y'know what? Maybe Starstrike's not so bad if Miko felt comfy around her. Maybe she wasn't a spoiled bitlet like most offspring of the high caste. Hmm.. Maybe he could even go and talk to Starstrike if there wasn't anything more to do at the base. Bulkhead looks at his energon scanner he was holding. The machine beeped blank. The hint of energon was merely measly digit sized slivers of energon. So basically nothing. Since there was nothing, he found it wise to comm Ratchet a groundbridge  back to the base. 

Bulkhead then went through to the groundbridge to a tense and solemnly quiet base. Ratchet was at the console working on something, his frame stiff. Bulkhead turned to the human area. The children were on the couch looking at their phones dazed, none of them even blinked. A blank look on their faces. He then looked at the floor. A web small cracks leading to bigger and deeper ones to eventually eight human bathtub sized craters. Bulkhead could even hear his own sparkbeat in his chassis inside the silo. It was as if Wheeljack had an invisible bomb explode inside the silo and this eery silence was the aftermath of it. Bulkhead decided to look over to 

Ratchet, who was working by the main consoles. Ratchet’s whole posture was stiff and his movements almost as slow as a sloth’s. Usually Ratchet bore a neutral blank expression but his optics would show that he was still actively conscious. This time even his optics were blank. This blank faceplated times three! For Primus’ sake. What on Cybertron happened?!

Bulkhead wasn’t sure what to do. Sure he could sense that something was wrong but he was no genius to figure out what could have possibly happened. BTW, where was Starstrike? Wasn’t she supposed to be here chatting and even have fun with Miko? Well there was nothing else he could do.

“Uhh…Guys? Miko weren’t ya guys supposed to have a Q&R or whatnot?”

Ratched regained active consciousness and hummed: “Oh hi Bulkhead,”

“Uhm, hi Ratch…” Wait! Did Ratchet only just now noticed his massive presence?!

What fragging happened?! Also, where did those holes on the floor come from now that he thought about it?

“She..she..wa—...so…terrified…” Rafael mumbled.

“This…–kes no sense..” Jack stared at his phone.

“Wha–what happened here?” Bulkhead pleaded. Someone please tell him what happened that even made Ratchet go on autopilot?

“Ratchet scared her. He said something that scared Strikie!” Miko blurted suddenly. 

What? Ratchet scared the lil’ princess?

“Miko! No I did not!...Well I never said anything threatening,” Ratchet snapped.

“How was I supposed to know, Ratch?! You guys weren’t speaking English!” she argued.

Bulkhead looked between his charge and the medic. He then started to rub the behind of his helm and fidgeting with his pedes.

Bulkhead sighed. Someone…Just someone tell him what was wrong.

Then he heard heavy dragging pedesteps of someone larger and heavier than him. Ah bossbot returned. Finally someone who could shed a bit of light to this bizarre situation. Bulkhead turned to face Optimus who was behind him. Bulkhead’s optics widened from the sight. The mighty calm bossbot had his helm downturned. The glow on his optics were faint. Even his posture was downtrodden as if he was hit by another invisible truck.

“Boss. Please. Just what on Cybertron happened here that made Ratchet and the kids like this?” Bulkhead gestured towards them.

OK. Why was it that if Bulkhead really squinted, he maybe like just maybe could see coolant build up under Optimus’ optics?

“It seemed to be that…Ratchet accidentally triggered something in Little One–Starstrike to exhibit a fight-or-flight mode though it seemed to try inhibit it,” Optimus vented. His voice was like a mere echo in a windy storm.

Suddenly Miko sprinted to the human area’s railing showing a text message from Starstrike. Bulkhead approached Miko and read Starstrike’s message.

Starstrike’s text:

Strikiebun: 

Dear beloveds, Jack, Rafael and Miko.

My sincerest and deepest apologies for my sudden disregard of proper conduct. I greatly regret to inform that I am of no ability to rejoin in your communion for the time being. Alas though, please do not burden your processors with any hint of worry. I shall recover and soon rejoin your lovely presence soon enough. Please do inform the Ever kind bearer of the Matrix of leadership Optimus Prime that the floor will be fixed and that I never meant  to cause any offence to the Good Doctor Chief Medical Officer Ratchet. 

With all goodwill, thine friend, 

Starstrike

“She literally sent all of us a message that basically said ‘Sorry about that lil’ reaction of mine but no worries I’m fine’ but in such a complicated way that Raf had to google a few words just so we could understand what the text was saying!” Jack poured out.

“Uhhuh…” that was all that Bulkhead could muster.

So Starstrike was the one to cause the holes on the floor? Bulkhead went to inspect the holes and holy cow, as Miko would say. The holes were deep. A small shudder ran through him but why? Somehow something deep within Bulkhead’s spark recognised something. Though he wasn’t really aware of it. Well that kinda explains why everyone’s weirdly dejected. Bulkhead then heard Optimus’s draggy slow and heavy pedesteps leave the main hall.

Hmm…Maybe Bulkhead should go let off some steam. The silence was too confusing for him to try and understand. Bulkhead then headed to the training room.

Optimus collapsed unto his room’s berth. The escorting was a sparkchattering nightmare. Silent slivers of coolant slithered down his chrome faceplate. Heavy and slow heaves of vents were let out. His spark felt like it could melt out of his chassis and drain down to the ground. 

The Little One–Starstrike seemed to calm down once they were outside the silo. They didn’t talk but Little One—Starstrike’s golden angel wing-like finials were flickering in the same beat as the Matrix’ hum or…Actually it seemed more like…His(?) sparkbeat. Starstrike was three steps ahead of him. She had insisted that she did not need any support while walking. Optimus actually wanted to refuse but her pleading wide optics melted his spark and resolve. Once he gave in, her faceplate ever so innocently lit up but as quickly as it came it faded in the same manner.

Starstrike’s steps were far from stable. They were slow and extremely wobbly that Optimus regretted even giving in to his Little One—Starstrike. It is Starstrike and not Little One. Get it together in your processor Optimus! You barely know her! The Matrix was disagreeing—Suddenly all Optimus could see was the corridors of the Iacon Archives and a bubbly skipping mass of hazy iridescent lilac and cyan mass. Optimus blinked and he was back into reality to a collapsed Starstrike on the sandy ground. Optimus’ spark sank and he sprinted to Starstrike.

Steam was evaporating from every nuke and cranny of Little One’s—STARSTRIKE’s frame!

“Starstrike! Wake up! Tell me your ailment please! You are safe with me,” 

Optimus lifted her frame to face him. Starstrike’s optics were half open and hazy but her frame began to go limp. 

“Little One, I am here,” the words ever so familiar to his glossa like spoken for millions of millions of times tenderly.

“Oh….n?” a tired whisper. Starstrike’s glow from the optics shut down and followed by her optics also closing as her frame went limp in Optimus’ embrace.

Optimus was about to contact Ratchet immediately but somehow the Matrix interfered with his comms system making it impossible for him to contact Ratchet. Optimus became furious with the Matrix. How dare the Matrix block his comms?!

“Explain yourself” he growled like a hungry lion.

The Matrix seemed to tremble upon the last Prime’s fury but then immediately started to purr calming purrs with words. Great great great grandescendant of Onyx safe. Fine. Stasis lock until system reboot complete. 

The only words that Optimus heard were safe, stasis lock and reboot which calmed him down. Then he lifted Starstrike’s frame in bridal style as the Matrix quite literally internally pulled Optimus to Starstrike’s massive ship. The mention of Onyx passed him completely. Then the Matrix purred even louder causing the ship to open its door so that Optimus could enter it. Then it led him to the ship’s berthroom that contained two berths. One for couples and one nest-like for the other. This time the Matrix instructed Optimus to put Starstrike on the big berth but he disregarded it and put her unto her own berth. Of course he was still angry at the Matrix. Then out of the blue he instinctively caressed her helm.

“Recharge well, Little One,” slipped from him to his own surprise. 

Since the ship was dim, he then finally noticed something. Starstrike was emitting white light from within. His optics widened. How? How was that possible? More questions flowed into his processor which made him go into autopilot while exiting the ship. 

What was wrong with him? Perhaps he also should recharge a little. With his spark heavy, Optimus slipped into a surprisingly deep recharge.

Today was a tremendously delightfull day in the Archives. Alpha Trion let him have some free time to read every datapad he wanted to his spark’s content but before that he still had to sort the newly published datapads of some renowned author. Of course he shouldn’t have been so excited that he forgot to look ahead of him. Never did he ever thought that he’d bump into someone have one of the datapads hit the one in front of him. Both he and the young femme were afts on the floor. 

“Ouch… “ she whimpered. Ancient Cybertronian?

“Are you alright little one?” he asked. Well from the sound of it, it seemed like she was young enough to be called one. 

Upon further observation, it seemed like the “little one” was more the size of a youngling. A peculiar one at that too. She had two pairs of wings. A pair of bird-like wings and below them a pair of neon cyan jet-wings that seemed a bit too big for the frame. Well, she was still growing anyway. Her plating seemed to be glowing and shifting into different colors depending from where the light hit it but somehow the base color remained a pretty lilac. She had gold, cyan and magenta parts. Especially her pauldrons and the marginal coverts of her bird-like wings were like magenta gems that reflected the same rainbow of colors. Her helm was a piece of art in itself. Even around her optics were lined with gold! —

“I am well. Errr… Thanks for askin’,” she chirped(?) while rubbing her helm. 

The young femme scrambled to her taloned (!?) pedes, her wings huddled together and an attempted polite smile. An attempt since it became a bit lopsided. Her golden finials were pointing downwards. He himself was still on the ground. Then suddenly her finials rose up and her pale sapphire(!) optics widened and her frame momentarily stiffened. 

“I erm. I am terribly sorry for bump’n into you, Kind Sir!” she bowed. “I should have paid more mind to where I was heading,”

Ah the way she spoke. She was from the high caste! Why was she bowing to a mere archivist as him? What was even more bizarre was the fact that she didn’t even look straight into his optics but pointed them downwards. Oh yes, he also should get up.

A smile crept on his faceplate and optics tender. “It is fine. The most important thing is that you were not hurt, young lady,”

“Well the fallen datapad did hurt but it didn’t injure me,”  she silently grumbled to herself. 

“May I also add that there was no need to bow to a lowly archivist as I,”

“But you are older than I, correct?” she lifted her helm but optics remained to the ground “Carrier taught me to respect my elders, whoever they be,” 

“In addition young lady, it was my fault for not seeing you in front of me,” he tried to correct the young femme.

“Well that was a big load of illogical scrap that my audials have ever received,” she grumbled to herself even more?!

“Ever so kind Archivist, I can clearly see from the amount of datapads that the stack was tall enough for you to see properly” her optics still stayed to the floor but her helm stayed up “It was I, who had nothing obstructing my view, that is in the wrong for walking with my helm looking at my own…pedes,” her wings huddled even closer to herself and her helm slowly went down. 

Oh…So she was at fault and proved with clear logic.Yet the mistake was so small that for her status should not be such a big deal since she did bump into him and not someone more noble. 

He then decided to approach the young femme and crouch below just so that their optics. It bothered him too much that the young femme did not dare to meet this lowly archivist’s optics. He was supposed to be the one to look down not her.

“The logical proof of your guilt is registered, young lady. It is fine, furthermore, it was an accident, wasn’t it” his voice was gentle.

She nodded her helm.

“Please young lady, raise your optics to mine. You are forgiven,” 

The young femme hesitantly moved her optics to meet his. His optics dilated from the sight. Not only were the optics pale sapphire but they glowed white(!?). Then she quickly cut optic contact by lifting her helm and gaze to the hallway around them and looked around herself and saw the datapads on the ground. 

“My many amounts of gratitude, Kind Archivist,” she chirped in a happier tone. 

He smiled and rose back up. Since they were standing so close the young femme was almost ⅔ of his height. 

“Young lady, may I say something?” 

She turned to him but her gaze went back to the ground though her frame was more relaxed. “You may?”

“From now on I would like to request that whenever you look at me, your optics also meet mine,”

She immediately lifted her optics to meet his. 

“Besides, it wouldn’t be so good for a member of the high caste to treat me in such humility,” he added.

To that the young femme made a face like she was straight insulted or she just ate something extremely bitter. She rapidly blinked her optics. Her scanned him with her optic from helm to pede.

She then rolled her optic and rubbed her optical ridges and vented rather dramatically. “Ah of course this is Cybertron and not Eukaris,” yet again said to herself. 

Her optics then became fierce as they met back with his. “I utterly refuse to acknowledge that statement, Kind Archivist” 

Now this time was his turn to blink optics. “Is that so?” 

She nodded yet again in determination. Then with an authoritative stance she fixed her posture and looked straight into his optics when she took a little distance from him. 

“From now on you are forbidden to view of yourself in that disgusting way in my presence. You shall view yourself in good regard. Understood?” she commanded. 

He stiffened. Why?! “That would be improper of me though,” he mumbled.

“Improper you say? By that logic, isn’t not complying to my command even more improper?” she challenged and it looked like her patience was being tested.

He became speechless.Yes indeed his disobedience would be more crude than remaining the same. His spark warmed and a smile appeared. 

“Indeed. It truly would be improper of me to disobey your command, young lady,” if his voice was already gentle when he spoke to the young femme, then now it was even gentler and warmer. 

The young femme huffed in victory with her fists on her hips and chassis puffed. Even her chin was lifted up and her optics were shut. It was as if she was basking in the none existent sunlight. “That’s what I thought!”

Then suddenly her optics opened and she put her servo on her lipplates and her finials shot up. She abruptly changed her stance into a more refined and elegant one. She then coughed into her fist fixing her gaze into a more gracefull and gentle one.

“My many pardons, Kind Archivist. What I had meant to say was thank you for choosing wisely,” she gave an attempted elegant smile. It was yet again lopsided.

She then clapped her her servos. “Well then, please let me help you with these datapads since it was due to my own error that we even are in this situation, Kind Archivist,”

He was about to refuse—

“Pretty pleeaaaseee,” her optics were wide and slightly upturned. 

How was he supposed to refuse her now when his spark was about to melt from the sight. He calmed down and relaxed. “Fine but what will you do if someone finds out?”

“We won’t since I’ll be hiding behind ya,” she responded cheekily. 

She then proceeded to eagerly get to work before he could even permit it. He then smiled warmly and began to also pick up the datapads. To his surprise the young femme stacked the datapads into chronological order just as he was assigned to do.

How did she know or was it pure coincidence?

The femme was crouching and the turned her helm at him. “What?” came out ever so innocently. She was even smiling beamingly. 

“Oh I uhm. Was just impressed by the way you stacked the datapads,”

Her finials drop a bit. “Ar-e. Erm. Are they in the wrong order?”

“Oh nonono. They are in the right order, young lady,”

The finials come back to their standard height.

“I was just wondering how did you figure out that they had to be in that order? I have never even told you that I was supposed to sort them in that order,”

She looked around herself as if trying to come up with a concise answer.

“The datapads are all from the same author so I deduced that the most logical way to be organized unless they were supposed to be sorted according to their popularity but that would simply be a helmache. Because their popularity would shift depending on the city. For example in Praxus the most popular work of this author would be almost none since this author’s wording choice is so mind bogglingly illogical with full of philosophical paradoxes that are left unexplained….” She slowed down and blinked.

“Sorry. I must have bored you, Kind Archivist,” she fidgeted with her jet wings by her bird-like ones.

Nope. He was quite mesmerized really. “No, please do continue, young lady,”...

Now he and the young femme behind him were heading towards the correct shelves. Something then came to his mind while walking. The young femme was big enough to be a youngling but something in her behaviour hinted that to be otherwise. 

He turned his helm to face the young femme “Young lady, how old may you be?”

“Four vorns, Sir” she beamed nonchalantly. 

He stopped in his tracks and now fully turned to his new regal helper. Four vorns?! She was no youngling! She was just a sparkling! A rather large “little one” though. What was she doing alone without her sire and/or carrier?! 

“Young lady, why are you without your makers?” he asked voice gentle but coated with worry. 

Everything with the “little one” perked up. “Ahem…About that mishap..” Now she even slowly turned her helm to the side. “So about that…I uhm..OK please don’t tell sire this..” 

Uhhuh. Sure go ahead. “That will depend on your answer, Missy” his voice became a bit sterner.

“W-well..I uh was supposed to stay at…,” she gulped “our flat, but uhm,” she glimpsed at him “while sire was at a long meeting with these ‘spawns of Unicron’ and all that,” her finials dropped low “my curiosity got the best of me since Iacon’s so big like back in Praxus and one thing led to another, I got lost in here and…” she turned back to him optics slightly twitching “here…we are..” her voice got a few pitches higher with the last sentence.  

“Then where is your carrier?”

“Back home in Praxus, Sir–B-but actually I was going to ask you for directions if we didn’t bump into each I promise but look, here we are. Ahahhaaha. Ahem. Sorry” 

Goodness! What has he gotten himself into? Hopefully he won’t be dragged into trouble from this. He really didn’t want to lose this job.

He vented. The “little one” clearly didn’t mean any harm and he could clearly see that she was regretting her life choices and that would also explain why she was ,according to her, walking her helm down. 

“Alright then. I would like to at least know what your designation, Little One” he was defeated.

Her optics grew brighter. “My designation is Starstrike, Kind Archivist, a pleasure to make acquaintance,” she smiled sweetly. If their servos weren’t holding datapads, they would’ve shaken servos.

“May I also know your designation, Kind Archivist?” her voice was hopeful.

His expression softened. “My designation is Orion Pax, Starstrike,”

To be fair the “little one” did resemble a shining star in a way.

“Alright then Starstrike, when does your sire finish?” he needed to know so that he could determine whether or not he’d inform her sire.

“It depends what time it is. My many pardons Sir Orion Pax but I have yet to fully master my usage of the chronometer,” she chirped.

He checked his chorometer which showed that it was 13:50. 

“Phew!”

He raised his optical ridge. 

She whined. “Whaaat?”

After noticing his rising suspicious expression she schooled her faceplate “Ahem. What I meant to say was that I still have two more cycles until he’s ready so I have a sufficient amount of time to help you and sprint back to the flat and act as if nothing had happened unless there’s a traffic jam then there’s a chance I might get caught by sire. So a 50/50 chance of survival,”

Alright then. Lets hope she gets back home on time. “Fine but if I get fired it is your fault. How would you fix that, Little One?”

“Hmm…I could ask sire to help you get hired in Praxus’ vast archives. Unfortunately Praxus’ archive is 1/100 smaller but still should be sufficient enough for you or we could take you to Eukaris’ Halls of Wisdom,” she got excited while pondering.

Wait?! Have him hired in Praxus instead? Who was her sire to have such influence and how was she so confident that her sire would definitely agree to her request to help a nobody like him out of the blue?! 

She then shrugged. “Well at least carrier would gladly help by having you work in Eukaris’ Halls of Wisdom–You do speak Eukarian or Ancient Cybertronian as you would call it here?”

He was about to get speechless. “Well I understand it but I don’t speak it,” because Alpha Trion taught him so that he could understand the ancient texts. 

Also Eukaris is still living? But it got estranged from Cybertron eons of vorns ago!

Her optics lit up. “Great! Carrier could possibly teach ya tah speak iht,” she beamed.

“Woah woah. Please calm down Little One. Let’s make sure I won’t get fired anytime soon,”

“Hahaha, pardon me. I already got ahead of myself. Hhihia!” she smiled wide with her fanged (!?!) denta so cheerfully…

They were about to finish sorting the datapads, there was only a pair of small bundles left but then she suddenly stopped sorting it seemed like someone was comm calling her. Unfortunately for her, she seemed to accidentally turn on the speaker mode and couldn’t turn back into private mode. Well at least she managed to turn down the volume but he could still hear the caller as they were standing close to each other and the Archives were quiet.

The speaker from the comms: “Greetings Striking Star, I would strongly assume that you are still at the flat, correct?”

“Sire! Shouldn’t you still be at that meeting with those ‘Spawns of Unicron’ as you’d call them?” she tried to sound calm.

The speaker from the comms: “In great fortune the meeting ended sooner due to Alpha Trion suggesting that we would continue tomorrow since everyone else’s, except mine of course, capability for logical conversation were nowhere to be seen. Hence why it ended,” his voice was clear and ethereal.

“Where are you now, my dear sire?” she attempted to act as if nothing happened.

The speaker from the comms: “I am currently on my way back to the flat. You are to STILL BE there, right, Starstrike?”

“Well…You could say that I had just gotten so bored that my curiosity got the best of me,” she replied ever so elegantly but her both pairs of wings were fluttering and she bore a strained smile.

A tired sigh of a sire could be heard from the comms and by the sound of a low purr it seemed like he was in a vehicle mode. Yet he somehow could have imagined the sire rolling his optics and his two digits between his optical ridges.

Speaker from the comms: “Starstrike…SWEETSPARK…I verily know that you know running off to somewhere suddenly in surge of curiosity is less than logical AND safe. I am aware that Iacon is interesting but it is not Praxus dear. And even in Praxus you know better than to suddenly run off to somewhere with or without warning,”

“I am aware, sire but I just really couldn’t help myself and it is unlike of me to go somewhere unsafe in this city anyway,” her voice softened yet warm.

Speaker from the comms: “And where may you be then that you call ‘safe’?”

“I am in the Iacon Halls of Records, sire and even made a new friend here,” her voice was hopeful. 

A relieved sigh came from the comms. “Very well Striking Star. I shall come and get—”

“There is no need sire! We could just meet at the crossroads and go back together from there on,”

The speaker from the comms: “Sweetspark, as you have most likely heard I am in my alt mode currently. How do you expect me to transform in the middle of traffic without being fined from it?”

The speaker from the comms: “Mind I also add that your sire is not from the most nimble and smallest ends of the seekers despite having Praxus’ most elegant and dynamic fighter jet,” his voice was still ethereal yet amused.

“Oh yeah. I forgot how huge you are. It’s just that compared to carrier you just look so much smaller than her,” 

“Sire, what if I were to just now return back to the flat so that you don’t need to tire yourself further. I’ll be back there quickly since I would just run with my pedes there. Pwetty pweaaasee,”

Speaker from the comms somewhat defeated: “Very well Starstrike. Be glad that your carrier managed to convince me through our conjunx bond to give in but I will be expecting a thorough lecture from you explaining why you saw fit to go into that risky endeavor of yours. In addition, only start running when you are outside of the Iacon Archives alas I do not wish to be greeted with reports of a rainbow lightning scratching the Archive’s floors,”

“Yes Sir!” She saluted and the comm call ended.

If Cybertronians could blush, she would have been beet red but since they couldn’t “the little one” opted to hide behind her bird-like wings with her form somewhat slumped. He was thoroughly amused but still he was wondering who possibly could be her makers. Even a warm chuckle escaped him. Of course, she was still a sparkling. The young femme finally got her courage back and looked between him, the remaining stack and the shelves. She became rather deflated. 

“My greatest apologies, Sir Orion Pax,” her shoulder plates slumped “I am truly sorry that I can no longer help you to fully sort the datapads,” her voice was so small.

He crouched down to her and put a comforting servo on her pauldron. “You have helped me far more than you thought Little One. We saved countless of kliks just because you were helping. Without your hel I would still be sorting at least five piles of datapads but with your help there’s only a pair left,” a gentle and caring smile was on his faceplate. 

“Really?”

He just nodded. “Now go back to your sire before more trouble ensues,”

Her bubbly self came back and she nodded in determination. “Okie dokie then, Sir Orion Pax. I shall get going then—” she then turned back to him again but sheepishly “Erm. I AM still lost though, mind showing me the exit?”

“Of course, Little One, furthermore, please just address me as just Orion,”

“Okie, Sir Orion,”

“Please, just Orion,”

She lifted up her thumb digit but seemed like her glossa was struggling “...Orion”

“This is pure sacrilage,” she muttered yet again to herself….

Starstrike shot up from her berth.”ORION!”

She heaved. Starstrike could’ve sworn that Orion was with her. She heard his sparkbeat. But no. She wasn’t on Cybertron but on Earth, there was no way Orion could have been with her. The Prime was only similar to him. There were significant details that made the two different. One, by now she would be at least one and a half helm taller than Orion. Secondly the red and blue color scheme was not uncommon for the lower castes to sport. Furthermore, he was most probably dead from the war anyway. Why was she on her berth instead of her makers’?

Yet another set of weeping and crying ensued though this time her frame had fully healed so it was only her spark that was hurting. The reboot did its job, she was no longer aching in her frame and frankly her frame felt rejuvenated. But alas that just made her cries of agony even louder. Fortunately, her ship wasn’t able to fit the silo and was parked behind it but the vibrations were not undetectable. 

Back in Optimus’ berthroom. The Prime’s optics shot open and immediately he was met with a tsunami of an helmache. It felt like everything in his processor was screaming with excruciating pain. He had to contact Ratchet and this time the Matrix didn’t even bother to stop him. If it had a face it most likely was smirking with pride.