Sunrunner left his optics offline, faking sleep to listen to the soft, almost lilting cadence of voices in the other room. It wasn't nearly as restful as true sleep, but at least the soft voices kept the nightmares away. He recognized two of them; the third was a mystery. One was Octane, but an Octane very different from the one he remembered from the outpost. That Octane had all but fawned over Irradia. This one . . . this one seemed to have matured a great deal in the past several weeks. The second was Shockwave . . . faulty memory finally recalled him as the one who had drugged him for the sake of . . . of something. He couldn't remember the details, nor did he particularly care to do so. It was enough for his anger that Shockwave had acted at all,unprovoked, against someone he had only just met.

With effort, the yellow warrior pushed down his anger. He had already learned the hard way that letting his anger loose brought with it agonizing memory and lost time. He had the nagging feeling that there were other things he should have known but couldn't remember. It was distracting and disheartening, but he was too afraid to admit to his memory troubles.

Paladin. They thought he didn't know, but he had heard the name more than once, still remembered the sneer as Blurr spoke it at their first meeting. Sunrunner was a nobody. But the captives here knew him as Paladin, Champion of the Decepticon Rebellion, the one who had defied the Empire and lived. He had to live up to their expectations, even though he knew it was currently beyond him. He still had to try.

"Sunrunner, could you come out here please?"

The yellow warrior pushed aside a sigh as he rose to his feet. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that Octane knew he was awake, but it still irritated him. Neither was he pleased to see a third Decepticon seated at the table with Octane and Shockwave, one he did not know. One who would likely expect him to either be brilliant or noble. Or both.

"Paladin," the third Decepticon murmured, bowing her head slightly; Sunrunner felt his shoulders tingle at the reverence this unknown rebel showed him. "It is an honor to meet you. I am told you, too, know that Megatron and his band of followers yet live. I confess, we had not realized word had traveled so far."

"Spectra was recently captured with a handful of other warriors from a listening post on the galactic rim. They have been decoding messages between Earth and Cybertron for some time now, hoping to learn more about the state of the resistance."

"The knowledge that the news I carried might give other prisoners some measure of hope was all that sustained me at the hands of those Autobot murderers. Imagine my surprise to arrive here only to find that you already known. I had not thought that a prison camp could have such news of the outside universe. Then again, I would not have thought a prison camp to be as . . . luxurious as this," she concluded, gesturing to the oil lamps that illuminated the sparsely furnished room.

"The Autobots are no strangers to psychological warfare," he muttered darkly.

"Yes, I suppose they know how it must break the spirit to have the power of the Empire thrown in our faces at every turn," the Femme murmured, toying with a glass of energon.

"At the listening post, this would have been a week's ration," she continued a moment later. "Here, it is as nothing. If they can be this generous to those of us whom they would as soon see dead, how much more vast must their resources be? Little wonder the fight has fled so many sparks here."

"We are in a place of disadvantage," Shockwave rumbled. "The Empire's power is concentrated only a few lengths from the very gates of this place. In my first month here, the dark shapes of freight shuttles and couriers were common sights. I shudder to think how many Imperial warships have been built by the labor of our hands. But to refuse to work is to be killed, slowly and painfully. Dead, I can do nothing for our people. Alive, I can at least work to ease their hardships, if only by a small margin."

"No offense was meant, General," Spectra murmured, bowing her head once more.

"No, of course not, Daughter. I have heard your words many times, every time a new warrior contingent is brought within these walls; they no longer hold the power to hurt that they once did. And for each speaker, I repeat what I know to be true: the only escape is death. No one has succeeded in escaping the camps in all the long vorn I have been here. Some have escaped their districts, to the sorrow of our people, but never beyond the main gate . . . not for long. Sunrunner is the closest any have come in some time. He is truly fortunate that he remains here and not in the holding pens of the arena."

"They cannot kill me," Sunrunner sighed, pouring a glass of energon for himself. He didn't really need it, but the presence of the cup in his hands, the gentle scintillating of the liquid within, soothed him.

"They fear to make Paladin a martyr?"

"Something like that. . . ."

An uneasy silence descended upon the room, interrupted only when the shift change was signaled, a discordant klaxon that rang twice, then went silent. A few Decepticons moved about the camp, transferring between factories and housing units, but the sound level was far less than Sunrunner felt it should be.

"If I might be so bold to ask . . . how is it you came to have this knowledge when we only came to possess it a few days before the attack?"

"You can ask," Sunrunner rumbled, "but it won't do you any good."

"Sunrunner," Octane scolded quietly. The yellow warrior snorted, sipping his drink without meeting anyone's optics. He didn't know why, but something about Spectra struck him as being . . . off.

"You don't . . . trust me, do you?"

"Nothing personal," he replied, finally meeting the newcomer's vermillion gaze, forcing a half smile. He pushed down another sense of warning as she met his own azure optics without flinching. It wasn't the first time someone had been unfazed by his blue optics, but it was hardly common.

"Well . . . perhaps we should see to getting you settled in the dormitories," Octane offered, shooting a brief glare at Sunrunner.

"Yes, perhaps that would be best," she agreed, still studying the yellow warrior. He continued to put forward a show of confidence, though he could feel the doubts gnawing at him. The quiet voice that insisted Spectra was not as she appeared. But he kept his doubts silent as he watched Octane escort her out into the camp.

"You are not as I remember," Shockwave said as the door closed, leaving them in relative solitude. The former general carefully rose to his feet, suddenly reminding him of one of the outpost's donks, worn and tired from too many years of service.

"Remember?" he asked, the last word suddenly registering in his processors. His only memory of the strange Decepticon was of having a tranq pushed into his shoulder joint. There were vague half memories of the old general trying to tell him something, but like so much else from that time in his memory, he couldn't trust his processors to recall correctly.

"Much anger in you then," Shockwave murmured, carefully trimming the delicate wick of one of his lamps. "Pain, as well, but mostly anger. Uncontrollable anger and a wounded spark. The wounds are deeper, but your control is stronger. Curious."

The elder Decepticon resumed his seat at the simple table, but Sunrunner found it impossible to tell what the other was thinking. The single optic - if it could be called such - and the lack of any other face was unnerving.

"So then, Paladin, tell me why you so distrust this newcomer."

"Something doesn't fit," he confessed uneasily. "What's her story? The whole story."

"It is as I told you. She was part of a listening station. She alone was sent here; the others with her were either killed or sent to the arena, I do not know which."

"Why?"

"Of course you would not know. . . . Warriors such as you are often sent to the arenas, particularly since the return of the Lord Prime. They make a sport of combat, enjoying the sight of our warriors being slaughtered. Those who will not abide by the law of the camp also find their way to that horrible end. You are fortunate not to share their fate, my son."

"Don't trust her," he muttered, sipping his drink once more. He wasn't sure if the ex-general would listen to him or not, but it was worth the attempt. Perhaps he was being paranoid. He could think of no reason not to take Spectra at her word. All things being even, her story might even be true. But instincts demanded that things were not even.

"You offer me little reason to do as you ask."

"It just . . . it isn't right, okay?"

He could feel the anger and the frustration threatening to bubble up once more. By shear force of will, he pushed them back down. He wasn't sure why, but he knew that it was important he didn't allow himself to lose time. Not so long as he was still a prisoner. Too much was at stake.

"If you think her to be a spy among us, there is little reason for such a thing. Likewise, there is little need to worry that she will discover some great and precious secret. She knows of Megatron's survival. Tell me, Sunrunner, what more precious secret could she hope to discover?"

"I don't know," he growled, frustrated, though more with himself than with the other Decepticon. Ethereal warnings whispered through him, the first flickers of pain darting behind his optics.

"Easy . . . easy, son," a low voice murmured. "I do not take your words lightly. She said what she came to say. Allow me to worry after her, Sunrunner. You have healing to do yet."

"Healing? Didn't they. . . ?"

"Repair your body, yes. It is your spark and your mind that are yet scarred. Come now, did you think I would not know? You are not the Paladin you once may have been. This is well known to both your friend Octane and myself. Worry not, my son. We will watch over you."

Sunrunner snorted, uninterested in the other Decepticon's assurances. He did not need watching like some invalid. But when he tried to say as much, the words froze and a wave of disorientation lapped through him. For a moment, he thought he saw his sister crying in the corner of the room, then the vision was gone.

"Starchaser. . . ."

"Brother. . . ."

"She is not here. Octane fears she may be lost to us. . . ."

"No . . . no, not lost . . . only weak," he mumbled, struggling to recall his vision. He could almost hear her voice, almost see her, and yet her presense was like a phantom that was always just out of reach.

"Sunrunner. . . ."

"I must help her. . . ."

"And how would you do that, son?"

"I . . . I don't know. . . ."

An odd twinge of regret swept through him, disrupting his chain of thought. There was something he had left undone. Or was it something that he had done, but wrong? Flickers of memory taunted him with glimpses to a past he could not quite grasp. And then her voice was there again, whispering words just beyond his ability to hear. He strained to hear his sister's voice, to reach her and soothe her tears.

Hold on, Star, hold on. I'll think of something. I won't leave you, I promise.

Octane was feeling apprehensive as he silently let himself back into Shockwave's home. Something about the new detainee felt . . . wrong, for lack of a better word. His unease was not comforted by the sight that greeted him. What limited furnishings Shockwave kept in the main room had either been moved aside or taken to another room. Shockwave and Sunrunner were rather patiently trading parries and advances with segments of rebar wrapped in insulation. Where Shockwave could have obtained such things - let alone why the general would have them at all - the young spiritualist could not even begin to guess. But as he watched the two Decepticons, it quickly became apparent that, despite his many vorn of imprisonment, Shockwave was still a skilled warrior.

"All right, son, that's enough for now," the cyclopean warrior rumbled, stepping back from his younger sparring partner. Sunrunner hardly looked satisfied, but for a wonder the sulky warrior did not argue. Instead, he claimed the makeshift sparring weapon Shockwave held out to him and retreated to one of the rear rooms, muttering something about wanting to lay down for a few hours.

"Do you think that wise?" Octane murmured as he helped the general shift his rough-hewn table back into it's customary position. "Particularly when his warrior leanings have already placed him in such danger?"

"It is in his spark. To deny him an outlet for his warrior instincts is only asking for disaster. But I think you worry too much, my son. It is doubtful anything short of another attempted escape could put Sunrunner's life in danger.

"Now then, what about Spectra has you troubled?"

"How did you know?" Octane asked in surprise, stopping dead in his tracks.

"I would not be worthy of the trust placed in me time and time again by the leaders of our rebellion if I had not learned how to read the soldiers serving under my command. Something about her troubles you. I would appreciate it if you would tell me what it is."

"She's lying to us, Shockwave. About how much, I can't be certain. I can't even fathom why . . . but she is lying."

"Sunrunner agrees . . . as do I. I will ask Blurr about her, but somehow I doubt he will have anything to add."

Octane nodded, uncertain what to say as he shifted the other bench back over to the table. Working for Shockwave had it's advantages; as the community leader, Shockwave was not required to work shifts in the factories, thus Octane, as his personal assistant, was similarly excused. He appreciated the privileged status, but he had to wonder why Shockwave had chosen him, particularly since it seemed the elder general had never had an assistant before.

"Something troubles you, my son?"

"I suppose I should have known you'd see right through my silence," he replied with a slightly forced chuckle. "It's just . . . well, I've been talking to our people and. . . . Why me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't have a personal assistant before me . . . but you named me your adjutant almost as soon as you saw me. Why? You knew nothing about me. . . ."

"I knew Irradia trusted you. Whatever she later became, she was once a good friend."

"You're kidding. . . ."

"I am not. She was once under my command, one of my better operatives. It was by my orders that she was sent into Iacon. I fear I am in part responsible for what she has become."

"You . . . you didn't force her to abandon the cause," Octane murmured, uneasy with Shockwave's confession.

"Perhaps not, but I was the one who sent her into the very heart of the Empire . . . where she was captured by Ultra Magnus and where she became his slave. . . .

"But before she was turned, she was a warm and gentle being. In her spark, that Irradia still lingers. I confess, I took a risk with you. But as you knew them it seemed . . . an acceptable margin for error."

"I still don't understand why. There is nothing I do for you that you could not do as well for yourself, perhaps even better. Not that I don't appreciate your generosity, of course, but . . . I would like to understand. . . ."

The other Decepticon said nothing for a time, patiently tending the lamps of the outer room. Even after two months of service, Octane still had a difficult time judging the ex-general's moods. But he had learned that patience would be rewarded; Shockwave rarely left a question unanswered.

"You would not have lasted long on your own, Octane. As she was once a close friend, I thought you deserved some measure of kindness. It would seem that I made a wiser choice than even I knew; had I not taken you in, who would be here for Sunrunner now?"

Octane found himself chuckling softly as he watched the elder warrior cross the room to join him at the table. He was struck by how old Shockwave suddenly seemed, the way he moved with exaggerated care. Given the way he had been sparring with Sunrunner when Octane returned, he wasn't sure what to think of this suddenly aged general.

"He wants to save his sister," Octane sighed.

"Yes, I know," Shockwave replied somberly. "He may not be with us for long. . . ."

"I thought you said. . . ."

"That his life is not at risk? I did . . . and it is not. But his time with us is likely limited. She will not tolerate his loss for long. Nor, I fear, will he."

"I . . . I don't understand."

"So high is Blurr's regard for me that I met him once before . . . but he was not Paladin then, nor Sunrunner even."

"Shockwave . . . you're not making any sense."

"He who sleeps . . . was once known on this world as Avenger.

Octane sighed and gave up. When Shockwave was in one of his obscure moods, it was nearly impossible to get a straight answer from him in any case. He wished he could understand what the senior Decepticon was saying. If his friend was in danger, he wanted to help. Perhaps the elders of the camp were right to think of him as naive, but he had already learned there were only two places for Decepticon warriors on Cybertron: in the prison camps or in the arena. He did not want his friend being sent to his death if there was anything he could do to prevent it.

"Octane, believe me when I say they will not kill him.

"Because they fear to make him a martyr, yes, so you have said."

"No, Octane, there is more. Your friend . . . he is heir-apparent to the dreadlord Ultra Magnus. Should he ever succeed in dethroning the Prime. . . ."

"How. . . ? No . . . no, it's not possible. . . ."

"It is possible, for it is the truth. What you choose to do now that you know the truth . . . that I must leave in your hands, my son."

Shockwave rose to his feet with exaggerated care, nodding once before walking out of the building. Octane sat at the table, staring into the dancing flame of one of the oil lamps Shockwave always kept lit. Shockwave would not lie, but the thought that Sunrunner could be the heir of someone like Ultra Magnus. . . . He felt as if everything he had ever known was turned on it's head.

He didn't know how long he sat in meditation before a shadow settled over him. A yellow arm suddenly interrupted his line of sight, startling him into jerking back . . . and nearly crashing into Sunrunner. The yellow warrior smiled down at him and for a moment, it was as if they were back at the outpost.

"Deep thoughts?"

"Of a sort, yes," he confessed with a half smile, watching the other mech sit on the bench across from him.

"Feel like sharing?"

"You were built on the outpost, weren't you?"

"My memory is a mess and you're asking me questions about my past, 'Tane?" the other mech sighed heavily. He mumbled an apology, watching his companion toy with an empty glass. Then Sunrunner sighed once more, scooting back on the bench to lean against the wall.

"I used to think I was . . . but then Irradia said something about me being solely my sire's creation. As much as I can't trust my memory . . . I know that's the truth. I wish it wasn't. . . ."

"Why?"

"Because . . . I know who he is now."

"And you wish it were anyone else. . . ."

"How'd you know?"

"Shockwave. . . ."

"Figures," the paladin sighed. "He knows pretty much everything, doesn't he?"

"There are times when it seems like it, yes," Octane replied, trying to inject some humor into the moment. From the look on his friend's face, he had failed rather miserably.

"He's going to kill me, you know," Sunrunner murmured casually after an extended silence.

"Shockwave disagrees."

"In this one instance, I'd say the general's being a sentimental fool. Ultra Magnus will find some way of breaking Paladin's hold on our people . . . and once he has, I will be terminated."

"No you won't. By the Maker, 'Runner, you're his heir! You may be the last chance our people have."

"Hah! What use is an heir to one who plans to live forever?"

"You may be our last hope. . . ."

Sunrunner didn't speak and Octane didn't know what more to say. Perhaps the yellow warrior was right, perhaps he was bound for an execution. But he had to cling to whatever thin sliver of hope he could find. And right now the only hope he could see was the slender chance that Sunrunner might live long enough to influence . . . something.

Sacred All-Father, he prayed fervently, if it be Thy will, grant that this child of yours might have the voice to sway the power of the Empire. He may yet be the last hope of a broken nation. On his fragile wings and Your divine providence do we place all of our prayers. . . .

Irradia stormed into her mate's office, her anger only barely held in check. The warlord and Hot Spot were bent over his desk, studying an actual, physical map, but both mechs straightened as she stalked into the room. Irritation flashed through Hot Spot's optics, but Lord Magnus remained unruffled.

"You bastard!" she hissed, slapping her much larger bondmate. He did not so much as even flinch, the clang of metal striking metal filling the air. Hot Spot silently slipped from the room as she stood there, glaring up at her mate. Still he remained emotionless.

"Dammit, say something!" she growled, moving to slap him again. This time he caught her arm in mid-strike, but his face still remained an emotionless mask. She tried to pull herself free, but Ultra Magnus was stronger, holding her in place and beyond her ability to actually strike him.

"You bastard! I trusted you!"

"Irradia, calm yourself. There is no reason for you to be acting this way."

"No reason? No REASON?!?! You BASTARD!"

His hands clamped down tighter, threatening to leave dents, and still she fought against him. She wanted him to fight her, to yell at her. To do anything but stand there like a statue, absorbing her anger like a stone wall, until she had nothing left. Shaking and drained, she would have collapsed if he hadn't been still holding her. Only then did he relax, pulling her closer to him.

"Hush, my dark one," he murmured softly, stroking the back of her head lightly. "Is this any way for my bonded Consort to be behaving?"

"Then tell me you didn't send Spectra into the camps to kill my son."

"I sent her to deliver a message. One they apparently already possessed. Care to explain that?"

"You already know how it happened. . . . But you had to have more reason than that for consigning one of your operatives to the labor camps. If all you wanted was to let the Decepticons know of Megatron's survival, you could have as easily ordered Blurr to share that information with Shockwave."

"Perhaps, but then I would not have someone there to watch over my son, would I?" he replied quietly, gentle fingers brushing against her cheek. She sighed softly, unable to stop herself from leaning into the caress. It eased her mind to hear him refer to Sunrunner as his son.

"Please, my mate, give him back to me. . . ."

"He has hardly earned the privilege. If he were to escape again, I would have little choice but to kill him this time," the warlord rumbled. He lifted her chin gently, capturing her gaze easily with his own burning azure optics.

"Have patience, Irradia. When I can be certain he will not force my hand, then he will be returned to your care. If only because he has no place in the camps."

"Such generosity," she sneered quietly.

"He is my son. But you changed him once. Perhaps you can change him again."

"I will not fail you."

"I know you won't."

Sunrunner sat at the back of Shockwave's home and stared up at the stars. Octane, like the good little priest he was, had agreed to give him his space, remaining inside for Shockwave's return. He wasn't sure why he was sitting out here; there wasn't much to see. Squat shacks and what he assumed were factories, but nothing taller than a single story. It confused him at first, until he realized that the low buildings gave the guard towers a better overview of the camps. Which probably also meant that the actual factories and dormitories were beneath the apparent surface.

That would explain why it's so quiet, he chuckled silently. He let his gaze drift around the camp, absorbing the layout and noting weaknesses. Not that there were many . . . aside from the very open sky stretched above them. He could only assume that some sort of visible barrier lurked there as well - foolish as the Autobots could be, they would not be that foolish.

The stars twinkled and winked down at him, a welcome relief to the otherwise limitless depth of black space. Thinking about the endless darkness made him shudder, forced him to lower his gaze. It was stupid - he had a spaceworthy alternate mode - but the empty black made his core seize up in terror. He could remember another empty darkness that laughed at his weakness, laughed at his pain. A host of voices, but especially his, laughing and taunting and promising death but never actually delivering that final oblivion. And the pain. . . .

"Sunrunner? 'Runner, are you okay?"

Sunrunner blinked up at Octane myopically, a little confused by the other's presence. The spiritualist had promised to give him his space, to let him stay outside alone as long as he wished. Either that had been a lie, or . . . or he had lost time. Again. He couldn't keep doing that . . . he needed every precious moment if he was going to win his way free of this hell.

"Hey 'Runner, say something. . . ."

"Octane, I thought you said you were going to let me stay out here as long as I wanted. . . ."

"Yeah, you're fine all right. And I have. You've been out here for the entire shift. Shockwave thought you might want to come in, have something to drink. When you didn't respond. . . ."

"Guess I was lost in thought," he replied, forcing himself to smile. He ruthlessly suppressed the terror that threatened to claw up at the knowledge that he had lost more time; terror was what had caused him to black out in the first place.

"Come on, 'Runner. I know you're not exactly the social type, but. . . ."

"I'll be right with you," he replied quietly. Rising to his feet slowly, he gazed up at the stars once more. The shift was slight, but it was enough to give him a clearer sense of his lost time. Something in the stars whispered down to him, a surprisingly soothing, wordless voice that somehow still managed to speak of hope and courage. And a danger that yet lay ahead, a critical choice that would either exault him higher or destroy him.

With the stars as my witness, I will not fail, he vowed silently. I will not fail my people. The Empire will feel my wrath and they will know the judgement of Paladin is upon them.

The stars shimmered in silence, unimpressed with his vows. The wordless warning hung in the air, but he set it aside. When the time came, Sunrunner was confident he would make the right choice. He could do no less - his very spark depended upon it.

Sunrunner spent the better part of the week staring down boredom and trying to hide his flashbacks from Shockwave and Octane. While he was reasonably certain he had the priest fooled, he had his doubts where the general was concerned. But inasmuch as he seemed disinclined to discuss Sunrunner's trouble, the yellow warrior was more than happy to let it go.

He was sitting behind the ex-general's home once more, just listening to the sounds of the camp and trying not to think too hard about anything. He would have much preferred doing . . . well, just about anything else, to be honest, but his guardians were quite adamant that he wasn't fully recovered yet. Considering their insistence was keeping him out of the factories, Sunrunner supposed that he ought not to complain too hard. So he kept his frustration to himself and spent his days in meditation. Having never seen himself as having the right temperament for a priest, the forced inactivity was grating. At least Shockwave was willing to trade sparring rounds with him, from time to time.

"Hey 'Runner . . . mind some company?"

"Why do you ask when you know you're going to stay anyway?"

"Look, if it really bothers you that much, just say so. It's not like I don't have other things I could be doing. . . ."

"Hey, you're the big important adjutant to General Shockwave. You don't have to hang around on my account."

"You do know I'm trying to help you, right?" Octane asked with a sigh.

"I'm fine," he growled back.

"No you aren't. And if you think you are, then you're only fooling yourself. If you were fine, you wouldn't be having nightmares."

"Who says I'm having nightmares?"

"You haven't slept well since you first arrived."

"I don't like just sitting here. You know that."

"True. I also know you're covering. We know what happened to you, 'Runner. No one will think less of you for admitting to your problems. We want to help you, but you have to meet us at least part of the way."

"Maybe I don't need your help," he rumbled back sulkily.

"Your misplaced sense of pride has always been your greatest weakness," Octane sighed as he turned back towards the modest dwelling. "Paladin would ask for help.

"There is no Paladin . . . and you know it," he sighed, not meeting the other's gaze. He stared at his hands, trying to figure out just what was wrong with him. Octane was right; the old Sunrunner would have asked for help, welcomed it even. Perhaps it was as simple as he had been spurned too many times, offered too many promises of help that had proven no better than tufts of air. So many times he thought he had seen a hand stretched out to him, offering to release him from the pain and rescue him from the darkness. . . .

"Stop being a fool and grab my hand! You can have anything . . . everything you've ever wanted and more. . . ."

He stared, dumbfounded, at the patch of artificial light, only barely wider than the arm pushed through it. How long had he been in the darkness with only the gibbering shadows for company, only his own optics for illumination? Could he truly be nearly free? Could it truly be so simple?

Like a drunkard, he staggard to his feet, lurching back against the wall as his gyroscopes wobbled disconcertingly. They should have been fixed by now . . . but it was so hard to get a grounded reading. The walls . . . it was like they weren't even there, his sensors reaching out into endless blackness. He knew they were there, fifty paces by fifty paces, but any time he stopped touching them. . . . And how far away was that hand? Above his head, he could tell that much, but the ceiling was as sensor-masked as the walls and the floor. He had no sense of perspective.

"Last chance . . . hurry up! They'll let you out, but you have to take my hand!"

He pushed off the floor, reaching for the hand that invaded his cell. He tried to ignore the jeering voices from the shadows. This time it was real. It had to be. . . .

Then another voice joined the shadow chorus, laughing along with them. He knew that laugh, felt himself cringing away even though he had lost all sense of direction. 'Too late,' the voice taunted as he reached out only to clasp empty air.

'Did you really think anyone would save you, death knight?' the voice rasped as the window of light vanished and he found himself back on the floor. 'Fool. Only now do you see how alone you truly are. . . . How unloved . . . unwanted . . . unworthy of any kindness. Such is the fate of all who turn their backs on us, dark prince. No mercy . . . no salvation . . . only everlasting torment. . . .'

"No . . . NO!"

"NO!"

"Easy, son, easy," a gentle voice murmured. Sunrunner shuttered his optics against the sudden flood of light, unable to tolerate the abrupt shift from utter emptiness to the comparatively cluttered environs of . . . he wasn't entirely sure where he was. Somewhere with light, sound . . . and so many things his radar map was lit up like a switchboard.

"Easy, son. You are safe now, Sunrunner, with friends," the voice repeated. "What you saw was the past . . . a part of your life that is over now. You are safe here, I promise."

"Safe," he repeated to himself quietly. He could feel his internal equilibrium returning and he pushed down his other sensor input feeds as he unshuttered his optics. A part of him felt as though he should know the violet Decepticon before him, but the name escaped him. But the one behind him . . . that one he knew. Knew well enough to be wary of any assurance he might offer. Octane wouldn't know true safety if it bit him. How he knew that, he wasn't sure, but he was relatively certain it was true. As certain as one can be about anything when faced with the frustration of untrustworthy memory recall. For while he could not recall how he had come to be in this place, Sunrunner had the feeling that he should be able to remember.

"Another flashback?"

"I . . . I'm fine. I just need some space," he mumbled, avoiding looking at either of them by staring at the floor intently. He would have been lying if he said the flashback didn't worry him. The Autobots had done something to him, changed him somehow. And he wasn't at all sure he was going to like what he became. There were too many things about his entire situation that felt . . . wrong somehow. Too many questions . . . and no way to get his answers so long as he remained a prisoner.

". . . think I'll forget this."

"That sounded disturbingly like a threat, Blurr. . . ."

Octane watched as the camp warden glowered at Irradia, not the least bit interested in getting between them. Particularly not when Blurr was in a vicious mood . . . which seemed to happen any time Irradia's name was even mentioned, let alone her actually being in the same room. It didn't help matters that he was here as a replacement of sorts. Blurr was unlikely to be happy with that.

"I distinctly remember sending for Shockwave, not you," Blurr hissed, never actually turning away from Irradia.

"He is currently otherwise occupied," he replied automatically, cringing inside as the words left his mouth. In a normal situation, it would have been the right thing to say. Even as a prisoner, Shockwave was still a general with many responsibilities. But this was hardly a normal situation . . . and he was beginning to regret ever opening his mouth.

"This was not a request for his presence," Blurr growled, whirling around to grab Octane by the throat in a move too fast for him to track. "When I send for someone, I expect them to appear, not send some runner lackey to do it for them. Perhaps you both need reminders of just who is running things around here. . . ."

He could feel the Autobot's hand tightening around his throat, threatening to crush it with his bare hand. Intellectually, Octane knew it was a bluff; Blurr was fast, possessing all the speed and agility of the infamous couriers, but he was not particularly strong. There was no way he could actually crush his throat. But instincts refused to listen to such reasons, sending panic through his systems.

"P-paladin," he croaked, hoping the single word would be enough. Blurr loosened his grip enough to give him a brief surge of hope. Then his frown swiftly changed from mere irritation to outright hate.

"What did you say?" he demanded coldly.

"Paladin. He's with Paladin," Octane confessed, seeing the error of his admission as the hatred burned hotter in Blurr's optics. Oh yeah, sure, tell him the general bowed out to spend more time with the most threatening person in the Decepticon camps. What was I thinking? Okay, so I wasn't, obviously. . . . Lesson learned? Autobots and the truth don't mix.

"And just what is he doing with that bastard that he deems staying with him is more important that responding to a summons? Do I smell conspiracy on you, scuttler, or just terror?"

"Enough, Blurr," Irradia murmured, her expression colder than the depths of space. Octane wasn't sure if he was grateful for her intervention or not. Particularly since he doubted her benevolence would be free.

"This is still my domain, Irradia," the warden rumbled darkly, glaring up at his more immediate rival.

"And I said enough. The sooner you release him, the sooner you can go back to pretending Paladin never existed. I'm sure you'd like that. . . .

"Octane, tell the general his time is up. He's had his best chance. I'm sure he'll know what I mean. . . ."

Octane was a little surprised to actually be released, but he wasted no time leaving the administration building. One learned quickly that swiftness was the only way to deal with Autobot demands if one didn't want to be smelted on the spot. Or worse, disciplined in some heinously creative new way.

"I must have been mad. . . ."

"And why is that, my son?" Shockwave rumbled, startling the spiritualist; he hadn't realized he had spoken aloud.

"To have ever thought her a gracious spirit," he confessed quietly, his gaze flitting around the room in a desparate attempt to look at anything but Shockwave. "She is as cold, callous, and cruel as the rest of them."

"Perhaps. I take it my time has passed."

"That's what she said, yeah. And something about you having had your best chance. For what, she didn't say . . . but she seemed to think you'd know anyway."

"Aye, that I do, my son," Shockwave sighed, his entire frame sagging suddenly at the weight of something only he truly knew. "I think I knew from the time they were created that this day would come. I'd had such hope when she fled the Empire in disgrace all those long vorn past. . . ."

"I don't understand. . . ."

"Don't ask me to explain, Octane," the general replied, his tone distressingly dull. "I don't know that I could refuse you and this knowledge is something I would wish upon no one.

"Sunrunner! Come along, son. Your destiny awaits. . . ."

Sunrunner walked into the administration building, mindful of the promises he had made to Shockwave the day before. The tensions in the room assaulted him like a physical blow, momentarily staggering him with the knowledge that he was at the core of this dissension.

"Well . . . so good of you to join us, Shockwave," the camp warden sneered. Sunrunner caught himself balling his hands into fists and swiftly pushed aside the thought of pounding the sneer off Blurr's face. Even with the former courier's speed, he was confident he could take him out. But he had promised Shockwave that he would do what he could to keep himself out of trouble. Which, unfortunately, meant that he couldn't give in to the urge to teach Blurr some respect.

But how do I know all this? he asked himself suddenly. Before walking into the building, he had been having difficulty just remembering the warden's name. And Shockwave had never mentioned anything about the blue Autobot's past.

"Do I need to ask for a formal prisoner transfer escort, 'Runner, or can we be civilized about this?" Irradia asked softly, a ghost of her old smile lighting her optics.

"I've given my word that I won't make any trouble," he replied, equally quiet. He glanced sidelong at Blurr, a move that was apparently not lost on either the warden or the one he had called "mother" for most of his life.

"Let me worry about him, son," she murmured, her voice only barely audible to him. "You'll have plenty of other things to worry yourself over."

"Like destiny?"

"Quite likely," she agreed with an assessing look. He remained impassive, waiting for her to make the first move. She seemed to be waiting for something, but he couldn't even begin to fathom what.

"Did you use your time well, general?" she asked suddenly, still holding Sunrunner's gaze with her own.

"As well as possible, all things considered. I would have liked for more . . . or better circumstances . . . but it is said that those who beg must not be picky over what others give them. Neither Time nor Fate can be made to wait for anyone, not even Dreadlord Magnus."

"So it is. . . . I assume, Blurr, that you can at least manage to file your own paperwork properly without my supervision, so I shall leave you to it.

"Your generosity is uninspiring," the blue mech grumbled, but he offered no other protest as Sunrunner joined Irradia and walked out of the building. She watched him closely as they stepped outside, as if waiting for something. They weren't more than three paces from the building when she suddenly started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Blurr was expecting you to be incapacitated by now. First Aid must have removed the control chip when he was repairing you."

"Control chip?"

"Surely the great Paladin spent at least some time wondering why prisoners couldn't walk out the front door. Easy access to the administrative building for half the wards, but the security in there looks to be less than adequate to really keep someone out."

"I asked Shockwave about it. He said no one had ever escaped, but wouldn't say why the attempts had failed." "The control chips. Every prisoner is implanted during pre-internment processing. It activates once you cross the threshold of the camp. After that, you're lucky if you can go three paces without falling to your knees from the pain."

"No wonder the guard towers are so sparse. Open sky with an invisible frontier. Impressive," he confessed, shaking his head ruefully. He had suspected the camp had some form of electronic barrier, but this wasn't at all what he had been thinking.

"Can I trust you to fly home with me?"

"The great Paladin gave his word to obey his warden," he grumbled, his amusement turning sour.

"I take no joy in being your keeper, Sunrunner, but so long as it is necessary. . . ."

"Spare me your lies. I know why you've come for me. Know that where I go, others will follow. The rebellion may be in ashes, but the cause lives on. Even this empire shall live it's time and die."

"And who will lead when the Empire is dead? Megatron and his band of renegades on Earth? They would plunge entire star systems into chaos with their crusade, because they're too blind to see what is before their very optics.

"Remeber what Shockwave taught you, Sunrunner. You may yet need every last lesson."

He wanted to argue with her, but she turned away, transforming as she lifted into the air. Sunrunner swallowed back an enraged scream, glaring up at her as she hovered overhead, then followed her into the sky. He had promised he would obey and keep himself out of trouble. Had he known at the time how hard it was going to be, he might not have been so eager to take his oath.

Remember why you're doing this, he scolded himself. Whether you're the last hope or not, you'll be in a position to learn a great deal that could be used to bring about the end of the Empire's reign of terror.

Irradia was in that position too, another, familiar voice taunted. Look what it did to her. What makes you think you'll escape with your soul when she couldn't? Foolish youth . . . will you be the lich king in your sire's stead?

I am not my sire, he growled back silently. No death knight, nor dark prince. He may have given me life, but I choose my own path. I will not be corrupted by the evils of the Empire. I am Paladin. My faith shall be my shield, my righteous wrath my sword.

The voice was silent, but he had the feeling that, rather than being convinced, it was simply biding it's time, waiting for another argument.

I will not falter as she did, he vowed once more. With the Maker as my witness, I will serve the righteous all the days of my life.

Though he was granted any number of freedoms, Sunrunner saw his gilded cage for what it was. He was a prisoner, held as much by his promise to Shockwave as any strength of arms or threat of violence. Still, he had to admit, the heart of the Imperial Palace was not at all as he had expected. Quiet, peaceful . . . the stronghold that was the very heart of the Autobot Empire was a lush haven, a far cry from the militant installation he had imagined. He found himself thrust into a world of such comfort and leisure that it made Shockwave's home look like a humble shack, save for one critical difference. While he had grown increasingly uncomfortable with gazing up at the stars, at least in the camps he could see the sky. The Lair was buried so deep within the Imperial Palace that it had no windows. With Irradia's patronage, however, he and his sister had been granted limited access to the simulation decks. They couldn't run combat or training simulations, but at least they could run some nature programs, relieving the oppressiveness of the Lair's enclosing environment. It was one aspect of his life that was improved over huddling in the prison camp - it gave him a chance to fly again. And after nearly five months of being grounded, it felt good to be able to stretch his wings again.

At the moment, he was standing on the shore of a massive lake, watching the fading light of an alien sun color the waters in dark purples, reds, and oranges. On the far side of the lake, a triple waterfall tumbled through a dam, the water dropping over a kilometer before churning up the lake below. Two other waterfalls added their dull roar from the cliffs above the dam, creating a unique scene. It was Nedjit, Starchaser's favorite simulation. His sister was actually standing under the lesser fall of the uppermost cataract, apparently enjoying the cascade of water falling on her head and shoulders.

"Are you just gonna stand around like a statue?" his sister asked as she landed lightly beside him a few moments later. "Come on, 'Runner. The whole point of these sims is to get out and fly. Race?"

"You'll lose," he replied, at last allowing a gentle smile to touch his optics. She smiled back at him, violet optics shimmering. She was a curious mix of greytones and void, the black of her transform panels reflecting nothing. Even without the cloak, her sensor echo was often distorted by the nonreflecting paint she used.

"Only if I let you win," she taunted with a laugh, flashing the hand sign for coward before taking to the air and transforming.

"I'll show you who's a coward!" he shouted, taking to the air after her.

Irradia nestled against her mate's chest, listening to the unique rhythms his body produced, the quiet song of his lifeforce. As his administrative assistant and partner, her life was nearly as busy as his own, thus they saw little of each other in anything but business settings. So she cherished the moments she was allowed to spend just being with Ultra Magnus, sitting quietly and simply enjoying each other's company. Invariably, they did not last long.

"Does your plan yet bear fruit, my mate?" Ultra Magnus murmured in a gentle rumble.

"He has your stubbornness in full measure, oh mate of mine," she replied with a quiet smile. "He is slow to change, but the seeds have been sown. He has made no attempt at escape, nor does Starchaser sense from him any thoughts of doing so. Now that they have the limited freedom to use the simulation decks . . . he will begin to see the Empire as we wish him to see it, not as the rebellion has preached to him."

"Will he turn? Or are you wasting my time?"

"He does nothing to stand against you. Why are you so anxious to have him killed?"

"He is a threat to me, you know this Irradia. If he cannot be made an ally. . . ."

"You created Avenger, sparked him from yourself, that you might have a loyal guardian in your son. You created him to think critically before swearing loyalty, to change his allegiances slowly, so that you could entrust him with your secrets. You shouldn't complain because he is what you wished him to be. The name changed, not the person beneath, I don't care what rumors you may have heard."

Azure flame licked through Ultra Magnus's optics, then a low laugh rumbled out of him. He leaned close to kiss her forehead, a rueful smile touching his optics.

"You are right, of course," he conceded. "I should know better than to doubt you."

"I have given you ample cause in the past," she replied softly.

"True . . . but that is the past. You are my bonded mate; what secrets could you yet keep from me?"

"None," she acknowledged with a smile, fingertips brushing his cheek. "Nor would I wish to keep any from you, my mate. I dwelt long enough in darkness; I am more than ready to spend the rest of my days in your light."

Starchaser settled into her personal corner of the apartment, a curious mix of study room and shrine. She had always taken comfort from the incense of the shrines. Now that she had access to the Empire's vast resources, she spoiled herself with the occasional cone for her own comfort. She only hoped the scent of incense and lamp oil would be enough to settle her thoughts.

According to her mother, she owed First Aid . . . a great deal. Through the hidden language of Sekuu, the game that was not a game, they had exchanged a number of promises. Most of them had been negated, one way or another. What remained were promises she didn't like to consider. Promises to see no one else, to touch no one else but him. Promises to spend time with him. Promises to do as he asked, to submit to his authority.

He had made promises and concessions as well, but as the victor of their games, nearly all of his were relegated to optional. All but one, and that one only because it was so bound in her promises: she was not honor-bound to her promises until he called her on them. That small fact seemed to be enough to quell Irradia's anger, to a point. She had promised that she would talk to First Aid and . . . explain to him the dangers of expecting something from one who had not known what she was doing.

Starchaser didn't know what she thought of her mother's attitude and protection. Certainly, she agreed that it would be wrong for First Aid to expect her to deliever on her promises, particularly if she had no way of knowing what had been promised. On the other hand, now that she did know . . . and she knew only because he had thought to mention the game to Irradia. In the end, he had wanted her to know the truth. Perhaps fear of her sire would keep him from ever acting on their games. But it wouldn't change what she knew, nor would it change the sense of obligation that nipped at her. Knowing or not, she had promised herself to him.

"Sis? Gah, Star, what's with all the incense?"

"Heh . . . sorry, 'Runner. It helps me relax, that's all."

"After all that racing around, you need help relaxing?"

"Well . . . you got me all riled," she teased.

"Uh huh. Right . . . whatever. . . ."

"Bro . . . can I ask you a . . . a hypothetical question?"

"Of course you can, Star," he replied, lowering himself into one of her chairs. She smiled, reassured to hear his old humor in his voice. He had been in such chaos for so long . . . she still wasn't entirely sure how he had survived it all. She knew he had not escaped unchanged, but for the moment, he seemed to be the same brother she had always known.

"Well . . . say someone promises something. Something personal. Only she doesn't know she's making promises at the time, she thinks it's just meaningless . . . stuff. And then she finds out, before he can call her on the promises she didn't know she'd made. . . ."

"If you're trying to ask me if you're honor-bound to fulfill those promises . . . you cannot be honorably expected to make good on promises you were not aware of making."

"Even when the only reason I know what they are at all is because he said something when he didn't have to?"

"So we are talking about something you did. . . . Who tricked you, Star?"

"He hasn't really tricked me yet . . . Our sire would probably kill him if he knew what had happened. According to the exchange, I'm not honor-bound until he asks; that was his promise to me . . . and he may never ask. . . . "

"But you think you may owe him anyway, because of the old ways?"

"Mostly I'm just very confused," she sighed. She kept careful control of her thoughts, even though her brother really had no knowledge of how to use their link. Still, she dared not let him know that she wouldn't necessarily mind being indebted to First Aid, in part because the truth of it terrified her.

"He made sure you knew what had happened, albeit after the fact. Whoever this mysterious person is, he wanted you to know what was owed, perhaps knowing he could never ask and so hoping you would, having learned what had happened, feel a sense of obligation to him anyway. From where I sit, if you owe him anything, it's a serious beating for trying to make you indebted to him without your active consent."

But what about my passive consent . . . that I would have freely given, she wondered silently.

"Star, tell me who did this to you and I'll take care of him."

"You'll do nothing of the sort. For one thing, you aren't allowed to carry anymore, remember?"

"I don't need a gun," her brother growled menacingly.

"If you did do something to him, they'd send you back to the camps. Is that really what you want?"

Starchaser mentally kicked herself as she watched her brother shaking at the thought of returning to the prison camps. She knew even mentioning the slave camps could cause her brother to lapse into terrified whimpering. It was a cruel thing to do, mentioning them again, but she knew it would make him forget what they had been discussing. And from the way he had been talking, she didn't dare let him remember.

"I'm sorry, 'Runner," she whispered, hugging her shaking brother.

"Star?"

"I'm here, Brother," she whispered. "It's all over now; you're safe here."

"Over . . . safe," he echoed weakly, leaning against her.

"I'm sorry. I promise, we'll go flying again later, okay?"

"Flying. . . ?"

"If you want, but later, okay?"

"Later . . . yes. . . ."

Starchaser helped her brother to his own private sanctuary in the apartment, sitting with him while he struggled to regain his sense of self. She could feel the chaos in his mind, feel the conflict as his shattered mind fought with itself, but she was uncertain what she could do to help him. Clasping his hand gently to let him know she was there, she just hoped her presence would be enough.

As words scrolled across his screen unread, Ultra Magnus found himself once more regretting the necessary brevity of his dailance with his bonded mate. Particularly since Irradia had seemed . . . preoccupied with something. Though she claimed to have no desire to keep secrets from him, he still sensed there was something she wasn't telling him. He would have the truth from her . . . eventually. He saw no reason to rush things; it could be as simple as her wishing to attend some matter personally instead of seeking his assistance. Inasmuch as she was his Consort, he could hardly begrudge her that right.

"My Liege, forgive the interruption, but it was thought you would want this immediately."

"Stop mincing words, Rewind."

"The Telepath Guild report from Earth, my Liege," the courier-archivist murmured, handing over the report. Ultra Magnus scanned the document, then scowled as he reread it more carefully. In light of the recent slow-down in the conquest of Earth and the ongoing difficulties with accessing the secure server collective, Lord Prime intended to return to Iacon for a time. The paranoid warlord had not yet decided when he would make his appearance, though he intended it to be relatively soon. He also, according to the guild report, had no intention of telling Ultra Magnus he was coming until he had actually arrived, hoping to catch his regent in an act of sedition.

"Rewind!"

"Yes, Liege?"

"Inform the Guild that I have a message for their plant."

"By your command, Liege," the cassette replied with a low bow, scurrying about his assignment. Ultra Magnus glowered at the report in his hands. He could have a quartex or more to prepare. Or the obnoxious prat could be in orbit in a fraction of that time. With all the difficulties with the guild and his son, he had yet to find the time to properly plan an assassination. He doubted he would have the time anytime soon, either. Which meant finding a safe place for Irradia. He was in no hurry to discover what might happen should the two of them cross verbal swords.

"Ægis, summon Remix to my office."

"As you command, sir. Sir, your medic is wishing to speak with you. Shall I send him in?"

"Yes, send him in and hold my calls," he replied, curious and moderately surprised. First Aid entered his office, his posture suggesting a bit of nervousness, but it was very subtle.

"What can I do for you, First Aid?"

"My lord . . . I know we have had this discussion once before . . . but it seemed appropriate to speak with you once more. I would like your permission to court your daughter, my lord."

"I see," Magnus replied enigmatically, leaning back in his chair. "After our last discussion, I was under the impression that you didn't particularly think you needed my permission. . . ."

"I . . . misspoke, my lord. . . ."

"Is that so?" the warlord mused lightly, unconvinced. First Aid was not the sort to misspeak, particularly not about something as important as this. Which left him feeling suspicious.

"Your blessing would also help smooth over the differences between myself and Irradia . . . and your son."

"Now we get to the truth of the matter," Magnus rumbled with a faint smile. "So tell me, First Aid, what have you done that should make my Consort so wary of your intentions towards my daughter?"

"I do not know," he replied smoothly, apparently expecting the question.

"Come now, First Aid, you are a better judge of people than that. Surely you must have some idea. . . ."

The Lair's chief medic paused a moment as if carefully selecting his words. Or else trying to gauge what Ultra Magnus knew of the situation. Ultra Magnus remained completely impassive, feigning patience for the medic's response.

"Starchaser has a very . . . submissive personality. There are some in the Empire who would abuse her temperament for their own ends. Irradia knows this as well as you or I, so I suppose she is wary of my intentions for that reason. Your daughter has a unique gift for invoking protective instinct."

"Mm. You may court her, First Aid, but do not think that this means I have forgotten my earlier promise. If you hurt her, you will pay for your mistake."

"As I said previously, my lord, my intentions are purely honorable and hurting her could not be further from my mind."

"See that it remains that way. Dismissed."

First Aid bowed his head as part of his salute, then turned and walked out of the office. Ultra Magnus wondered at the medic's self-confidence. As well as he had known Darkmist, this Starchaser she had become was subtly yet intrisically different. More skittish, he saw in his daughter a dependance on others that worried him.

Silence descended on the outer office suddenly, drawing his attention by the lack of the normal buzz of murmuring voices and clacking keys. Only a handful of people could create such total silence. As he pondered the possible identity of his guest, the door slid open to admit Remix. The silence of worry, then, he thought to himself. Remix was as capable a spy-messenger as any of the cassettes, but her red optics marked her as someone unique in the depths of the Lair. Moreover, he rarely used her for anything but communications with the Guild, since she was technically a member of the Guild in addition to a part of his staff. She made no secret of her loyalty to Morpheus; however, Ultra Magnus knew she would rather die than be caught between warlord and guild master.

"You sent for me, Liege?"

"Yes. I am reassigning you to Irradia's staff."

"Liege?"

"With the Prime returning, she will have more need of your skills than I. You will learn everything you can about each of the Empire's subject star systems, particularly Alpha Nathis. You will also familiarize yourself with the workings of both Khazla- and Nezca-class starships."

"If I may be so bold, Liege, may I ask why?"

"My Consort will be touring the Empire as my representative; she will need someone with current knowledge of the subject worlds. Your talent for hearing what is left unsaid will also be of great value to her."

Remix bowed her head in acknowledgment of such high praise.

"Then if there is nothing else, my Liege. . . ."

"One last thing, Remix. You will take Render with you."

"S-sir?" the confused Femme sputtered.

"Render's infiltration abilities may prove necessary."

"But sir . . . Render cannot be trusted."

"Do you expect me to believe you have no method of controlling her?"

"No . . . no, of course we do," Remix murmured, bowing her head in an attempt to hide her discomfort from her liege lord. Ultra Magnus knew what he was asking; Render was a deadly spy and assassin, with an unpredictable ability to berzerk, a result of an experiment in tweaking the neurocircuitry responsible for agression. She could be controlled, as he already knew, but it was an unpleasant experience for Remix, her controller.

"That will be all, Remix. Dismissed."

"By your command. I live to serve," the cassette Femme murmured, bowing deeply before leaving the office. Even as she walked out, Neo walked in, his face an impassive mask. Ultra Magnus widened an optic fractionally, frowning ever so slightly at the telepath's presumption.

"The Guild was informed you had a message for one of our Terran operatives, my lord. I was sent to collect that message," Neo informed him smoothly. Ultra Magnus was not impressed, scowling openly from behind the imposing bulk of his desk.

"The Senior Mentor of the Iacon Guildhouse is not used as a courier, not even for a message from my hand. What else brings you to me, Neo?"

"I know not to what you refer, my lord," the telepath murmured.

"Don't lie to me, Neo."

"It is my business and mine alone," the other replied moodily. Magnus grunted quietly, inwardly pleased to note the flinch that passed over the telepath as he lowered his gaze. Variance then, he thought to himself, hiding a smile. As Variance was tied to him, so Neo would be as well. And perhaps someday the whole of the Telepath Guild, though it suited his needs to support Morpheus as Guild Master for awhile longer.

"The message, my lord?"

"I assume you are aware of the contents of this report," Lord Magnus rumbled as he stood to walk around his desk, any hint of whimsy smoothly banished from his demeanor. He leaned back against the solid ebon metal of his desk, waiting for the telepath's response. He did not have to wait long as the telepath's cobalt optics flashed in thinly vieled annoyance.

"I am, my lord."

"Tell your operative in the Ark that I expect to be informed the second the Prime's shuttle leaves the planet. I'll not allow the city to be unprepared for his arrival a second time."

"You mean you have no intention of letting him catch you off-guard," Neo murmured, daring to meet the warlord's gaze. He stared down at the telepath, trying to gauge the other Mech's intentions.

"I know what you're thinking," the telepath's voice purred as a small smile curved the corner of his mouth. "Can I be trusted? If not, what can be done to dispose of the threat I pose?"

Ultra Magnus said nothing, crossing his arms over his chest as his optics narrowed thoughtfully. While his own ability to shield his thoughts was limited, it was usually more than sufficient to insure that no telepath could read his thoughts without his awareness. And anyone presuming to read the lord regent's thoughts was not bound long for this life.

"You need not fear the Guild, Liege," Neo murmured after a brief silence. "Morpheus has sworn the Guild into your service, though perhaps not all of our members know this. As for myself . . . as you have spared my life, it is yours to command, Liege."

He remained motionless as the Senior Mentor of the Telepath Guild knelt before him and surrendered his sidearm with his head bowed. Magnus watched the telepath carefully, tempted to summon Irradia, if only to hear her assessment of the veracity of Neo's actions. It would be easy for the skilled operative to be lying about his loyalty . . . and yet, there was no reason for him to do so.

He watched the curve of Neo's bowed head, watching for the subtle tell-tales that the black ops specialist was losing his patience. In a matter of moments, he was rewarded by the shimmer of a faint quiver along Neo's left shoulder. Smiling at last, he reached down to clasp the stock of the telepath's weapon, slowly pulling it from his grasp.

"Your . . . proposal . . . is acceptable. Transmit my orders to the Guild before Variance can make you forget."

"If I might ask a favor, my liege," the telepath warrior murmured as he rose to his feet.

"You may ask . . . but I promise you nothing."

"Variance doesn't know I'm here. He doesn't even have the shift off. I've barely seen him. . . ."

"And you want me to grant him the rest of the shift so he may spend it with you?"

"And, um, the next shift too. . . ."

"Well . . . you're certainly ambitious," Magnus chuckled as he set the telepath's weapon on the desk behind himself. "Very well, while you relay my orders to the Guild, I will see that Variance is ordered home."

"Thank you, Liege."

"Mm. You had best get moving, Neo," Magnus rumbled. The operative glanced meaningfully at his weapon, but did nothing to retrieve it. When it became clear the warlord had no intension of returning the gun, the operative tried to suppress a sigh, saluted with an additional bow of his head, and let himself out of the office. Magnus paused only a moment longer before opening the intercom line to his primary adjutant.

"Ægis, summon Variance to my office."

"By your will, sir. Are you free to accept a call from First Minister Klethsuu?"

"No. Route the Minister to Irradia; he will be dealing with her eventually in any case," he directed as he settled back behind his desk.

"Very well, sir. Shall I similarly route a call from Prelate Durranna?"

"Yes, with priority and my apologies for being unable to speak with her personally."

"Very well, sir. Commander General Chronotrigger is requesting a moment of your time."

"Is he in the outer office or is this a written request?"

"He is here now, sir. Will you see him now or later, sir?"

"Send him in," Ultra Magnus sighed, suddenly grateful for what few moments he had been able to steal earlier.

Chronotrigger was both the oldest of the three commander generals, and the newest to his rank. Ultra Magnus was well aware that the bulky green general now entering his office had achieved his rank by the fortuitous timing of his predecessor's demise. However, inasmuch as Darkward had been an irretrievable Prime loyalist, the lord regent had not bothered to expend much energy resolving his murder. He knew Chronotrigger had not been responsible, that he had, in fact, simply capitalized on the situation as it presented itself to him. For better or for worse, Chronotrigger could plan a murder, but any such plans would never progress beyond that stage.

"What is it you need, Chronotrigger?"

"Permission to speak frankly, my lord?"

"Whatever it is, General, just say it and be done with it."

"Sir, I need an easement. I've done the best I can, but Draconis still only has thirty-seven members. I've had a number of applicants, but I can't take 'em when they're below our standards. I don't see how I can reach fifty in the time alloted, sir."

"Curious. Hot Spot has already achieved his goal."

"With respect, sir, Hot Spot has it easy. Even more than Antares, Mercury is the corp the soldiers wish to join."

"Then raid his applications, Chronotrigger," Magnus growled, making no effort to hide his annoyance with the general. "Those Autobots wanted to be considered for a position with an elite strike unit. Nowhere is it promised they will be placed with the unit to which they apply.

"Now, unless you have something actually worth my time, I suggest you get to work."

Chronotrigger bowed with a slightly sour look, then walked out of the office under Ultra Magnus's close watch. The commander general growled and swung at Variance as he stormed past, but the Mercury operative ducked away from the blow, confusion flickering briefly in his optics. Ultra Magnus once more walked around his desk to stand before it, waving Variance into his office. Groove's lieutenant complied with thinly vieled unease, his optics immediately going to Neo's gun, still resting on the warlord's desk.

"You sent for me, my lord?" he asked hesitantly, entering the office only far enough to clear the sensor and thus allow the door to close behind him.

"I did indeed. Sit," he directed, crossing his arms over his chest as he once again leaned against his desk. Variance opened his mouth, as if to protest, then thought better of it and claimed an uneasy seat before the Lord Regent of the Autobot Empire.

"First, you are off-duty for the rest of this shift as well as the next shift. Second . . . talk to me about Neo."

"Sir?"

"He pledged his life to me . . . or so he says. You know him better than anyone else. How much is his word worth?"

Ultra Magnus watched as Variance turned his gaze to stare at the rifle on his desk, focusing on it intently with new understanding. His anger was cooled, but there was still hurt in full measure and something more that flitted in and out of Variance's chromium blue optics.

"He . . . he's a good warrior, my lord. Solid, dependable in combat. He's loyal to the Guild and the Empire, if not so much to the Autobots in charge."

"But?"

"He follows orders, but when it comes to his word . . . well sir, I know I'm biased, but from what I see . . . when it comes to the most important things in life, his word is worthless."

"Harsh words, especially coming from his bondmate."

"You asked my opinion," the tactician murmured with a half shrug, the aerofoil across his shoulders flexing with a faint click. "In my opinion, well. . . ."

Variance trailed off with a vague cough, still unwilling to meet Ultra Magnus's gaze. He instead remained focused on Neo's gun, as if it might leap to life. Ultra Magnus watched the warrior for a moment before speaking again.

"He wants to spend time with you."

"Sir?"

"You wanted to know why I was granting you time off, and I'm telling you. Neo came to me, swore his life to me, then asked me to give you the time free."

"If I may ask, my lord . . . why?"

Ultra Magnus leaned forward, tugging Variance's chin up to force visual contact. He could tell the elite operative was uncomfortable with the physical contact, but chose to ignore it. Magnus was quite tired of being avoided, as though he was not even in the room. He liked to think he was an Autobot of some measure of patience for the vagaries of the Autobots under his command, particularly when compared to the likes of Optimus Prime, but even his patience was not infinite.

"If you're asking me why he wants to spend time with you, then you're asking the wrong person, Lieutenant. You once trusted him with your soul. Now you tell me I shouldn't trust his word? You understand that sounds rather . . . unusual."

"I can only offer what I have seen, my lord."

"Mm," he replied, releasing the operative as he turned away. He could feel the tactician watching him apprehensively as he picked up Neo's gun. It was a fairly standard issue weapon, not even a custom build. He wondered if there was any significance to it or it if was simply the first thing Neo had in his queue. He rather suspected the later.

"Go home, Variance," he said, turning back around suddenly. "If you should happen to think of some substantial reason why I should distrust Neo, inform me.

"In the mean time," he smiled, turning the gun to offer the stock to the surprised tactician, "enjoy your free shift. Perhaps you will find it . . . inspiring."

"Lord?"

"Well don't just stare at it," Magnus grunted. Startled, Variance took the proffered weapon, cradling it with careful hands. As if he held something precious, instead of an estranged bondmate's plain blaster.

"Thank you, my liege," the elite operative murmured, bowing his head as his fist tapped his chest in salute. The lord regent continued to watch as the lieutenant left his office, a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he noted the younger Autobot's guarded enthusiasm.

And another bows to my power, he noted silently. Optimus is a fool. Fear may hold the army, but not it's loyalty. Let him think the Empire bows to his will. Let him revel in his public displays. His time will come. Moron. Only in the end will he see the truth. The Empire belongs to ME.

Sunrunner feigned sleep, not wanting to rouse his sister from her meditations at his side. He knew how important they were to her and he would hate to be the cause of their disruption. Even if she was the one responsible for him losing time yet again.

She's become like them, using your own weaknesses against you, the voice he had come to call Shadow hissed at him. She's as cruel as any of them and you don't even know why. But I do. I know what she's trying to hide from you. And I know who she's trying to hide. But I don't think I'm going to tell you, death knight. . . .

Stop calling me that! he hissed silently. Shadow seemed fond of that nickname, even moreso than "dark prince." At least he could understand the reasoning behind the latter, but "death knight" . . . perhaps it was meant to be a play on his other name, Paladin.

It is your destiny, dark prince. Death walks beside you, wraps its shield all around you. The bodies of the dead will mark your passing and you will draw power from the destruction. Already you feed off conflict and strife, growing stronger through combat. The longer you stay, the more certain shall be your fall.

Lies. It's all lies. I will not fall away from the light. I will not be fooled by the golden façade that the Empire tries to pass off as truth. I shall not be so naive.

Think what you will, Shadow sneered. Your fate is already sealed. Enjoy your reign, Paladin. Avenger lies in wait. . . .

Sunrunner shivered, chilled to the core, though he did not know why. More than any other taunt, the mention of this Avenger disturbed him. It was as if he recognized the name, knew the Autobot to whom it belonged, and yet couldn't remember who it was. Only that it was someone to fear, someone who would do all the things of which Shadow spoke. A harbinger of death and destruction.

"Fighting against yourself again?" his sister's quiet voice murmured suddenly, startling him.

"What? No . . . no, I'm fine. . . ."

"You don't have to lie to me, Brother," she replied softly, brushing his shoulder with her fingertips. "Have I not always kept your secrets as faithfully as my own? I may have removed my sigil, but I am still your sister."

"Star, I'm fine, really. Just . . . got a lot on my mind," he replied with a strained smile.

"I know," she smiled back. "I don't know how you've had the strength to survive everything that's happened. I don't think I could have done it. . . ."

"You know?"

"Of course. It's been hard; you've been in such chaos the last couple of weeks. . . . Wait . . . you don't know, do you? You don't even realize how I was able to reach your dreans. . . ."

"Star, what are you talking about?"

"I don't really understand it myself, but there's a sort of telepathic link between us. I'm still muddling my way through how it works, but. . . ."

She trailed off suddenly, twisting around as the sound of footsteps caught her attention. Sunrunner took advantage of her distraction to climb to his feet, unwilling to meet whoever it was on his back. Irradia walked into the room and barely did more than glance at them before she began speaking.

"We leave Iacon in twelve hours on a tour of the Empire, terminating in an extended stay on Imperial crown world Alpha Nathis IV. I do not currently know how long we will be gone, so if you have any business to attend before we leave, I suggest you do it now, Starchaser. We will be traveling on one of the Empire's premier capital warships and escorted both by a handful of attendant ships and a team of Mercuries as personal security for the Consort. Any attempt to escape, Sunrunner, would be ill-advised."

She turned around and left before he could do more than scowl at her back. He had promised to obey, but that was when it was thought he would be remaining on Cybertron. Shuffled off the homeworld, there was little chance of him uncovering anything of value. Which could very well be the reason for the rapid exodus.

"I . . . have to go take care of something. Are you going to be okay on your own, 'Runner?"

"I'll be fine," he muttered. "Go see your medic, Star. It's not like I can stop you anyway. . . ."

Fear flitted across her face and he actually caught himself frowning. How had he known that she was going to see First Aid? And why did his knowing scare her?

Told you I knew who it was, Shadow whispered as his sister hurried out of the room. You're learning to take from me without even realizing it, death knight. Should be more careful about that . . . keep it up and Avenger will find you all too easy to corrupt. . . .

Sunrunner shivered as Shadow's rasping voice wove through his thoughts like a putrid stench. Every time Shadow spoke, it was like some vile thing was reaching into his very spark, darkness oozing through him in ways that should not have been possible.

Silence, shadow-voice, a new, hauntingly familiar voice whispered from somewhere deep within his spark. If he hadn't thought it was impossible, he would have thought the voice was his own . . . but the words weren't.

Did you think you could keep me silent forever, Paladin? the voice that was-yet-not his whispered weakly. Though perhaps I should thank you, since without your arrogant attempt to escape, our minds never would have split. You might have gotten us destroyed. I suppose we owe Dyne a little something. Perhaps we'll attend his deathmatch . . . if they haven't already killed him by the time we get back here. . . .

Sunrunner sat on his bed, trembling as memory swept back, gleefully supplied by Avenger. There was nothing from before the outpost, but what had happened since was enough. And then there were all the things Avenger wanted to do to Dyne and to Blurr that made him sick.

"No," he rasped, "no, you're a . . . a remnant. A ghost. You're not real. . . ."

Oh I'm very real, Paladin. I may be too weak to rule you now, but someday . . . someday I will rise again. You can either join us or be swept aside.

"Never!"

Told you I did, death knight, Shadow whispered with sickly tendrils darkness. It is your destiny. . . .

"I don't believe you. I won't let you win. I am Paladin. I will not surrender to you!"

The voices remained silent, but he knew they were not vanquished. They merely bided their time, waiting for the next round.

The Imperial warship Hammer of the Lightbringer dropped out of hyperspace just beyond the range of the the planetary defense grid of Alpha Nathis IV, swiftly followed by it's swarm of attendant vessels. Hundreds of orbital defense platforms washed the Hammer's hull with sensor scans, but nothing else; the Hammer was an expected guest. She smiled faintly as she watched the orb of A. Nathis IV grow on the forward viewscreen, a pale blue-green marble wreathed in gauzey white clouds; it had been quite some time since her last visit and she found she had missed the sight of her favorite subject world from space.

"Liegana, we're being hailed."

"On screen," Irradia ordered calmly, rising to her feet to approach the forward viewscreen.

"Liegana, we are honored by your visit. Our Liege Lord the Lightbringer has only just contacted us. He wished you to know that you are to remain with us for one lunat."

"It is I who am honored to know that I shall be spending such time with your people, Prelate," Irradia replied with a demure bow of her head. Of all the virtues, the Nathi prized humility in service the most.

"We stand ready to greet you as soon as your shuttle lands, Liegana."

"We look forward to it, Prelate," Irradia replied with another slight bow of her head before turning to the communications officer and silently ordering him to close the channel.

"Captain, I assume you have a shuttle ready for landing."

"Of course, Liegana. I will be waiting for you on the flight deck."

Irradia nodded before exiting the bridge, reassured to hear that the ship's captain was familiar with Nathi ritual. The Nathi were one of the oldest subject races in the Empire, having spent almost their entire evolution under the Imperial banner. They were the proof Ultra Magnus had needed to show that his way was better for the Empire and they held a place of honor.

"You'll be relieved to hear that Prelate Durranna is far less prone to extended ceremony than her predecessors," Variance murmured as they entered the lift. Groove had not been pleased to have his team and his ship assigned as part of the Liegana's escort, so in protest he had forced his lieutenant to take his place at Irradia's side. He claimed Chimera needed him aboard; a baldfaced lie, but Irradia much preferred Variance's company and so was willing to let the subcommander get away with it.

"Then I might actually get to watch the suns set tonight?"

"Well, perhaps not, but certainly the second moonrise," Variance replied with a slight smile. He, too, was less than happy with his current assignment, albeit for very different reasons. And to his credit, he hid his personal feelings much better. But with Neo's promotion to Senior Mentor, the telepath had been reassigned to a different unit, no longer eligible for off-world assignments. They had already been away from Cybertron for a little over seven weeks, a rather average tour length, particularly considering they had already visited nine of the eleven subject systems. Ten, now that they were within A. Nathis space.

"It will be good to get off this ship and know I won't have to come back to it for awhile," she said conversationally. "And it will be good to see the Nathi homeworld again. I've missed so much . . . I don't remember there being orbital platforms when I was here the last time. . . ."

"Mm . . . the Nathi had only just begun to dream of achieving their own space program when you left. Forty-five Prelates later, they have taken their place as First Race among the subject worlds. Their tradeships crisscross the Empire almost as frequently as our own and they have, in fact, replaced our ships as the face of the Empire to the civilizations beyond our borders."

"An interesting strategy."

"They have always had a gift for diplomacy, Liegana. Many an alien delegate has been charmed by their attention to detail and formality."

"But not you?"

"I . . . have never been one for pomp and circumstance, Liegana. That has always been . . . more Neo's interest."

Irradia nodded; she had once felt the same way. Few indeed were the Autobots who could appreciate the simple comfort of ceremony and formality. She was actually looking forward to renewing her ties to a world that put such faith in their rituals and traditions.

She paused at the threshold to her cabin, her hand hovering over the keypad, then turned back towards Variance.

"I know this wasn't the path you wanted for your career, Variance. There is honor to be gained in my service, but if you are not happy . . . you have only to ask and I will find you another place."

"Liegana, I serve at the pleasure of the Lord Magnus. If this is where he wishes me to serve, then I shall do so and be glad that he has seen fit to honor me more than I deserve."

Irradia studied the dusky blue warrior before her in speculative silence; that had not been the answer she had been expecting to hear. Indigination at the suggestion that he be reassigned, perhaps, followed by subdued gratitude for the offer and an interest in getting home. She had known that Ultra Magnus had a gift for inspiring the loyalty of his troops, but she hadn't realized how strong that loyalty could be.

"Liegana? Have I said something wrong?"

"No, Variance, just . . . unexpected. I'll be out in a second."

She smiled up at the taller warrior reassuringly, then let herself into her cabin. Starchaser and Sunrunner were lounging in the main chamber, apathetically playing some sort of video game. This trip had held little interest for either of them; between the near-constant traveling and the ongoing restrictions on Sunrunner's movements, the two had taken to spending a great deal of time together in the cabin, playing video games that had lost their sparkle three star systems ago.

"All right, you two, we're here. Alpha Nathis IV, locally known as Khepera. And this time, I promise, we will be staying in one place for more than a day. We have five weeks here and I intend to spend as much of that time as possible in my home in Waset."

"Alpha Nathis . . . as in the world with Nedjit?"

"The very same. If you would like, I can ask that arrangements be made for us to visit the park."

"I've been wanting to stand under the real cataracts for weeks," Starchaser murmured wistfully.

"They may not let you do that, hon, but we should be able to go see them at least."

"But . . . but why wouldn't they?"

"And why should it matter?" Sunrunner added sullenly. "I thought the whole point was that the Autobots could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, wherever they wanted."

"The Nathi are the most favored subjects of the Empire, of special importance to Ultra Magnus. If they ask us not to do something, then we will respect their wishes. Do I make myself clear, Sunrunner?"

"I'm not an Autobot hypocrit," Sunrunner snorted. Irradia opted not to argue; she didn't want to keep the Prelate waiting any longer than absolutely necessary.

"Switch off the game; the shuttle is waiting for us."

Sunrunner looked like he was about to make some snarky comment when Starchaser switched off the game and rose to her feet. Her irritable son scowled for a moment, then rose to his feet as well, waiting for her to make her next move. Irradia suppressed an annoyed sigh and walked back out into the corridor, nodding once to Variance before continuing on to the lift and the flight deck.

Starchaser stared at the world around her in awe, her head still spinning from the multitude of names and customs the Hammer's captain had thrown at her during the brief shuttle trip. They had landed on a special field reserved for Imperial use just beyond the city limits of Waset, the planetary capital. Two hundred meters to the north, the city shimmered in the reflection of the binary suns, graceful rises of glass and silvery adamentium reaching up into the crystalline blue sky. A. Nathis IV was a warm riot of color, the lush greens of the gardens between the landing field and the city dotted with brightly-colored flowers and the darker shapes of assorted structures for garden visitors.

"Star, pay attention," her mother murmured quietly. Embarrassed, she turned her attention towards the group of Nathi waiting for them patiently. They were taller than she had been expecting, though still rather small. They were each approximately two meters tall, their long bodies draped in brightly colored robes. Thin faces framed in dark tresses held no clue to gender, unless all those present were the same gender. She could tell she was going to have to pay special attention to minute details if she was going to tell these Nathi apart from one another.

"High Lady Irradia," the being in the middle spoke in dulcet tones, bowing low with fluid grace, "we welcome your return to our people with joy in our hearts and arms opened wide. When we first heard the Lightbringer would not be coming to our world this season, there was much sadness in the hearts of our people. That sadness became great joy when we learned that your return was the reason."

"You honor us with your words, Prelate Durranna. My own heart is lightened with the news that I may spend an entire lunat with your people. There is much I have missed in my long time away from this place. I fear I hardly recognize your world! It is good to know I will have the time I need to come to know your people once more."

It wasn't until her mother spoke that she realized that not only were they not speaking any Cybertronian dialect, but that she had actually been hearing this same language used on every other planet they had visited. More, she had been translating for herself without even realizing it.

"The work of many, many generations, Liegana. We would be honored to show you all we have achieved. Even your home here among our people has moved in the changes. But you have traveled long to come to our home. Surely you must wish to rest, to restore your balance after such travel. We shall guide you so that you may settle your staff as well."

The five Nathi boarded a simple groundcar, following a plain ribbon of road that lead away from the landing field at an oblique angle to the city. Starchaser was surprised when her mother only paused for a moment before transforming and taking to the air. Variance and the others all seemed to be waiting on them, so she followed her mother's example. Her brother hesitated a moment more before doing the same. She could tell he was surprised when, instead of shooting him down, the half dozen Autobots behind them merely folded into their respective vehicle modes and followed the Nathi groundcar.

"She thinks we're your staff?" Starchaser asked her mother via commlink.

"Yes," she replied evenly. "And I am not yet ready to disabuse her of that notion. The people here know the Decepticon sigil as a slave brand. I will not tell her that the Lightbringer's son is a slave."

"But . . . how can you keep it a secret?"

"The Lightbringer's heir was known across the Empire as Avenger, just as his most favored daughter was known as Darkmist. Starchaser and Sunrunner have no meaning to these people. If your brother will leave behind the sigil, then perhaps I shall tell them the truth. Until then. . . ."

The conversation died as they approached what could only be the new home meant for Irradia's use. The compound the Nathi had built for their Autobot overlords looked like a satellite city of the capital by virtue of scale. They landed in the central courtyard, waiting patiently as the Nathi led the other landbound Autobots into the court. Irradia turned from her survey as the Prelate stood beside her car.

"It is our hope you will find these to your liking, Liegana. At the behest of the Lightbringer, we combined your estate with the embassy. I believe Ambassador Shadowstrike is currently elsewhere on our world - there has been some difficulty in one of the southern provinces - but he should return in time for the reception this evening."

"I am already quite impressed. This must have been a considerable undertaking."

"The work of several generations, Liegana. But we have always been honored to serve the greater good of the Empire."

"The sacrifices of the Nathi people have ever been and shall always be greatly appreciated, Prelate. I have but one request I would make. Would it be possible to arrange a visit to Nedjit? It has been so long since my spirit has heard the song of it's tumbling waters. . . ."

"For you, Liegana, our people would try to halt the suns in the sky," the prelate replied with a low bow. "I shall see that the proper arrangements are made tomorrow. How many of your party will be accompanying you?"

Irradia turned to Variance with an inquisitive expression. The Mercurian frowned thoughtfully for a moment before speaking: "If all three of you are going, I'll need at least four and myself."

"Eight then, Prelate."

"It may be several days before an outing can be arranged, but I will see to it that the proper arrangements are made."

"You need not put out your own people for my sake, Prelate. I wouldn't dream of asking you to close the site for my personal use, not when it means so much to your people."

"As you wish, Liegana," the prelate replied with another low bow. "I will have the arrangements made by tomorrow eve."

"Then until this evening, Prelate, may the winds be swift at your feet."

"And may they whisper only peace in your soul, Liegana," she replied with a final bow before re-entering her car.

The reception held little interest for Starchaser, particularly since her brother had been forced to stay at the embassy estate. She understood why, of course, but she didn't like it. At the same time, she didn't know what she could do about it. He wasn't going to remove his Decepticon sigil; it meant too much to him. And she didn't feel right asking him to even consider it. His faith in the cause was quite likely the one thing that still kept him going, the one thing that kept him from succumbing to the dark voices of his shattered psyche.

"You don't appear to be enjoying yourself, my dear."

Starchaser started as the ambassador, Shadowstrike, suddenly appeared at her side. She had noticed him doing that to the handful of Mercury operatives mingling with the other dignitaries and guests all night, though he rarely did it to the same one more than once. And with good reason; none of Variance's team cared to be caught off-guard, even if the one doing the catching was cheating with the use of audial dampers.

"I'm afraid this is not the sort of place where I feel comfortable," she replied demurely.

"I should think one of your obvious beauty and intelligence would be at ease anywhere, my dear. And you must be quite talented to be a Neutral working for the Lord Regent's Consort."

She could feel the first warnings of panic bubbling through her; she didn't know what she was supposed to say. Presumably, Irradia was saying something about what it was Starchaser did as part of her staff, but she didn't know what that could be. Fortunately, the Consort's guards were watching over her almost as much as they were Irradia.

"Starchaser, you're needed," Nails said bluntly, rescuing her from having to respond. "If you'll excuse us, Ambassador. . . ."

"Of course," the other mech replied somewhat stiffly. She fought back a smile as she followed Nails out into the gardens; her escort had actually hit the ambassador once already for sneaking up on him.

"You owe me," Nails rumbled. She could feel him watching her as she watched the twinned stars of Nathis sliding beneath the horizon.

"Thank you, Nails," she murmured, hoping that would be enough.

"Oh you owe me more than just a thank you, sugar," he replied and even though her back was turned to him, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Don't push your luck, Nails," she muttered, trying to make herself sound stronger than she really felt. Tense and wary, she was surprised to hear soft footsteps trying to mask themselves in the louder sounds of Nails' movements. Turning around, Starchaser stifled a worried noise, uneasy with Nails standing within arm's reach of her.

"Lady Starchaser? Is everything well?"

Nails narrowed his optics slightly, slowly spinning around on the young Nathi that stood behind him. Starchaser nudged him aside, worried at the rising irritation she had seen in his optics. Regardless of what Irradia might say about her sire's feelings towards the Nathi, she didn't want to take any risks of his soldiers not feeling nearly as generous.

"Everything's fine," Starchaser smiled down at the Nathi before her. From what she understood, she was looking at a young female of the species, her black hair only just reaching past her shoulders. Deep blue forelocks framed her alabaster face, creating a visually pleasing effect in combination with her blue-black oval-shaped eyes and the royal blue of her robe.

"When you left so suddenly. . . ."

"I've never seen a double sunset before," Starchaser replied, gesturing towards the horizon. "I do apologize if I caused offense."

"No offense, Lady Starchaser, only concern," the youth responded with a slight bow of her head. "Will you be rejoining us now?"

She glanced back over her shoulder, but the suns had already finished their twinned descent, leaving her with no excuse to remain outside. On the other hand, she didn't really want to be left alone with Nails, not when the mech seemed to think she owed him something more than simple gratitude.

"I suppose I shall. Do these receptions usually last this long?"

"For the bondmate of the Lightbringer, this could go on all night. Particularly as he was unable to visit us himself this season. But if it should become too much, perhaps you could ask to be excused. I know that sometimes the elders forget that others may yet need sleep before the next dawning. It would be nice if I could be excused so easily as a lesser staffer. . . ."

"Why can you not ask to be excused?"

"Did they not brief you?" the girl asked, her head turning to gaze back up at Starchaser. She tried to make sense of the Nathi's strange comment, searching her memory for anything that might help her.

"I guess it wasn't enough," she replied at last, acutely embarrassed.

"I am Attalissa, the Prelate's daughter. Asking to leave would be like . . . like the Lightbringer's heir asking to be excused. They might allow it, but . . . they would be disappointed."

"I understand," Starchaser replied as they rejoined the reception. She was surprised to find herself feeling sympathy for the young girl's situation; in reality, she felt much the same. As unthinkable as it had been only two months before, she found herself wanting Ultra Magnus to be proud of her. She only wished she knew how to go about it.

"Are you okay?" Irradia murmured as she suddenly walked beside her.

"Just feeling a little . . . disoriented, I guess. And I don't like Shadowstrike. The mech makes me want to crawl out of my own body."

"Variance has warned him to leave you alone. If he bothers you again, let me know."

"Maybe you could have Variance smack Nails around, too, then," she sighed, mildly annoyed. "He seems to think I owe him something . . . and I don't like how he suggested I repay him."

"I very much doubt any of them would dare try that with you; they know full well who you are. But perhaps I'll remind them again anyway."

"Attalissa said this could go on all night, Mom. I don't think I can handle that. . . . I don't think she liked the idea very much either."

"Attalissa? Ah, so you've met the Prelate's daughter. And I have no doubt that the Councillors could find excuse after excuse to extend this that long. Fortunately for you and Attalissa, I have no intensions of allowing them to get quite that carried away."

Starchaser watched as Irradia glided away with a smile, navigating the room full of the much smaller Nathi with practiced ease. For the millionth time that night, she sighed and wished she had her mother's self-confidence. Perhaps then she would stop feeling like she was about to misstep at any moment and cause some horrible accident.

From the corner of her visual range, she watched as her mother paused at Variance's side before continuing on to the raised dias where the Prelate was perusing a selection of edibles. The dusky blue operative carefully picked his way across the room and it took no magic talent to know where he was headed. So she tried not to sigh as he came to stop at her elbow.

"Your mother mentioned that you've had some difficulty tonight," he murmured, his voice almost lost in the buzz of conversation.

"She told me you'd already spoken to the ambassador. . . ."

"I have . . . but there was something more, was there not?"

"Just Nails," she murmured back. "It's nothing. Just words. . . ."

Variance didn't say anything, his optics roving across the room as they had been all night. She supposed she should be making some effort to mingle, to get to know their hosts, but she was feeling increasingly disinclined to move. So instead she watched the brightly garbed Nathi swirling about the room as she backed up against the wall. She wasn't sure if she was relieved to see Variance doing the same, apparently intending to stay with her for awhile longer, or if she wanted him to leave her alone. At least with the lieutenant at her side, Shadowstrike wouldn't be tempted to come and try to talk to her again.

"Most favored Prelate, noble Councillors, honored guests. It is said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. In this case, I find it to be most certainly true. It warms my heart to be among the Nathi people once more. And though I know the night is still young, it has been a long journey that has brought me once more among you. I ask you all to forgive me and do please continue your celebration, but for me and my staff, I fear it is time we retired."

"We are always honored by your presence, Liegana," the Prelate replied on behalf of the assembled Nathi. "May the night enfold you in it's peaceful embrace and hold you well until the morrow."

Starchaser almost sighed with relief as Variance silently directed her towards the exit. She wasn't tired, but it would be good to be back at the estate. At least there she didn't have to worry about doing something that would embarrass her in front of the Nathi.

Starchaser had been looking forward to the trip to Nedjit all week. Sunrunner . . . couldn't really make himself care one way or the other, and that bothered him. Flying over the wildernesses and cities scattered between Waset and the park shrine in the neighboring province of Khufu had been a relief. It would have been better, however, if he had been alone in his thoughts.

See, Paladin? This is the way of the Empire, Avenger's voice purred. He had become increasingly smug as the days had passed in Waset. Join with me and you will be even stronger than ever.

Sunrunner pushed the voice away as he transformed to land beside his sister. The cobblestone yard seemed oddly rustic considering the level of technology he had witnessed in the past week. On the other hand, he supposed shrines were allowed to be less technologically evolved.

An elder Nathi male walked out to greet them as the rest of the convoy reached the yard. Age had yellowed his skin and added streaks of white to his long hair. Something about the way he carried himself made Sunrunner think he was a priest of some sort.

"Liegana, the Order welcomes you," the male rumbled as he bowed low. "May you find inspiration and peace in this place. But I must ask that the one with the mark not be passed. He is welcome to stay in the yard. . . ."

"For what reason?" Irradia asked coldly.

"It is the way things are done," he replied simply.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Star's the one that's been dying to see this place. I can stay here with one of the guards. Not like I'm going to make trouble. . . ."

Irradia studied him intently for a moment before nodding and turning back to the priest. Sunrunner turned a small circle as he gazed around the cobbled yard. There wasn't much to see, of course, the yard being little more than a clearing in the forest with a couple of roads leading into the wilderness. While the priest lead Irradia and the rest of the party down one road, he walked down the other a handful of paces, stopping when he saw a tree large enough to lean against. Sinking down to the ground, he leaned back against the tree's trunk with a sigh and switched off his optics. He was so tired of being treated like an inconvience. If they didn't want him around, they should have left him in the camps. At least there he wouldn't have felt so alone.

You wouldn't be shunned if you weren't a slave.

I'm not a slave, he growled to himself. And I will NEVER listen to you!

Oh, but you already do, death knight, Shadow purred, pushing aside Avenger's calmer presence. You listen, you let us into your very spark . . . and let us grow stronger by your own doubts.

He tried to ignore Shadow's dark laughter, but the sound echoed through his thoughts, oozing through him like mental sludge. He powered up his optics to stare up at the placid blue sky, framed in the dappled greens of the trees around him, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves. This world made no sense to him, it's peacefulness at odds with everything he had ever been told. Alpha Nathis IV. Khepera. Whatever one called it, it was a part of the Autobot Empire and as such, it should have been a world of harsh masters wringing every drop of energon possible from it's resources. A world of darkness and destruction. And yet . . . that was not what he saw around him.

"Did it hurt?"

Sunrunner almost flinched at the intrusion of a voice upon his thoughts. Pulling his focus back from the cloudless sky that had at least succeeded in banishing the dark taint of Shadow's presence, he was surprised to see a young girl, no older than a single decade. Wide emerald eyes stared up at him unafraid from her porcelain face as she stood beyond the stretch of his legs, shoulder-length black hair streaked with green and blue gathered into a high tail.

"Did what hurt?" he asked back, puzzled both by her question and by her proximity. This was the first time any of the Nathi had dared to approach him so closely, the first time he had seen one that hadn't looked to be afraid of him. If anything, she looked like she pitied him. Maybe I don't look so imposing sitting down. . . .

"Your slave brand. Did it hurt?"

"What? No. No, it didn't hurt. And it's not a slave brand," he muttered, absently touching the purple sigil that almost glowed against the burnished yellow-gold of his chest. "It's a symbol of freedom."

"It's a slave brand," she said matter-of-factly. "I've seen it before, on the vids. What's it like?"

"Being a slave? I don't know, kid. Being me? Well . . . it's not a lot of fun, that's for sure."

"Mentor says it's important for us to be kind to others, even slaves, because they're people too, they just haven't had a very good life. He says sometimes it becomes a matter of not having any other choice, of needing to support a family, but not being able to do anything else. Is that what happened to you?"

"No. I told you, I'm not a slave. I'm a prisoner of war."

"Oh. Oh! You're one of the bad robots trying to take away our rights!"

"No," he sighed, trying to stay patient with the girl, "the Decepticons are trying to free all people from the slavery of the Empire."

"You're the slave, not me," she pointed out pragmatically. "The Empire protects us from the bad people that want to hurt us."

"Then the Empire is lying to you. They only want to use you for their own amusement. When they're done playing with you, they'll destroy you."

"You're funny . . . but not very smart," the girl replied, sitting down next to his hand. "You don't know about our history. A long, long time ago, before even gramma's gramma's gramma, the Lightbringer came and brought the gift of peace. There hasn't been war in a very long time. They say Autobots live in the capital and a couple other places, but I've never seen one before. You're the closest I've ever been to one before, only you're not an Autobot."

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

"Why should I be? If they thought you were really dangerous, then you wouldn't be here."

"Shouldn't you be somewhere else?"

"Nope. Why's that Mercury watching you?"

"Because they're worried I'll escape. Like I said, I'm a prisoner."

"Must be important to have the First File guarding you," the girl murmured, turning around slightly to look up at his guard. Sunrunner glanced at the dark shape of Nails and stifled a sigh. He would have been happier with almost anyone else as his guard, but at least he knew he could take out Nails if he absolutely had to do so. Unfortunately, there was another guard watching him from deeper in the forest. Still no escape.

"Yeah," he muttered, "I'm pretty important all right."

"Why?" she asked, turning back to gaze up at him with wondering eyes. "What did you do?"

"I was born."

"I don't understand."

"They think I'm a threat to them, but they won't kill me because then I'll be a martyr to the cause."

"The one that wants to end the Empire?"

"The Decepticons believe that freedom is the right of all sentient beings."

"Then they should leave us alone. We are free."

"You're just a little kid. What do you know about politics?"

"I know enough to know I'm free and you're not."

Sunrunner sat in silence, staring down at her impassively and wondering just what it was going to take to get rid of her. She was annoying.

You only think that because deep within you, you know that she's right, Avenger's voice purred through him. He pushed down a shudder and tried to ignore him. The Empire was evil, every Decepticon knew that. That this girl didn't only meant that they were lying to her.

"I know what you're thinking," she murmured. "You think I'm just some kid that's been lied to her entire life and doesn't know anything about anything . . . but it looks to me like you're the one who's been lied to all along, not me. I mean, if I wasn't free, would I be allowed to do this?"

Sunrunner watched in horror as the child scooped up a handful of pebbles, ran towards Nails, and threw them at him. Before he could even think, the Mercury operative had her by her hair, scowling. He felt his entire frame tensing, preparing to take out the obnoxious guard if he so much as touched the girl wrong and to the smelter with what his other guard thought about it.

"There's trying to make a point, kid, and then there's being stupid. You're lucky I'm not some grunt."

The child actually grinned up at Nails before speaking: "Everyone knows the First File are the Lightbringer's guards."

The black-hued warrior actually laughed as he released her. Sunrunner could hardly believe what he was seeing. An Autobot warrior was actually letting some organic brat get away with throwing a handful of rocks at him? Granted, it was unlikely she could do anything more than scratch his paint, but still. . . . Could the Decepticons truly be so completely, horribly wrong?

"Still think we need rescuing from the 'evil' Empire?" the girl asked impishly.

"I. . . ."

"Why do they think you're so dangerous, anyway?"

"I could bring hope. . . ."

"Like the Lightbringer! Great Lord Magnus brought hope to our people and now he protects us."

"Hmph."

"Does it come off then?"

"Does what come off?"

"The symbol, silly. You said it wasn't a brand. Does that mean it comes off?"

"It can, yeah," he replied quietly. His mind was a haze of confused thoughts. This world stood in opposition to everything he had been told about the Autobot Empire. Yes, he was treated despicably, but he was the only one. This child was free . . . or if she was a slave, then she was so deeply enslaved that she had no idea that she wasn't freeborn. Their entire world had grown so dependant on the Empire, so adapted to it's presence in their lives, that, were they to suddenly be bereft of its presence, they would be lost, blind in a darkness not of their own making.

This is the Empire of our sire, Paladin. This is what your insane cause will destroy if it tears down the Empire. Any rightness that lingers is in the thrust to remove Optimus Prime. Our sire wants that as well. And he won't destroy the lives of these people to do it. Join with me, Paladin, and I promise you, Shadow will be silenced forever. Together, we can banish him . . . and take our rightful place at our sire's side.

He shied away from Avenger's voice, instinctively trying to deny that the other could be speaking the truth. But even as he recoiled from the part of him that had existed long before the outpost, he felt his own control of the situation slipping out of his hands. Paladin watched in numb horror as a hand reached up to peel the purple sigil from his chestplate, then hold it out to the girl.

"Only a symbol, a choice," Avenger's voice spoke. "All the lies that hide the truth . . . the ignorance that cannot see. . . ."

"Purple really isn't your color," the girl smiled up at him, then poked the decal tentatively.

"No . . . no, I suppose it isn't. . . ."

The words tumbled out of Sunrunner's mouth at Avenger's command . . . but the horrified denials had stopped. Pieces once diametrically opposed fell into alignment with startling clarity of vision. The place of the noble paladin was to protect those who could not protect themselves, to be a shining example of righteousness by serving those in need. Time and again he had been shown the truth of an Empire that flourished through self-determination and careful dominion, but it had taken the words of an alien child to bring that Empire into focus. The Empire of Optimus Prime was a beast worthy of destruction. The Empire of Ultra Magnus . . . was something else entirely.

What is virtue and what is sin? What is right and what is wrong? What is real, what is just a dream? Perhaps we are meant to exist in the shades of grey that lie between. . . .

Sunrunner stared at the sigil in his hand, watched as it crumpled under his fingers. He had made his choice; he would not live his life as a slave.

Irradia watched with a slow smile as Sunrunner crushed his Decepticon sigil with the same slow methodicalness he had always exhibited in the past. For a brief moment, she was tempted to make her presence known. Then the Nathi child spoke again.

"Isn't someone going to be mad at you for doing that?"

"Probably . . . but then he's always been an idealist, mired in a world of black and white. I could explain until the end of time and he would never understand the shades of grey. Besides, the people here? They'll probably be happy to see what I've done. . . ."

"I don't understand."

"Of course not . . . you don't even know who I am, do you?"

"Should I?"

"No," he replied, holding one hand in front of himself speculatively. "No, I don't suppose so. . . ."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked petulantly.

"It means," Irradia murmured as she stepped out from behind a thicket of trees, "that you have done a great service to the Empire, child."

The child's eyes darkened in surprise, her head shaking slightly in disbelief of such high praise. Sunrunner, too, seemed startled by her sudden appearance, the crumpled remnants of his sigil slipping through his fingers. She offered them both a reassuring smile, but she suspected that neither was particularly reassured.

"Lu-lu-lu-lady Irradia," the girl stuttered, blinking rapidly in her distress and shock. "I didn't mean . . . I mean, I didn't know . . . I mean . . . oh please don't tell my mother!"

Irradia frowned slightly; this was not the sort of reaction she had expected. Kneeling down so she wasn't towering over the child so much, she reached out to her as she spoke: "What's your name, little one?"

"I-it's Kiya, Lady Irradia. . . ."

"Well, Kiya, do you know who this is you've been talking to?"

"N-no, Lady Irradia. . . . J-just that he said he's a prisoner of war. . . ."

"Then why don't I introduce you to him, hmm? Kiya, I'd like you to meet my son, the paladin Sunrunner, formerly known as Avenger."

"L-lord Avenger? Th-the Lost Heir? Really and truly?"

"Really and truly," Sunrunner murmured as he smiled gently, his tone slightly different from the one to which she had become accustomed since his rebuilding. More like his voice was when he was still Avenger.

"You . . . you were . . . you were one of them???" she gasped, scandalized by the very thought.

"Well . . . I was lost, Kiya. I had forgotten everything I had ever known. About the Empire, about my sire, about your people. They took me in and tried to help me to the best of their ability, but, well, there's a lot that they just don't know and can't see. They did the best they could though, so I can't really be mad at them. . . .

"There's a lot I still don't remember . . . but you helped me get a few of those lost memories back."

"Then . . . then I'm glad I came," Kiya said at last. "And I'm glad I helped you, Lord Paladin. I know you will be good for our people."

Something twitched across Sunrunner's face as the girl bowed low, but he said nothing. She smiled up at them both, then ran back up the path, presumably to wherever it was her mother was waiting for her. Irradia smiled quietly to herself as she watched, then turned and offered a hand to her bondson.

"So . . . my daughter was right about you. . . ."

"Right about me? Mm . . . yes, I suppose she was. . . ."

"And the son I knew, Avenger? What have you done with him?"

"He is still here. I am still here. We are still Sunrunner . . . only more aware of what we have been and what we may yet be. No one else will ever know that I am anything more than what I have always been. I learned in my silent watching.

"Now then, what must I do to have my birthright restored to me?"

"You would go so far as to place the Autobot sigil upon your chest once more?"

"In this, Paladin and Avenger are of one mind," Sunrunner murmured. "You will not speak of my duality ever again. No other is to know this truth . . . am I understood?"

Irradia studied him in silence, watching the fire that flared in his azure optics. Then a thin smile curled the corner of her mouth.

"You are your sire's creation, Sunrunner. Your secret is safe with us."

Lord Regent Ultra Magnus scowled down at the orange hulk of metal that was the Lord Prime's shuttle as he paused in the skywalk between the palace and the arena. Leaning on the railing, he peripherally watched the bustle of the city, but mostly his attention was focused with ever-increasing hatred at the burnt umber stain that crouched on the nearest shuttle pad. Little better than a flying brick, it was as unsightly as the lord who claimed it as his own. He wanted the triggerhappy warlord gone from his city, but for some reason, the Prime saw no reason to leave just yet.

"My Liege, this arrived for you," the quiet voice of Riven purred softly. He studied the newest field commander of the Mercuries with critical optics, not that he had any reason to doubt Hot Spot's judgement. Quite the opposite, in fact; Riven's service record spoke for itself and she was . . . gentle on the optics. But it was a bit unusual for a commander to be running errands for anyone other than himself.

"Aren't you a bit overqualified to be running courier, Commander?" he rumbled as he accepted the diplomatic pouch from her outstretched hand.

"Ordinarily, my Liege, yes, however, given the probable sensitivity of the contents, it was believed wiser to have someone of greater rank handle the matter, lest someone . . . else . . . were to try to commandeer it."

"Very well. You may resume your regular duties, Commander."

"By your will, Liege," the slender operative murmured with a graceful yet submissive salute. Magnus fired another withering glare at the repugnant shuttle before quickly retiring to his office.

Ultra Magnus did little more than glance at the diplomatic pouch, noticing the imprint of the Nathi embassy with curiosity; it had been some time since Shadowstrike had felt the need to send him anything more than dull status reports. The contents of the pouch, however, were clearly not from the ambassador. Safe from suspicious optics, the pouch had traveled the length and breadth of the empire holding a crumpled Decepticon decal and a data crystal.

Most curious, he noted to himself with a faint smile. His mate was on A. Nathis IV, safe from the machinations of the Prime. Which meant the sigil could only have one source.

The letter began simply enough. . . .

"My beloved bondmate. . . .

"I have sworn his secret would be safe with us; Sunrunner wants no one else to know of his now-dual nature. I do not blame him; many in your empire would brand him unfit and ignore the cohesion of his mind. Know that Avenger rules him now, though Paladin still lingers. At his request, he now bears the Autobot sigil. . . ."

Ultra Magnus reread the letter twice, but the words did not change - Sunrunner now claimed to be an Autobot. He would have to test that loyalty, of course, but if the assassin was once more allied with his will. . . .

"Forgive my presumption, Liege," Spectra's voice purred as she suddenly appeared in his office then dropped to her knees beside his desk. "You sai--"

"I know what I said, Spectra," he rumbled dismissively. "What have you discovered?"

"They grow ever more suspicious, my Liege. Twice now he has vowed to have you destroyed, yet he has thus far done nothing to make good on his threats. Morpheus's doing, I presume. . . . He has, however, already killed two minor technicians and a Draconis sublieutenant."

"And Shockwave?"

"As complacent as always, my Liege. I do not know what he did with your son, but he seems unchanged. Rumors of hope still float about the camps, but few truly expect Paladin to do anything but die."

"And Avatar?"

"I spoke to him, as you wished. He is only interested in the power that could be his if he helped restore the old order to the Empire. He knows that his mediocre technical skills have little value to you, so he hopes to gain favor with the Prime by exposing your secrets. As yet, he has nothing he believes the Prime will find worthy of sparing his life."

"And just what does he know?"

"That the Empire possesses a vast fleet of warships that are not being used against Earth."

"Then he is an idiot as well as an opportunistic leech. Very well, continue to monitor him, but the Prime is still your primary concern. And if you should happen to think of some way to convince him to leave. . . ."

"It shall be as you will, my master," the slender operative murmured as she bowed her head in acknowledgment of her orders. Ultra Magnus trailed his fingertips along the curve of her neck briefly, then turned away from her. She rose to her feel as silent as a wisp of smoke, then faded into nothingness as she phased out of normal space.

Time. Never enough where he wanted it and always too much where he didn't. If he could get the Prime to leave, he could recall his wayward son. If the assassin was truly his once more . . . then perhaps he would make Time his ally instead of his enemy.

A thin smile crossed his lips as he toyed with the datacrystal from Irradia. Primus Himself was smiling upo