CHAPTER FIVE
--The Lost Light--
Megatron had barely rolled away in time as Nemesis Prime brought down the axe, hitting the spot on the bench where the Decepticons' head had once been. Optics flaring, Nemesis reoriented himself as Megatron stumbled towards the door.
"Running away, are we?" the dark Prime said, storming towards Megatron. "Did you leave your ball bearings behind when you came back?"
"Optimus, listen to me," Megatron replied, hand over his chest. "You have to fight it. You can't let Nemesis take over--"
"Then why did you make me?" Nemesis roared, swinging his axe at Megatron. It struck the Decepticon in his midsection and he staggered out of the medbay, backing up against the wall.
"You created me to lead your Warriors Elite," Nemesis went on, tightening his grip around his axe. "I was to be the face of the Decepticon Army; the enforce of your rule. And this... this how you treeat me?"
"I only created you because I knew Orion would never join me willingly," Megatron replied. "It was the only way to bring him to my side."
Nemesis stopped, his optics boring into Megatron's. "Why Orion then? Would such an effort not be better used on a strong Autobot, like Ultra Magnus or Thunderclash?"
"Perhaps. But here's the thing."
Without warning, Megatron sprung forward and tackled Nemesis to the floor, pinning him there. The dark Prime's axe fell out of his hand and Megatron kicked it out of reach.
"Neither of them are my brother."
"Your brother is gone!" Nemesis Prime growled, struggling against his assailant. "You cannot get rid of me without killing him as well!"
"I can, actually." Lifting a hand, Megatron extended a small needle from his finger. "You're a virus, Nemesis. And like a virus...."
He plugged the needle into Prime's neck, eliciting a cry of protest.
"...You can be transferred."
Nemesis' screams slowly died out as his programming was uploaded into Megaton's processor. The Decepticon's red optics briefly flashed purple while the Prime's black colors returned to red and blue. Once Optimus Prime had been fully restored, Megatron retracted the needle back into his hand and helped his brother back to his feet.
"Better?" the former Decepticon leader asked.
Optimus groaned as he rubbed his neck. "Ugh. What... happened...?" He stopped when he noticed Megatron standing in front of him. "You."
"Me. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Before Oprimus could answer, Ratchet approached the brothers, having recovered from Nemesis' assault. "What did you do?" the medic asked Megatron. "To Nemesis. Where is he?"
"Right here." Megatron tapped his temple. "I've transferred him from Optimus' processor into mine."
Both Ratchet and Optimus tensed at this. "Will he...?" the latter began.
Megatron shook his head. "I created him. I know how to keep him at bay."
"And you can't purge him from your systems?" Ratchet asked.
"Not without killing myself in the process."
"I see." Ratchet looked between the two brothers, feeling the awkward tension. From around the corner came Rodimus and Ultra Magnus, along with a security detail led by Red Alert.
"Nobody move!" Magnus ordered, raising his gun.
Optimus held up his hands. "Relax, old friend. I'm all right. Megatron's--"
"You." Magnus pointed to the ex-despot. "Show Prime what you're carrying."
Optimus arched an optical ridge as he turned to his brother. "Show me what?"
Megatron sighed but said nothing as he opened his chestplate. There, within the crevice that would have held his spark chamber, was a glowing crystal sphere held withing a twin-handled container.
The Matrix of Leadership.
Optimus' optics went wide. "How...?"
"I don't know how," Megatron said quietly. "It's been with me since I reawakened. All I know is that it's the one thing keeping me alive."
"You mean...?"
"If I remove it, I will die."
Everyone was silent as they all stared at the Matrix, looking from it to Optimus. As they all waited for the Prime to speak, Rodimus suddenly received a call from the bridge.
"What's up, Mainframe?" he asked, putting the pilot on speaker for everyone else to hear.
"We're detecting another vessel emerging from hyperspace," Mainframe replied. "A very large one."
"Like, Titan sized?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
Rodimus grimaced. "I'll be there right away." Ending the call, he returned his attention to Optimus and Megatron. "This Matrix business can wait. We've got bigger things to worry about."
"Agreed," Megatron said, closing up his chestplate. "This can wait."
Optimus continue to eye his brother for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Let's go."
* * *
"Sorry I'm late," Skids said as he stepped into Que's lab. "I was visiting Ariel and Rampage."
"I see," Que said, not looking up from the weapon he was tinkering with. "You've grown close to those two, have you?"
"Well, to Ariel, yeah." Skids rubbed the back of his head. "Rampage is a different story... I mean, he's okay when he's not acting bloodthirsty... but he's kind of always acting bloodthirsty."
"Uh-huh. Close the door, will you?"
Skids did so before turning back to the inventor. "What's up, Que?"
The blue Autobot sighed as he set down his tools and steepled his fingers. "I've received orders from Prowl. You're not going to like them."
Skids grimaced. "Since when have I ever liked them. What is it?"
"Prowl has increased his efforts in investigating the Secret Order," Que began to explain. "He is aware that Quickswitch is involved with the Secret Order and that he was once Ariel's commanding officer."
Skids slowly nodded. He had learned all of this from Rung and Ariel herself. "Yes, and...?"
"Prowl suspects she is tied to the Secret Order. As such, he has ordered that we dig into her memories to uncover what we can."
"You mean... mnemosurgery?"
"If we can get Chromedome to help us, then yes. If not, I have a device that can--"
"No." Skids shook his head. "I refuse."
Que blinked at him. "What?"
"You can't do something like that to a bot like her," Skids said. "You've seen her. She's the most innocent bot you'd ever meet. To use her like that is just... it's...."
"It's not like we'd be using shadowplay on her," Que said. "We'd only be searching her memories."
"Trust me, Que, I've experienced mnemosurgery firsthand. It's not a fun experience."
Que stared at the agent, his long-time partner. "You've been a field agent for over two hundred years," he murmured. "Not once have I ever heard you refuse to obey an order."
"There's a first time for everything," Skids replied, crossing his arms.
Que's hand drifted down, disappearing under his table. "Please... at least reconsider...."
Skids noticed what the inventor was doing and he frowned. "Really, Que? After everything we've been through?"
"You know the price for disobedience," Que murmured. "It's something all agents understand and agree to when they join. Don't tell me you expected a different outcome."
"The war's over, Que. Things have changed. Surely even Prowl realizes that."
"The war may be over, but the mission is not." Que's hand found the deactivation button. He began to apply pressure. "This is your last chance."
Skids said nothing, remaining rooted in place. Behind him, the door opened and a bullet shot past his head. It hit Que square in the face and the inventor fell to the floor....
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