CHAPTER SIX
--The Lost Light--
"You, uh, wanted to see me, captain?"
Megatron regarded Convoy carefully over folded hands. Once the clone had closed the door to his office (which had once belonged to Ultra Magnus), the former Decepticon leader wordlessly gestured to the chair in front of his desk.
As Convoy took his seat, he continued to stare back at Megatron with a confused look. "Forgive me for asking, sir, but is this really the best time for this? We've nearly reached Luna One and--"
"What do you remember?" Megatron asked.
Convoy tilted his head. "Pardon?"
"What is the earliest thing you can remember, before you were awakened on Outpost Two?"
Convoy looked baffled by the question. "I... I was created on Outpost Two, wasn't I? I'm just a clone; I can't have any memories earlier than that."
Megatron shook his head. "You and the others aren't clones. Not in the normal sense. Archforce and Toxitron... they were born on Cybertron like anyone else. But you... you are a special case. You had a life before you were ever a 'clone' of Optimus Prime."
"I'm not sure I follow...."
"Think. Surely you must have some inkling."
"I...." Convoy frowned as he scoured his memory banks. There were the dreams he had been having -- that he shared with Doomshot -- but they couldn't possibly mean anything... could they?
Still, he knew enough of Megatron to not want to disappoint him. Focusing on these snippets of memory, he concentrated on them with all of his mental might.
"I remember...."
* * *
"Prime, I'm just a soldier. I'm not worthy."
"Nor was I." The Prime's voice carried a hint of irony as he bore the Matrix of Leadership to his protege. "Or, at least, Dai Atlas would have you believe so. He and I parted on... unfriendly terms."
"He was one of your strongest supporters when you became Prime. Weren't both of you followers of Prima?"
The Prime sighed as he removed the Matrix from its chamber. "People change, old friend. I've changed. I'm not the same bot I was a millennia ago. Neither is Atlas or Galvatron. Or you."
"Please. I haven't changed a bit. I was just a soldier fighting for a just cause, just as I am now."
The Prime chuckled. "You underestimate yourself. I suppose I chose wisely then."
He handed over the Matrix. The receiver backed away, shaking his head. "I can't, Prime. I couldn't possibly be that kind of leader for Cybertron."
"You can. You already are. Alpha Trion said--"
"Trion says a lot of things, a lot if it exaggerated. Those times were different, Nova. I couldn't possibly fulfill that same role now."
Nova Prime frowned, disappointment in his eyes. "I trust you, Delta."
"Yes. But I don't trust myself."
* * *
Convoy shuttered his optics, rubbing his helmet crest. Somehow it was all coming together.
"I remember...."
* * *
"Delta Magnus will be remembered for his valor, his bravery. His utter lack of fear even when in the face of Death itself...."
It was rather surreal to be participating in one's own memorial service. The fact that he had been able to do so for the past five hundred years was another feat in of itself. And here he had thought no one would have believed a rusted t-cog to be a legitimate cause of death. Then again, he was fairly getting on in his years....
Once the services had concluded and everyone had departed, he was left staring at his own statue. It was a decent enough likeness, if somewhat exaggerated. The chin was far too large, chest too wide, shoulder pillars obscenely tall... it was definitely one of Chromatron's pieces. The proportions were all him; Polyhexians had a knack for self-indulging fantasies.
"Convoy, I presume?"
Pivoting on his walking stick, the old blue Autobot carefully regarded the red and black bot in front of him. He was Elite Guard by the looks of his build -- and insignia, of course. His mouthplate and helmet made him look like a candidate for the primacy... which probably meant he was.
"Optronix," Convoy said, nodding in acknowledgment. "I've heard of you. Sentinel's poster bot, aren't you?"
"You could say that." Optronix stepped forward, a serious look in his gaze. "I have a proposal for you?"
"Pardon?" Convoy snorted. "I'm retired, lad."
"And dead." Optronix tilted his head. "But that's not true, is it...?"
* * *
"Delta Magnus."
Convoy opened his optics to meet Megatron's gaze. The mouthplate was gone, as was pretty much everything that had made him an Autobot... yet somehow it felt like nothing had changed.
Well, Optronix had. But Convoy hadn't.
"I should've never said yes," he muttered.
"I'll admit, the Convoy Corps did not quite turn out how I'd envisioned," Megatron said. "We won, of course. The Destructons were defeated, but everyone turned out worst for it. Lio deserted for Eukaris, Big followed not long after. Grand let himself go, Galaxy vanished, Armada perished, and you...."
"I did the one thing I was good at," Convoy snapped. "I ran away. Faked my death once again. I fled to a world so remote that I thought no one would find me. But she did."
"Who?"
"Powerdrive. The one who calls herself Delta Magnus now. I don't know how she managed it, but she eventually found me after a thousand years, capturing me and wiping my memory so I could be used for her twisted machinations."
"But why you? Why go to such lengths for you specifically?"
Convoy shrugged. "Knowing her, it was probably to prove that she was the 'better Delta Magnus.' That she had accomplished more under my name than I ever had in my life."
"I see." Megatron leaned back in his seat. "So, what do you plan to do, now that you know the truth?"
"What do you suggest?"
Megatron shrugged. "It's your choice. You can run and hide again... or you can stay with us and do something with your life."
Convoy was silent for a moment as he stared at his feet. Then, quietly: "This will remain between us, right? The others won't know."
"Only if you want it that way."
Convoy slowly nodded. "Yeah... I think it's for the best."
* * *
Over the past few months, Elita-One had been given more than one reason to be glad she had handed the Lost Light over to Rodimus. Because from what she had heard of their adventures since, she was sure she would have been driven mad from the experience.
"So you've already been to Luna One?" she muttered, leaning on the bridge's upper railing. The hyperspace tunnel perfectly represented the current state of her processor.
"In an alternate timeline, yeah," Skids said, as if that would have cleared things up. "Not only that, but we also met Boltax. Except it wasn't quite the Boltax; he had long since merged personalities with WALL-E."
"Who?"
"Long story. Happened right before I met you guys." Skids waved it off. "But I doubt that'll be the case here, since in our timeline, WALL-E hasn't even been built yet."
"Right." Pretending she understood any of it, Elita directed her attention to Alpha Bravo, who sat at the ship's controls in lieu of Mainframe. "How much longer?"
"We should be dropping out any minute now," Alpha Bravo reported. "Although... it's kind funny."
"What is?"
"The coordinates Depth Charge gave us are exactly the same as Junkion."
Elita frowned. "How is that funny?"
Before the Wrecker could answer, the Lost Light dropped out of hyperspace. Coming into view was Luna 1 in all of its mysterious lost glory... and surrounding it, barely noticeable, was a ring of what appeared to be junk.
"You're right," Skids said. "That is hilarious."
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