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“...And his sacrifice was not in vain. He succeeded in protecting our forces and the Earth itself,” Elita-1 said.
Their headquarters seemed starkly-lit, like lightning had struck nearby. Alpha Trion—offline? It seemed to Chromia like just the other cycle he had constructed this new base for all of them!
“No, no! I don’t believe it!” Moonracer cried. “He can’t be! We’ve all survived so he can’t be!”
Sparks flew from the corners of her optics and Chromia, still stunned into silence, wrapped her arms around her and let her bury her face-plate against her chassis until she stopped thrashing.
“You are more right than you know, Moonracer,” Elita said. “Do not mourn, fellow Autobots. This is not a dark day for us. Optimus explained that Alpha Trion is not lost to us—we can speak to his spark through Vector Sigma.”
“Optimus can get smelted for all I care!” Firestar snapped. “Whenever he gets involved everything goes wrong. You almost went offline and now Alpha Trion has gone offline... we’d have taken back Cybertron already and Alpha Trion would still be with us if Optimus’s squabble with Megatron hadn’t been dragged back here.”
Elita regarded Firestar with a steely gaze. If Chromia did not know better, she would think Elita had a placid expression, but the flat, tense line of her mouth betrayed her pain. “I know that you are only lashing out because you are hurting, Firestar,” Elita said, “but I ask that you direct this anger at our common enemy, Megatron, for his dark schemes are to blame for what has taken place.”
Firestar just glared back.
“Alpha Trion was one of the oldest, wisest transformers,” Greenlight said. She was sitting beside her partner, Lancer, and they were holding hands in a crushing grip. Chromia felt a pang of empathy course through her circuits as she realized how much it looked like they were hanging on to each other for dear life. Greenlight continued, “We’ve lost so much knowledge and history by losing him... this only comes second to losing Cybertron.”
Elita shook her head slowly. “His knowledge is forever preserved. What has happened to him... is merely another transformation. He is not gone. As I said, we are even able to speak with him.”
A silence fell. Firestar seemed puzzled and backed down. Moonracer, who had stopped crying, gently emerged from Chromia’s embrace. “I’m confused,” Moonracer murmured.
“Alpha Trion was a first-generation creation of Vector Sigma,” Elita explained. “Lancer, I would appreciate it if you would explain to everyone why he was able to shed his frame—his shell—and become one with it again. Autobots, I did not mean to portray this event as a tragedy, merely as an update. Do not be troubled—it is the same as losing one base of operations and gaining another.”
Upon hearing this, Chromia finally engaged her vocalizer. She found herself reaching out for her leader. “Elita-1, you’ve said he’s like a father to you—aren’t you troubled?”
Elita’s optics were the blue of Cybertron’s dark sky. She rested her chin on her hand, as if lost in thought. “I do not believe it’s any different than it has been all along, when I would contact him using the hologram projector.”
“It sounds sparkless when you put it like that!” Moonracer exclaimed.
“He survives, and that is all that matters,” Elita said. Her philosophy was so different now than it was back when all the world was golden…
Elita held her steady after turning around and bumping into her with her new back kibble. “I’m sorry, Chromia, it’s times like these when I miss being slim.”
“Don’t worry, Elita-1, it takes everyone time to get used to a new frame. And seeing you going through the process is…” Adorable. “...almost fun.”
“I appreciate that. But I hope to put it to good use striking the Decepticons, and not my friends!” She paused. “I do enjoy this new voice. I think it’s very soothing and commanding to listen to. But I believe it’s only natural for me to mourn for Ariel.”
When Elita chose to venture out to confirm the news about Alpha Trion and Vector Sigma, Chromia of course insisted on accompanying her. As they drove through shadowy side streets, Elita commed her and said, “I appreciate your company, old friend, but I could have taken the journey alone.”
“Wouldn’t Shockwave have increased security around Vector Sigma after it gave life to new Autobots?” Chromia commed back.
“It is possible, but I can handle any of Shockwave’s drones myself. And Optimus explained that the ancient security systems were already dealt with.”
“I suppose if Optimus Prime says it, it must be true,” Chromia said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “But just in case we run into any Seekers, it’s for the best if I’m with you.”
After all, it was not Optimus Prime who had detached his own windshield in a desperate bid to provide Elita cover from the Rainmakers’ acid rain as Elita fired into a crowd of sentinels.
“In here.” Elita’s firm voice pulled her out of her musings. Elita transformed and pulled Chromia into a nearby alleyway. They hunkered down in the shadows as one of Shockwave’s watchdogs—a mindless hovercar—sped by.
As they waited to see if more would pass, Chromia said in a hushed tone, “I’ll be happy to see you reunite with him, Elita-1.”
“I’m sure that you will be.”
Chromia smiled slightly.
“I understand that this news was upsetting to my Autobots. They need reassurance.”
Chromia’s fragile smile fell and Elita ventured back out into the streets. The two of them continued on foot and stayed close to the buildings, out of the pools of light from the occasional beacon above that shone a sulfurous yellow.
“If there’s one good thing about the way Cybertron is running low on energy, it’s that it makes it far easier for this squad of mine to hide,” Elita once said. Even after being stranded on a world on life support, she was still able to jest after the cities one-by-one went dark.
Chromia could not afford to let her gaze be downcast—she had to remain alert—as she realized the last time that side of Elita had surfaced was with Optimus Prime, only for him to turn and walk away nanoclicks later. After millions of years apart believing each other dead and then the two of them nearly being killed by the Decepticons, how could anyone let her go so easily? Yet Elita was still so excited as she stood there waving goodbye.
If Optimus Prime was always as cold as he had been with Elita, Chromia felt sorry for Ironhide. Even Chromia had let herself embrace him after they had been apart for so long, it was the least she could do to heal some of that wound. And if she and Elita were ever to be separated for ages at a time and then finally reunite... well, Chromia certainly would not be able to hold back a torrent of emotion.
And speaking of not holding back, there, surrounding the pit that was the only entrance to the tunnel leading to the chamber housing Vector Sigma, were scores of sentinels with blasters at the ready.
Chromia brandished her energon axe which hummed with power, ready to strike, but Elita put a hand on her arm and bade her remain. “Battling these drones is an unnecessary risk,” Elita said. “We will wait until a cycle comes in which the tunnel is left unguarded.”
“But... who can say how many stellar cycles that could take,” Chromia said.
“We have as much time as Vector Sigma remains online. It’s time to return to headquarters.” Elita turned away, but Chromia caught her lingering glance toward the tunnel entrance before she did.
“No.” Chromia rushed at the sentinels. “You will be reuniting with Alpha Trion this solar cycle!”
“Chromia! Stop, please!” Elita yelled, but Chromia did not look back.
She brought her axe down on a sentinel’s head, splitting its frame in two, then ducked under blaster fire from the others, spinning and cutting the legs off the two nearest to her. Knowing she had to stay low, she transformed and sped into the flailing crowd of them tire-first, knocking them over one after the other—only for her charge to be halted when one shot from a blaster struck true and melted her back tire. She hit the hard metal ground and transformed back to robot-mode. Dizzy from the impact, she did not react in time before their claws were upon her.
A rosy blur smashed into the sentinel, sending it flying, and as Chromia’s optics followed the blur Elita came into focus as she hook-kicked the drones, grinding her tires into their heads, and then she leaped into the air and showered them with blaster fire of her own, triggering a chain reaction of explosions. With her visor aglow and her helm framed by pylons that reached for the sky, she looked like a star of her own.
She performed a flip and landed gracefully by Chromia’s side with no fanfare. After quickly scanning the area for any approaching threats, she lifted her up and pulled her toward the pit. They both dove in and slid down, emerging in the ancient tunnels. Despite the oppressive atmosphere, Chromia jumped to her feet and exclaimed, “Amazing work, Elita-1! Now we can—”
“No. We are not doing anything yet, Chromia!” Elita’s voice was booming in the tight corridor. “Shockwave has certainly been alerted to our position, you disregarded my direct order—how could you do such a thing when I know you to be so reasonable? I am furious with you!” The light of her visor was searing.
“It is a relief to hear you admit to feeling an emotion!” Chromia snapped.
Elita’s optics widened. “You are completely out-of-line. I’ve never seen you like this…” she said, ruefully. “I expect you to explain yourself.”
Chromia sighed. “I’m sorry, I know that was the wrong thing to say,” she said. “But Elita-1… I… please understand, as your friend, I can’t bring myself to sit back and let you keep living in uncertainty for what could be stellar cycles after the bot who was like a father to you went offline! And before you say that it’s no different than it was before—we know that just isn’t true. You would have been separated, unable to speak to each other for who knows how long…” she trailed off, wondering if it was appropriate to speak so freely with her leader.
As if hearing her thoughts, Elita said, “Continue. I can tell this is not all that is weighing on you.”
“Fine. Don’t you think that you out of all the Autobots deserve to feel sorrow and anger at the thought of being separated from one you hold dear, not knowing if he’s alive or dead?” It was like a circuit had been completed, and Chromia could not keep her words from rushing out. “I can’t take this anymore. When Cybertron fell, you never grieved. When we were left behind, you never grieved. When you and Optimus Prime nearly died and our base was destroyed, you never grieved. When he left you behind once again, you never—!”
Elita’s hands tensed into tight fists. She marched past Chromia, heading deeper into the tunnel. “This is not the time for grief. We will grieve if we survive until the war’s end, if our home is restored.”
Chromia reached out and took her hand, stopping her in her tracks. “There is no ‘we’ in this, Elita-1. This is about you... about my old friend,” she said, softly. “I know you are hurting, and I want to help you.”
Elita stilled in Chromia’s grasp, but did not turn to meet her gaze. She simply stood to her full height, her frame in silhouette as her visor illuminated the walls beside her. She looked like an impassive monarch from Cybertron’s Golden Age. Chromia was struck by this change that came over her as Elita pulled her hand away. “You don’t understand,” Elita said, quietly. “You can’t understand. What it’s like… to love someone, to fall defending them, to have your very circuits rebuilt to match that person… only for them to walk away.“ There was a hitch in her voice, a glitch in her vocalizer. “If I were to permit myself to grieve, I would falter in my capacity as a leader. Every last one you could go offline because of me. There’s so much, that I-I don’t know if I’d ever operate properly again.”
“Oh, Elita… you’re right, I can’t understand how that feels.” Chromia’s spark was pulsing rapidly in her chassis, fluttering like so many plasma filaments. “But I understand what it’s like to… love someone who cares so much that you have to watch them sacrifice all the highs and lows of life in the name of protecting everyone, only for them to be destroyed in the process. I understand how much that hurts.”
“Chromia, what do you mean?” Elita finally looked her way.
Now it was Chromia who could not meet her gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, but no further words came out. With the warm light of Elita’s visor spilling over her, Chromia chose to kneel down, spark still trembling. She gingerly took one of Elita’s pale hands in her own, and pressed a kiss to it.
Elita gasped. Chromia wondered if her face-plate was blushing pink with energon the way she knew her own was based on how it burned, but she could not bring herself to look.
But then Elita gently tilted Chromia’s chin up and smiled gently down at her. “Oh, Chromia, how old-fashioned of you!” she exclaimed, sounding just like the cheery young warrior who had befriended her so long ago.
Chromia stood and the pair shared an embrace. “I hope this helps convince you it’s better to let yourself feel how you feel,” she said. “I know I’m much happier to see you like this!”
Elita snorted and Chromia could feel her smile against her. “You’re silly, but... yes.” She pulled back slightly so they could look each other in the optic, and her face-plate was indeed dusted with pale pink to match her frame. “If you want me to express my feelings... perhaps we should find out if I can make time stop even without using my special power.” She leaned in closer.
“Hm? What—” She had no time to ask before Elita’s lips were on hers. They were warm and soft and Chromia’s processor was filled with nothing but the two of them, together.
After what felt like forever but nowhere near long enough, Elita pulled away to say, “You were right to fight on, old friend. I can hardly wait to hear what Alpha Trion has to say about this!”
Chromia could only smile as they held hands, Elita leading and lighting their way forward.