Yeager Chronicles: After Extinction

3: Optimus

Optimus had been gone for years, and had seen many different planetoids in his travels. And to his dismay, once friends dying at his servos. One thing is for certain, he'd changed mentally and physically. He learned over time that words would not ever be able to win wars, if the death of his home was a consolation. He hated that fact but Optimus bared it by arming himself with a large array of weapons. And the few friends that were still functional after all this time, especially after the loss of Ratchet to the humans. He barely held himself together emotionally after finding out that he was murdered by humans for his metal... He really still hated Joshua Joyce for what he did, albeit not himself physically, he still had a hand in having his longtime friend killed.

Now, he was close to just giving up on the search for the creators – his creators – and just destroy the Seed. Optimus couldn't help but pace back and forth on the ship he was on. An old friend and thought to be long-dead Amica bond, Nightblade, caught a glimpse of him flying nearly aimlessly through the stars. Thus taking it upon herself to get him inside the ship, though through less than appropriate methods... That mess can be skipped for later explanation.

Nightblade, stood in the doorway of his HAB suite that she had set up for him, just watching him loose his cool in what he thought to be a private entity. But after a good amount of time, Optimus actually noticed the femme just standing there.

His face plates stayed lax, but his optics showed a tired and irritated glow. "Did you care to knock?" Optimus' voice sounded dry, hoarse really. It didn't help that he was still thinking too many things at the moment to allow his vocalizer to sync up with his processor. The femme, Nightblade, only shrugged. "Woulda. But you left the door open." She sighed. "But you looked busy with yourself so I waited." Optimus nodded and kept back at his past pace back and forth around the room. "What has gotten you so bothered? I don't think I have ever seen you like this."

His pedes came to a stop, servos going to rest on the back of his neck. "I – I don't know how to explain." His digits massaged the cabling in his neck to try an ease the tension. "Why not try from the beginning? Sit." Optimus didn't notice that he was being ushered towards the berth, the two sat down. Optimus tried to collect his thoughts, this was a first in a long time that he wasn't able to think straight. But, now that he did think about it, the last time was when Cade was on that ship... Telling him to look at all the junk and to see the treasure... to have faith in themselves, in who they are. After a few kliks, Nightblade was still sitting there, still waiting. There was no way she was going to leave him alone until he said something; especially if he was bothered so badly as to pace around the room enough to make his joints squeak.

After a bit more time, he snerked out a sound of defeat and leaved back on his servos. "You really want me to start from the beginning?" Her servo landed lightly on his knee joint, "Wherever you're comfortable." He nodded, appreciative of the fact she wasn't pushing him for anything. It's nice to have someone who will listen vice someone needed to be listened to. Optimus sighed and leaned forward, now resting his elbows on his knee joints.

Instead of starting with what really was bothering him, a question popped from his vocalizers before he had coherent thought of it. "Have you heard of Earth?" The strong voice faltered, it sounded hurt and kind of lost the mech everyone knew as their leader. The femme nodded, "Yeah. I've been there, that's where I got my jams. Most of them."

"Well," He sighed out, optics narrowed on the hard steel floor in his HAB suite. "before you found me that's where I came from." She stayed silent, but he could feel her optics. They were almost urging him to continue, wordlessly. "I left friends behind, old and new ones. I left them without a leader; I abandoned them, and the war's still not over. By this rate, it never will be over until we are all deactivated. I've been foolish, looking for our creators, it's a waste of time and energy. Am I even doing any of this right? To add to the fact, I left friends, I let Jazz, Ironhide, and Ratchet all get deactivated because of my ignorance. I could have saved them. I couldn't even save Sentinel..." His vocalizer cracked. Sentinel was their leader before him, before he took the name Optimus Prime, before the young Orion Pax had any thought of being leader to anyone. After a moment of longer of silence, "You were right, he was corrupt. He sided with Megatron... and in the end, I-" Choking static took hold, he leaned down further, trying to hide his face with his servos and knees. Nightblade started to rub the Prime's back, thumbing sensitive seams. It used to always calm him down when he was younger and not burdened with holding in his emotions or the burden of being leader.

"It's okay. You did what you had to. You can't blame yourself." His venting hitched. How could he not blame himself? He was their leader and he failed them! He of any mecha should have been able to do the basic thing of keep your soldiers alive. But no, he hadn't even managed that. "How come you're so sure?" His voice sounded broken. "Why can't I blame myself? I'm their leader – was, was their leader. They're dead now and I didn't do what I had to! I fragging let them die!" His voice became a roar. Why would he blame himself? Bad things will always happen, even if we try to prevent it all from ever occurring.

Nightblade winced and pulled back from him, but she quickly collected herself. "The hardest part of being a leader is being able to accept the miss fortune that comes with it." His frame jolted up right, optics burning into her, it didn't stop her. "You can't blame yourself. I won't allow it. You did the same for me, way back when. Don't you remember?" Her voice in volume lowered in such a way that made him lean in to be able to hear what she was saying. "The same hatred, the same guilt rocked me. It ruled me." Her own voice lowered to a whisper, Optimus barely leaning forward to hear. "But you were there for me."

"And then you were 'murdered'." Nightblade scoffed, his optics looked at her questioningly. "That is not the point, Orion. You were there for me when I was a broken mecha. I want to be there for you, as long as you let me." Her voice grew a bit, servo coming to land on his knee joint. Giving the knee a reassuring pat. He sighed and leaned back again, with his weight resting on his servos. "I don't want to burden you with any of this. With my pointless ramblings."

The old femme smiled. "Don't think of it as you burdening me, because you're not, nor will you ever be. But think of it as me doing this because I want you to be okay." Her light purple optics glistened at the Prime. Some of his own grown guilt drifted off but some still lingered on what it felt like was his frame; dragging him down and holding him stationary. At first his voice failed him, after a moment of still allowing the words seep through the cracks of his armor, he tried again. "Thank you, Nightblade." He sighed, but for the first time in a long time... or since before the last time he saw Cade, he smiled a small smile. She returned it and patted his knee once again as she pushed herself up. "Come outta here when you're ready. Dinner will be served as we reach the next system." Starting to wheel herself away slowly.

"Dinner?" Stopping, "Don't tell me you've forgotten what dinner is." Optimus sighed again. "I guess I'm just not used to the idea of fueling." Shoulders shrugging, he leaned straight up and proper. Nightblade turned and tilted her head with a quizzical look. "Well, mister, you're might want to get used to the idea on my ship."

"Perhaps so."