Prime drives down the long insterstate highway with swift speed, yet an eased control. In the driver seat of his semi truck form sits an older man, large spectacles resting atop his nose just above a thin but wide moustache. The driver stares at the road, emotionless, watching the other cars as they go by.
As Prime makes his way toward NEST headquarters, his higher technological interface taps into the internet. Accessing multiple search engines and data processors, he searches recent activities, scanning for any word of Decepticon plots. What would take a normal computer a week, Prime does in minutes. He filters through the multiple forums of eager fans and skeptics who blog daily about the existance of the Transformers on Earth. Thanks to the Fallen, living in plain sight won't be as easy as it once was.
Quickly, three articles pop up in a side browser on Prime's AI. He hastily reads them, processing the data. Prime focuses on one article in particular, it's heading reading, "More than Meets the Eye: Aliens among us no longer secret". He excerpts the important points, making note of the journalist's point. "We have know aliens existed since the mid 20th century. But they've kept secret, watching from a distance and rarely showing their face. With the worldwide television station hacking we witnessed only months ago, and the battles that have been sighted across the globe in these past two years, are these aliens becoming more forward? Does this mean they are ready to come out of hiding and show us their true faces? Or does it mean, perhaps, that they are ready to take over. That they no longer need to hide. That there truly is nothing we can do." Prime sighs, dissapointed and slightly irritated.
"Human media..." he says, closing the window in his browser. Suddenly, his scanners detect a signature closing in. He closes out of the search engines and browsers and focuses on his radar. As he watches, an average sized figure begins to close in on his location. Prime looks to his mirrors, hoping to catch a glimpse of the threat. As he stares, he sees a sports car closing fast, kicking dust up behind its wheels as they spin wildly. "So, that's how it is..." he grumbles. As Prime readies himself for combat, his sensors suddenly detect two more signatures. "What?" He says in surprise. As he scans again he locates one coming from the north-west, flying swiftly in the air. The other he detects driving toward him at his nine, coming from the side blindly, most likely hidden by the forest at the side of the highway.
"Well that's just-" Prime cuts off, stopping himself mid sentence. The sports car behind him begins to close, weeving in and out between cars to catch up. The sound of honking horns and screeching tires fills the air, the angry shouts of drivers griping about the wreckless driving of the closing Cybertronian.
As the sports car closes, the bogey from the side reveals itself. A motorcycle blazes through the trees, the rider atop it holding on tightly. As Prime stares closely, he notices the rider is bouncing on the seat, his arms tensing and relaxing as he speeds forward. "Too realistic..." Prime says sternly. "That's no hologram..."
As the motorcycle closes, it weeves between the oncoming traffic, making manevuers no human could pull off. The moves are calculated, too thought out and planned to be made in the spur of the moment by a human rider. Prime pulls off into the empty lane farthest on the right, trying to protect the human drivers on the road. As he pulls off, his speed drops - he is ready.
"PRIME!" A voice growls, the tone piercing like steel scraping against itself. The sports car suddenly transforms, its parts and body morphing even at the high speeds. Sparks fly behind him in the wake, showering the cars behind him in fiery metal. As the robot transforms, his feet stay wheels, allowing him to maintain his velocity. He moves like a man on roller blades, skiing between the cars as he approaches the Autobot leader. "Come on, DO IT!" He shouts, an evil smile on his face. "Reveal yourself in front of them!"
"Yes," two voices cry out as one. "SHOW THEM!" The motorcycle suddenly transforms, thrusting its rider forward into the air. The human figure moves through the air with ease, showing no fear - no error. He lands on top of Prime's cab, gripping tightly onto his metal shell. "We know your face," the cyclist snarls. "Show them yours!" The cyclist raises his arm high, holding it above his head. His hand suddenly transforms, the skin and bone melting away in a shimmer of metallic waves. A smooth chrome knife forms in seconds, encryptions of another language etched into its face. The cyclist smiles beneath his helmet, laughing maniacally. "TRANSFORM!" He screams as he thrusts the cool metallic dagger through the cab roof, plunging it into Optimus's body.
"YES!" The motorcycle says, his body now changed to his robotic form. "Rip him to pieces, Bludgeon! Show him our power!"
"You want to see my face?" Prime says with a roar. "I'll do you one better!" Prime's truck opens, the metal flaps pushing out and begining the familiar transformation. As he changes, an arm flies out from his side. It hits the roadway with strength, forcing his body into a roll. The transformer atop his hood flips off just in time, narrowly evading being crushed beneath Prime's weight. Optimus rolls off onto the side of the road, finishing his transformation and rising to his feet. He stands ready, poised to fight. The thick steel plates come down over his face and cover him, protecting his head from injury. He throws his right arm down through the air, jerking it heavily. A large gold blade extends from his forearm, coming out six or seven feet from his wrist. His offenders slow their speed, veering off to the side to surround him. "I'll give you one chance," Prime says graciously. "Leave now and you'll live to fight another day."
"HahahahahHAHAhahahAHHA!" The cycle transformer laughs.
"Please, Optimus, we know you too well." The cyclist says, transforming into the familiar Decepticon form.
"We amubshed you here for a reason!" The third speaks, his sharp gnarled teeth showing through the scarred and torched metal plates on his face. "You don't fight as well when you're distracted."
"Distracted by what?" Prime questions, his eyes trying to watch both the Decepticons before him and the human drivers zipping by on the highway behind them.
"Them." The larger one speaks, pointing over his shoulder. "You and your moral code. 'Protect life', right? The religion of the Primes."
"Leave them alone." Prime says in a deep bellow.
"We don't take orders from you anymore, Optimus." Bludgeon says proudly. "We don't believe in your lies and fallacies."
"But you'll believe Megatron's?" Prime says with a frown.
"He only wants order! Peace! You want war."
"If you believe that, Black Jack, then you are truly lost."
"Enough of your lectures!" He screams. He raises his arm swiftly, forming a cannon from the twisted steel covering his circuits and veins. "It's time for you to suffer." Prime shakes his head, his spark in pain for what he knows he must do. These transformers were once his men, Autobots that believed in honor and order. Now they have become corrupted by Megatron's deceit and lies. If only they would have listened. If only.
Prime raises his blade, pulling his arm back and tensing his joints. He raises his other arm and holds out his hand, palm facing the sky. He motions with it, offering them to attack. "Come on." He says, provoking them.
"FOR MEGATRON!" The Decepticons shout, lunging forward into an attack. Prime holds fast, shielding his body as they begin to rip and claw at his body. His sensors alert him to the third bogey he detected earlier - the attacker who still remains hidden. He looks to the sky out of the corner of his eye, hoping to catch a glimpse. Where are you, he thinks, staring intently toward the clouds. As Prime gazes, he feels a sharp pang in his left leg. The pain brings him back into the fight, leaving him completely focused on the battle at hand.
"You used to be some of my best," Prime says, raising his hand into the air. He thrusts it down in a cool swipe, smashing the thick metal of his arm against the neck's of his attackers, sending them flying back into the dust. "Now you are only wasted slag."
"SLAG!?" Black Jack exclaims, his pride weakened. He stares to the roadway behind him and laughs. "Slag this, Prime!" He points his gun backward and takes aim. Without hesitation, he fires, sending a fiery piece of explosive metal into the side of a passing car.
"NO!" Prime shouts, rushing forward to protect. The car flips through the air, burning up into a ball of fire and sparks. The driver inside screams for only a second - then silence. Prime roars in anger, his eyes squinted tightly. He grabs the Decepticon forcefully, wrapping his fingers around his scrawny neck. "You abomination!" Prime says, his anger coming forth. "You like to dispense violence? Let's see how you recieve it!" Prime thrusts his blade into the torso of the Decepticon. The sharp metal edges pierce with ease, slicing the coolant tanks inside and spilling thick blue liquid onto the sandy ground beneath.
"I was right, Prime..." the robot speaks weakly. "D-Distracted..."
The two smaller Decepticons roll around to Prime's back, raising their rifles high. They don't hesitate, surprise lasts only seconds. Prime looks over his shoulder to see the flashes of the blasters firing. The shriek of explosions fills the air, and soon all Prime feels is the sharp pain of melted slag in his back. He moans in agony as he drops Black Jack, sending him to stew in his own fluids.
Prime collapses in the sand, kicking dust high above him into a thick could. "Typical..." Prime says, shaking his head, trying to distract from his pain. "I forgot I was fighting with cowards."
"You are certainly revered as a god by your men, Prime." Bludgeon says, stepping forward toward the fallen leader. "But even Primus fell. Now," he speaks, forcing his knife forward from his arm. "You too will fall."
"You don't derserve the title of Prime."
Bludgeon crawls on top of Prime's body, walking forward and coming to a stop on Prime's chest. He holds the blade downward, pushing it between the windshield pieces and lightly jabbing it into his stomach. "Don't worry, Prime," Bludgeon says, staring into Prime's blue nebulous eyes. "Megatron will take good care of the Matrix."
"No..." Prime says, leaning forward. "That's alright," Prime thrusts his heels into the dirt and forces all his energy into his legs. With great power, he rolls onto his chest, crushing the Decepticon beneath his weight. "I think I'll hang onto it." Prime smiles as he rises to his feet, revealing the crooked body of the now smashed Decepticon beneath him. Prime turns to the third Decepticon, looking down at him with a look of pride. Bludgeon's arm protrudes from Prime's chest, the blade still stuck between his body's armor. He reaches to it and grabs the shoulder socket, pulling the arm from his body and throwing it to the ground. "Now...where were we?" He says in a deep intimidating voice.
"Y-You win this time, Prime..." The Decepticon stammers in fear. He leaps to the side and transforms back into the motorcycle. "We'll be back to settle the score!" Prime watches as the Decepticon speeds off into the highway, disappearing in the dense traffic. Optimus grunts as the plating over his mouth folds back into the sides of his head. He turns back to face the fallen bodies of the other two Decepticons, hoping to finish what he started. As he looks, he sees they are gone. All that remains is the dismembered arm of Bludgeon and the puddle of coolant from Black Jack, leading off as a pathway across the highway and into the forrest at the other end. Prime grunts, frowning in dissapointment. "Cowards."
As he looks around, he notices the highway is at a standstill, the vehicles all stopped in unison. The drivers peer out their windows, gazing in awe at Optimus as he stands tall. "It's alright," he says in reassurance. The fluid stained blade on his arm retracts, and Prime holds out his hand in comfort. "Carry on." He orders, nodding to the civilians. Prime turns his back and walks off, heading farther off onto the side of the road. "There goes my cover," he says, shaking his head. "Autobots...I ran into some trouble. I'll be a little late."
As Prime walks on, he soon transforms, breaking back down into his Semi truck alternate form. His engine revs and he trails off, heading into a new direction off road. As he drives, he can't help but think back to the bogey he detected at the start of the fight. "Who was that being?" He questions, noticing his scanners now indicate no signs of Cybertronian life in the area. "A mystery for another time..." he says, shaking off the intrigue of the figure's identity. His wheels spin as he drives off, heading back on course to his destination.
