randomplaces | TG 'verse. Daniel Witwicky Conference Center, Iacon. Time enough.

If I have to listen to one more idiot whining about things being harder for organics there will be pain, thought Panacea from where she sat next to Rodimus' empty chair. And if these slagging Trithians don't stop trying to assassinate people right at the table I'll slagging turn them all into toasters!

"Don't do that," said her spark-mate from further down the table, where he had one of the squat aliens in a headlock. "People don't want to die. We're here to talk about stopping people from dying, remember?"

"But *gack* it's a holy blade! He would have gone straight to the best *glack* reward." The Trithian squirmed, eying the confiscated knife wistfully.

"No. It's not your job to decide when and where people go. You'll just tick Primus off." Rodimus looked toward the leader of the group. "Do we really need this guy here? He keeps interrupting things."

"No," said the skinny Trithian female from behind the hand that she had over her face to hide her mortification at her head priest's zeal. "Please feel free to remove him."

"Right. Red Alert...." Rodimus lifted his head, then frowned and turned it. "Hey, where's the Security Chief?"

"He got a family call, sir," said the black and white Enforcer who walked over to accept the still squirming Trithian.

"What?" Panacea looked up, her frustrated boredom falling away like water as she commed the medic she'd left in charge of the twins. "Slagging pit...."

Rodimus' face dropped. "Sunstreaker?"

"She died half an hour ago." Panacea balled both hands into fists, then pressed the thumbs to her faceplate where most mechs had a mouth.

Rodimus leaned his hands on the table and stared at it blankly for a moment.

Then he lifted his head and pinned each one of the leaders and aids at the table with a piercing look. "Like I said, we're here to talk about stopping people from dying. Sunstreaker was one of Cybertron's best soldiers. She and her twin sister led their squad, and they never backed down. She gave everything she had to try and keep her fellow Cybertronians, and all of you, safe. She's safe now where nothing will ever hurt her again. But we're still here. And we have something a lot more important to focus on than who you don't like because they don't look like you, or how jealous you are of the other guy's life expectancy."

His optics went to the outworld human who'd been making snide remarks about humanity being too frail to enter into a battle with ancient, indestructible beings. "Do you want to know what the average life expectancy for a Cybertronian is right now?" He waited for the man's slightly fearful nod, then said quietly, "Five thousand years. We've lost so many to this war, and so many of them were freshly made. Don't talk to us about indestructibility and immortality. Have you ever wondered if your child would be able to understand the concept of 'peace'? Have you ever wondered if she'd live to be counted an adult? We do, and our Terran allies do. And don't tell yourself that I'm only a machine and I don't know what... what I'm talking about."

He wiped at the streaks on his face and straightened. "I'm calling a recess. Be back in an hour."

"Prime?" A battered old Mini-bot stopped to look up at him as people shuffled and pushed chairs back and headed for the doors, and he took a moment to recognize him.

"Ironsides." He put an arm around Panacea as she walked over to hug him. "Right, you served under Sunstreaker."

"I did." The dark grey and green mech nodded, his slightly faded optics showing the emotion that didn't make it to his grim faceplates. "And there's no bot I'm prouder to have worked with."

Rodimus nodded. "She was crazy, but she got the job done."

Ironsides chuckled as he reached up to shake the Prime's hand. "Words I wouldn't mind on my own record. But I'd better go let my team know."

"Yeah." Rodimus managed a smile, though he wasn't feeling one, then watched the old soldier walk away.

"I wish to offer my condolences." Threnody had walked up as he spoke to Ironsides, a limp little green and yellow Seeker held under one of her arms.

Rodimus' smile became a little more genuine as he looked at the sparklet. "No fair. I don't get to do that."

The young Galvatronian Empress's mouth twitched. "Runt would gladly exchange the privilege with you, Rodimus. His limitations vex him greatly."

"Give him time." He looked over to where Scourge and Astrotrain hovered watchfully.

"We will have that time. Your Sunstreaker helped to ensure that, as did Frenzy."

"Yeah." Rodimus' optics glistened as he looked up at her again, and then down at his spark-mate. "We will."