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Rodimus yawned. He double checked the navigation charts. At least he was still on course. He slumped back in his chair and rubbed the healing bite wound on his shoulder as the day's (or was it week’s?) events replayed through his brain.
The Autobots received multiple reports of simultaneous Sharkticon incursions across the galaxy. He dispatched Springer and Arcee with a battalion of troops to the larger signals and took on the smallest force all by himself. He figured they could cover more ground apart, but what if that was the wrong choice?
What would Optimus have done?
Rodimus pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the imminent headache. While all the Sharkticons were defeated, it wasn’t without cost. The Autobots sustained casualties and there was a great deal of collateral damage. No matter what he did, all of his choices seemed wrong. It always felt like he should have done something different. Maybe Optimus could have seen a way to defend all the planets while minimizing damage.
The worst part was Rodimus knew he wasn’t the only person with these doubts. Even if the others never said anything, he could see the same unspoken question in their optics:
Would Optimus have done better?
Rodimus vented deeply. He reminded himself that the Matrix chose him. Rodimus opened the Matrix, became Prime, and defeated Unicron when no one else could. And yet not a day went by where Rodimus didn’t wonder why? Why did the Matrix open for him when there were so many more qualified people it could have chosen?
His shuttle’s proximity alert startled him out of his thoughts. He had arrived at the Vis Vitalis. For the first time today, a genuine smile tugged at Rodimus’ lips. Tension eased out of his struts.
Whenever Rodimus introduces himself as the new Prime, most Autobots simply look disappointed. Though they keep smiling, it no longer reaches their optics. Optimus left a massive set of tire tracks to fill. Try as he might, there was no way Rodimus could live up to his predecessor. And everyone knew it.
Everyone except Thunderclash.
The first time Rodimus met Thunderclash, the renowned Autobot explorer whose war injuries had kept him out of front line combat for ages, he braced himself for the same reaction. The rogue captain towered over him in every sense, all glittery flash and effortless charm, more of a perfect Prime than Rodimus could ever hope to be. Thunderclash offered his complete confidence with a genuine smile and a hearty handshake. Rodimus bristled. Anyone that believed in him so adamantly must either be lying or stupid.
Sooner or later Thunderclash would reveal his true colors. He wouldn’t be any different than the rest.
But as their paths crossed more frequently, Thunderclash’s demeanor never wavered. He smiled. He laughed. He treated Rodimus like an equal. More importantly, Rodimus never saw even a shadow of disappointment darkening his deep crimson optics.
Apparently, boundless optimism and earnest kindness were Thunderclash’s true colors. Along with absurdly bright rainbow glitter polish.
Before long, Rodimus began to genuinely like the big idiot. Whenever he was with Thunderclash, he felt more like himself than he had since the Matrix took up residence in his chest. As time went on, he actually found himself jumping at any opportunity to spend a little time together.
Which is why he was currently chasing down Thunderclash’s ship on the Outer Rim, lightyears away from the most efficient course back to Cybertron.
“Hey, Thunders. I was in the neighborhood,” Rodimus lied. Sure he made a special trip to see the big bot, but Thunderclash didn’t need to know. “Mind if I drop in?”
Static fizzled over the comm channel.
“Thunders?”
Still nothing.
“Okay, Thunderclash. This isn’t funny. Please respond.”
Worry gnawed at Rodimus’ spark. Thunderclash always answered his calls immediately. Although it might be a simple comms system malfunction, there was no shortage of danger in the far reaches of the galaxy.
When Thunderclash didn’t reply, Rodimus steeled himself and piloted his shuttle into the larger ship’s open docking bay. Although he kept the comm channel active, all he heard was static.
Rodimus cautiously disembarked. Broken lights flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows in all directions. Black scorch marks peppered the walls.
“Blaster fire,” Rodimus muttered. He drew his sidearm and crouched in the darkness. Forged in war, Rodimus knew the signs of a struggle all too well. Worse yet, the ship felt empty. Thunderclash’s gregarious personality had an uncanny way of filling any space with warmth, but right now cold silence pressed in on Rodimus from every side.
Fear dug its icy claws into his spark. Rodimus crept forward, using his own shuttle as cover. There were so many scorch marks, they almost seemed to form a pattern. He bent down and rubbed his finger through one. Warm soot covered his hand. With blaster burns this fresh, whatever happened here must have occurred not long before his arrival.
It must have been a hell of a battle, but why were there so many stray shots?
Rodimus didn’t have to wonder for long.
As he stepped away from his shuttle, Rodimus saw that the laser burns weren’t simply random, but made with purpose. They didn’t form a pattern, they formed words.
“YOU THOUGHT I WOULDN’T FIND OUT! HE’S MINE NOW.”
“Oh goddammit.” Rodimus muttered. He holstered his sidearm. Only one person would use a laser cannon to carve a note in the walls of a cargo bay.
Galvatron.
Rodimus groaned. He drew his palm down his face and raced back to his shuttle. He wasn’t sure what the Decepticon warlord was up to, but wanton destruction and forcible abduction had his name written all over it. He didn’t even need to sign the perplexing ransom note.
Not waiting for his engines to come fully online, Rodimus kicked his ship into gear. He blasted out of the Vis Vitalis’ dock while his control systems were still booting up. If Ultra Magnus were around, he’d probably have issued Rodimus several citations for his reckless takeoff procedure. Once free from the ship’s cargo bay, Rodimus gunned his engine and broke the galactic speed limit many times over.
As he hurtled through space like a fiery comet, Rodimus set his scanners to search out the Revenge. The laser cannon etched message in the Vis Vitalis was very fresh. Galvatron’s ship couldn’t have gone too far. Sure enough, a blip pinged his radar in a nearby asteroid belt. Rodimus yanked the shuttle’s yoke and adjusted course. If Galvatron thought hiding amongst the asteroids would save him, he had another thing coming.
Rodimus plunged directly into the asteroid belt. Whipping around gigantic chunks of space debris kept his focus on piloting and not worrying about Thunderclash. The Autobot captain had safely explored the Outer Rim for years, assisting whoever needed a helping hand… until now. Rodimus winced. This whole situation was his fault. He put Thunderclash in danger. Galvatron likely targeted Thunderclash because of his association with Rodimus.
While torture wasn’t normally part of Galvatron’s repertoire, Rodimus didn’t put anything past chaotic warlord. And with Thunderclash’s old war injury…
Rodimus shook his head before his thoughts could get any worse.
He barrel rolled through a field of tumbling rocks and threaded the needle between two massive asteroids. The blip on his radar screen drew ever closer.
Unable to ignore the cold fear welling up inside his spark any longer, Rodimus activated his comm system. He hailed the Revenge and hoped Cyclonus answered. Galvatron’s second in command was alway the more rational of the two.
When Cyclonus’ image appeared on his screen, Rodimus squinted. The Decepticon warrior’s deep purple paintwork shone like a dancing nebula, reflecting a variety of hues from indigo to violet with subtle hints of magenta. Was Cyclonus always so sparkly?
Rodimus reset his optics but Cyclonus still shone like a thousand suns. Rodimus tapped his screen to no avail. Something must be wrong with his monitor. He’d have to fix it later.
“Ah, Rodimus Prime.” Cyclonus nodded a greeting. “We’ve been expecting your call.”
“What have you done with Thunderclash?” Rodimus demanded.
“Right to the point.”
“Damn straight!” Rodimus struggled to maintain an even tone. “I swear to Primus, if you hurt one single circuit on his-”
“Perhaps you should speak with Lord Galvatron directly.” Cyclonus cut him off. “I am quite certain that you have his personal comm frequency.”
Rodimus groaned. Cyclonus wasn’t wrong. Galvatron did indeed give Rodimus his personal comm frequency. The mercurial warlord insisted that since Optimus and Megatron had each other’s frequencies, he and Rodimus should as well. Apparently it had something to do with arch nemesis honor code? It was too much trouble to argue, so Rodimus simply accepted.
“Tell him I’ll speak to him in person. I’m two minutes out. Open the cargo bay doors.” Rodimus commanded. He disconnected the comm.
Dodging a moon-sized asteroid, the Revenge loomed into view. Larger and more foreboding than Thunderclash’s Vis Vitalis, Galvatron’s purple warship lurked amongst the silver space rocks like a wolf among sheep. Rodimus approached from the side, careful to avoid slipping into the range of the forward mounted moleculon missile launchers.
Finding the cargo bay doors open as requested, Rodimus deftly maneuvered his shuttle inside. Beyond caring if the whole situation was a trap, Rodimus was on his feet before the shuttle finished docking. He drew his blaster and leapt from his ship.
“GALVATRON!” Rodimus roared.
“Greetings, Prime.” Galvatron purred from his perch on the catwalk above Rodimus’ shuttle. The warlord’s purple paintwork glowed like a predator’s eyes in the shadows. The unusual shininess took Rodimus aback for a second, but he quickly regained his train of thought.
“WHERE IS HE?”
“Oh, please. Almost everyone on board uses those pronouns. You’ll have to be more specific,” Galvatron waved off Rodimus’ rage with purposeful disinterest.
“I didn’t come here to play games.” Rodimus growled. He aimed his blaster at Galvatron’s chest.
“Coming aboard MY ship and making demands,” Galvatron chuckled. He nonchalantly caressed his fusion cannon. “How perfectly forward of you! It’s almost as if you expect me to comply.”
“Damn straight I expect you to comply. You know exactly who I’m talking about. What have you done with him?” Rodimus didn’t dare speak Thunderclash’s name for fear of his voice breaking. He tightened his grip on his blaster.
“AH HAA! You see! Now THIS is proper arch nemesis banter!” Galvatron laughed. He leapt off the catwalk and landed heavily on his feet. He stalked towards Rodimus, each step thudding louder and louder on the floor as he approached. “Don’t you see what we have together? You and me.”
“Wh- what?” Rodimus stammered. He wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion or the worry but he had no idea what Galvatron was talking about. His mind raced in circles.
“What we have is special! And you are going to throw it away?! Like I mean nothing to you?! Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Galvatron reiterated the words scorched into Thunderclash’s ship. He halted before Rodimus and raised his fusion cannon. It glimmered with a subtle red sparkle, deepening its usual orange.
Distracted by the strange metallic shimmer adorning his cannon, Rodimus simply stared, dumbfounded.
“WELL?!” Galvatron demanded.
“Well what?!” Rodimus exclaimed. Between the exhaustion, fear, and confusion, he abandoned all attempts at being intimidating. He threw his arms up in exasperation. “What the hell are you talking about?!”
“I’m talking about YOU finding a new arch nemesis!” Galvatron jabbed Rodimus’ chest with the accusatory jealousy of a jilted lover.
“I- You- WHAT?!”
“Oh. I know all about him.” Galvatron started pacing, gesturing wildly with his hands. “You used to seek out the Revenge whenever we crossed paths to do battle like proper arch nemeses, but lately you’ve been chasing a rogue Autobot all over the galaxy. Once you flew right past my ship without even noticing me! To go after him! Granted, this Thunderclash is rather impressive, but he’s not the Harbinger of Destruction!! What’s he got that I don’t have?!”
“Oh sweet Primus.” Rodimus buried his face in his hands. He mumbled, “This can’t be happening.”
“Oh it’s happening!” Galvatron roared. He brandished his fusion cannon and struck a magnificent pose. He blasted the ceiling for good measure. Charred bits of debris floated down around them. “I AM GALVATRON! LORD OF CHAOS!! Who could possibly be a more suitable arch nemesis for the Prime?! How dare you try to replace ME!!”
Rodimus vented deeply. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Mustering the most even tone he could under the circumstances, he stated, “Thunderclash is NOT my arch nemesis.”
“Hmph,” Galvatron scoffed. He dramatically folded his arms and turned slightly away. “A likely story.”
“It’s likely because it’s true.”
“Then what is he to you?”
Rodimus’ cheeks lit up bright pink.
“Well?” Galvatron insisted. “If this glittery buffoon isn’t your arch nemesis, why do you see him so much?”
“I- uh- I dunno-” Rodimus floundered. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his helm. How was he supposed to answer that question when he wasn’t entirely sure himself?
“You are RODIMUS PRIME!! Commander of the Autobot Armies. Dreaded Foe of Quintessions! Bearer of the Matrix of Leadership!! Surely you must know!”
“Look- I just- I like him, okay?” Rodimus snapped. His spoiler drooped. He probably shouldn’t admit his feelings to someone like Galvatron, but all those fancy titles took him off guard. Besides, he didn’t really want to deny it.
“You like him?!” Now it was Galvatron’s turn to stare in confusion.
“Yeah. He’s kind and funny and… believes in me when no one else does.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.” Galvatron scoffed. “I believe in you.”
“You do?”
“Don’t be a fool! Of course I believe in you! What kind of arch nemesis would I be if I didn’t? I am GALVATRON! Chaos Bringer! Destroyer of Worlds! Only a truly glorious opponent could match me. I wouldn’t waste my time on someone unworthy of my magnificence!”
“Wow. Thanks.” Rodimus huffed a soft laugh. “That- uh- that oddly makes me feel better.”
“Curses! I am not here to make you feel anything! Except PAIN!! Let us communicate through the ancient art of combat!” Galvatron whirled into a defensive posture.
“Can we- maybe- not?” Rodimus holstered his blaster and rubbed his sore shoulder. “Let’s save the combat for another time. It’s been a rough couple of days. Just let me see Thunderclash. Please.”
“PLEASE!!! PLEASE?! LORD GALVATRON IS NOT SWAYED BY BANAL PLATITUDES!” Galvatron bellowed. Despite the bluster, he lowered his fusion cannon. “But I will not do battle with an unfocused opponent. There would be no glory in such an easy victory. Worrying over your beloved's status is distracting you.”
“Whatever.” Rodimus thought “beloved” was a bit much, but if it meant he’d get to see Thunderclash, he no longer cared what Galvatron thought about their relationship.
“CYCLONUS!! BRING FORTH THE PRISONER!!”
The door to the shuttle bay swished open. Cyclonus marched through. When the lights caught his paintwork, he lit up like festival fireworks. Rodimus’ spark leapt. Nothing was wrong with his optics or his monitor. Galvatron’s unusual shininess suddenly made sense as well. Only one person could be responsible for such immaculate shine! If anyone could get abducted by an unhinged band of chaotic Decepticons and convert them all to the wonders of glitter polish, it was Thunderclash!
“Sir.” Cyclonus addressed Galvatron. “You know we have a fully functional comm system. You don’t always have to yell.”
“I AM NOT YELLING!!” Galvatron yelled. “I am exercising vocal authority! Now! Where is the prisoner?”
Cyclonus gestured to the open door. Footsteps approached. Rodimus strained his audials. He picked up snatches of a conversation as two figures walked into the shuttle bay.
“I’m not as sleek as Cyclonus or as imposing as Lord Galvatron. You really think I could pull it off?” The shorter one asked.
“Oh, Scourge. I don’t think, I know.” The taller figure confidently replied. “A bit of indigo glitter would add incredible depth to your blue paintwork. And we can try a complimentary color for your claws. Maybe a little pink? I'll be sure to have some next time we-”
“THUNDERS!” Rodimus shouted. All of the insanity of the past few days came to a head at the sight of the rainbow Autobot. Tears stung Rodimus’ optics.
“RODDY!” Thunderclash gasped. He burst away from his captors.
Rodimus raced to meet him. They collapsed in each others’ arms in the middle of the shuttle bay.
“I was so worried,” Rodimus muttered. He dug his fingers into the seams in Thunderclash’s armor and pulled him tight.
“I knew you’d rescue me,” Thunderclash nuzzled his helm. “I told everyone.”
“Really?” Rodimus asked, still finding it hard to believe someone had that much confidence in him.
“Yes. Really.” Cyclonus deadpanned. He rolled his optics. “Loudly. And repeatedly.”
Rodimus melted in Thunderclash’s arms. His worries, his doubts, all his cares faded. Rodimus was supposed to be the one doing the rescuing, but right now he felt the tables may have turned.
A shadow darkened Thunderclash’s trademark rainbow shine. Rodimus didn’t even need to look up to know that Galvatron loomed over them.
“Hmmm… This is NOT typical arch nemesis behaviour.” Galvatron narrowed his optics. “I suppose you were telling the truth. You do simply like him.”
Rodimus’ entire frame lit up bright pink.
“Aww! You told Galvatron you liked me?” Thunderclash teased.
“Well-” Rodimus couldn’t deny his feelings. Not while wrapped in Thunderclash’s warm embrace. “Yeah.”
“I like you, too.” Thunderclash said softly. “So very much.”
“MWA HA HA HA HA! Excellent!” Galvatron exclaimed.
Rodimus hunched his shoulders. That can’t be good.
“I’m glad you’re so happy for us,” Thunderclash beamed.
“Yes. Yes. Your little relationship plays right into my hands!”
“What are you talking about?” Rodimus asked. He wriggled out of Thunderclash’s arms and edged protectively in front of him.
“Thunderclash is NOT your arch nemesis! You love him.”
“Yes. We’ve established that,” Rodimus said. He narrowed his optics. Technically he said like, not love, because he wasn’t sure how Thunderclash felt and didn’t really want to have that particular conversation in front of an audience, but Galvatron was more or less on the right track, so he let it slide. Wherever Galvatron was steering this train of thought, it was bound for disaster.
“And do you know what peak arch nemesis activity is???”
Unsure what Galvatron was getting at, Rodimus remained silent.
“Kidnapping your loved ones!” Galvatron answered when Rodimus didn’t respond. He burst into maniacal laughter.
“GALVATRON NO!!” Rodimus yelled.
“GALVATRON YES!!” Galvatron bellowed. “It’s perfect! When your glittery beloved least expects it, I’ll attack his ship and capture him, just like I did today! You’ll have no choice but to hunt me down and do battle for his safe return. It is a classic arch nemesis tactic. Very villainous for me, very heroic for you.”
“Don’t you dare!” Rodimus growled. His inner fire burned. As much as he raged at Galvatron, Rodimus knew all this situation was actually his fault. If Thunderclash had never gotten involved with him, he’d never be in the warlord’s sights. Perhaps it would be best if they stopped seeing each other? “You leave him alone or I’ll-”
“It’s okay.” Thunderclash interrupted their argument.
“WHAT?!” Both Rodimus and Galvatron rounded on him.
“I said, it’s okay,” Thunderclash shrugged. “If I get kidnapped, I know you’ll rescue me.”
“But- but- it’s not okay!” Rodimus stammered. “It’s madness!”
“It’s your life, Roddy.” Thunderclash smiled with such warmth Rodimus’ knees went weak. Before he could collapse, Thunderclash grasped his hand. “And I want to be part of it.”
“Thunders…” Rodimus whispered. Sparks danced along his spoiler.
“OoooOOOooo!” Scourge whistled. “Is that a proposal?” Cyclonus elbowed him.
“I suppose it is a proposal of sorts,” Thunderclash’s cheeks glowed soft pink. He clasped Rodimus’ golden hands gently in his own. “Rodimus, you make me feel like I can be more than a broken down old soldier. Your courage and dedication to the people under your protection are inspiring. I would like to be part of your life. In whatever way that you’ll have me.”
“Wow. Do you mean all that?” Rodimus asked, feeling utterly unworthy of such adoration while simultaneously basking in it.
“Absolutely,” Thunderclash pulled him into a fierce hug.
Clap clap clap.
Rodimus and Thunderclash looked up from each other to find Galvatron slowly applauding.
“This- this-” Galvatron waved his arm vaguely around them. A wolfish grin spread across his face as he turned to Thunderclash. “This is perfection! All this “love” and whatnot will really raise the stakes when I kidnap you.”
“About that.” Thunderclash squared his shoulders against the Decepticon warlord. “I have a few requests.”
“GALVATRON DOES NOT ACQUIESCE TO REQUESTS!!!”
“Be that as it may,” Thunderclash politely continued with such unbothered serenity that Rodimus snickered. The unstoppable force has met the immovable object. “If you give me a little notice before you abduct me next time, I can make sure I have enough supplies for a few days. Like medi-patches to treat my spark condition, maybe some energon goodies, and of course a wide array of glitter polish colors.”
“Energon goodies!” Scourge squealed. “Boss! You gotta-” Galvatron silenced his excited soldier with an intimidating glare.
“Hmm… glitter polish colors you say?” Galvatron mused. He twisted his forearm, admiring the way light played across his new dark purple glitter polish like smoke on water. He leaned close to Thunderclash and whispered, “Even more Deep Space Nebula?”
“Especially Deep Space Nebula. I knew that color would suit you.” Thunderclash nodded. He held up a large blue hand as if to shield his next words, but his booming voice was loud enough for all to hear, “And maybe some Crystal Comet optic-liner.”
“Optic-liner?!” Galvatron gasped.
“It would really highlight the ferocity of your crimson optics.” Thunderclash added with a wink. “We can try it on next time.”
“Hmm… as nemesis to the Prime, I must look my best.” Galvatron muttered before exclaiming, “VERY WELL!! You drive a hard bargain, Autobot. I, Galvatron, Lord of Chaos, accept your terms.”
Galvatron extended his hand which Thunderclash hardily shook. When Thunderclash moved to let go, Galvatron tightened his grip and pulled him close.
“See you in seven to ten days!” Galvatron smirked.
Rodimus opened his mouth to protest, but Thunderclash responded first with a smirk of his own.
“You know where to find me.”
“Oh, Prime! You’ve selected a fantastic partner!” Galvatron burst into laughter. Cyclonus buried his face in his hands like he wanted to die of embarrassment while Scourge delighted in the possibility of energon goodies in his near future.
“Let’s get out of here,” Rodimus whispered.
“Yes. Let’s!” Thunderclash agreed.
Rodimus yelped as Thunderclash scooped him up into his arms and quietly slipped away. No one hindered their escape. Thunderclash gently carried Rodimus all the way back to his shuttle. They blasted off with no interference, though Rodimus kept an optic on the moleculon missile launchers just in case.
Once the Revenge’s signal faded from radar, Rodimus vented deeply and leaned against Thunderclash’s broad sparkly chest.
“Sorry about all that,” Rodimus mumbled as he snuggled into Thunderclash’s embrace.
“Were you the one who kidnapped me?” Thunderclash playfully asked.
“No, but-”
“Then you don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Despite Thunderclash’s reassurance, guilt gnawed at Rodimus’ spark.
“No. I’m totally fine. For all his bluster, Galvatron is weirdly polite. He is very into the whole “Lord” thing. They are all actually quite nice, in a chaotic sort of way, once you get to know them. And they loved learning about glitter polish.” Thunderclash chuckled. The subtle movement of his laughter tickled Rodimus’ frame.
“Still… you wouldn’t be on Galvatron’s radar if you weren’t involved with me.”
“Oh? Are we officially “involved” now?” Thunderclash teased. He nuzzled Rodimus’ helm.
“You’re the one who proposed in front of my self-proclaimed arch nemesis,” Rodimus teased back. He playfully elbowed Thunderclash for good measure.
“I suppose I did,” Thunderclash laughed. “I meant every word too.”
Ever since Rodimus became Prime, he felt like he lost control of his life. Everything he did was subject to the scrutiny and disapproval of people he didn’t even know. Once he opened the Matrix, he was more Prime than Rodimus. Nothing truly belonged to him anymore… except this moment. Right now, the love he shared with Thunderclash was real, and more importantly, it was his.
“I’m glad,” Rodimus smiled. The authenticity of the gesture shocked him to the core. For the first time since he took up the mantle of Prime, he was truly happy. “Because my life is nothing but a series of increasingly staggering waves of chaos.”
“Then I’ll stand by your side and we’ll meet that chaos head on. Together!” Thunderclash promised. His rainbow glitter polish sparkled under the blinking lights of the ship’s instruments panel.
Rodimus melted into Thunderclash’s embrace.
“Speaking of which,” Thunderclash rubbed the back of his helm with a sheepish grin. “Mind if we swing by the merchant’s bazaar on Troja Major on the way back to my ship? There’s a vendor there who always stocks a wide variety of glitter polish colors and another who crafts delicious energon goodies. I have a feeling I’m going to need both very soon. Say… in roughly seven to ten days.”
Rodimus snorted. Thunderclash fit into the insanity of his life with such ease that he had to laugh. When Thunderclash joined in, Rodimus laughed so hard his vent fans wheezed.
Still giggling, Rodimus changed the navigation coordinates to the merchant’s district on Troja Major. They’ll face whatever chaos comes their way together, but it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared!