Chapter Text
Optimus checked through his luggage again, making sure everything was there for his trip. This was his last chance to make sure he packed everything he needed. "Are you still packing?" Sentinel asked, resting his helm on his, servos grabbing his pauldrons as he peeked over to see the contents of his luggage.
"Not technically," Optimus replied, placing all of his things back into the carry-on. "I'm just making sure I have everything."
"For the umpteenth time!" Sentinel scoffed.
"Yes, and good thing I did as well." He pulled away from his amica. He opened some of his drawers, digging through the contents he decided he wouldn't need. "I almost forgot this." He picked up his less-than-completely-legal coding pen and stashed it into his luggage.
"Seriously? If you get caught with that by the wrong mecha-"
"It'll be fine!" He assured. "I'll only use it on my own datapads and will never use it outside the habsuite they provide."
Sentinel glanced at the pen before it disappeared when Optimus closed his carry-on. He crossed his servos. "I just don't want anything to happen to you. This is the first important mission we've been given after 'The Insectdent', y'know? I just don't want to get split up again."
'The Insectdent' —as Sentinel has designated it— was there less than smart decision to explore an off-limits planet to attempt to find an ancient Decepticon warship. The planet was home to a strange alien species that wanted to eat them alive. They had barely made it out and had gotten into serious trouble when they got back to the Academy, wrapped up in the purple string that the aliens spewed at them as proof of their little trip.
"I didn't know you cared that much, Sentimental," Optimus teased, a smirk playing at his derma.
Sentinel rolled his optics. "No way, I just don't want to be alone to face Elita's wrath," he replied.
"Well, we're about to face it." He picked up his carry-on and started to head out of his room. "Get your stuff before we're late!" He called over his pauldron.
Their first important mission after their little adventure on Arachna-7. They were almost expelled from the Academy after they were discovered to have gone to the forbidden sector. However, Ultra Magnus was impressed by their teamwork that allowed them to escape the organics and gave them one last chance to graduate and become primes. Though they wouldn't be allowed to join the Elite Guard any time soon and their trio was split up until graduation.
Even when they successfully became primes, the missions they received often had them splitting up and traveling to far-off sectors for quartexs. This was the first time in about three stellar cycles that all three of them, Optimus, Sentinel, and Elita, would be together on a mission. And this was one of the most important assignments in the history of Cybertron.
A possible peace treaty with the Decepticon forces; finally ending the war that had ravaged and disrupted Cybertronian way of life.
While it had gone cold in the last dozens of stellar cycles, there was always a constant threat of a rouge ship attacking and threats were often sent back and forth. And who knows just how much the Senate keeps from the public. But tensions remained high among all Autobot castes. At any moment, there could be a mass explosion or a planet invasion. Everyone lived in fear.
::Are you two one your way::
Elita commed to the blue mechs.
::Just about there::
Optimus sent back.
Which was very true. The ship they would be taking stood in its magnificent glory, drawing closer —and the crowd getting louder— as Optimus and Sentinel drove closer. They transformed at the edge of the crowd where Elita was talking with Botanica.
"There you are!" Elita immediately hounded them. She had become so much stricter during the few megacycles they were finishing up in the Academy. That terrifying moment she almost fell into the clutches of the organic creatures had done a number on her programming, understandably of course. "You were almost late!"
"Key glyph, almost!" Sentinel replied as a minibot took their luggage and ran up to the ship with their stuff. "Besides, Optimus was the one who was doing last-minute packing."
He shrugged sheepishly. "I was just checking to make sure I had everything."
"It's no worry!" Botanica assured them, leading them down the path that split the crowd in half. The excited mecha waved and whistled as they watched the rest of the 'peace party' board the ship. "You're just on time, really. Now, you three remember your main task, correct?" She glanced back.
They nodded, not answering until they were inside the ship with the doors tightly sealed. "Secure a good public image for the Autobots by mingling with the common folk," Optimus answered for his trio. "I don't understand why we need to be so secretive about such a simple thing," he murmured.
"There's Decepticon spies everywhere," she reminded him. "They may twist your extension of friendship to an act of deception to get on their good side and might perceive it as a threat."
"Isn't it technically an act of deception to get on their good side?" Elita refuted.
"Not completely," Tracks said, approaching the group. They were standing in for Alpha Trion, the mech claiming he was too old to go himself. It was clear they wanted to make a good impression with this mission, possibly to help their future campaign to become a senator that everyone knew they were mapping out. "We're not expecting you to be anything other than yourselves. There is no need to act outside of how you already do. That's why we brought you on after all," they explained, simple and precise as always when on duty. They began leading the trio down the halls of the ship, Botanica heading off in a different direction.
"So you want us to just be ourselves?" Sentinel confirmed, wrapping his arms around Elita and Optimus pauldrons, holding them close.
"Essentially. Be yourselves on your best behavior." They looked over their pauldron with a sharp expression. "Pull nothing like Arachna-7."
"Trust me, I have enough PTSD from that place," Elita replied, shivering at the thought of those creepy crawlies.
"But why us, exactly? Not that I'm complaining, but I feel like there might be more diplomatic bots suited for the task," Optimus questioned.
"Your task isn't necessary diplomatic." Tracks opened a door and led the trio into a well spaced sitting area where all their luggage for the trip had been stacked. "You're forming a public image for us to the common of New Kaon," they continued their explanation. "And you three have a..." they turned to them, searching for the right glyph, "a certain appeal, I suppose."
"We do?" Optimus arched an optic ridge.
"Certainly charismatic enough to keep yourselves from getting into too much trouble," they reminded.
"Well, yeah, but have you seen Optimus's pouty face? No one can deny that," Elita responded, grabbing his cheekplates and squeezing them teasingly.
"Hey!" He complained, brushing her servos away.
"I have," Tracks answered. "But even then. You three have a certain... charm, I suppose you could say, about you. One very useful in gaining support of the public optic. If they like you, they'll support us, which in turn allows us a slight advantage on Decepticon turf."
"So you want us to be the pretty faces of this operation. A front to the campaign?" Optimus confirmed.
"In a way, yes." Tracks nodded before gesturing to the three doors located perfectly center on each wall. "You all have a personal habsuite and washrack while this communal area is for you three to share. You can refuel down the hall. There's no doors. It's an open archway, you can't miss it," they swiftly debriefed them. "Get comfortable but don't unpack too much. It'll only be a few solar cycles before we get there."
And with that, they left the trio to their own devices.
"Always knew we were charming, just didn't realize it'd be such a vital tool," Sentinel proudly joked, elbowing Optimus.
"I'm sure Elita and I are the ones who are doing all the heavy lifting with that claim," he replied, pushing his amica away.
Sentinel feigned offense while the femme laughed. "It's alright, Sentinel, we'll need someone to boast about our monumental accomplishments," she joked, walking away to her things.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, optics slightly narrowed.
"It means you just need to be yourself," Optimus answered, poking his helm into one of the rooms. It was big. The communal room had been larger than the trio's entire apartment, which was quite sizable thanks to Elita's family's high caste placement, and their rooms were only slightly smaller. There was a large berth that could probably swallow a mech whole, a desk with way too many storage compartments, a datapad shelving unit that would see better use on longer trips, and a door to what is presumably the washracks.
"Anything good?" Elita asked, looking around him.
"Nah, not really," he replied, opening the door fully. The automatic lights finally flickered on. The room bore no personality, though that was unsurprising as the ship was owned by the Senate, who bore even less personality. The walls had no art or color other than the light blues that bordered on white that seemed to be the color palate of everything owned by the government.
He plopped down onto the berth, laying back. "Berth is comfortable though," he commented.
"Oh good." She sat down next to him. "Wouldn’t want our dear princess Sentinel to be uncomfortable."
"I heard that!" He called from the communal room before entering the habsuite, servos on his hips. "I'll have you know, I spent almost a megacycle recharging on the hard, uneven ground of Eukaris!"
"And how much did you complain about that?" Optimus asked.
Sentinel grabbed one of the helm rests from the berth and slammed it down on Optimus's abdomen, making him lurch and curl inward. He chuckled, rolling away.
Sentinel buried the other mech's helm in the cushion before collapsing on the berth next to him. "Oo this is comfortable!" He hummed, snuggling down into the mattress.
"Knew it." Optimus smiled, closing his optics and tucking his servos under his helm.
"When we get to New Kaon," Elita started, laying back, "what's the first thing we gonna do?"
"Well, if we get there on schedule—" the ship shook as it started up, slowly lifting from the ground— "we'll arrive during morrow. The first meeting isn't until past noon, so we'll have only a few cycles on our servos," Optimus said. "They will most likely escort us to the rooms will be staying in for the duration of the trip as soon as we land, so I presume we will spend most of our time in there prior to the first meeting unless we need to refuel."
"What a bore," Sentinel grumbled.
"I think it will be a useful time to review Decepticon culture. Make sure no one offends anyone," Elita responded, overshadowing Sentinel's complaint. They both shot him a stern glare.
Sentinel rolled his optics. "Yeah, yeah."
Sentinel had always been a brash character. Optimus was pretty certain the first thing he said to him was an insult. However, he was still able to be humorous and show his care toward his amica to win him over in the long run. Even if that bit him in aft sometimes.
"The meeting will probably last into the lunar cycle," Optimus continued, looking back at the ceiling. "So we probably won't be able to do much the first solar cycle."
Which was a little disappointing, Optimus had been hoping to find an archive or public library. Somewhere where Decepticon literature wouldn't be censored or edited. But, as debriefed when first assigned this mission, he, Elita, and Sentinel were expected to attend the meetings. Not that they could share much input, being unable to address the assemble unless asked to, though they could theoretically make a suggestion to an ambassador and they can bring the topic up if they deem the suggestion a good one. However, they were luckily only required to sit through the meetings. Any other official events they were excused from unless told otherwise, though they were highly encouraged to attend them, especially if invited by a Decepticon. As if a Decepticon would invite any of them to anything.
"I hope I get to see one of their shopping centers. I heard that they make beautiful jewelry," Elita said with a smile, as if imagining the things she'll buy.
"We'll come with you," Optimus replied, Sentinel making an odd sound at being unwillingly volunteered, though he made no retort.
"You better." She elbowed him lightly.