Chapter Text
Old Iacon
In the subterranean Autobot HQ, the sudden burst of light from the Space Bridge, the crowning feature of the Palace of the Primes, left the usually dim city-scape as bright as a sunburst. For a moment, a rush of panic hit as the fear of a bombing overtook all, before the actual cause was discovered.
As he’d been busy helping Elita to get the main city area in order, Optimus hadn’t been able to get in to the main cause of the issue until several hours after it happened. To his relief, the area had already gotten into position, with Prowl overlooking the situation as Ratchet ran a diagnostic. Two guards stood to either side of the main gate, shooing curious civilians off. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, he recognized as he got close.
The twins reacted immediately as he drove up. “Optimus, sir!” Sunstreaker called out, taking the lead as usual. “We’ve got the area locked down.”
“Good work,” Optimus returned, taking his robot form as approached. “Any update on what happened here?”
“We haven’t heard anything yet,” Sideswipe replied. “We were just-”
Any further explanation was interrupted by a sudden onslaught of percussive maintenance and a number of colorful exclamations that signaled a stall in the investigation. “I’ll take that as an answer,” Optimus stated, giving the twins a nod. “Remain where you are; you may be needed.”
“Sir, yes sir!” The twins threw a second salute before moving to let him pass.
As he made his way into the palace courtyard, he found the source of the exclamation. Ratchet was glaring down at the portable control panel that had been plugged into the base of the still-glowing Space Bridge. Prowl was also nearby, rapidly trying to straighten out a pile of carved schematics that, from the look of them, had recently been used in a makeshift discus throw.
Seeing Optimus approach, Ratchet let out a growl. “Dang it, Prime, I’m a medic, not glitching Space Bridge tech!”
“I suppose there hasn’t been any progress in figuring out what’s going on,” Optimus commented, choosing to ignore his medic’s choice of tone and language.
Prowl opted to answer instead, using his usual matter-of-fact tone. "We actually have determined the Space Bridge to be in far better condition than previously assumed, sir. It appears to be receiving Energon from an unidentified source, which was what caused the unexpected powering.”
“Unidentified?”
“Whatever happened,” Ratchet translated, “it was from another end. The end we aren't on."
“So we can’t control it?”
“At this time, no.” Prowl seemed content with straightening his files and tucked them under one arm. “There also doesn’t appear to be any logical reason for the Bridge to power on now, not at least without anyone messing with it. It also seems to be implausible from the other end, since no one's attempted to come through.”
“And the odds that it was on our end?” Optimus asked.
“Slim but not impossible. That’s what Ratchet was looking for when we ran into…” Prowl trailed off a little under the heat of Ratchet’s glare. “...technical difficulties. And, might I add, it would be imprudent of us to try to cross through without someone on our end who understands how this all works.”
Optimus nodded at the advise. “Agreed, but there in lies the difficulty. I understand Space Bridges are a rather niche field of study,” he commented, circumventing another rant from Ratchet. “Do we know of anyone more experienced with the field?”
“At this moment, I’m uncertain.” Prowl crossed his arms and tilted his head in thought. “There might be some files on anyone with a history of research in the field. It’s going to be pretty rough, though. We’ll probably need to dip into university files.”
“Do it,” Optimus ordered. “If it is prudent to ask for their help, it’ll be the best option we have.”
Now alone, Optimus started to examine the glowing space bridge for himself, when his radio buzzed a few moments later. “Jazz to OP! Got an update surface-side, and it’s really something!”
“I’m here, Jazz,” Optimus commented, stepping off to one side. “Does it have to do with the Space Bridge incident?”
“From what we’ve dug up,” Jazz returned, “it’s not just Old Iacon. Just about every city-state’s gotten a Space Bridge lit up like a festival.”
“That’s going to make things rough,” Ratchet murmured as he worked on disconnecting the consol. “If all of Cybertron lit up like this, that means most to all experts will have their servos full. No one will have time for us.”
“That Doc-bot on the other end?” Jazz asked, noting the new voice.
“Yes,” Optimus returned. “Ratchet’s here, examining our bridge. Work’s slow, though, and Prowl just went to comb the university records for a Space Bridge expert.”
“Oh, no need to do that!” Jazz’s voice carried a chipper tone. “I know just the bot to talk to!”
“He won’t be too busy?” Optimus asked.
“Not unless the farming lull season’s ended."
“I’m sorry, what?” Ratchet paused and turned with an incredulous look. “What would a Space Bridge expert have to do with an Energon farm?”
“Never finished his degree,” Jazz explained. “But if I know Bulkhead, he’ll be happy enough to help.”
“That clutz!” Ratchet exclaimed, though further protest was cut off by Optimus with a gesture.
“Are you sure Bulkhead won’t be too busy?” he asked, keeping direct eye contact with Ratchet.
“Won’t hurt to check,” Jazz replied casually. “It’ll be a little bit of a drive to get out to the Lithium Flats, but Ol’ Iacon will’ve drifted closer by the time we’ve had some time to talk.”
“Do it,” Optimus ordered.
"You got it!” Jazz assured. “Just make sure the bridge is still standing when we get back.
Before Optimus could answer, there was another clunk followed by a line of threats from Ratchet. “We’ll do our best,” Optimus assured. “Good luck.”