Actions

Work Header

the ceremony planner

Summary:

Magnus still doesn’t quite understand how the peace agreement came about. Optimus had apparently been arranging—diplomatic meetings—with Megatron for some time before revealing the nature of these private outings to any of his command staff.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“You're what made me what I am, Megatron. The whole time I was a Seeker, what I was really seeking—was your love…” 

—Starscream: The Movie


Ultra Magnus sets down his datapad when the base computer pings him, notifying him of the time. 

“Good afternoon,” Magnus says, addressing the assembled Autobot and Decepticon command staff.  “The recess has concluded, and I now call this meeting back to order.  Any delegate wishing to re-introduce themselves may do so at this time.” 

“It’s been half an hour,” Jazz says, leaning precariously back in his chair.  “And we’ve all been shootin’ at each other for eight million years.  If anyone’s needin’ introductions, they need to get their brains checked for dataworms.”  He leans forward again and lets the chair fall back to the floor with a clang.  

“That was not an introduction, Jazz,” Magnus tells him.  “If there are no introductions I will move forward with the agenda.  As a reminder, a condition of our peace agreement is that all meeting participants must maintain a strict code of non-violence.  Physical assaults of all kinds are forbidden. Therefore please take note that any individual who throws projectiles, including datapads, furniture, or other objects, will be promptly expelled from the meeting.” 

Magnus looks carefully around the room, ensuring that everyone understands. He favors Starscream and Ratchet with particularly long looks.  When no one objects, he returns to the agenda. 

“The next item on the agenda is the Ceremony of Reconciliation,” Ultra Magnus says.  “I propose that we install a ceremony planning committee, made up of an equal number of Autobot and Decepticon members, and co-chaired by a designated representative from each faction.”

“Seconded,” Optimus says.  “And of course I nominate you as the Autobot chair, Magnus. Megatron?”  

“Fine,” Megatron says. “As long as it gets done, I don’t care how you do it.”  

As part of their peace agreement, Optimus and Megatron have agreed to produce a sparkling together at a formal Ceremony of Reconciliation in six Cybertronian months.  Naturally, this leaves Ultra Magnus responsible for planning and officiating the ceremony, and also naturally, Optimus and Megatron have provided no guidance regarding its structure, although no such ceremony has ever been held in Cybertronian history. Therefore Ultra Magnus is also required to develop a meaningful and legally binding ceremony that takes into account the history, values, and observances of both factions—without favoring either Autobot or Decepticon tradition—which will be the penultimate moment in the first lasting peace agreement to be developed in over eight million years of warfare. It is to be followed only by the formal treaty signing, which Magnus is also responsible for.  

“I will establish a planning committee and begin developing the Ceremony of Reconciliation immediately,” Ultra Magnus says, already putting a recurring weekly planning meeting on the calendar, in between meetings for formal treaty development.  He looks at Megatron. “Will you be appointing Shockwave as the responsible Decepticon representative in this process as well?” Shockwave had, of course, been responsible for the initial handover on Cybertron, cementing their peace agreement.  

Starscream scoffs.  “That overpowered calculator couldn’t plan so much as an after-hours get together if his fuel pump function depended on it.  Obviously I will be planning the ceremony.” 

“And have it turned into an assassination attempt?” Megatron growls.  “I don’t think so.  Soundwave will do it,” he adds, much to Magnus’s relief—certainly he is capable of professionally collaborating with Stasrcream, but to do so in this case, in addition to their work together on the treaty, would be an onerous and nearly punitive task.  Soundwave, sitting silently on the other side of Megatron, is not nearly so difficult to work with.  Ultra Magnus adds him to the meeting series as a co-administrator.  

“What!” Starscream yells, and it takes several long minutes and Megatron pounding a dent into the tabletop with his fist before Magnus manages to call the meeting back to order. 

“Perhaps Jazz could also assist with the planning aspects,” Optimus suggests, once Starscream is no longer being disruptive.  “He and Blaster planned a number of celebrations for us while we were stationed on Earth.”  

Ultra Magnus nods, firmly ignoring an unhappy twinge from his emotional subsystem.  “I will add him to the committee membership,” he says. Jazz will need to be carefully managed; Magnus knows well that his sense of decorum is—somewhat lacking. 

“Sure, but let Ultra Magnus handle the official bits,” Jazz says.  “I’m callin’ dibs on plannin’ the after party.”  

That responsibility is one Magnus is more than happy to relinquish.  Although after a moment’s thought, he assigns Prowl to provide oversight, in order to ensure that no diplomatic incidents result from Jazz’s celebratory practices.  

The rest of the meeting passes without serious incident—although Ratchet does have to be prevented from engaging in a physical altercation with Scrapper, of all people—and Magnus is able to adjourn the meeting with everyone’s commitment to a half-day of treaty negotiations in a week’s time.  He spends a few minutes reviewing his notes for accuracy before finally leaving to collect his ration.  

Magnus still doesn’t quite understand how the peace agreement came about.  Optimus had apparently been arranging—diplomatic meetings—with Megatron for some time before revealing the nature of these private outings to any of his command staff.  The first Magnus heard of it was after being asked to review a potential peace agreement with some extremely specific terms which did not seem to be Autobot in origin.  When he asked Optimus for clarification, Optimus admitted to meeting privately with Megatron for some number of months, and that they’d come to a personal agreement to seek an end to the war.  

“And we will have to be certain that our terms are ironclad,” Optimus said, “because although Megatron is willing to come to an agreement now, I fear that if we quarrel, he will be quick to change his mind.”  He sat thinking for a moment.  “We need something that will—bring us together.  Some sort of long-term objective, or point of concurrence.”

Magnus privately thought that if he had reason to fear such a betrayal, perhaps a long-term peace agreement was not sustainable.  “Megatron does have a history of violating such agreements, even in the short term,” he pointed out.  

“I am aware,” Optimus said, and rubbed a hand across his face.  He didn’t appear to be wiping anything away.  

They sat there silently for some time, Ultra Magnus trying to imagine a way to ensure the long-term success of a peace agreement that Megatron was surely already planning to violate.  “Perhaps a hostage exchange of some sort?” he eventually posited.  “I would be willing to volunteer.”  Not that Magnus wanted to live with Decepticons for any amount of time, and especially not as a hostage, but he was struggling to come up with any possible measure that would compel the Decepticons to respect so much as a temporary ceasefire.  Except perhaps preemptive imprisonment.     

“Absolutely not,” Optimus said, resolutely.  “No, we need something more…” he trailed off.  

“Something more?” Magnus asked, after an extended silence.  

Optimus’s optical illumination routines suddenly went bright.  “That’s it!” he said, and clapped Magnus on the shoulder.  “Thank you, old friend—I appreciate your help more than you know.” 

Ultra Magnus, bewildered, tried to ask for an explanation, but Optimus was already headed for the door.  The next day Magnus was presented with a new draft of the peace agreement for review, with the Ceremony of Reconciliation inserted as the very first condition.  

#

Ultra Magnus calls the first ceremony planning committee meeting to order after a brief roll call: Ultra Magnus is of course present, along with Jazz and Prowl, and Soundwave has appointed Rumble and Frenzy as the two additional Decepticon committee members. 

“The first challenge our committee faces is the base ceremonial design; we must incorporate both Autobot and Decepticon tradition,” Ultra Magnus begins.  “As you all are aware, no such ceremony has ever been undertaken before in recorded Cybertronian history; however, we have a wealth of other ceremonial traditions. I have completed a significant amount of research on this subject to jumpstart our planning process.”

He passes out datapads with his research summarized and fully cited for their review.  Magnus has even gone so far as to research organic fertility rituals, of which there are many.  It’s a stark contrast to Cybertronian history—to Magnus’s knowledge, they have never before engaged in ritual reproduction. 

“The next item on the agenda is a period for open discussion.  As indicated on the schedule I sent you, please be prepared to generate ideas during this time.”

“I got an idea,” Jazz says.  “How about we make Optimus and old Buckethead tell us what they want in the ceremony, since they’re the ones makin’ the sparklin’ for peace or whatever.”  

Ultra Magnus would have accepted their input had it been included in their peace agreement, but at this stage in the negotiations, it feels inappropriate.  “I believe their input on the ceremonial design would be a conflict of interest for that very reason, Jazz,” he says.  “How can they maintain an objective standard of design when they will be the primary participants?”

Soundwave nods agreement. 

“Agreed,” Prowl says.  “The ceremony must be objective.  However, I have another point of concern.  After reviewing the preliminary research you’ve provided, I’m currently seeing a strong reliance on Autobot and organic ceremonial tradition.”  

Magnus nods, accepting the criticism.  His research into historical Decepticon ceremonies has been somewhat unproductive so far. “I was hoping to discuss a research strategy for Decepticon ceremonial design during this meeting.”  

“We got Decepticons right here,” Jazz points out.  “Soundwave, what d’you think the ceremony would be like if it was a Decepticon interfacin’ party?”  

Soundwave opines that if the ceremony was completed in a fully Decepticon tradition, the participants would most likely partake in ritualistic combat, with the winner taking the honor of capturing and incubating the sparkling.  

“By ritualistic combat, do you mean that the participants would come together in a simulated or perhaps fully scripted battle, with the outcome predetermined?”  Magnus asks. 

“No way,” Rumble cuts in.  “We’re not some loser Autobots, none of us are afraid to fight!”  

“What would you imagine the ritualistic aspect to be, then?” Magnus questions.  

“I dunno,” Rumble says.  “Probably they’d just, you know, promise to always fight each other for real or whatever, or maybe trade weapons or something.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” Frenzy says.  “Or maybe whoever lost would have to cough up some tribute, you know, like a really cool blaster or a laser axe or some good holovids they were sittin’ on or half their ration or something.”  

Soundwave nods when Magnus turns to him for confirmation.  “Tribute, exchange of vows, consistent with Decepticon practice.”  

Ultra Magnus processes that.  Actual combat is of course out of the question—it would be inconsistent with both the peace agreement and Autobot legal principles—but perhaps some of the suggested elements could still be incorporated.  Additional research will certainly be required, but unfortunately for Magnus, Decepticon tradition has gone largely unrecorded.  Completing that research is currently a significant obstacle.   

“You should talk to Thundercracker,” Rumble says.  “He’s got lots of ideas.  He’s gonna write a holodrama.”  

That prompts Ultra Magnus’s imagination center into action.  “Perhaps we should hold a series of informational interviews with a selection of Decepticons, in order to ascertain the key elements which must be included in the ceremony,” Magnus suggests.  “Soundwave, would you be able to assist in identifying appropriate candidates?”    

Soundwave nods.  Approximately ten astrominutes later, the base computer pings Magnus to let him know a communication from Soundwave has been quarantined for his review.  

 

The first interview is with Swindle, who refuses to meet Magnus anywhere except the Decepticon mess, which is just as rowdy, unorganized, and poorly-lit as Magnus could have possibly imagined.  Magnus takes a seat at an open table, ignoring the Decepticons arranged around staring at him; for once the chairs are actually appropriately sized for his frame type, a pleasant surprise.  

“Please describe a meaningful Decepticon ceremony in which you have participated,” Magnus asks Swindle.   “Alternatively, if you have not participated in a meaningful ceremony, you may describe one that you have witnessed.”  

“Well,” Swindle says,  “I wasn’t exactly a participant, since really the only participant was Deathsaurus, but I was there when Deathsaurus was interred.”  

“Interment is an acceptable ceremonial practice,” Ultra Magnus says. “Please continue.”  

“We were still keeping the big guys back then, instead of just smelting everyone down like we do now,” Swindle starts morbidly.  “So after Hook was done pulling out all of Deathsaurus’s weapons systems and everything for reuse—found a great power magnifier in his elbow, the circuitry was barely even touched—we took him down to the catacombs and stood him up in front of Bludgeon and Thunderwing and all the others already down there.  And then Megatron got up and talked about everything Deathsaurus got done, you know, all the planets he cyberformed, all the Autobots he trashed—” Swindle pauses to glance at Magnus.  “Uh, I mean, defeated, and then we all, you know, got smashed and made toasts for fifty hours or so.  Deathsaurus’s crew got real rowdy, but there weren’t any casualties.”  

Magnus dutifully takes notes, glad to hear that the ceremony did not result in any additional casualties, although he’s uncertain as to the ceremonial relevance of the power magnifier. 

“We got the place looking real nice, too,” Swindle says.  “I supplied the glassilk—got some great quality stuff off Syphia Minor before the, uh, reactor incident—and I got us in on some quintuple filtered, so there was plenty to go around.  I can help source supplies for this ceremony, too, if you need someone to help you out,” Swindle adds, flaring his optics oddly in Magnus’s direction.  

After meeting with Swindle, Magnus makes his way down the list, with some interviews being notably more productive than others.  Thundercracker helpfully provides Magnus with a fully developed script of the ceremony, complete with stage directions.  

“I’m not certain how to incorporate ‘passionate longing’ into the ceremony,” Magnus says, looking at one of the aforementioned directions: MEGATRON and OPTIMUS approach each other with an aura of passionate longing.  Bells begin ringing faintly in the distance. “However, the use of bells to mark moments of ritual significance is a thoughtful ceremonial component.  I appreciate the level of detail you’ve provided.” 

“And there’s more where that came from,” Skywarp interjects, sticking his head into the room.  “He wrote a really good one where Screamer busts in and says, ‘What about our sparkling,’ and then him and Prime have a huge fight and Megatron is like, ‘There’s enough to go around,’ and then all these aliens start blasting through the ceiling—” 

“That’s private, Skywarp,” Thundercracker says, cutting him off.  Magnus’s environmental monitoring system notifies him of a sudden change in temperature where Thundercracker is sitting.  

“I would also be happy to review any other scripts you may have developed,” Magnus tells him.  “My research can only benefit from exposure to a variety of potential ceremonial elements.”  

I can give you some elements,” Skywarp says, coming in and pulling out a chair, although Magnus hasn’t invited him to interview.  “Any real Decepticon ceremony would definitely start with an alloygator in the build-up fights.  One of the acid-spitting ones.” 

“There aren’t going to be any build-up fights,” Thundercracker protests.  “This is a Ceremony of Reconciliation! They’re going to make a sparkling together, not try and rip each other's arms off.” 

“Why not both?” Skywarp questions, leaning forward aggressively.  “You don’t need arms to interface, not unless you're some kind of loser who can’t control your cables.”  

“Who are you calling a loser?” Thundercracker demands, standing up, and the interview immediately devolves into a physical altercation.  

Magnus takes that as his cue to wrap up the interview and return to his office to finish reviewing Thundercracker’s ceremonial script.  At first he tried interceding in the fights that generally concluded a successful Decepticon interview, but the Decepticons took that as an invitation to assault him as well, which Magnus could not risk responding to lest he violate the conditions of their peace agreement. When he brought this up with the ceremony planning committee, Soundwave advised against further attempted interventions, on the basis of increased collateral damage.  

Magnus transforms and starts the drive back to the Autobot base.  On his way out, he makes a note of the acid-spitting alloygator reference: Skywarp is not the first Decepticon to bring them up in a ceremonial context.  He will have to investigate their cultural significance.  

 

“I’ve received a number of requests from Autobots to participate in the interview process,” Optimus says, a few days later. 

“Autobot interviews are unnecessary,” Ultra Magnus points out.  “There is a wealth of recorded Autobot tradition and ceremony to build on, and I have been able to successfully complete my research without resorting to—investigations of personal opinion.” 

Optimus smiles at him. “Perhaps it’s best to break a little from tradition here. After all, we don’t want to risk including too many elements from the previous regime,” he says, placing a hand on Magnus’s arm.  “Why don’t you let some living Autobots share their ideas as well?”

Magnus dutifully schedules a number of Autobot interviews, with some assistance from Optimus to ensure he receives a variety of perspectives. 

“Yeah, man,” Beachcomber says, when Magnus asks him to participate. “You familiar with geode formation?” 

Magnus nods, and Beachcomber continues.  “Well, the way I see it, this is all like the production of a pyrolusite crystal in synthetic basalt…” 

Magnus’s interview with Beachcomber is, unfortunately, one of the more productive ones—he suggests the inclusion of several different crystals and gems with cultural significance into the ceremony, perhaps as decorations.  Most of the other interviews run off the rails right away, so much so that Magnus begins to suspect he is being used to receive official complaints rather than ceremonial feedback.  

“Why are we even having a Ceremony of Reconciliation?” Cliffjumper questions.  “We should be having a Ceremony of Destruction.  Optimus could just blast Megatron right in the face while he’s distracted.” 

“I’m volunteerin’ for that part of the ceremony,” Ironhide says, joining the interview uninvited.  “I’ve been sayin’ it for eight million years, that gasket breather is just tryin’ to get into Prime’s ports.”  He bangs a fist on the table. 

Magnus has no recollection of Ironhide ever saying any such thing.  “Interfactional violence is strictly forbidden under the terms of our peace agreement,” he says.  “Please describe the top three non-violent elements which you would consider a key component of any meaningful Autobot ceremony.” 

Unfortunately, violence remains a key ceremonial element in both Autobot and Decepticon interviews.  This element is fully excluded by the terms of their treaty, and Magnus struggles to identify any other consistent practices until his interview with Air Raid.  

“And I always thought it would be cool to see Prime wrestle something huge, like an alloygator.  Maybe one of the acid-spitting ones,” Air Raid says.  Magnus has to manually preempt his emotional subsystem to keep from groaning aloud and ruining the interview.  

Ultra Magnus reserves the final interview slot for Ratchet, as he has several pressing questions that require a qualified medical opinion.  Some elements of the ceremony are already prescribed: Megatron and Optimus, as the treaty signers and leaders of their respective factions, must be the key participants, and as per the peace agreement they must produce a sparkling.  Unfortunately, these elements raise any number of additional questions:  Should their protective rubber insulators be removed publicly during the ceremony, as a key element of the sparkling production, or in a private medical visit beforehand, as would be typical? Should the interface be witnessed directly, through a third party connection?  Should additional command staff be included in the rites?

Ratchet stops and stares at him when he asks; Magnus can hear his vocalizer clicking over, but he remains silent for nearly a full astrominute.  Magnus is about to suggest rescheduling this discussion when he finally speaks.  

“Absolutely not,” Ratchet finally says.  “It’s bad enough they’re planning to interface in front of the entire planet.  I draw the line at a group orgy.  If I have to watch you and Starscream going at it, I’m defecting and moving back to Earth.” 

Magnus’s internal operating temperature increases a full degree; he didn't mean to imply he intended to—liaise with Starscream.  Beyond his diplomatic duties regarding treaty development, that is.  

Ratchet puts his hands on his hips, then adds, “And they can come to the infirmary if they want their insulators removed.  I’m not doing it as part of whatever nonsense ritual you come up with.”  

“The ritual will be firmly founded in Decepticon and Autobot ceremonial practice,” Ultra Magnus reminds him.  “I will avoid including any nonsense.”  He looks briefly over his notes. “In your opinion, are there medical or other safety risks which might arise during the sparkling formation and capture process?  If so, what protective measures would you suggest?”  

“Well, we already know they’re compatible,” Ratchet says, with a slight strain to his voice.  “But there is always the possibility that extended interfacing and their combined power input could cause ungrounded power surges.  For the safety of the audience, the actual—” he lets out an odd noise, “interface should take place on some sort of non-conductive surface.  Perhaps a large rubber mat of some sort—that should be fairly easy to source from the humans.  I’ll get with Wheeljack and determine the necessary specifications.”  He rubs his face in his hands.  

“Thank you, Ratchet,” Magnus says.  “Perhaps you should consult with First Aid regarding your vocalizer,” he adds, concerned.  

Ratchet glares at him.  “Alright, get out of my infirmary,” he says, vocalizer oddly restored.  

Magnus nods and takes his leave. 

Unfortunately, Ratchet is still visibly discontent at the next treaty development meeting, constantly sniping back and forth with Starscream.  When Magnus opens the meeting up for comment, Ratchet is the first to interject.    

“I do have a problem with the peace agreement,” Ratchet says.  Magnus pulls up the appropriate feedback form, ready to take notes. 

“Go ahead,” Optimus tells him, smiling for some reason. Magnus looks over at him reproachfully; feedback on the peace agreement should be taken seriously, especially while the final treaty is still in development.  

“I’ve been fielding insulator removal requests left and right, and for what?  Because you two,” Ratchet points accusingly at Megatron and Optimus in turn, “came up with some crackpot plan to make personal sparkling formation into some sort of holodrama stunt, and now everyone and their cyber-uncle thinks they want to capture one.  Sparkling transfer is intensely dangerous!  It is not a medically recommended form of reproduction!  And yet thanks to you, I’m spending half my shifts performing reproductive counseling.”

Magnus dutifully inputs Ratchet’s complaints, but he is uncertain what resolution could possibly be provided; the Ceremony of Reconciliation, and the resultant sparkling, are key elements of the peace agreement and the integrated society that they are currently working towards. 

“And whichever one of you plans to capture the sparkling better speak up, because I need to start designing the transfer equipment, and the pathways will need to be compatible with your power system,” Ratchet adds.  “We don’t have Autobot or Decepticon spark transfer equipment right now, because no one has completed a spark transfer in millions of years.  Because it’s an unsafe reproductive practice. ”  Ratchet scowls.     

“I will capture the sparkling, of course,” Megatron says.  

“Hold on a moment,” Optimus says.  “Don’t you think this is something we should discuss together?” 

“What’s there to discuss?” Megatron asks.  

“Megatron,” Optimus starts, and Megatron sits all the way up from where he’d been slumped in his chair. 

“Excuse me,” Magnus says.  He knows from personal experience that this will go on for at least an hour if he doesn’t interrupt. 

“Optimus,” Megatron snarls.  Beside him, Starscream throws his head back against his chair and groans dramatically.  

“Excuse me!” Magnus repeats, and calls the meeting back to order.  “During the open comment period, please restrict comments to those relevant to the treaty development process.  The question of sparkling capture is a purely ceremonial element, not a question of treaty development.” 

Despite the inappropriate timing, Magnus does appreciate that Ratchet brought this concern to his attention.  He adds the topic as a key agenda item for the next ceremony planning committee meeting.   

“Uh, obviously Megatron’s gonna capture it,” Frenzy says, when Magnus introduces the question.  Rumble nods emphatically beside him.  

“Obviously?” Prowl questions.  

“What’s so obvious about it, huh?” Jazz asks.  

“Megatron: greatest power output,” Soundwave says.  “Therefore, Megatron: ideal primary progenitor.” 

“Yeah!” Rumble says. “That’s why in holodramas they always fight first, to decide who’s the strongest.”  

“There will be no fighting during the Ceremony of Reconciliation,” Magnus interjects. 

“Well, I think a little bit of fightin’ isn’t a bad idea,” Jazz says.  “Maybe we let them duke it out on stage to decide who gets to keep the sparklin’.  First come first serve and all that.”  

Surprisingly, Prowl nods.  ““The sparkling itself may have a particular preference for a primary progenitor, regardless of power output,” he points out.  “It seems inappropriate to attempt to supersede the natural formation and capture process.”  

Magnus accesses the base medical archives, and after refining his search string several times, he’s able to find independent verification of sparkling preference deep in tertiary storage of pre-war medical files.  Progenitors have the ability to override, of course, but he trusts that Megatron and Optimus will respect the preferences of their offspring.   

“Very well,” he concedes.  “Based on the available literature, and in the interest of reducing potential conflict, it seems sparkling capture would be best determined by the sparkling at time of formation.  Are there any objections?”   

No one raises a hand to object, although Frenzy sticks his tongue out rudely at Jazz.  

Ultra Magnus nods.  “In that case, I will notify Megatron and Optimus of our decision.  Now, we must address the matter of decorations,” Magnus says, moving to the next item on the agenda.

“If we’re gonna have it in some cushy Autobot palace then I think we should be in charge of the decorations,” Rumble says.

“You guys did already do some redecoratin’ when you blew the roof off and busted the place to scrap,” Jazz points out reasonably.  

“It will be a joint undertaking,” Magnus says.  “However, I do agree that added decorations must be chosen to represent the Decepticons, since we have selected an Autobot-designed venue.” The Primal Basilica of the Heavenly Thirteen is certainly an Autobot ceremonial location, although it is also true that the Decepticons targeted the site for significant symbolic destruction over the course of the war.  “Who will volunteer to be the lead on this project?”    

“We will!” Frenzy says, immediately. “We’ll do it.  We’re great at decorating.  Ask anyone.”  Beside him, Rumble nods enthusiastically.  

Ultra Magnus waits a moment, but there are no other volunteers—namely, Soundwave does not put himself forward as a candidate—so he assigns Rumble and Frenzy as the project managers. “We also need to discuss one last agenda item,” he says.  “The acid-spitting alloygator is, unfortunately, the only thematic element that has been consistently proposed in both Autobot and Decepticon interviews.  Therefore it will have to be incorporated as a key element of the ceremony.  I have set aside the last twenty minutes of the meeting to discuss how we will accomplish this.”   

“We gotta catch one, first!” Rumble exclaims.  “Let’s make Screamer do it, it’ll be hilarious.”  

Across the table, Jazz starts laughing uproariously, back to his usual disruptive habits.  

“Yeah, definitely!” Frenzy says.  “Make Screamer do it for sure!  Only don’t tell him it was our idea, let’s blame it on someone else.”

Rumble nods enthusiastically.   

“It will be a replica,” Magnus says, firmly.  “Alloygators are an endangered species.”  

“Aww, come on, Mags,” Jazz says, laughing so hard now that he can no longer remain upright, and is sliding out of his chair.  “All our species are endangered.  Don’t you want an,” he snorts, “authentic ceremony?”  

“Unpredictable acid attacks are not a desirable ceremonial element,” Ultra Magnus says.  “And please practice decorum appropriate for an Autobot officer,” he requests, without much hope. 

After some discussion, they determine that the acid-spitting alloygator will be incorporated into the main ceremony; namely, Magnus will be required to stand on the replica to officiate.  His imagination center attempts to generate an image for review, but stalls out after several unproductive astrominutes and two cancellation requests from his logic unit.     

#

As the chair of the ceremonial planning committee, and the Autobots’ executive officer, Magnus must greet foreign dignitaries as they arrive for the Ceremony of Reconciliation.  However, because the Cybertronian Civil War extended over eight million years of combat and a full quadrant of the galaxy, often involving and sometimes even targeting alien worlds, the anticipated diplomatic presence at the ceremony is mostly limited to the delegation from Earth.  

“Long time no see,” Spike says, holding a small hand out for Bumblebee to tap as he gets unloaded from his transport.  “I can’t believe you guys are really gonna live with Decepticons.  Megatron really hasn’t tried anything this whole time?” 

“Not yet,” Ratchet says darkly, helping Carly out behind him.    

“Our peace agreement stands firm,” Ultra Magnus explains, although he had similar doubts when the agreement was signed.  “Following the Ceremony of Reconciliation, we will sign and independently ratify a formal treaty governing our integrated society.”  

“Yeah, about that,” Spike says.  “What exactly is a Ceremony of Reconciliation?”     

“The ceremony has been designed to reflect both Autobot and Decepticon tradition,” Ultra Magnus says.  “Optimus Prime and Megatron will come together in a formal ceremony and demonstrate their personal reconciliation in a public merge, which will also serve as a symbol of Autobot and Decepticon integration.”  

“Wait a minute,” Carly interjects.  “Are you trying to tell me that Optimus Prime and Megatron are getting married?”  

Magnus runs a quick search for “married” through the base computer’s archives.  

“No,” he assures her, after waiting the requested human minute.  “The ceremony will not result in a fiduciary duty, or establish legal rights to each other’s persons or property.  Megatron and Optimus have only agreed to publicly produce a sparkling.”  

Spike and Carly both stop walking for an unexplained reason. Ultra Magnus initiates a brief environmental scan, checking for human-scale obstacles, but it comes up clean.  

“Do you mean…” Spike finally says, “that they’re going to design a new Cybertronian together?” 

“Qualified engineers will handle the frame design,” Magnus explains.  

“He means they’re going to interface in front of Primus and everyone,” Ratchet says crudely.  “You’d think they just came off the line a hundred thousand years ago, the way they’re acting.  Public sparkling production!  Never seen anything like it in ten million years,” he grumbles.  

After escorting Spike, Carly, and a few other uniformed humans to wait in a small portion of the base that Wheeljack retrofitted to simulate Earth’s atmosphere and gravity conditions, Magnus heads for the Basilica to complete his preparations for the ceremony.    

As requested, Rumble and Frenzy have completed the decorations, and the Basilica looks appropriately stately.  To represent the Decepticons, they have chosen to adorn the walls with elaborate battle illustrations—somewhat inexpertly painted, but adequate—and an assortment of antique weaponry.  Some of which, upon review, appears to have been scavenged from the Sacramental tombs; Magnus will have to ensure its return.  As he steps further inside he sees that Beachcomber has come through as well, and the hall is dotted with stately arrangements of enormous jagged crystals, with small delicate chains of platinum and precious gemstones hanging gently down from what remains of the ceiling.  

The dais where Optimus and Megatron will exchange vows and participate in the ceremonial rites has been properly outfitted with twenty-eight centimeter thick rubber matting, and Swindle’s non-conductive glassilk drapes heavily around the altar in silver and gold.  Elevated behind the dais is Sunstreaker and the Constructicons’ meticulously crafted and structurally reinforced alloygator replica, perfectly realistic except for the expanded size.  They have even, Magnus notes with some satisfaction, managed to incorporate the illusion of acid-spitting by relocating the slagged remains of another statue to stand in its line of fire.  

The overall atmosphere is perfectly ceremonial, complete with Cybertron’s twin moons shining overhead, perfectly visible through the jagged edges of the Basilica’s ceiling.  Magnus nods to himself, thoroughly satisfied, and marks “ceremonial decor” as completed  on his pre-ceremony checklist.  

He attends to the rest of the checklist, ensuring that the low-powered magnets serving as blocking markers have been properly recessed into the floor, that the atmospheric generator for the humans has been set up on one side of the colonnades, even that the venue has been properly outfitted with energon, oil, and coolant dispensers for Jazz’s post-ceremony reception.  Everything on the list accounted for, Ultra Magnus is able to plug in for a brief recharge cycle satisfied that the ceremony will proceed smoothly the next day.  

 

Ultra Magnus is summoned to the pre-ceremonial medical checkup by a frantic emergency communication from First Aid.  He arrives at the infirmary forty-seven astroseconds later to find Ratchet yelling furiously at Megatron, who is rubbing out a dent on his left shoulder, optics glowing a deep red. 

“Who the hell gets a power magnifier installed right before sparkling formation?” Ratchet demands.  “Are your logical evaluation routines corrupt?” 

Behind him, Optimus winces and takes a step back.  Ratchet immediately whirls on him.  “What are you wincing for?” He plugs right into Optimus’s systems without so much as a single sanitizing unit between them and immediately smacks Optimus in the chest hard enough to leave a dent.  “What were you thinking!” he cries.    

Magnus hurries over to separate them.  “Ratchet, please refrain from fighting prior to the ceremony,” he says.  “We have only allotted twenty more astrominutes to this procedure on the schedule.”  

“Well, you’re going to have to allot more,” Ratchet snaps.  “I need to get these power magnifiers out before these two morons blow themselves up on stage.  And when I find out who installed this in Optimus—” 

First Aid squeaks and drops the scanning equipment he’d been holding with a clang. 

“Aid?” Ratchet questions, unplugging from Optimus, and First Aid runs straight out of the room.  

“Don’t be so dramatic, Ratchet,” Hook says from beside Megatron.  “Power magnifiers aren’t going to destroy anyone, they’ll just amplify base reactor output.  At worst the sparkling will be moderately overpowered and require an external power supply to complete the incubation period.”  

“At worst the sparkling will have the power requirements of Omega Supreme and the backlash of the unmet power demand will trigger a critical excursion in both of their reactors!” Ratchet argues.  

“Not if the neutron multiplication is appropriately controlled,” Hook says, waving him off. “When’s the last time temporary power magnification caused a criticality?”  

“When’s the last time temporary power magnification was used for sparkling formation?” Ratchet demands.  

“We cannot allot additional time to pre-ceremonial medical procedures,” Ultra Magnus interjects.  “Ratchet, please determine a medically advisable course of action which can be completed in the next seventeen astrominutes.”  

“Ugh!” Ratchet throws his hands up.  “If the two of you destroy yourselves with this nonsense I’m not attending your interments,” he snaps. “Optimus, open up, let me see that power routing.  And you’re next,” he adds, pointing at Megatron.  

After a few minutes of supervision to ensure that things are moving along without additional delay, Ultra Magnus assigns Prowl to ensure that Megatron and Optimus join the ceremony on time.

“It’s under control,” Prowl says darkly, when Magnus hesitates to leave.  “They’ll be on time if I have to drag them there myself.”  

“You may be required to do so,” Magnus warns, but Prowl only nods.  

The base computer reminds Ultra Magnus that he is required to begin proceedings in two astrominutes, and he leaves with one last look to confirm that Ratchet has moved on to Megatron and is completing his self-assigned power core inspection in a timely manner.  

Magnus enters the Basilica from the processionary door, somewhat sacrilegiously as he has never been a member of the Primal clergy.  After a brief overview to ensure everyone has taken their places, he steps up on the dais and makes his way onto the enormous alloygator replica. Thankfully, the structural reinforcement holds firm, and the replica does not buckle under his weight.  

Soundwave steps behind the alloygator and gets plugged into the sound system.  When Magnus speaks, his voice is amplified.    

“Hear me, all those who are gathered here today,” Magnus says, starting the ceremony.  “We come together, Autobots, Decepticons, and honored guests, to witness a historic undertaking: the symbolic conjoining of the Decepticon and Autobot forces and the penultimate moment of the formation of a lasting peace.  During this ceremony, please note that acts of violence, external weaponry, and all forms of disruptive behavior are strictly forbidden.” 

“Who shoved an electroprod up his aft?” Skywarp mutters, but silences when Soundwave slowly raises his head to stare at him.  

“Please prepare yourselves for the entrance of our honored leaders: Optimus Prime, Autobot Commander in Chief, and Megatron, Deception Supreme Commander.”  

Soundwave shuts down the primary lighting system, leaving only the soft cold glow of phosphorescent crystals and the stars visible through the partially deconstructed ceiling to illuminate the sanctuary.  Magnus adjusts his optical settings for low-light conditions.  

The humans stand up in their portable atmosphere generator, and everyone else starts jockeying for position, searching for optimal viewing locations.  Magnus notes Rumble and Frenzy climbing on top of Astrotrain to see, and several of the smaller Autobots already sitting on Skyfire’s shoulders.  

The Basilica doors come suddenly crashing open, and one of the doors smashes into several pieces against the wall.  In the entryway, Megatron lowers his foot, and Optimus comes to stand beside him and grab his hand.  Magnus frowns; kicking the doors open was not included in the ceremonial choreography.  

“Megatron,” Optimus hisses, clearly audible over the sudden silence of the audience, and Magnus suppresses an exhaust request from his emotional subsystem.  

“Megatron, Optimus Prime, please come forth,” Ultra Magnus says, attempting to guide them back on script.  

The two of them walk slowly through the crowd, ducking carefully through a series of decorative crystal arches that the ceremony planning committee selected as a speed-reduction measure, and take their places on the dais.  

“This Ceremony of Reconciliation symbolizes the conjoining of our forces, Autobot and Decepticon, into an integrated future as Cybertronians,” Ultra Magnus begins.  “In this moment, we come together to affirm our commitment to peace, integration, and a successful treaty formalization process.  The sparkling formed by the union of the Autobot Commander in Chief and the Decepticon Supreme Commander will complete incubation as the first Cybertronian citizen of our new world.”

Magnus turns to Megatron.  “Megatron, by virtue of your position as the Supreme Commander of the Decepticons, you are vested with the power to enter into contracts, agreements, and treaties on behalf of all Decepticons.  By partaking in this Ceremony of Reconciliation, you swear all your people to the terms of the finalized treaty, and agree to cherish, honor, and protect all Cybertronian citizens, including the sparkling you produce today.  Do you so swear?” 

“I do,” Megatron says.  He looks over at Optimus, whose mask slides suddenly open.  

Magnus repeats the vow for Optimus.  

“I do,” Optimus says, and Magnus sees his hand squeezing Megatron’s.

“And are you prepared, according to the terms of our peace agreement, to come together as one and jointly produce a sparkling, who will be treated firstly and lastly as a Cybertronian,  without regard to faction, frame type, or progenitors?” Magnus asks.  

“I am,” both of them swear.  

“You may complete the ceremonial weapons exchange at this time,” Magnus tells them.    

Optimus unstraps his external blaster, and Megatron unhooks his cannon from his arm.  They both reach out to take each other’s weapons and lay them down beside the dais, off of the insulated rubber mat.  

“This Ceremony of Reconciliation represents an end to all our hostilities, as per our peace agreement,” Magnus says, once they’ve returned to their places.  “You may now produce the sparkling.”  

Megatron reaches out and cups Optimus’s jaw in his hand, a departure from the ceremonial script.  Magnus’s motor systems slide into standby mode as he evaluates whether or not he will need to intervene.  

“Optimus,” Megatron says lowly.  “Open up for me.”  He leans in to take Optimus’s mouth, and Ultra Magnus watches as Optimus’s ports come sliding open all in a row down his side.  

“Mmm,” Optimus says.  “You as well, Megatron,” and he runs a hand down Megatron’s thigh, the ports there all opening up under his touch.  

“Yeah, get it!” someone from the crowd jeers, and Magnus activates the environmental silencer, instantly grateful for Soundwave’s suggestion to have one installed.  

Optimus and Megatron plug in together, and Megatron grunts as the power exchange starts, surrounding both of their bodies with a low blue glow. Sparks come bouncing off of their exposed cables and onto the insulating mat below, and Optimus drags Megatron into another kiss, gripping his neck fiercely.  

After several astrominutes of back and forth, Megatron staggers, and the two of them go crashing down onto the mat, but they don’t end the interface.  Instead they shower the mat with sparks, the blue glow of their reactors growing brighter and brighter, and suddenly the unmistakable, incandescent flare of light that accompanies sparkling formation overcomes both of them, and they fall apart with a clang.  

Everyone bursts into cheers, several of the Decepticons and a few Autobots shooting energy weapons into the empty remnants of the ceiling despite the external weapons ban, and Magnus realizes belatedly that he has leaned forward too far and removed his foot from the silencer.  He steps back to reactivate it, and waits for the crowd to calm down.  In the meantime he takes careful note of all Autobots in visible possession of external weapons.  

“Megatron, Supreme Commander of the Decepticons,” Ultra Magnus addresses him.  “Please rise and announce your progenitary status.”  

“I am Megatron, primary progenitor!” he roars, recessing his chest armour to reveal the tiny sparkling attached to his reactor.  The Decepticons immediately lose all sense of decorum, and several pieces of remaining ceiling are blasted into dust in the ensuing chaos.  Magnus reactivates the silencer.  

“Optimus Prime, Commander in Chief of the Autobots, please rise and announce your progenitary status.”  

“I am also a primary progenitor,” Optimus announces calmly, and briefly opens his own chest plating to reveal a second sparkling next to his reactor, a tiny glowing burst of light.  

This time the Autobots join in to disrupt the ceremony, and even the silencer can’t contain them all.  

“Silence!” Ultra Magnus commands, a brief deviation from the ceremonial script.  In the front row, Ratchet and First Aid are clutching each other tightly, lubricant flowing freely from their optics.  Beside them, Ironhide kisses his blaster.  Magnus notates a reprimand for him in the personnel management system for smuggling in a weapon, and then quickly adjusts the ceremonial blessing to accommodate two sparklings.  

“The Ceremony of Reconciliation is now completed.  As Optimus Prime and Megatron have come together, so have the Autobots and Decepticons; let us now be intertwined in a single Cybertronian future, symbolized in the creation of these two new sparklings, who will enter a world without faction.” 

Megatron and Optimus clasp their hands together and raise their arms up. Magnus deactivates the silencer, closing the ceremony, and every Cybertronian from both factions instantly comes crashing forward in a furious wave of clanking armour.  

Optimus is overwhelmed and nearly toppled over in the enormous rush, everyone stretching to hug him, to grab his hands, to touch his armour, and he laughs brightly underneath the crowd.   Beside him, the Decepticons are all surrounding Megatron, leaning curiously in and asking for another glimpse of the sparkling as Hook plugs in for a scan.  

“It must have been the power magnification,” Hook mutters.  “Your combined power output must have hit critical mass and split the initial sparkling production into separate processes.  Fantastic!”  

Ultra Magnus steps down from the alloygator replica, and Soundwave stands up beside him to watch the crowd.  

“Ceremony successful,” Soundwave says. “Congratulations.”  

“Thank you,” Magnus says, touched.  “Please know that I greatly appreciate your contributions to the ceremony.”  

Rumble and Frenzy come running over, whooping loudly, and start fighting each other to climb the alloygator replica.  Jazz comes sidling up behind them and knocks them both off before climbing up himself.  

“Quintuple-filtered coming in hot!” he yells, plugging into the sound system.  He points at the bar set up in the back of the Basilica, where Powerglide is already starting to fill glasses with neon green enhanced energon.  “Come on, let’s get this party started!”  

Cheering and whooping starts up yet again, and Soundwave nods and plugs back into the sound system himself.  Music instantly starts pulsing out from the speakers, and Jazz brings the lights down low as everyone rushes for the bar.  

Magnus sits down to document the requisite personnel actions, intending to leave the afterparty under Prowl’s supervision after his datawork is complete, but he’s only an hour or so into filing commendations and reprimands when the distinctive sound of first-generation blaster discharge triggers his environmental monitoring system.  Magnus finds a crowd of Decepticons and an enormously drunk Ironhide hosting an arms contest with Rumble and Frenzy’s pilfered decorations.  At least, he thinks grimly, the gaping ruin of the ceiling can't be any more thoroughly destroyed.  

Magnus confiscates the weaponry and starts another reprimand in the personnel management system—Ironhide’s discipline record is not looking well.  “Perhaps I should remain to supervise,” he sighs.   

Jazz sidles up next to him, holding an enormous cube sloshing over with multicolored energon.  “Need a drink?” he asks.   

Ultra Magnus starts to decline, but a sudden burst of cheering and clanging sounds from across the room, and he glances over to see Megatron go crashing over with Optimus and Starscream both plugged into his wide open ports, which are practically glittering with charge.   Magnus’s half-written report immediately drops out of active memory, never to be recovered.  

Blindly, Magnus reaches a hand out for the cube, and gulps it all down in one long pull.  “Is there more where that came from?” he asks, grimly.  

“Is there ever,” Jazz says, and pats Magnus on the arm.  “You just leave it to me, big guy.”  

Magnus is not generally inclined to “leave it” to Jazz, but on this occasion, it feels appropriate to make an exception.

#

Magnus wakes some thirteen hours later on the floor of the Basilica with a pounding headache and the extremely unpleasant sensation of scorched internal circuitry.  He resolves to stay on the floor until his energy distribution center is recovered, but his systems immediately release a series of painful reminders regarding the treaty signing, and he is instead forced to devote a not-insignificant amount of time to coaxing his motivator into allowing movement. Eventually, though, he manages to drag himself to the infirmary for hangover relief.  

“You!” Ratchet cries, entirely too loudly.  Magnus quickly lowers his input volume.   

“You better get this Primus-damned treaty in order,” Ratchet says, muffled.  He’s waving a wrench around wildly.  “We do not have enough materials for all this construction.  There’s at least fifteen extra sparklings in here!”  

“What?” Magnus asks, and Ratchet’s face screws up.  

“Look!” Ratchet shouts, and waves a wrench at the assortment of Autobots and Decepticons lying around the infirmary in varying states of consciousness.  Magnus notices Thundercracker and Skywarp curled up on the floor, and then, up on the exam table next to them, Starscream, one of the treaty's signatory parties, lying unconscious with a cable hanging loose.  The tip of it is just slightly flared, as it if is ready to release charge at any moment.   

Ultra Magnus cancels visual input immediately.  

“And spark transfer is not a medically advisable form of reproduction!”  Ratchet continues.  “This is a room full of medical emergencies. If that treaty you’re about to sign doesn’t ban reproduction for the next century, I’m out! I’m moving back to Earth and you can deal with Starscream’s offspring yourself!” 

Magnus’s external threat evaluation subsystem alerts him of an incoming projectile, but without visual input, his systems are too sluggish to respond in time.  The wrench hits him smack in the side of the head, leaving an enormously painful dent in his helmet.

“Aughh,” Magnus manages.  He sits down, hard.  

“Sorry,” Ratchet says, after a moment.    

Magnus re-enables optical input, but Starscream is still there.  Beside him, Skywarp sits up with a groan, and Starscream’s cable smacks him in the face.  

“Ugh,” Skywarp says.

“Are Cybertronian parties always like this?” Carly asks, from the far side of the infirmary. 

“Pretty much,” Skywarp tells her. “Decepticon parties are, at least.”

Magnus buries his face in his hands. His systems, desperately trying to integrate the terrible and extremely unwanted knowledge of Starscream’s interfacing equipment, finally manage to produce a single positive conclusion: their treaty certainly has a long-term point of concurrence now.    

Notes:

Art by the fantastic mostly-him. Find Mos’s art on tumblr and on twitter!

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!! Let me know what you thought <3

Series this work belongs to: