Title: Finding Her Right Hand
Author: merfilly
Feedback address: merfilly@gmail.com
Date in Calendar: 16 June 2011
Fandom: Transformers
Pairing: Elita One/Chromia
Rating: PG-13 (War-violence)
Summary: The beginnings of Chromia's and Elita One's relationship
Spoilers: None
Warnings: References to canon het pairings, polyamory as societal norm.
Archive: On Site
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC:DD11

Disclaimer: The characters and setting belong to Hasbro and their affiliates/licensees. No money is being made, and no legal claim placed.

Author's Notes: Makes use of the concept that Orion Pax and Ariel had created a new life between them. Implied that Ironhide is actually Dion.

Beta: Ilyena_sylph, my ever so-patient editor who endures having an addict for writing in her life

Elita One maneuvered carefully into Praxus, knowing the Decepticons were everywhere. The city had been suffering near-constant attacks lately, and Megatron himself was supposedly on scene to see to its fall.

She tried not to shudder at the thought of that violent, powerful mech. Sometimes, her past life as Ariel was too strongly at the forefront of her processor, and the fear of those awful last moments threatened to keep her from being who she needed to be now as Elita One.

When the battle struck, with her still inside the city, she pushed all the fear aside, and beamed a tight transmission on the Praxian security bands, aware the 'Cons had likely hacked it, but not willing to give up.


Elita had finished helping interview the refugees from Praxus, and was looking back over her notes. Prime would be pleased to have a logistics mech as capable as Prowl at his side, and that would make an excellent counter-balance to the recent acquisition of Jazz. One was grounded solidly (some would say too much so), while the other was more than a little unorthodox.

Many of the ones saved had been truly civilian and had expressed no interest in aiding the war on either side. Elita One had tried, so hard, to stress to those beings that the war would come and leave no room for indecision, using the case of Iacon's near fall at the hands of Megatron and the lives that had been crushed for the fact no one in Iacon wanted to believe in the war.

She had persuaded some to turn their talents to support of the Autobot cause, in noncombatant roles, but by and large they remained certain that the war was merely a brief intrusion in their lives.

"Never seen so many sheepacrons," came a gruff voice, causing Elita to look up from her data pad. "It's not like we didn't just barely escape being enslaved or worse at Praxus," the blue femme from that city said as she walked back in.

Elita One recalled that her designation was Chromia, that she was a junior officer from the security forces, and she had been one of the ones who had shepherded a vast number of civilians to safety on the strength of Elita's beacon cry.

"You indicated that you were interested in helping the Autobot resistance?" Elita One queried, studying the other femme. There was a solidity to her that was reassuring, and Chromia already had in-built weapon systems.


"You reported to Ironhide?" Elita continued.

"I did." Chromia's optics glinted with amusement. "Very interesting mech."

Elita tipped her helm to one side at that trace of amusement. "And he...?"

"Has decided that I am suitable to a task high on the Prime's list." Chromia presented her data pad to the other femme, who took it, keyed her access code when prompted, and read the orders.

Attention, Elita One,

The femme designated Chromia has been assigned to assist you in your recruitment forays. Specialty: guardian protocols. Secondary specialty: counter-insurgency.

Cordially, Optimus Prime.

Elita One processed the orders, and promised herself that her esteemed mate was going to get an audial full of just what she thought of him assigning her a guardian for her trips out of Iacon City. She was quite capable, as refined into the war machine she now was as he was.

A small part of her was touched that he had found the time, in light of his staggering rise to the top of the Army, to pay attention to that personal a detail, though. They so rarely had time to interact as Megatron increased his bold, hungry advances across their planet.

She looked at Chromia, applying her unique insights into the situation. "Are you at ease with these orders, Chromia? My recent tasks for the army have been infiltrating the city-states likely next on the Decepticon aggression list," she warned.

"I can think of nowhere I would rather be," Chromia reassured her. "They destroyed my home. They took my purpose in life, and it is now recast into a new one."

Elita One let her frown show. "Chromia, I have no time for those seeking personal revenge. My duties require enough finesse to make it seem as if I am a ghost-trace on their sensors."

Chromia nodded curtly. "Ironhide described the duties entailed, and I find your course to be the wisest at this point, given our cause's lack of true weapons, and the nature of our infrastructure being built on resistance cells."

The pale-rose femme considered the feel of those words, and her general intuition before approving the assignment over the internal Autobot network. Surely she was only imaging the sense of relief that came from her fellow officers. Because neither Prime nor 'Hide would be that blatant about their wishes. Surely.

"Welcome to the Autobot cause, and it is a pleasure to accept you into my duties," Elita told Chromia.

"I believe, Elita One, the pleasure is mine."


Elita dodged the strike from the drone, then felt the impact as one of the flying types impacted and tried to latch onto her shoulder armor. She threw herself backward, hard, into the wall of the tunnel, crushing it before it could inject the rust-serum it would have corroded her inner workings with.

Before the drone could attack again, Chromia's blaster came into play, as the other femme caught up to her. It had been so many cycles, with Elita One evolving as a coleader of the Autobots, one who specialized in small, tightly planned infiltrations. Always with her, no matter who else she opted to bring, was Chromia. They had saved each other's frames more times than it was feasible to count, and the only time they separated for long was if either femme partnered their mech counterpart for a mission.

"We have to fall back," Chromia managed to say, her internal communications offline due to the blast she had taken earlier in the fight to escape this small city-state.

"I know." Elita's grief over their failure to provide liberation poured out in those words.

Chromia buckled down, fighting the need to reassure her, to find a way in, despite the odds, and made herself get her commander out of the deathtrap they'd walked into.


Chromia dropped into her berth, trying not to dwell on how shattered Elita One had looked on hearing that the last of the bastions known for sheltering young Cybertronians had fallen. Ironhide had looked nearly devastated by it, and refused Chromia's company, going off with Prime who was fighting for control against something darker than Chromia had ever seen in him.

She had to sit up again, as her door chimed at her. "Enter." Maybe Ironhide had come back after all.

The door slid aside, and Elita One entered, looking smaller, frailer, than Chromia had ever seen her appear. Chromia slid off the berth and went to her side, puzzled, and then utterly at a loss when Elita One turned in her arms and held on hard.

"I can't be with Prime...he's hurting enough right now, and he'd swallow it down, trying to comfort me. Ironhide's fighting his own down for Prime..." Elita said softly, trying to explain her presence. "You..."

"I'm here. I know the loss of the young is a blow to us all, but..."

"But you did not know that was the last place we knew our own creation to be," Elita One told her, before the grief reduced her voice to static, and her frame shook hard.

Chromia understood in a flash, even if it was a shock to know Prime and Elita One had created, had not kept that creation close to protect it. Those things she did not understand, but the ache and pain in her friend, her commander, those things she could fathom.

Chromia drew Elita One onto the berth, holding her there, running digits along the pale rose armor, and just promising herself that Megatron's forces had chalked one more personal insult on the board for her to take retribution over.

It seemed like it took most of that down cycle to calm Elita One, but Chromia would never complain. If there was one Autobot the former security officer loved as much as the irascible Ironhide, it was Elita One.

And now, she knew Elita One trusted her with more than just her safety. Perhaps it was only the guardian protocol kicking in, but when Elita One pressed a soft kiss on her lips in gratitude for the comfort, Chromia was pretty certain this was the turning point in what they would be from here on in.