::...Well I meant that they would not have picked me, given what I am. Or was, I suppose, but...:: he starts over a sudden, encrypted line, wise enough to keep the conversation private when he's motioning subtly toward the senators he's talking about.

Face clouding with thought, that background hum from the Matrix picks up briefly and Optimus' optics dim as he actually checks on that very idea. He hadn't considered that before, the previous Prime's memories were all there and some had been corrupt, but surely even a Prime could fall...?

Oh, they could. Nova and Sentinel both fell, and the depths are chilling. But Zeta's memories were only there as a warning, not as a Prime.

He'd be the council's choice, and someone like Orion Pax would never have had a chance if fate hadn't intervened.

There is a quiet creak of metal, and the little tray of cake in the current Prime's hand is suddenly sporting curled edges.