Hey all. I would have posted this sooner, but my old laptop broke down, and it took a while to transfer all of its files to my new computer. On top of that, I still had a little bit of proofreading/editing to do to this after I retrieved the file. (you'll be able to tell, too by paying close attention to one of the allusions I have in here) I'm probably ganna branch the story I'm working on off this fan-fic but I'm probably just ganna post it under a different title. Either way, enjoy. and read and review, plz! -w-
Time Measurements:
Groon= Hour
Astrosecond= .273 seconds
Orbital Cycle= 1 Earth Day
A former scientist mulled over his hypotheses and calculations as grey claws deftly drifted over the control panel keypad. He currently had four protoforms, all of which having their lives instantiated in four different ways. In addition, all of which had their own key traits. One of them was created by means of letting a reaction between a small sample of a potent power inducer and the protoform's spark and letting that reaction trigger a chain reaction that would hopefully induce the protoform's body the way the scienctist needed it to. It took a while, but the scientist finally found it. Though the sample was considerably small, it was just enough Dark Energeon to provide the chain reaction he needed to give the clone an extra dose of physical strength. After all, even for one who prefered strategic tactics over brute force, it didn't hurt to have a little extra muscle around. Another was just going to undergo the usual physical development process a protoform would if it were the offspring of a non-carrying Cybertronian. However, the mental development would work more as a databank of any vital information the scientist wished to store in that clone's central processor (for now, however, should the instantiation process fail, the scientist decided to import files of common—common, but practical—battle strategies). The third one was given energeon as well as acid transfusions. This clone's schematics was designed with a special compartment within its circuitry that stored a toxic acid that could even melt through the most thorough Cybertronian armor, which could be expelled through an opening near the clone's thrusters. The compartment used to contain the acid was dangerously close to the protoform's spark chamber, but the scientist was sure he had put enough anti-acidic coating inside the acid chamber in order to insure the survival of the clone's protoform). The fourth and final one was created by means similar as to how non-carrying Cybertronians created their sparklings. This one, the former scientist noted, took so much work that if the process itself hadn't been so exhausting, the scientist was sure that he just might have had to murder someone if this one didn't come online. Giving the protoform a sample of the scientist's DNA was easy enough, but having to pick and choose between all of those different genetic traits and having to decode and recode each and every one of them? Not to mention adding in completely new traits that hadn't derived from his DNA sample. After getting sick of the tedious task of decoding all of the select genetic traits he had wanted for this particular clone, the scientist just decided that he would leave it up to the protoform's built in genetic trait randomizer and hope for the best of traits to surface, once online. In addition to that, he had to put together the clone's central processor programming…from scratch! It didn't help that he wanted this clone's central processor to include a unique set of traits and skills. (Of these traits and skills were undying loyalty—to him and only him; thus making his knack of treacherous deeds surfacing within the clone's personality impossible—, the inability to lie or break an oath, and stealth.) Even with his advanced level of scientific skill the scientist didn't think he'd ever finish without first popping one of his main energeon lines in frustration. But, alas, he finally finished. It was going to take a sufficient amount of energeon to finish the job, but he finished the core programming.
Taking one last glance at his not-yet-online protoforms, the scientist flicked off various switches, keyed in various instance codes, etc. He watched all the protoform's basic shells morph and liquidate into various different forms and shapes. His first clone, he noticed had increased in height tremendously. Its form even appeared as if it were at least half a meter taller than the scientist's height. The shape of the clone, itself, so far, appeared especially similar to his own frame, with the exception of the clone's form developing far more profound curves in its form than his own. Brawny and aerodynamic? The scientist mused, This must be my lucky day. It's so hard to find a good combination of the two, these orbital cycles. His second clone, increasing even further in height, appeared as if its body was going to turn out to look some-what square-ishly built. This was quite strange, seeing as that clone's alt form was supposed to be that of a not-so-square-and-very-curvy Earth space shuttle. The third clone had, again, increased drastically in size, compared to the protoform's original size. However, the third clone's height did not increase nearly as much as the first two, but it still wasn't terribly small either. It seemed to increase to about the scientist's height…actually it seemed as if it was beginning to shape almost identically to his own frame, but one couldn't tell at this stage of development. As opposed to most of the other clones, however, his fourth clone didn't seem to increase too much in height, and in retaliation, two theories formulated in his processor. One stated that—as much energeon the scientist was providing the clone—it was receiving an insufficient amount of energeon and was going to fail to come online. The other, more positive theory stated that its height didn't increase as much as the other clones' heights because it was programmed for stealth, rather than brawn; therefore, the extra height was unnecessary. The fourth clone's form also didn't seem to be developing as quickly as the other clones either, but the scientists figured that that was all just because of how severely this clone's instantiation process differed from the other clones'.
"ERROR! ERROR!" the screen to his control panel blared, as he noticed an unhealthy amount of sparks spewing from his second clone's cranial chamber. "Project 'Blast Off' has crashed. Instantiation process: failed."
Slag! Oh well, he had three more. About four or so groons later, the third clone's form seemed to have overheated and melted. Soon following came the blaring of the control panel's screen, once again.
"ERROR! ERROR! Project 'Acid Storm' has failed to instantiate due to toxic acids burning through protoform's frame."
Frag! He was really hoping that one would come online. Now, he had to formulate an entirely new plan to-
BOOM!
The scientist's make-shift lab—or at least the particular area of it that he resided in—was blanketed with a thick, opaque barrier of black smoke. By the time the smoke had completely cleared and his air vents had heaved out all of the unexpectedly intruding smoke, the scientist caught a cursory glance at the source of the smoke. Unfortunately, said source happened to be the first clone's spark chamber. The control panel's screen blared again.
"ERROR! ERROR! Project 'Thrust' has crashed. Instantiation process: failed." The scientist stared blankly at the screen of the control panel for what seemed to be groons straight, almost as if doing so would somehow convince the control panel to say otherwise and spontaneously will the protoforms back into a perfectly healthy developing state. An optic twitched once or twice before the scientist let out a blood curling screech and slammed his fists down on the control panel's keypad.
"If you would like to send a transmission, please re-enter your communication frequency code and try again." The control panel droned. "If you would like to-"
"Oh, SHUT UP!" the scientist barked while slamming his claws against the proper keys that would soon cut off the control panel's droning.
The scientist rubbed at the sides of his helm with his claws, applying an ever-so-slight amount of pressure to suppress the oncoming processor ache. Even if the last clone did come online—which, at this point, the scientist wasn't so confident that it would—he wasn't sure that he had a sufficient supply of energeon (or patience, for that matter) to create an entire army using the same methods of creation. He was hoping that he wouldn't have to share whatever piece of the All Spark fragment he had in possession in order to create said army, but, now, it seemed to the scientist that he had next to no other choice.
A brief beep aroused the scientist. Groggily, he onlined his optics, and stretched out his limbs and wings—mentally noting that he should try to avoid slipping into recharge in his chair, from this day forth—before looking to the control panel screen. If another clone was going to (either literally or figuratively speaking) blow up in his faceplates, he might as well get comfortable, right? The scientist swiftly tapped in the proper key strokes to allow the message to display itself upon the screen.
"Project 'Sunfire': successful. Instantiation process: complete." The control panel droned. The scientist stared at the screen wide opticed. Did he comprehend that correctly? One of his clones succeeded? He rushed over to the instance pods just to be sure. And there it was.
A flyer, just like what the rest of his clones would have been, with a frame almost mirroring his own—with the exception of it being more petite and…feminine? Well, femmes' frames tended to be smaller than those of mechs', the scientist mused, keeping in mind his theorized reasoning for her small size as opposed to the other, failed clones. Her paint job was definitely…different. Wherever he was gray, she was black (except for her faceplates which were still grey, like his own); wherever he was fuxia, she was golden yellow; wherever he was that deep purple-black color, she was a deep red wine color (except for her helm and waist, both of which were painted black). Her chin was more pointed than his own which—while nestled between her air vents—made her jaw appear heart-shaped. In addition to her jaw, the clone's limbs were much more slim and curved than his own; her torso was also much narrower compared to his own; her waist was slightly more trim than his own, as well, complemented by wider hips to further emphasize her slim waist. All in the name of aerodynamics and stealth, the scientist supposed. The only thing that didn't almost completely mirror the scientist's form (other than the obvious gender differences) was the clone's lack of null rays, but she'd be receiving those soon enough…he'd just have to find a pair that were small enough for her.
The former scientist punched the correct codes in the keypad in front of the instance pod. Astroseconds later, the instance pod hissed open as amber optics onlined themselves.
The clone's optics flickered a couple times, before they began to wander over various objects in the room, taking in and observing her current surroundings. The clone jumped as a light gust of air breezed through her air vents for the first time. Her servos soared to her helm, the source of the strange noise that had most previously startled her. Her servos explored the surface of her helm. She jumped again as another gust of air breezed through her air vents, and past her fingers. She retracted her servos, unused to the alien sensation of physical touch. The clone, then, simply stared at her servos in awe, contemplating the different uses for them, now that she knew of any. Eventually, she tore her gaze away from her servos and then caught sight of something especially peculiar: another being, seemingly living. So uncurious, so seemingly sure of itself and everything around it, unlike herself. It must have been very wise. There was something oddly familiar about it, too. Then, she caught sight of the other being's pedes. Amber optics widened in surprise as the clone noticed that they looked almost exactly like her own. As did his servos. And his cockpit. And his- wait. Did she have wings? … Yes, she did, and those were the same as her own, too. But it wasn't just that that was familiar. No. There was something else. Ceaselessly, this unidentified familiarity rattled her processor…wait…Her processor! Somewhere within her processor, she felt the need to serve this being, to forever follow it.
Slowly, the clone lifted a single one of her two pedes. She swayed for a brief set of astroseconds, trying to get used to the now unbalanced weight on her still planted pede. She outstretched her lifted leg until her pede was outside the strange enclosure that she had been so recently resting in, and let said pede plant itself to the ground. Slowly, she repeated the process with her other pede. After briefly gazing at the other being in awe, the clone's gaze quickly retreated to the ground. She let her knee joints fold beneath her form. She let one servo rest on one of her thighs, and the other, balled into a fist, rest on the ground.
"I am at your service. I am under your complete and unquestionable command. I am, even, at your disposal, Master." The scientist watched his latest creation drone in the voice of a femme that was, maybe, undergoing the mid-adolescent stage of her life-cycle, as his optic ridges popped into perfect arcs and his lip components curled into a most wicked smirk.
"Impressive." The scientist thought aloud. Lord Starscream would have done just as well, but hey, he was flexible.
Yeah, I got a good laugh at Starscream claiming to be flexible, too. XD Btw, did anyone catch the "War For Cybertron" allusion? I would hope so. It was painfully obvious. XD
heh -M-; ...sorry for the focus being on my OC (cuz I know people tend to hate it when writers do that)...you guys were probably expecting someone bad-aft to step out of that instanse pod, huh? Actually, this is just the written part of my OC's profile corresponding to a picture I have of her on Deviantart. I figured this would be too much text to put in the picture's summary. -w-; Well, whether it contains my OC or not, I'm actually glad with how this one turned out!
Btw, just to clear up some misconception that I know will be apparent due to the horrible stereotypes people pin on people's OCs...-inhale-... SUNFIRE IS NOT PAIRED WITH STARSCREAM! (Seriously, I'm a MxSS fan! Those who have read all my fan-fics and snoop through my favs should know this!) I REPEAT: SUNFIRE, MY OC-yes, my OC-IS NOT PAIRED WITH STARSCREAM!
Read and Review, plz (Ok, I know I just tortured you guys by making you read a fan-fic with an OC in it, but pleeeeeaaaaaaase show mercy when you review, please. ;A; )
