Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Hasbro and Takara Tomy do. All recognizable lines from the show are not mine.
Notes: Critic is appreciated.
Summary: In the ashes of their elders and through the misstep of their creators, Defensor arose. (And somewhere along the lines, he fell again.)
They fought against the bonds holding them down, screaming at the Autobots, screaming for each other. They wouldn't go out this way, stuck on some tables in a lab inside a mountain with their wings being disassembled for spare parts and the mechs above them speaking as if they do not have minds of their own.
Their yells only increase in volume as a part of them dies, sudden strong anger and hate gone in a flash.
They are better than this, better than all of them! They will not be killed so easily, they will not just lie down as they are returned to the memory banks where they were taken from.
They feel themselves losing the energy to fight but continue to anyway as energetic courage and rebellion that will extend forever disappears.
It's not fair. They can't be forced to choose between service and death. These are supposed to be the mechs who promote freedom and choice and instead these Autobots have made the decisions for them.
The remaining two call out as a strong, but shaky presence is abruptly cut off despite the resistance. They feel their sparks wither and cry in agony as they are being torn apart in their mind, in their essence.
"And then there was one," a mech murmurs as he permanently erases the mind of another one of the jets who were supposed to help turn the war around and instead fled to other side, little traitors.
The last one is deleted without much of a fuss, already gone for the most part without his wingmates.
There had been so much potential for them to turn out good. But he supposed that jets would always be Seekers after all. They really ought to have had helicopters instead.
"Shame they had to go out that way." The mech mutters, starting to disassemble the bodies for reuse.
"At least they won't be a total waste."
Somewhere, somehow, the voice of Superion roars for a final time in the abandoned structure of Vector Sigma as a new gestalt is formed from the dead remains of the old.
They online their optics groggily for the first times, their sparks pulsing in the glow of new life granted to them, shielded from the war they are expected to assist with that has raged on this innocent planet for too long already.
These bots are exactly what they need and even though the first group was a failure, the mistake has been isolated and linked back to the use of Vector Sigma. The Autobots have learned from their errors and this time their own scientists have made the programming for these new bots, theirfirst successful gestalt.
The Protectobots.
They stand on shaking feet that hold too much responsibility because the Autobots can't afford another team like the last one where the members are disloyal to their cause and too flawed for their purposes. But these ones seem different with their optics bright, curious and new with a purity that will not last, especially not with them standing at the front lines as guards to those who cannot defend themselves.
"Welcome to the Autobot team. I am Optimus Prime and we welcome you Protectobots."
"Uh, hi. I used to be a carrier ship but now I think I'm Silverbolt?"
"Hello, it's nice to meet you. My name is Hot Spot."
"And I'm Air Raid!"
"The name's Streetwise."
"Geez, what is this place? Who are you guys?...Oh, right! I'm Fireflight."
"Hey, I'm Groove."
"I'm Skydive."
"I am First Aid."
"I'm Slingshot. Used to be a speed shuttle, but now I'm the fastest, smartest, hottest jet you ever saw."
"Blades."
"Now let's get back to Earth."
"Welcome to Earth."
And with that the Autobots celebrate their success, the shadow of disappointment the Aerialbots had cast over their ability to obtain a working gestalt finally dissipating into the light that is the Protectobots.
"Who are the Aerialbots?"
The question is asked with a sort of suspicion but not enough to be concerned about.
The Autobot smiles at them and answers with a gentle voice.
"No one."
And Hot Spot nods at the mech and walks away with his brothers, unconvinced with the lack of a proper explanation. Turning towards the rest of his brothers after they enter their room that's always felt like home to them, Hot Spot looks towards Streetwise who already knows exactly where to find the information they need.
Replacements.
They are replacements.
There had been some mechs before them, a gestalt too which had been killed for the Protectobots to be created in their place.
First Aid won't stop looking at the plans in shock, visor glinting as he scans them over and over, hoping beyond hope that there is some mistake, that these bots were simply storedsomewhere else and he can make it so that there'll be two gestalts instead of just one. But there is clear order for termination in the digital print of the glowing datapad and Ratchet has told First Aid time and time again that there is no way to bring back the dead so he shouldn't waste his time on patients who've already passed.
Streetwise has long since taken a seat on one of the seats in the common room of their personal hangar, optics blank and gaze kept straight. He should have known that something was amiss when the word 'Aerialbot' first showed up in some of the files Streetwise had been going through. He should have suspected, should have dug deeper and uncovered this whole mess when the suspicion first settled in. he should have known.
Groove is calm and he understands everything a little too well, hand on First Aid's shoulder as his brother quietly tries to find a solution while they both know full well that there isn't one. Sometimes things happen that aren't fair, that they won't like, but that will not stop them from happening. And once the Universe has decreed for an action, there is no turning back the clock – only moving forward.
Blades is pacing back and forth, rotors twitching as he tries to rationalize the information in his mind. So? They were a bunch of jets. It's a good thing that the jets are dead. It's a good thing that the Autobots got rid of them. Seekers are jets. Seekers are horribly annoying and so these jets would have been too. The Autobots really just did everyone a favor and saved them from having more annoying, Decepticon Seekers.
Hot Spot knows that his team would not be here if the other team hadn't died. He knows that four-fifths of that team walked away from the Autobot cause. He knows that all five formed a sparkless, cold war machine when they combined. He knows that they were described as defective. And he wishes he didn't know that they were alive once, that they might have smiled and laughed and lived had it not been for Hot Spot and his brothers.
But Hot Spot can't just accept the situation as it is because these Aerialbots were a gestalt too, brothers who'd made one wrong choice and were executed for it as a result. What if that happens to his brothers? What if Hot Spot leads them into the wrong decision and the next thing he knows there is another gestalt taking their place?
What if they're not good enough either?
"I can't find it."
First Aid's voice breaks them all out of their thoughts as he looks up to all of his brother as a group.
"I can't find a way to fix them."
The defeat is heavy in his voice and the silence that follows after is even heavier.
"Terminate them."
"What? But they're –"
"I know. We made a mistake. We should have never created them in the first place. All we have is one unstable jet in our ranks and four fighter jets in the Decpecticons'."
"They can still –"
"We can still try again. Capture them, all of them. Erase their cores, their programming, their minds, their selves. Take them apart and start again. Keep the sparks though; we can use those in the new mechs."
"Yes sir."
The battle is getting worse by the moment with the Stunticons causing endless trouble and Megatron standing tall and proud on the cliff side, watching as the world is becoming more suitable with more metal instead of the useless organic material.
Still, the Autobots will not lie down and accept defeat, especially with New York so close by. So the Protectobots had been called upon in case things do escalate, ready to defend as they were built to do.
"Stunticons, unite!"
Megatron's calls out in the middle of the spinning tires, the daunting laughs and the continuous ramming of cars into each other as the Stunticons attempt to run their opponents into the ground (even for Blades as Wildrider is continuously aiming to fly over him and drop down like a dead weight).
All five of the cars merge together and in the midst of their combined chaos Meanasor rises, tall, angry and murderous.
"Behold," Megatron calls out to the Autobots staring in shock at the giant looming above them, large optics scanning and reading them all as targets. "Menasor!"
But Optimus Prime is not worrying at all, knowing that the Protectobots are prepared for this. There had been some coding in the programming of the Aerialbots and even though they'd not had the chance to discover its purpose, an analysis had given the Autobot science team a good idea as to what it coded for. Making a few adjustments to the stability of the future combined gestalt form, the Protectobots had been inserted with the altered data.
"Protectobots, Hot Spot, Streetwise, Groove, First Aid and Blades, transform into Defensor!"
And they do, joining each other around Hot Spot as they turn from ten five mechs into two one.
The Autobot gestlat rises in the midst of the dying, the destruction and the dust of the field that's full of body parts and mechs that need to be repaired, of mechs that are too useful to be lost, of those that should learn to live and let go, of Autobots that were just too slow and it's just dust, move on, we're needed here.
Then let's go! Defensor scans his opponent, Hey, what's that over there? taking a step forward Concentrate Flight. and Meanasor matches it C'mon, let's take him down already! but Defensor holds his position Hey, maybe we can attack him from - We can't attack, we have to help the Autobots first. so Meanasor storms forward to meet Defensor instead Who cares about the Autobots? and soon enough Meanasor is on the offence and Defensor is blocking his attacks, Our primary function is to protect. when the opening appears, the Autobot gestalt retaliates, throwing a punch the other gestalt's way And ours is to fight.
Defensor stands guard Superion charges ahead, the sparks of the mechs pulsing as one as they protect those that are downed they fight to kill the threat, to destroy the enemy and leave nothing behind to be salvaged.
Protect those in need.
Destroy the target.
In the end all the mechs can do is fall to the ground screaming because We need to help and We must kill.
Meansor continues onward regardless, enjoying the pain his victory as inflicted on his enemy.
That's enough. We can work this out by communicating instead of fighting.
Hey, those look like just like our sparks!
They're ours now so back off!
Yours?! Who d'you think you are?
We are Autobots.
Really now? I would've never guessed.
I said back off!
That's enough.
Who are you?
You guys first.
We are the Protectobots.
Yeah? Well we're Aerialbots.
Maybe there's a way for both of us to exist together. I can look into Ratchet's files -
No. It's either us or you.
I guess we'll have to wait and see who stays then.
It'll be us.
Not if I have anything to say about it!
Who said you did?
Guys, enough.
If we put in the right coding, we should be able to regain control.
And we can counter with our firewalls.
Then we'll just force our way through.
Then we'll beat you back!
Not if we beat you first!
In the end, there are two gestalts that are lost and the Autobots mourn the death of one.
Somewhere, somehow, the voice of Defensor calls out in the abandoned structure of Vector Sigma as a new gestalt is formed from the dead remains of the old.
"I am Optimus Prime and on behalf of the Autobots, we welcome you Technobots."
END
Notes:
Just to clarify: Yes, the Autobots do learn their lesson. No more combining gestalts.
Thanks for reading! It's my first time writing TF and the gestalts so if anything is wrong, please let me know.
~Denvana~