Title: Enter the Nightbird - Happenstance

World/Continuity: Movie Alternate Reality

Style: One-shot (serial)

Characters: Prowl, Nightbird, Red Alert

Pairings: hints of ProwlxNightbird

Warnings: None

Author's Notes: More or less this is a "What if?" spawned by watching the episode that gives this particular set of stories (I am planning on writing more with the trio of Nightbird, Prowl, and Red Alert) its name: Enter the Nightbird. More or less I would like to tell the story of Movie Nightbird - who is a pseudo-canon character in my opinion since I tried to base her a lot off of G1 Nightbird - and her journey from neutrality to being a loyal Autobot. I wanted to contrast it to her G1 incarnation where she pretty much didn't have a choice, but at the same time retain some semblance of what she was.

Not sure if I accomplished either one of those, but I had fun trying. Enjoy this alternate universe-ish creation of mine!

Happanstance

Pain is a response that the brain registers to indicate that part of the body is damaged. It is not unique to organic creatures that have myelin-sheathed nerves, but universal. For the great beings from the planet Cybertron, pain is communicated differently, but it is felt the same.

It hurts.

It can be all consuming, and feel like it is eating away at you. At least, that's how he felt once he began to surface a little from recharge. Pain was nibbling at all of his internal structures: his carbon fiber-nanomite frame, his hydraulic vascular system, his digestive system . . . Even his fragging glossa ached. His processor couldn't even recall his name he was in so much pain. He'd only felt like this one time before . . . But he couldn't recall that time either.

Underneath the pain he felt someone touch him. His basic survival programming - instinct - told him to open his mouth. He did so, and felt air moving over his aching glossa and the specially developed array of olfactory sensors on the roof of his mouth. Even metallic beings have unique scents, and the scents can tell quite a tale about their owners. From the scent washing over his olfactory pad, he could tell that the person touching him was a femme, young, and she preferred organic hydrocarbons such as lipids to the synthetics.

"Here, drink," came her voice. It was low-pitched for a female, and her inflections were cultured. It poured over his auditory sensors like a soothing balm.

He felt a container touch his labial plates, and obediently he opened them wider. The liquid splashed over his glossa, activating the gustatory sensors that covered it. Greedily he drank the liquid down, engine quietly revving at the taste of silicone-sweet and hydrocarbon-salty. He then felt another container against his mouth and following the scent, poked out his glossa into the box. The finely grated materials stuck to his magnetized tongue, and he tasted lithium, carbon, titanium, and iron. He consumed all that she gave him, and when she was done feeding him he felt some of his pain abating. The infusion of life-nourishing components had allowed his battered body to begin to heal itself more quickly. With this lessening of the pain came the ability to call upon his processor. He realized that he had no idea where he was and who was taking care of him.

"Who?" he asked, his voice whisper thin out of his vocalizer. He didn't have the energy to produce more sound or to find her digital frequency.

"I am Neutral designation Nightbird. You are safe here Autobot. Recharge. You need it."

He would have nodded if he could move. He took her advice and let himself sink back into recharge.

Nightbird stared at her patient, wondering who he was. Paradron had been disconnected from Cybertron ever since the war started because the elders of the colony had decided that they would not let themselves or their families become embroiled in the fight. They had claimed neutral status while a good chunk of the rest of the Cybertronian race had chosen a side. Gigantion, Velocitron, and Nebulos had pledged themselves Autobots; Circuit, Animatros, and Quintessa had pledged Decepticon. Only Tyrest and Paradron had remained Neutral.

Since then, they had only been concerned that the war never came to Paradron. According to the Tyrest Accord that both leaders had signed, the Neutral colonies were to be free from the war. Violating the Accord would result in the full might of Tyrest coming down on the violators. Before the war Tyrest had built up a mighty military, and they kept it up in order to police the two sides. Even the Decepticons respected the might of Tyrest. But Paradron had wanted absolutely nothing to do with the war whereas Tyrest acted as rough mediator.

Nightbird sighed, a whisper of air instead of the great exhaust produced by others. It looked like Paradron would not continue in its self-imposed isolation. Already they had Onslaught and his Combaticons taking up space not far from the capital. Onslaught claimed that since Megatron had died that the war was over, and he had no ill will towards the people of Paradron. She wasn't so sure. She was sure that as soon as he found out about this Autobot, chaos would ensue. The war may possibly be over, but old hostilities would still simmer.

She knew that she had to keep the Autobot safely hidden for now. She was trained in Metallikato yes, but she used her training the same way Paradrons had been using the training for the many cycles since the war began. She used it as a defensive art. Just because there was no war did not mean that Paradron was utopian. She would use her training to protect this mech while he recovered, and that looked to take a long while relatively. He was severely injured, but she had hesitated to take him to the Med Bay. She knew that he wouldn't be safe there, not with Decepticons in the area.

"Has he eaten?"

Nightbird looked up as her friend Red Alert walked in. It was very fortunate that Red was a highly trained medic. "Yes, he consumed all of the Silicibon and metal meal that you provided. He was even strong enough to ask one question."

"What was the question?"

"Who I was." Nightbird turned back to look at her temporary ward. "He has a good voice. Even as softly as he could speak I could tell it was a good one."

"Your instincts for that are rarely off Nightbird," Red Alert replied. "Now, let's get another look here. I'm afraid his crash landing probably broke most of his frame-struts. Not to mention that his choice of landing pads left much to be desired. That swamp muck probably did as much damage as the crash did."

Nightbird examined the mech again. A great deal of his interior works was exposed through the gaps where his armor had been obliterated by the impact. Unfortunately for the Autobot he had entered Paradron's atmosphere at too steep an angle and the immense forces at work had cracked his cometary armor. She could also see the fractured struts through the holes. She examined his face passively and decided that he was probably quite aesthetically pleasing before his unfortunate run in with Paradron's surface. Perhaps he would still be once he was fully healed. "We need to keep him a secret. If that pompous mercenary Onslaught finds out I have no doubt he would either kill this mech or try to use him for some nefarious scheme."

"In that we agree Nightbird," Red Alert replied. "I will do some more work on him, but a lot of this looks like we're going to have to let his personal healing programming work. I can't take most of the materials I would need from the Med Bay without explanation."

Nightbird nodded, resigned to not sleeping in her own berth for quite some time.

He came in and out of consciousness. He was still unaware of where he was, but he did make sure to listen to whatever conversations Nightbird had while he was online. He found himself looking forward to her voice. It soothed him, and he knew that he needed to stay calm and immobile. He'd finally run a diagnostic on himself roughly a ship's week after he'd crashed. His internal workings were mostly mended including his frame-struts, but he had large patches of armor missing from his torso and upper legs. His body was still keeping his processing time to a minimum so that it could divert resources towards healing the holes. Nightbird cared for him the entire time he was out, feeding him, running routine maintenance on his other systems.

Finally, three ship weeks after he'd crashed, he came fully online. His bright blue optical sensors scanned the room around him, taking in all the details. The walls were made of a purplish stone and were intricately carved with Cybertronian runes. He could read the story on the wall and recognized it as an old sparkling's tale about the Dark God Unicron. He'd heard that story over and over as a new creation. The furnishings of the room were sparse with only the berth he was laying on, two cabinets containing an impressive array of weapons, a bedside table, and a chair that was currently occupied.

The occupant of that chair was a dull purple color with accents of navy blue over dark grey. The femme looked to be of the same model line as Elita-One and he wondered if there was a possible relation. Her conversation reminded him a great deal of Elita, but without the great loyalty to the Autobot cause. Nightbird seemed to truly be neutral as she scorned both the Autobot and Decepticon cause. She reached forward and touched his arm. "Good evening," she said gently.

"Good evening," he replied. "You are Nightbird?"

"Yes," she answered. "And you are?"

"Prowl."

Nightbird examined her now conscious patient with an admiring eye. She had guessed that he would be aesthetically pleasing once he was healed, and she was right. Except for the kibble that jutted from his back, he was handsomely made. His creator must have been proud that the creation turned out so well. Too bad he was an Autobot. "Well Prowl, you are almost healed."

He cocked his head. "Where am I?"

"You are on Paradron."

He frowned. "A Neutral colony."

She nodded. "Yes, as soon as you are healed we will have to find you a small craft to leave. Paradronians will not welcome you here after you are fully healed and capable of leaving."

"I am aware of Paradron's feelings," Prowl murmured.

She shook her head. "You do not understand, it is not just custom. If not for the circumstances we are in right now I wouldn't care how long it took to get you up and about and on your way. Unfortunately, we currently have Decepticons in residence and nothing our elders have thought of is getting them to leave."

Prowl sat up gingerly, still favoring his left side where he took the most damage. "Which Decepticons are these?"

"Onslaught and his Combaticons."

Prowl said something quite pithy. "It would be the Onslaught and his cronies."

"I take it he does not particularly like you," she murmured.

He nodded. "He's still carrying a grudge from when I managed to crash an arms deal Swindle was doing with Starscream. Onslaught does not take well to being beaten."

"But I thought Swindle and Starscream were both Decepticons."

"They are. However, Swindle deals in personal mods that can make already dangerous opponents even more so. Swindle is not required to share personal mod tech with his fellows for free," Prowl answered.

"That does not sound fair," Nightbird said softly. "So he doesn't like you for that. It is a good thing then that I hid you."

"Yes, and I thank you for that," Prowl said. "I would be offline by now without you."

Nightbird nodded feeling a little glow of pleasure from his honest thanks. "Here, drink," she said, handing him a cube.

Prowl took the nourishing liquid and drained it. Nightbird watched him pensively. "I have heard stories about you from the Combaticons. Onslaught and Swindle have both taken a liking to me even though I do not particularly prefer their company. Is it true that you were one of the original Autobots?"

"I was there when the first shots of the war were fired," he said with a grimace. "I was severely injured before we even knew we were under attack. Starscream's squad had hidden in the ruins of Metrotitan and fired on us while we were crossing an exposed bridge."

"They also said that you were the leader of a Security Forces team that had gone rogue."

"We only went rogue because Megatron betrayed us. I was obeying his orders to bring in Optimus for treason when we were attacked. Granted, I had my doubts about Optimus's guilt, but I was still doing as I was bid. More than anything that betrayal of my loyalty is what convinced me to become an Autobot rather than retreating to a neutral colony like some others did."

Nightbird sat back. "I see. I cannot blame you for feeling that way. Are you just as loyal to Optimus?"

Prowl placed his cube on the small table beside the bed. "More so. I owed Megatron my allegiance because he was the Lord Protectorate and I was a loyal soldier for Cybertron. I owe Optimus my allegiance because I believe in him. And, though he will not admit to it, because he saved my life. It was his heroism and leadership that allowed our band to escape from Starscream that day. I have never forgotten it even though I witnessed it through a haze of pain."

She nodded, unwillingly impressed by Prowl's sincerity. "This Optimus does not sound like the one that I know."

Prowl cocked his head. "How so?"

"I was created only a thousand cycles ago, and I was raised on tales about the war and the leaders of it. Megatron is said to be a ruthless dictator whose only concern is his ill-advised notion of Cybertronian Galactic Manifest Destiny, and Optimus - we were taught to not give him the honor of calling him Prime - was an past-less upstart who didn't know when to quit."

Prowl controlled his anger. "I cannot deny the tales about Megatron, but I resent the tales about Prime."

She shrugged. "I can understand your reasons for that, but the fact remains that Optimus is seen that way by my people."

"And you? You believe this too don't you?"

"I have to think on it. You have given me a glimpse at a side of him that we have not observed here. Neither of us can deny the past-less part of his infamy since that has been apart of his description since he became head of the Science Division. However, I think I might need to add more to his schema like brave and worthy of a mech's loyalty." Nightbird rose. "I warn you though; I have seen more of Megatron's character through Onslaught's stories. Megatron has also been fleshed out to me as an intelligent mech with an appreciation of courage and grit in others. I am a Neutral, Prowl; it is not in my nature to see one of them as being better than the other."

He nodded. "I appreciate your willingness to try to see him in another light. In your position, I realize that's a lot to ask. If you were to publicly decry one while praising the other you will have in effect chosen a side. As I understand it, you would then be obliged to leave Paradron."

"Yes. No one can choose a side here, but we do grant sanctuary to weary soldiers in need of healing," she said. "Rest now. By tomorrow your systems should be ready for you to be up and about."

Prowl nodded and laid back. "Again, my thanks."

Nightbird looked back at him from the doorway. "My pleasure."

Prowl ruminated on what he was to do now. He supposed he should continue on to Earth, but he didn't have a ship to leave the atmosphere of Paradron. He'd been forced to abandon the small pod he had shared with Bluestreak and Wheeljack when they'd been attacked by a marauding band of Decepticons. The plan had been to lead the Decepticons away from the ship and then return to it in order to complete the journey. If one of them did not return in a Cybertronian month then the remaining members of the tiny crew were to continue on without him.

Prowl guessed that he was probably going to be left behind here on Paradron. It was not an unpleasant realization since he genuinely liked Nightbird and her friend Red Alert. Red Alert was a pragmatic medic who was very interested in any stories Prowl had about Ratchet. Apparently the Paradrons had heard of Ratchet's skill as a medic and were suitably impressed. They were quick to point out that they didn't condone his choice, but they admired his ability all the same. Red Alert always perked up when she heard the Autobot CMO's name, but she was sure to follow the attitudes of her fellows. However, Prowl sensed that she felt for the Autobot cause, and perhaps if she'd been born on Cybertron she would have joined the Autobots. He knew first hand her skill as a medic, and he felt that she would be an asset to the Autobot cause. He kept those thoughts to himself because he knew Nightbird might get angry.

After he'd fully recovered, he was given a temporary berth in Nightbird's lodgings. She had been using it during his convalescence, but he wouldn't hear of her using it after he was well. The two of them lived together very well once Prowl thought about it. He'd only shared quarters with one other mech before, but he decided that he preferred Nightbird to Jazz. His old partner and friend was a good mech, but Jazz was a mite too rambunctious for Prowl's peace of mind. It was a lovely feeling to be able to share a room with another Cybertronian who valued quiet.

Even more than the quiet, Prowl enjoyed his conversations with her. Nightbird was intelligent and well versed in many subjects of Cybertronian culture. Once the war started major movements in art and literature had been virtually suspended, but philosophy had exploded both on and off Cybertron. The idea of a Galactic Manifest Destiny versus the idea of Sanctity of Freedom - as the philosophies of the Autobots and Decepticons came to be known in intellectual circles - was a heated debate in the Cybertronian communities, even the Neutral zones like Paradron.

"But you agree that planets that do not have life are free for colonization," Nightbird said.

Prowl nodded as he sipped from his cube of Silicibon. "Yes, planets devoid of life are perfectly fine for colonization because there is no prior claim. My argument - and the argument of all Autobots - is that it is not right to take a planet from beings that have a prior claim. Megatron's Galactic Manifest Destiny says that it is our right to take over planets that are colonized, not just by native life, but also native sentiences."

She toyed with some metal meal. "But what if the sentient beings in question do not deserve what they are given? There are some that say that the Factions do not deserve to have Cybertron because they systematically destroyed it."

"But who are we to judge?" he shot back. "Why should it be our right to choose for others? Sentient beings have the right to choose for themselves and non-sentient beings have the right to live as well. In the former case it is our duty to let them choose and in the latter it is our duty to allow them to live."

"But who says it's our duty?" Nightbird argued. "Why should Cybertronians be charged with protecting other life."

"The Dynasty said it was so, and more importantly, Optimus believes in them which gives them weight."

She shook her head. "And Optimus's beliefs are really that important?"

"Yes. Not to all Autobots, but even those who are lukewarm when it comes to the politics behind the cause stop and listen to what he says," he answered.

Nightbird was silent for a moment. Her next question was simple. "Why?"

Prowl leaned forward in his seat. "Optimus's special ability is to lead. It is his nature to lead and protect. That was my very first impression of him when I met him cycles and cycles ago. Then he was merely the leader of the Science Division, tasked with watching over the scientists and researchers delving into the past of Cybertron."

She nodded, urging him to continue.

"Optimus became my friend over a long period of time," he said, "And I learned to trust him. He was modest, intelligent, truthful, and he rarely let his temper get away from himself. In short he was the kind of mech that I could admire. Then he was accused of treason and was attacked outside of Metrotitan. He showed courage, grit, and the willingness to do what was needed in order to ensure the safety of those under him. In all my cycles in the Security Forces, I had seen that in my comrades true, but for it to come from a mech whose station in life was merely to watch over quiet digs in far flung climes . . . It amazed me.

"Those in the Science Division were not given extensive defense training. In fact, the only reason Optimus could fight at all was because he was raised by an old warrior named Kup and was friends with Security officers like me. Optimus comes from nothing to pretty much anyone who is not an Autobot because he cannot lay claim to a known lineage. No one knows why, but we Autobots feel that that is not really important. We do not know for sure if he is a Prime or not, but we feel that he deserves the name. Not because of lineage, but because he believes what they stood for and acts accordingly."

He sat back. "He did not take the name, we gave it to him. First Ratchet, then Arcee, then Ironhide, Jazz, me . . . At first he didn't want it, but after a time he recognized that we wanted to honor him with it. I don't know if he is a Prime or not, but honestly, I don't care. As far as I am concerned, he is a Prime by his actions, not his creators."

She was silent for a moment. "You almost make me want to meet this Optimus Prime so that I can see what you see. He sounds almost too good to be true. Can anyone really come from nothing, to become someone who matters so much to the ones under him? I sense that he isn't just your leader, that he is also your symbol."

"I guess you're right there. He's our symbol of hope. Hope that the war will end someday. But I think all leaders are symbols in some way. Isn't that their nature? To be someone, something that their people can rally around?" Prowl asked.

"I don't know," she murmured. She stared at him for long moments, fully realizing that in that moment she began to feel something more for him. She dared not name it, but Nightbird knew that she would have liked to stay with Prowl for a long, long time.

Nightbird was trying her best to find a way to help Prowl get off of Paradron, but she found herself wishing that he could stay. She enjoyed his company, and he seemed to enjoy hers. However, he could not stay. He had to go, not just because of Paradron's culture, but also because he needed to find his way back to his leader. His regard of Optimus Prime was enough to convince her that he had to leave, even though she was tempted to try to get him to stay. At last she found a small ship, but there was a rather large problem.

The ship was owned by Swindle.

"Red, we have to find a way to purchase that ship without Onslaught and Company finding out about Prowl."

Red Alert shook her head. "What reason could we give him? We'd like to take a little jaunt to the moon?"

"Perhaps," Nightbird mused. "But we cannot possibly tell him the truth. He would go after Prowl without a second thought."

"Why not just steal it?" Red Alert said.

Nightbird was an honorable femme. She didn't like that idea of theft, but it seemed that that would be the best way to handle it all. "Alright, but how are we going to do it?"

"Why not go back and ask Prowl?" Red Alert stated. "He's a tactician isn't he?"

Nightbird agreed, but she hated the idea still.

When he was presented with the scheme, Prowl grinned. "Describe to me Onslaught's compound."

"He has a perimeter fence but no motion sensors. The shared quarters are open air so he always has another Combaticon looking out for the group," Red Alert said.

"He doesn't have tight security because he knows no Paradronian would challenge him," Nightbird added.

Prowl nodded. "You told me that Swindle and Onslaught both have taken a liking to you."

"Yes," she responded cautiously.

"What do the Combaticons who are not on watch do?"

"Recharge and eat," Red Alert piped up.

Prowl's expression took on a decidedly diabolical cast. "When does Swindle have watch?"

"Late afternoon usually," Nightbird said, finally catching onto his train of thought.

"Nightbird, you and your good friend Red Alert are going to pay the Decepticons a visit tomorrow afternoon. Nightbird will be having a very nice conversation with Swindle and Onslaught, while Red takes some time to get to know the Combaticons."

Nightbird and Red Alert both loved the plan.

Nightbird watched the landing pad out of the corner of her eye. One of her favorite lessons with Metallikato was the ability to look one way and see another. She watched Prowl cautiously creeping up on the ship while she kept Onslaught and Swindle occupied. The two Decepticons were obviously in ecstasy because she was paying them attention. Red was entertaining the other Combaticons while they blatantly ogled her feminine form. Nightbird had to admit that Red Alert was a good looking femme with her petite bipedal body, red and white armor, and large amber optics.

"So what do you think of -" Swindle broke off and glanced at the landing pad. "Hey!"

Red Alert and Nightbird both swung their heads toward the pad. Prowl was standing just underneath the wing of the small ship in a crouch. "Prowl!" Onslaught cried. "How nice to see you! Combaticons!"

Prowl reacted swiftly, but Nightbird knew that it was unlikely that he would win against the Combaticons. In that one moment, she knew that she would have to make a choice that would forever change her life. Either she would stand by and watch Prowl's destruction or she would lay down her mantel of Neutrality and choose her allegiance. She had long accepted that she would lose Prowl because he had to leave, but she refused to lose him to death. In his time here he had managed to wiggle his way into her Spark and she'd be damned before she watched him die in front of her. Against her Metallikato training, against a lifetime of philosophy, Nightbird made a choice.

Onslaught never knew what hit him. Literally.

Nightbird rushed the other three Combaticons, and out of her periphery she saw Red Alert take care of Swindle. Only Vortex and Blast Off were left. Nightbird slammed into Vortex's back, and the Decepticon whirled away from Prowl. Nightbird sliced through his upper arm, and Red Alert slammed into his legs. Vortex was unable to handle them both at the same time and was quickly dispatched. Prowl finished off Blast Off with a precise shot to the slightly larger robot's chassis.

He stared at the two females standing across the fallen bodies of the two Combaticons. "You do realize what the two of you have done don't you?"

Red Alert nodded. "In my case, choosing the Autobots was probably inevitable. I have felt drawn to your cause my entire existence."

Nightbird was not so accepting. "I do not relish this, I would not choose this for any other reason, but I chose it for you Prowl. I could never stand by and watch you be killed. You are my friend." Maybe more, she added silently.

Prowl smiled. He had hoped for a small sign of affection from her, but this was more than enough for him. For now. "And I would do the same for you Nightbird."

Red Alert chuckled. "Now that we have established how much we all love each other, why don't we leave? Or have the two of you forgotten the nice cruiser beside us and the Decepticons at our feet?"

Prowl and Nightbird gave her a look and boarded the ship.

It was much later before Nightbird thought to ask where they were going. "Prowl, where exactly are we headed?"

"To Earth."

"Earth?" Red Alert asked. "I've never heard of that planet."

"Earth is the place where the main theater of war now resides," Prowl murmured. "Though many an Autobot regrets the necessity of it being fought on another planet."

"But you . . . We are not the invaders," Nightbird replied. "We are protecting this world are we not?"

Prowl glanced at her. "Yes, yes we are." He understood the magnitude of her slip and correction. Nightbird was now an Autobot, as was her friend Red Alert. They were now his comrades. Their loyalty in the coming days would be tested time and again, but for now he was content with the knowledge that they were with him.