This started as a vague notion and became a monstrosity I have focussed on for the last ten days writing. It was originally intended as an 'Inspired' oneshot but became much more- I put a lot of myself into this fic, so would really appreciate any feedback anyone has on it.
Has obvious AU elements, set emphatically pre-G1, some ignorance of canon and filling in blanks as I saw fit, general spoilers for the canon I did know (very little, tell truth). Starts off essay-like but following chapters are more interactive.
Disclaimer- heh, I wish.
Warnings- genderbending- Orion Pax= Aurora Pax, Optimus Prime= ..?, slight gender confusion, mild language, English spelling, multiple pairings- ending up fem!Optimus/Megatron, but this is not a romance fic- mentioning lesbian robot relationships, minor OC usage.
(anyone who picks up the references behind femme!Optimus's names gets my eternal devotion and a cyber-cookie.)
Think that's it. With that done, I hope you enjoy.
Her creators had thought they'd been granted a mech. Her first frame had, accordingly, been a masculine one, from the physical components to the subroutines in her processor. Even though her memories of those first vorns were patchy and corrupted, the impression it left on her spark was permanent.
Her second frame was a femme model- the most high-tech her creators could afford, in an attempt to correct any possible damage from their mistake. It didn't work out very well. She damaged herself more times in those fifty vorns than in every other part of her life put together until the War broke out. She'd been unable to adjust her thought patterns to the alien paths of a feminine CPU; she frequently forgot that a femme's frame wasn't designed to the same specifications as a mech's.
They tried something different for her third frame- a mech's processor in a femme's body. The constructors had looked at her creators strangely, but acquiesced when the topic of their payment was addressed handsomely. They thought that if she could process in the same manner as she was used to, it would help her remember her new limits. They weren't entirely wrong, but she was still the most accident prone youngling in the city, a fact often joked about in the local medical centre.
The fourth and final frame, as tradition dictated, was supposed to be the last formal gift from a creator to their creation- their Coming of Age present. She rejected that idea quickly; her creators looked crestfallen until she explained that she wanted to design it herself, but if they could have it constructed for her that would still be welcome. She'd been drawing provisional sketches over the last few orns, testing out the sensory reactions and subroutines that worked best for her in the current frame, and starting anew with those she found lacking. The finished product, drawn in full technical detail, made her creators freeze for moments before understanding passed through their optics. They nodded, unable to conceal the slight sadness in their expressions, but assured her it would be exactly as she had designed.
The design- it wasn't a mech frame; it had the features that clearly delineated it as feminine. But it wasn't the typical femme frame either; the limbs were more solid, better for strength than the speed most femmes preferred. The shoulders, too, were broader than typical, unbalancing the symmetry between hip and shoulder that again, most femmes displayed. Yes, the constructor had explained to her before the medics switched her spark for the final time, there have been other femmes with undeniably masculine traits, but they were either designed for specific functions or too poor to be fussy. Never has such a frame been commissioned on a- he'd broken off there, apparently frustrated but not knowing how to say it- on a flight of fancy, or some other ridiculous passing craze! You'll regret this when your spark's too stabilized to switch. Give it a hundred vorns; you will regret this!
She'd thanked him coolly for his work and asked him to be escorted from the operating room. Her creators were supporting each other silently, guilt clear to see.
Although she knew it wouldn't change anything, she made one last attempt to console them. "I'm not the one with issues on how my spark flares," she said gently, optics beseeching them to believe her. "I've never had any problems with it." She took a deep breath, intakes heaving. "I can't speak for everyone else, but this is how I am and no Cybertronian, mech or femme, will change my opinion in this matter. If they have an issue, they can deactivate in a pit of rust and plague-ridden turbo-rats."
Her femme creator was shocked into releasing a laugh that bordered on hysterical. Her mech creator, after a beat, raised an optic ridge and asked where his little femme had learned to talk like that. It was the best she was going to get.
She gave them one last smile before lying back and letting the waiting medic put her under. When she next onlined, it could go two ways- either her frame would be the closest thing she would ever have to fitting- or it would be irreconcilable with her spark, and she would be sent immediately back offline, this time permanently.
She never admitted to anyone the trepidation she felt as her third frame's sensors powered down for the final time. She thought the risk was justified, and nobody was going to undermine that.
Similarly, the relief she felt in the first few seconds of onlining again was never mentioned. Then those seconds passed, and her sensors and subroutines reconciled themselves in one swift process of right-right-this-is-right. She ordered her optics to power up; the reaction was instantaneous, without the lag time her second frame had suffered as it went through unfamiliar channels.
She laughed, absolutely delighted with the feeling, smiling so widely at her creators that they had to mirror the expression back.
"Cybertron welcomes its new sister," the medic she'd forgotten in a rush of right-right-right intoned. "I present to Primus and His people, Aurora Pax, beloved of the Almighty Creator."
Aurora Pax barely heard him as she smiled throughout her Coming of Age ceremony.
This was finally right.