Alien By Perspective

The concoction of one's mind when deprived of sleep, fuelled off of stale pizza and surrounded by an insane clan of friends while watching Guardians of the Galaxy, and then proceeding to watch a marathon of various Si-Fi films.

"Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying." – Arthur C. Clarke

Chapter 1

She had faced death a thousand times, and yet she hadn't truly felt the certainty of its grasp until today. It stared back at her, in a cacophony of rum purple rims and scattering of stars so concentrated, if not for the painful intensity of their despair, Atalanta would have mistaken them for specs of dusk upon the ship's glass visor.

Death, rather poetically she thought, came in the form of Sector 6F000-'s black hole, 52 clicks from the nearest rock of sentient life, thankfully. That also meant 52 clicks too far for help to reach her ship in time.

Panic was setting in, despite the fact that for once, she was welcoming death, rather than running away (or dishing it out to another). The bottomless hell that crept towards her was both fascinating and utterly soul-wrenchingly terrifying. What would be on the other side? Was there an afterlife? Ghosts? Which religion in all the billions she had heard of in the galaxy was right, or had she been wise to stick to the 'I'll believe it when I see it' route.

These questions were merely her excitable curiosity acting up. Whatever awaited her, she would trudge on through and meet as she always had.

Adaptation.

Her speciality, she could brag.

Hell, others started saying it before she did.

Considering that she was human, probably one of the only ones (scatch that, the only one) to have survived like she had outside of Earth's miniscule orbit, she was respected, feared. Ok, perhaps not by all. Of course there was the Galactic Senate who were always hovering around her backside lest she break one of their precious laws, and perhaps she did have a habit of double crossing, stealing, killing, black market dealing, speeding, revolting…

Where were we again?

Ahhh yes. So perhaps Atalanta didn't make the most valiant mark on the galaxy, but her name caused people to pause, curse, become weary, in some way react.

Her fame stemmed from her godly ambition and nerve, causing her to go above and beyond her role as a bounty hunter, if you could call her that.

Everything about her was a contradiction, as were the events surrounding her life.

Some races considered her exotic, desirable or maybe even dinner. Others as a possible new slave girl, or even down right insect that would be fun to squish.

Being picked up by a fleet of rogue hunter ships after days of floating around the Indian Ocean at 5 years old was sheer luck. Some may think the opposite, but not Atalanta. The holiday cruise she was on had faced a bad bought of storms, and she had snuck out onto the deck, only to be wash over board like a tiny rock. It was a miracle she had survived not drowning in itself, and despite her love of cold weather, she would have died of hypothermia within a few hours had she not been found and treated with their fancy alien medicine when she had been.

They had been chasing down some escaped Forzians for a wealthy merchant, nasty eel like creatures whose skin and fat could get you a lot of credits if you had a silver tongue. Atalanta had been picked up for the amusement of the Captain, a four-armed ex-pirate from sector 777U who thought her long hair was fascinating and a brilliant substitute for a leash to drag her around with. Thanks to his habit of picking up souvenirs, and being rather possessive of them, she was relatively 'safe' from the other crewmembers for a 3 more good human years.

After realising that the Captain's interest of her wellbeing was dwindling, she picked up the art of universal scrapping and fist fighting from the crew to survive, and worked hard when she hid in the engine room on singing. She knew her personal survival depended on how much she was worth, and her skill set. The moment the Captain looked like he was going to hand her over to the cook when rations and credits were low, Atalanta revealed her hidden talent at holding a tune, much to everyone's surprise. And so, she gained more time alive, learning at an early age to best avoid the others, earn favours where she could and learn all that she saw.

Once reaching her first decade of life, Atalanta was a spring little thing that could swing and scurry through the ship like Tarzan among his jungle. Her credits and place in the ship were earned by being useful as both entertainment and the chosen one to do all the little (both literally and of importance) jobs. Despite the various species that roamed the ship, none chose to chase her as food as long as she didn't interact with them for too long.

And so she grew into the ranks of the bounty hunters by the skin of her teeth, which were blunt and useless in comparison to many of her comrades. A natural talent for combat and a keen eye made the Captain notice her again, sending her on short missions in groups as tests. Her own silver tongue and sharp wit developed to save her from her own hot headed arrogance and stubbornness. A light tread and alliance with shadows also proved her a flighty thief as well. All in all, Atalanta became the perfect bounty hunter. Against all odds, she, a human, had adapted to the open planes of the galaxy and was shaped by it.

Soon, she struck out on her own, after paying the lengthy debt that the Captain demanded of letting her live for 17 years, and she 'borrowed' a quick scout ship to skip to a far away Sector and cover her tracks in a neutral port. The ports were her favourite places. Thousands of different cultures and life forms all rubbing shoulders in the markets, the engineering of different civilisations hovering next to each other at the docks. There was always work there, always a contract to complete for the right amount of credits.

Humans were considered as one of the baby races of the galaxy. Give them a couple hundred years, and they would become vaguely threatening. They were blind to what was happening, not even capable of reaching the ends of their own solar system. To those who recognised Atalanta for she was, she was certainly a surprise, especially when she started to make a name for herself.

Did you here about the collapse of that Gorgan base north of the capital? Heard it was that Atalanta again; should've known not to put her in a normal prison ship. Lack security an' all. Apparently she blew up the entire barracks just because they gave that ship of hers a dent or something.

Atalanta's on the run again; pissed of the Yautja arbitrators after they were both assigned to the same contract. Heard she did it first and left a nasty sonic bomb as a present.

Teetering the line of criminal and honest livelihood was what she did best; break all the rules, but complete the work you were sent out to do efficiently so that you were just too valuable to eliminate. Eventually, the Galactic Senate had officially employed her with a hefty pay and immunity across the entire galaxy for her services as long she never worked against their interests. That suited her just fine; it gave her even more freedom to explore, fill her ship, the same scout she from all those years ago, with the countless treasures and memories she lived.

No other human had lived like she had; hell, to her, a normal life just wasn't worth it in comparison to hers. She had seen planets explode, the start and end of wars, monstrous races rule over others like nobles. She knew the sounds of the utter silence of space, the loud throng of animation at the ports, the humming of life that seemed to carry the same base in every world she went to. She knew the feel of the skins of a billion organisms, the handle of countless weapons, the punches and kicks of even more opponents.

Not to mention the bruises they left behind.

Occasionally, she'd find a sign that Earth still existed here and there. Clans discussing whether to hunt there in the next season; a teddy bear being sold to a clueless buyer that thought it was an ionic neutraliser for organics; even recordings and data files from the mud ball. Some how, she had salvaged a working radio, and had managed an impressive collection of earth audio files, from soul music, to AM frequency recordings, to intercepted telephone conversations in Nebraska. Like many lone wolves in the galaxy, she was a hoarder. If the Earth ever blew up, she was likely the best archive to preserve its memory around.

Despite all this, she never went back. If she was in denial about missing Earth, it was so pushed back she couldn't feel it anymore. A breathing system embedded in her trachea and lungs allowed her to survive all atmospheres, a translator chip in her spinal cord and brain gave her the opportunity to communicate. Why would she need to go back? Many worlds had nature like earth; many were more advanced, bigger, and funnier. Apart from her archives of audios, pictures, history, clothes and books, there wasn't much else that interested her. Everything she needed to draw in her logs about Earth could be accessed without even being within 20 clicks of the rock.

She was happy. Living a life that constantly was changing like a raging meteor storm. Doubt rarely filled her mind, and loneliness could easily be fought back with temporary companions or a lengthy contract in a team. The end of her life was fogged by the unknown, despite the amount of times she had been in full blown battles, at blaster point, being chased, double crossed, and that one time she had attracted the attention of an extremely horny Kigarian, a race of tentacle haired humanoids whose saliva happened to be poisonous to humans.

Yet after all this, she had almost done a full loop in her life. Her last contract, to run after a primitive human ship that had somehow escaped the clutches of the Yautja, who seemed to class them as their second favourite prey. The winner of first place was of course the Xenomorphs, a pesky race that could be found in most corners of the galaxy. The Galactic Senate had a full time job at keeping their numbers in check, considering that they weren't picky what they impregnated with chest bursters. The idiots on the human vessel didn't even know that a Queen had snuck on board with them, as was confirmed when her body wasn't found at the sight of the hunt or anywhere in range.

Atalanta's mission was simple; she and her partner were to meet up and infiltrate the humans ship, destroy the infestation and make sure the humans didn't get their grubby hands on any advanced tech without inventing it themselves.

Her partner was the only Yautja she particularly liked, and one of the only decent organisms she trusted enough to call something close to a friend. He was a seasoned arbitrator by the name of Barkuub and was over 100 years older than her. Despite trying to skin her and take her head as a trophy when they first met before she left the navy of the Captain's bounty hunters, she had ended up surviving Barkuub long enough to save both of them from a stray grenade, as well as retrieving the relic that the clients wanted for 100,000 credits. After agreeing to save the death match for another time due to Atalanta being surprisingly honourable for a human, they had bumped into each other once or twice, until actually making to effort to collaborate on missions. A respect grew between them, as well as a companionship and fondness that neither had suspected.

They had taken Atalanta's scout ship, being that it's design didn't look nearly as futuristic or threatening as Barkuub's much larger hunting vessel, and had cut off all engines and visible signs of life, hovering in the path of the human's ship and playing possum. As planned, they were pulled into the larger human ship and after being left alone when the locks couldn't be broken and the welders could not break the outer metal, they had snuck out when the loading bay was cleared for the 'night'.

Quickly, the scouting Xenomorphs were found, all killed but for one which lead them towards the nest, which was situated in the women's changing rooms of all places. All life forms that they came across, be it black aliens or fleshy humans were dealt with swiftly.

However, a hitch in the plan had happened. A small group of humans had realised what was happening, and had tried to lure the Xenomorphs to the escape pods. Long story short, one of them had panicked and hid in the engine room, and had gone gung-ho with the grenades and ammunition, causing serious power failure. Enraged, Atalanta and Barkuub had quickly killed the humans, as well as the Xenomorphs, and took on the queen.

She was a giant beast, larger than predicted and cunning. Thwarted again and again, they darted around her, landing blows where they could while avoiding her spiked tail and dripping acid blood.

And then the Queen's tail had swiped Atalanta straight in the stomach, and would have cracked a few ribs if not for her armour. She hit the wall hard, blacking out for a few precious moments, only to wake in agony she had never felt before and hatchling worming its eggs down her throat. Seconds later, Barkuub had ripped it off, hoping that he had been quick enough and together they had taken down the Queen.

But not until she had struck Barkuub, playing dead in her final moments. It was one of the only times Atalanta had screamed and cried for some one else, had killed in revenge as she beat the skull of the Queen in. Nothing could be done. Barkuub's medical kit had smashed hours ago, and the tail was still woven through the hole in his chest. She herself could barely stay conscious. If any drone Xenos had survived, she would be done for. Neither of them were fit to run a full check of the ship, and now neither would be leaving.

She wasn't sure if she was imagining the hissing at first, but if she wasn't, it meant that not all the hive was killed, even if the Queen had died. Another could take over, laying eggs and restarting the entire mess again.

She lay over Barkuub as his neon green blood coated her hands and front like rain. His amber eyes held a fondness that she never had received so truthfully, and it was from a Yautja of all races. She remembered the leathery scales of his skin; the dull final clicks of his mandibles, and the warmth of his hands as they cupped her cheeks. That sent her in another wave of sobs.

She hated him seeing her so weak, when he always said how strong she was for a human. She hated that she was leaving, she hated that she had not noticed that damn hatchling attack her, or the signs of the Queen still breathing she would have every other time. She had been too damn weak, and now both of them were paying.

In her war to prove she could survive the vastness of space when other humans could not, she had lost, finally. The most potent moment of her life would now be kissing Barkuub's ridged forehead as he closed his eyes and his hearts stopped beating.

And now here she was.

Sitting in her good old scout ship that had saved her life countless times. The magnetic clamps she had been given by the Senate were attached to the human's vessel, as she pulled it along behind her. Barkuub's body sat on the small bed at the back of the ship's quarters, the greying light from black space lights gleaming in from the window, so that his once vibrant scales looked like hard granite slabs. To Atalanta, he looked like a fallen knight resting on his stone tomb.

For once, she was going to be heroic, even if she couldn't go back to the Senate and brag about it. Because if she had left the human vessel just floating there, it could have easily been picked up, brought to a planetary habitat and the infestation would spread. She may be a ruthless credit-hunting ex-outlaw, but she wasn't a murderer. She wouldn't let others pay for her failure.

And so, she was dragging the ship to sector 67000-'s infamous black hole, known as the gate stopper by the navy slang.

52 clicks from civilisation, from harm.

It was just her, the body of Barkuub in her scout ship she always refused to let go and a bunch of parasites that needed to be exterminated. And as they were pulled into the pupil of the black hole by the sudden surge and suck of momentum, Atalanta smiled, keeping her eyes open until the very last second, a burst of pain from the chest burster inside her squirming as if it knew of its doom as they ventured into its mouth.

She rubbed the writhing bump on her stomach, chuckling between her bloody coughs with victorious sarcasm. "Look who's winning, you bitch. I never leave a contract uncompleted."

Faint squealing came from her belly as she screamed, the pull of the black hole now affecting the chest burster's position behind her ribs. After a moment of catching her breath, she forced out more excruciating laughter just to spite the organism inside of her. "Ya' know, I think we need some music, huh?" she batted at the control panels, splattering the grime of hers and Barkuub's blood over them before the radio buzzed to life. The song playing brought a true laugh of joy out, as Within Temptation blasted out.

Atalanta smiled, her ship truly was a work of art, despite the number of times people told her to sell it for scrap. "It truly is my, last, solemn hour!" She shouted to the stars dramatically.

She clenched her hands on the accelerator bar and her seat, pretending the Barkuub was leaning against the back of her seat like he always did. His heavy smell still lingered with him, though clouded by the stagnant stench of his lifeless shell.

Atalanta's strong voice blasted through the ship as she felt the elating rush of pain, sorrow, joy and an odd sense of peace for sacrificing herself and her life's work that lay in her ship to save the neighbouring planets.

"Time keeps on slipping away and we haven't learned

So in the end now what have we gained?

Sanctus Espiritus, redeem us from our solemn hour

Sanctus Espiritus, insanity is all around us

Sanctus Espiritus, is this what we deserve?

Can we break free from chains of never ending agony?"

She sighed one last time before the black hole's compressing force overcame the movement of the Xeno youngling within her. Every sense she possessed exploded with the inferno of pressure, her wavering screams hidden by her ships own bending rip of metal. Moments later, the human's vessel and the danger on board it would be extinguished in a similar manner, and for that, she hoped that Barkuub and her could finally rest easily.

She never expected to achieve so much, and some how become something that could be called being a hero in the end.

And finally, she welcomed and embraced that her tumultuous life was now drawing to a halt.

It had escaped my mind that the extend of pain one would endure before finally dying in a black hole was debatable, considering that even to all the advanced alien races out there, no one really had a concrete answer to what happened when you went through one.

Whispers and legends, passed from one traveller to another orally, floated across the galaxy, some of gruesome hell realms, others of alternate dimensions. Occasionally you would meet a wacko claiming to have survived passing through one, but despite all the many theories, they were just that, with no ounce of fact to them. Some scientists were poking at the idea that different things happened to you depending on the black hole, but again, to the wider public the answer was 'who knows?'.

If I had considered it before hand, I would've probably gone with fading and choking on the utter darkness and void of the pupil of the black hole, leaving the cocoons of a conscious body with cloudiness similar to that of drowning. Having faced foes who favoured the art of ringing my neck or holding me underwater (though often it was some other planetary liquid equivalent that did the same job), I would have most likely gulped, rubbed my neck with a grimace and then proceed to spend a few more minutes re-talking myself into the idea of saving everyone in the nearby Sectors by sailing into the previously mentioned sure death named Gate Stopper.

I was sorely mistaken.

The main torture would be the lack of a concept of time. There was no way to measure how long each technique of anguish lasted, where they overlapped and melded together, which in itself produced a pure chill of sheer terror I had never experienced. Fuck, it was the sort that paralysed you one moment, then would send you into waves and waves of fits that merged together, to drive you into madness. Every sense I had, touch, hearing, sight, the lot were gone, only pain and the ramblings of my own mind left. Begging. Bargaining and praying to every deity I could think of, even if I still believed that all of them were non-existent.

A thousand life times past.

Memories swooped through me, blinding me with the ferocity of how fresh each one was. I relived my years again and again as it were the first time again, at the exact same pace. All the while, the excruciating pain lay like the parasite within me, sharing my very being. I found myself wishing that at least couldn't it be in sharp throbs instead of a constant flow, so that I would have a millisecond of relief to rest my hope upon. I lost my sanity, only to realise that there was always a little left to lose the next moment.

Some how I was aware that I no longer was one with my body, despite not having felt it since entering the eye of the Gate Stopper. The memories now stopped at the moment I wished they would be there so that I could feed upon my desire to go back, regret and delusions fuelling me.

If some one had told me to commit the worst crimes possible in exchange for stopping it all, I would have shamefully accepted without a doubt. What self-empowerment I had was gone and spat upon.

And then, like the specific point when one falls asleep, it stopped, and my body and I became one again. All senses back, I rubbed my arms as if it were giving me sensual pleasure at just knowing that they were mine again and wept as if I hadn't just been doing that for however long the torture had lasted. I even welcomed the soreness of my lost voice from all the screaming I had committed and yet not heard.

The beginning of the torture felt like it had been only seconds ago now, when in its process had felt endless.

And that's when the rich pigmented blurs of my vision sharpened in an instant, revealing what my fate was; everywhere, all that surrounded me were walls with no corners, indicating I was inside some sort of orb. They were a dark steely grey that were carved to a perfection that could never possibly be imagined without already being in ones own memory.

Bursts of lights of all shades assaulted my vision like overcharged LEDs. A case of tunnel vision and a throbbing in my head numbed me from really caring that there was no gravity whatsoever, and that I was in fact floating in the exact centre of the orb, rotated 360 degrees in all directions.

Shadows masked some areas for seconds, before fading into a glowing translucent film that revealed the familiar beauty of space outside.

And then two figures of humanoid metal appeared before me, the one to the left causing the walls to become see through with the intensity of the gold light that blasted out of him, while the other was cloaked in the shadows that he birthed.

The former was a mass of connecting and interlocking blue and white armour, with accents of gold that glowed and ran into the rest of the light emanating out of him. The darker one was of the same muscled build and structure, though stake like spikes grew from every large enough surface he possessed. This one was black, with rivers of red and slivers of gold seeping into the designs.

While one emitted an aura of purity and hope, sending me references of everything I viewed positively, the other was despair incarnate, suffocating me even with the idea that he would walk any closer.

Both were enormous, so much so that I couldn't look at either of them completely. Both were also covered in glowing runes and stood before me, a pair of blue and a pair of red lights that acted as their eyes watching me as if I was the most interesting thing that they had ever viewed.

On the precipices of my peripheral vision, glyphs of some ancient, unknown language flashed and danced through the air, serving to evaporate if I tried to focus on them.

And then they spoke. Two endless, rumbling voices that spoke my name in unison as I stood there dazed in awe and suddenly falling to my knees on an invisible floor that accompanied the return of gravity.

For the longest time, I revelled in just looking at them as they looked back. Even if the insolence of not praising them and making eye contact would serve to be my end, I just could not care enough to stop. I would happily die again just to keep this moment with me, I thought with a reverence I hadn't previously possessed.

The shadowed metal titan suddenly exhaled a long growl that shuddered in some condescending laugh, laced with derision. It made me want to curl up with frustrated horror and embarrassment.

However my frenzied thoughts suddenly halted from their negative turn as his purer counterpart spoke in a voice that halted the air in my throat.

"You are not dead, child."

I was rattled with confusion, and mouthed his words to myself. Not dead? If that endless torture of the black hole wouldn't kill me, did that mean I would have to go through it all again? I wetted my lips and pleaded him with my eyes. "What am I then?"

He hummed in thought, though it was the shadowed one that answered in a deeper, malicious voice that affected me in the same way, but for different reasons. "Passing through the void, as it were."

"Death will not meet you for a while yet, little one."

I furrowed my brows, sorting out my screaming thoughts, not fully noticing that they could hear every one of them as if I had spoken them out loud. "Wait…who are you?! And why am I here then? Why haven't I…you know…."

The gold one stepped forward with a serene smile. "To our people, I am known as Primus, the creator of our kind."

"And I," the darker one interjected with a twisted version of the same smile, "am Unicron, the destroyer of all."

"My twin and I have been in an endless battle, one that is infinite between good and evil-"

"-Weak and powerful-"

"-Purity and corruption." Primus finished with an ageless sorrow. "Upon the race that carries our blood, a great war ravages all, destroying their home planet Cybertron. This race, the Cybertronians, have been fighting for countless light-years, the peace they once lived in long forgotten. However, a possible end is now in sight."

Unicron snarled, the noise echoing around and making me fall back on to my elbows. I screamed and crawled away as he suddenly bent down, his face inches from mine and pinned me down with two dagger like fingers. Black fogs permeated the air and I started to feel light headed, any positive feelings seeming to get sucked out of me. "I desire the constant flow of spilling energon, to feed on the offlining sparks that the Great War has offered. Yet if it does not eventually produce a victor, every single Cybertronian will be dead, extinct. And what would be the point, with no more sparks to extinguish. Now little one, can you tell me?"

I tried to curl up on myself, causing Unicron to shake with sadistic laughter again, before all of a sudden, he was gone and I was being lifted in Primus's palm, in between the twin deities. "Atalanta." They both said together, their voices merged in harmony.

"While Unicron desires the end of the war so as to prolong the suffering of our race in a more …natural occurrence, I would like it to bring peace to the Cybertronians once more. We have been fighting since the dawn of consciousness, maintaining the balance of our existence, and yet here we are before you, united in our desires." Primus said.

I pressed my palms into his own, my fingers lost in a large gap in his armour. When I look up at his burning blue eyes, my mind seems to clear, and suddenly all my instinctual spirit returns to me. "Like yin and yang?" I'm mortified when both of them pause, before whirring in amusement, though Unicron's was darker and foreboding.

"Yes. Exact opposites that form a whole. Every being under our reign is filled with the both of us, though one is usually stronger than the other." Primus confirms.

"Usually, an organic would not be of importance to us, especially of as weak a species as yours."

"Yet we have spoken with the ruling power of your people, to gain you in an exchange. You are to become one with us, as all our other child are. Your ties with your kind have always been weak, and you comprehend many things that exceeds their minds."

"It was agreed that you would be whole as one of the Cybertronians, than a whisper of a human. Your…heroic ending has come to serve as a gateway to your new beginning."

After gaping like a fish again, I answered. "S-so…wait, let me just clarify." They both looked amused yet again, but humoured me. "You're both ruling gods over a race that I'm guessing are mechanical beings like yourself, and want an end to a really long war they've been having. And…you've bargained with the god that looks after my…the human race so that you can-"

"Cease your ramblings, organic!" Unicron roared, pulling another scream from me. I was cupped from view by Primus's other hand as I heard them angrily converse in a buzzing, machine like language of whirls and clicks, rumbles and wisps of venting air. Eventually, silence reigned again, and Primus's second hand left so that I could see again. The red glow from Unicron was pulsing angrily, though he was a lot calmer now.

Primus cupped me slightly in his palm so that I would look up at him. Once I had, he motioned for me to continue. I did so, my voice echoing loudly. "So does every race have an assigned deity? Which one's the human one?"

He shook his head; "We all have our realms and limits to our power, yes. Though I am afraid that you cannot know any more. The works of higher beings are not to be known by mortals. We are there to maintain the balance, not to reveal the secrets of the cosmos."

Suddenly irritation flashed through me. "Because I cannot comprehend it?"

Unicron answers for me. "Yes."

The bluntness of his answer seems to catch the question "why?" from me, even though I still desperately want to answer it. Instead, I turn myself back to Primus, who speaks again.

"You no longer are under the human deity, that is all that matters now. Your passing through the black hole has let you arrive in our plane, where the Cybertronians exist, unlike your own."

"Like another dimension."

"More or less." His eyes twinkle with soft humour at my huff as I cross my arms. "You shall inhabit a new life and a new body. We have chosen you to change the outcome of this war, though how, will depend on your actions."

"You are the Shaper, the one who will the mould the path the Cybertronian race shall follow." Unicron finished.

I mulled over the information they had thrown at me. To be given the power to change a war? What, was I going to get a magic sword or something?

Unicron chuckled darkly, as I remembered that they could hear all that passed through my brain. "The only thing you will rely upon is yourself, Shaper. Unfortunately, we cannot take away your free will. Nor that of the vermin that resides in you."

A chill grips me. The Xeno that I was impregnated with is still there?

Primus quickly stepped in, scowling at Unicron who looked delighted to have freaked me out yet again. "Little one, the organic inside of you has gone without spark for too long; it was weaker than you, in both mind and its underdeveloped body. The Xenomorphs are of one mind, linked to that of a Queen, who holds telepathic rule over her hive. Its spark was already weak for its lack of a individual personality." He sighed, indicating the telling of news that I would most likely not be happy about. "However, when passing through to this plane, what was left of its energy merged with yours."

Horror gripped me; after everything the monster has done, it's fucking followed me? Piggy backing in my body? Would I have a split personality? Would I start laying eggs ohshitohshitoh-

"SILENCE!" Unicron roared, "Enough of your useless rabbling! They're giving my processor a headache!"

"Calm down, Atalanta." Primus murmured, "The Xenomorph's consciousness is long gone. What is left of its spark, its very being is merely the energy that acted as it's coding. Your mind is the only one within you."

I let out relieved sigh. While I didn't understand some of the words they used, I could understand that it was still just me, with no Mr Hyde. "What do you mean by spark, and coding? Oh, and what's a processor?"

Unicron rolls his eyes with mockery, landing them on Primus in a way that said 'I'm not handling this one'. Primus didn't show any indication of resentment, and continued on with what I assumed was ever lasting patience. Hell, if anyone possessed that, this guy, errr…god would.

"The easiest way would be to compare to what you can relate to. A spark is similar to a heart; however it is also our very being, housing our emotions and personality. It is directly connected to our main processor, or our brain. For Cybertronians, the merging of two sparks can form a spark bond, and also a new spark can be created, similar to that of a baby, though we call it sparkling. Here the coding of the two creators, similar to that of DNA, combines for the sparkling's coding. The All Spark was another way of creating new life, however…"

Unicron gave a sickening smile, interrupting again. "Primus's little present to the Cybertronians is damaged and was shattered in this war. It is practically useless now."

I looked back at Primus for confirmation, who nodded his head. He had the face of one who was remembering the loss of a dear friend. "Another result of war. Yet the Matrix of Leadership remains whole. It is the sibling of the All Spark, it's purpose to reveal the new Prime when one is called for. The twelve original Primes were the first Cybertronians the All Spark created. The living Optimus Prime is leader of the Autobots and current holder of the Matrix of Leadership."

And so Primus continued on in what was a lengthy yet engaging retelling of all there was to the Great War, with Unicron throwing in his evil input here and there. He seemed especially triumphant when the corruption of the Fallen was mentioned, and how he mentored Megatron. But it was short lived as Primus went onto describe the war's events on dear old Earth, including how Megatron's Decepticons had been beaten twice by the Autobots (with numbers against the latter) with the help of humans. The death of the Fallen by Optimus Prime's hand after he was revived seemed to sting Unicron badly.

So much information was given; it felt like they were telling me a bedtime story. Yet I knew it was all too real. And soon, Primus fell into silence, as Unicron said in his deep drumming voice, "It is time. She knows all she needs to."

Primus hummed in agreement, before setting me down where I had been before. They both walked back a little, inviting me to ask anything else. "Wait!" I cried, "You said that the Xenomorph would effect my coding- as in I'll be a robot Xeno?"

"Femme or mech, little one. Robot suggests we are not sentient. Your blend of coding will result in a unique frame, yes, though your own natural coding is still dominant."

That was comforting at least, I thought. But one last thing still weighed heavily on my mind. I still need to spit it out, to face my future with one last thing set straight. I looked up at both of them, fighting the urge to break eye contact and give up my ground as I squared my shoulders with confidence I hadn't felt since I started my last mission with Barkuub.

"I'm not sure you would give me a choice in the matter, but either way, I accept. You said that I would affect the outcome of the Cybertronians. You're right, I never felt connected to humanity, so I think I'll be happy being part of your creation's race." I paused, licking my lips, before starting again with resolve in my voice. "But I want to keep my memories. They are what makes me who I am. I've been through shit and I've seen things that I want to remember for the rest of my new life. I understand that both of you want me to affect the war in different ways. If you dropped me off as a blank slate, you would fight to change me for your advantage, and that's a violation of my own free will. That's all I ask. To be exactly as I am now, in my soul- no spark, just with a new shiny metal shell as my body. I want to be me. Not some parallel knock off, you understand?"

They both paused, looking very surprised, and shared a long look with each other. This in itself was chilling, and made me think that they were planning to do just what I was demanding they didn't do. Finally, Primus looked back at with a beautiful, literally glowing smile. "We accept, little one. End this war, and we will meet again when all are one." The translucent walls around him hardened back to their slate grey metal as he disappeared in tandem.

And then it was just Unicron and I. I started to panic a bit at the deep glare he sent my way, before he barked a laugh so strong it made me fall over yet again. However this time the invisible floor was gone, and I was back to floating with a lack of gravity in the centre of the orb. The shadows surrounding Unicron dance across the air as he answers.

"You certainly do not belong in the world of humanity; ferocity will be your weapon, and your will your shield, Shaper. It will be interesting to follow your time as a Cybertronian."

And then he too was gone, taking away his shadows as if they were being sucked in by a plughole. The glyphs that had been prancing the entire time grew in fierceness, becoming more daring as they ventured from the corners of my eyes to everywhere at once, numerous flashes of coloured lights, whirling together. I'm blinded by their spectrums merging together in the uniting blend of sheer whiteness, and then, I know now more.

Sooooo, that's the idea for a transformer's fic I had rattling in my brain. The protagonist has been in various scenarios for TF stories I've been have, and it was driving me crazy. The cover photo for this story is what her Cybertronian form will look like, but if you don't want to know just yet, don't worry, in the next update she will be a Cyber.

Please tell me whatcha think!

Thank you,

Renzin xo