Is it just me... or do those Image Verification things get harder and harder to read? O.o It's not longer a question of "Are you Human" but "How well can you interpret these random squiggle thingies." -_-' Elita1Bashers here... and welcome to the joint account of me, MarySueDevourer and JazzylovesTransformers! Mainly because there was disagreement about who got the collaborations posted up on their Profiles. :P Soooooo, enjoy! ^.^ Reviews are luff, people. Soft, cottony love. And they make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. :D
There will be Romance! *GASP* Or mentions of it, anyway. And yes, I'm Jazzy (the one who secretly doubts this will get many views). Also, yes... you can be guranteed some Megatron/OC and Starscream/OC in here... somewhere... maybe more obvious at the end. Possibly even Optimus/OC. As well as a couple of others. Soundwave and Shockwave as well, maybe. Some of us just can't keep our paws off them. But other than that, this follows the trail of a couple of OCs of ours who live seperate lives. Enjoy I guess. The A/N is too long. Sorry. Don't read it. It's all useless anyway.
Disclaimer: Transformers doesn't belong to a single one of us.
Things hadn't been easy since the fall of Megatron and, resultingly, the undoing of the Decepticon forces.
Leaderless and lacking any others who could be trusted to take charge, the Autobot's remaining rivals were easy to overcome, yes. But those who had aligned themselves with Optimus Prime did not cherish such pointless Energonshed, and as the war turned into something more akin to mass genocide, those heroes amongst the stars began to take a different approach; one that did not indulge such sparkless slaughter of their own species. Taking prisoners certainly was no easy task, and it was also a risky one at that. Few Decepticons were willing to surrender despite the hopelessness of their situation, and fewer still would not accept the act of kindness and continuially put up a fight, even after it became evident that the Autobots intended no harm to befall them.
Being as cut off as he was, it was difficult indeed for Optimus Prime to know of these going ons, although like all things word did reach him... eventually. Far too late for him to advise them on the best course of action, the Matrix-bearer instructed all surviving Autobots to undergo a different task: the rebuilding and reviving of Cybertron. For, despite the beliefs of some, Prime was no fool. Despite all that they had done for human kind, the Transformers were no more welcome on the planet Earth than they had been the first moment they'd touched down, and had been confronted with Sector Seven. Furthermore, he was well aware that his fellow Autobots hated it. No matter the close relationships they had formed with the organics that inhabited the rock, he saw in them the same longing he felt: the desire to go home. His real home, mind you, not this foreign place that he had attempted to replace it with. Not that anything could replace Cybertron: of that, he was certain.
It took many years and lifetimes... human lifetimes, mind you... but eventually their abandoned and dead planet was well on the way to being repaired and revitalised. The news spread fast throughout the ranks, and the glee radiated from the Autobots was almost tangible. Here, for the first time in what felt like millions of years, was their first sign of hope that they could return to their planet of Cybertron... without bringing harm to planets such as Earth, as the Autobots had so strived to avoid allowing the Decepticons to do. But whilst this news had been good, it was slightly darkened by a large number of Decepticon energy signatures popping up on the same day- somewhere in Nambia, Africa. A trip there by the Earth-bound Autobots, who had been heavily armed and ready for battle, only revealed a surprising new discovery: Decepticon hatchlings, who were maturing fast. Not even the American government could condone the killing of such innocent creatures, particularly once they had been assured that the proper upbringing would ensure that no Megatron would rise out of their ranks. More centuries passed, this time marked by the growing of the hatchlings as well as the steady progress of Cybertron being repaired.
Eventually, the day did come when the Autobots on Earth, accompanied by their now fully-grown hatchlings turned adults, could return to their beloved home. The younger ones- those of Decepticon blood- were enthused at the thought of the field trip. For a long time their processors had been filled with images and stories of Cybertron and what it had once been. The sense of accomplishment at finally being able to visit the place where they had descended from was a thrilling thought indeed, although the life of growing up amongst humans was a hard one to leave behind; more so than it was for the older Autobots, who had been there to experience the war against the might of Decepticons. Deeper connections had been forged with the squishy ones, and the former Decepticons had been reluctant to leave their old friends, parting with the promise that one day they would return... a promise that they knew they would never end up fulfilling.
Yet even though the cries of victory upon Cybertron had been great as the last remaining Autobots touched down on their newly-reformed planet, heralding the beginning of a new era, there was still one underlying problem that weighed upon the spark and processor of their revered leader, Optimus Prime.
What he was going to do with the stubborn Decepticon survivors.
Stacks upon stacks of datapads were piled high upon the Transformer's desk, each bearing information just as valuable as the next. In one hand she held a cube of Energon: mid-grade, and nothing special, such was the norm for the young femme. In the other sat one of many datapads, though she was not looking directly at it, gaze more intent on two that were laid across the desk before her. The room was lit just enough so that she could read it's contents, but no more, causing great long shadows to be cast along the walls of the small room. She had almost forgotten why she hated working so much. It deprived her of a social life, forbid her any contact with the outside world. How long had it been since she'd had a mech to hold her, wrap her in his arms and name her "Mine"?
Of course, it wasn't by choice that she was so absorbed in her work. Her boss had called for absolute attentiveness, particularly from the likes of her. Had she not been warned about Transformers taking advantage of her nature, though? Her inability to say no to those she knew, for fear of severing ties and being left alone, even if that relationship was as simple as a boss and worker one? So much for the great Optimus Prime checking up on them. He'd been quick to forget the moment he'd returned to the home planet he so fondly thought of, and since had little time for those outside his duty. She couldn't really complain; afterall, was she any better? When was the last time she contacted any of her many brothers and sisters, check on them, see how their lives were going and have a small chat? It had been quite awhile, she could tell anyone that. She honestly could not remember the last time she had contacted them, or them her.
The femme rubbed at her processor tiredly, optics glazing over as she fought off the need for recharge that had been hounding her relentlessy for most of the night.
To be honest, the thought of recharge did not appeal to her; not at that very moment, even though she knew she needed it. Under all the stress that she was, how could it even be possible for her to catch a minute of rest anyway? Nervous apprehension had a deathly cold grip on her spark, keeping her from doing much else other than work to try and soothe her frayed nerves. The more information she knew of them, the better, right? It would be good if she didn't have to constantly consult their files... but there was just so much of it! How was she meant to have learned this, in just a couple of nights? She only remembered scraps of information here and there, such as the fact that her first patient was slightly insane, and that it would be wise to mentally brace herself before entering the room. The second was pretty quiet and sensitive (a persona she found rather strange, considering just who this asylum housed), and the last was even more stubborn than most, which she was sure was going to prove to be fun. Please, someone tell her how that was going to help her at all?
With a frustrated sigh, the femme slammed the datapad she'd been holding back into a random pile, picking up another one as she went. Oh this was going to be a fail of epic proportions. All of the datapads held next to no information at all, and most of it was just repeating what another had said, but in different words. Primus these people must have sucked at their jobs. It was like ever since the war had ended and Cybertron had been rebuilt, everyone had deemed it OK to start slacking off... particularly those in the higher rankings/castes. Honestly, it did nothing but create more work for those stuck on the lower levels. She would say she hated them for it, but she was too accustomed to it, and thought of it merely as an inconvenience. Perhaps it was just as Cybertron had always been run. A fool would believe the stories of just how "Golden" the Golden Age had been before the war. Obviously there was always going to be something wrong. Nothing was perfect.
Maybe there had even been a palpable reason for the war as well. One that she wasn't aware of. Maybe this feared Megatron had been in the right afterall, and history had merely been rewritten to the liking of Optimus Prime. Afterall, they spoke of how even the great Sentinel Prime had joined forces with Megatron over that of Optimus. Could that be a hint that not everything was as it seemed?
No, stop... stop! she mentally snarled, whacking a hand against her forehead for emphasis, as if this would somehow discipline her processor into behaving. She couldn't do this. Not now; opening up such thoughts left her open to doubt, and that would do her no good... especially considering the struggle ahead that awaited her.
It was all hopeless, of course (she'd already established she wasn't going to remember any of this by the morning), and all it was going to acheive was her being overly tired and unfit for work the next morning. Primus, she was going to be in a grump. Why had they chosen the last minute to give her all these datapads, when they could have handed them over days beforehand? Fragging Cybertron and it's fragging lazy inhabitants, leaving all the hard work to it's underlings. If she lacked common sense and it didn't gurantee her a jobless life on the streets, she would've gone up and given her superiors a peice of her mind. Chances were they'd just send her on a wild goose chase, as the humans called it, searching for those responsible... which would result in a waste of energy, no answers, and them purposely making her life ten times harder from there on out just out of spite.
Whoever held illusions of it being a great and fair Cybertron under Optimus Prime's rule, were sadly mistaken. As far as she could gather, it was no better than before. Possibly even slightly worse. She had heard rumours of Megatron offering Prime a truce once or twice and, though she wasn't entirely sure whether or not these were true, she had to wonder... would it have been that bad to accept? By the end of it, it only sounded like Megatron had wanted to rebuild Cybertron to help his species... what Optimus had done, on three occasions, had very nearly ensured their extinction. It was something everyone seemed to conveniently ignore when praising the "high and mighty" Optimus Prime; the last Prime known in existence.
Her head literally met the desk in a sign of exasperation as she realised her thoughts were wandering yet again, her lack of focus a sure sign that her body was yearning for some kind of rest. Could a little bit of recharge really hurt that much? Surely she didn't have to learn all of this in only one night: there would be plenty of days afterwards where she could look over them again. Just because she wanted to be prepared for their first meetings...
No. No, she did have to do this. Otherwise she would make a complete fool of herself the next day, and it would be but another experience to add on to her growing list of "Things I Would Rather Forget." First impressions were everything; she knew that. She'd been judged on people's first impression of her for quite some time, before they'd slowly warmed up to her. Whether she liked it or not, this was a must. It might not be what she wanted, but it was what she needed, and that was all that really mattered.
This was going to be a long night, she realised. With an audible sigh she rose from her desk, but only to grab a cube of Energon before she sat back down again. There was still an awful lot of work to revise.
You will see some familiar names, because some of these stories were originally built in our minds using our own OCs. My apologies for the excessive ranting and raving of JazzylovesTransformers and Elita1Bashers above. I will have them shorten it in future.
~MarySueDevourer xx