This is a collection of all my stories with Mute Spark, my OC in the Autobot Club on deviantART. My username there is FuzzySlipper, and you can find it by clicking my homepage link in my profile. Anyhoo, feel free to ask whatever questions you can think of. I never bother putting a disclaimer because, let's face it . . . We ALL know none of us own Transformers! All characters except canon characters and those otherwise specified are owned by me. I'll let you know who's whose at the end. One final note, this is set in a sort of AU future G1. Bear in mind, I have not seen much of it. Please tell me if I make a mistake, but otherwise, for all intents and purposes, the whole thing is AU. With that said, enjoy!

Mute Spark:

The Beginning

By Falcon's Hyperdrive

A.k.a. FuzzySlipper

Begun 3-18-10

Finished 4-12-10

Part One

Space was a vast expanse, appropriately called a void. Planets were far between, and not all of them could sustain organic life.

This life, however, was not organic.

Mechs and femmes bustled about on the bridge of the Autobot ship, the Celestial, as it powered through the star-specked darkness. They were hard at work, communications officers monitoring for communiques between Decepticons, tactical checking up on weapons systems, and the captain deep in a discussion with his first officer.

One of the mechs monitoring the radio waves sat up quickly, alerting everyone to a change. "I've got something!" he shouted toward the captain.

Recount moved quickly despite his large, thirty-five foot form, and was soon leaning over the comm officer's shoulder to peer at the display. "Talk to me."

The officer nodded. "Decepticon activity in grid C-9 of this sector. It's coming from an outpost on a moon orbiting a gas planet."

Recount's optics narrowed. "Gamma Base? Those were neutrals. Primus, I dread to see what's happened . . . Helm! Set a course for grid C-9, destination Gamma Base outpost."

"Sir!"

Recount clapped the comm officer on the shoulder. "Good work, Blitz. Let me know if you find anything else."

...

Caution was employed heavily as the Celestial approached the moon from the opposite side as the outpost. There were five Decepticons, a token force, but it would still do well to take them off guard. Based on the destruction the ship was already detecting, the Decepticons deserved no less than to share that fate.

Recount was quick to devise a strategy with his tacticians. Their small Special Operations Unit would head in, taking the trash out quick and clean. A mech named Swift was in charge of the operation, heading up the two groups of three. He and his soldiers were to sweep the outpost for salvageable parts afterwards, reporting to the Celestial when they found any. After that, the warriors and the engineers would move in.

Recount took in the sight of the six SpecOps as they stood there at attention, evaluating their track record in a moment. The first in line was short Swift, a fast little mech who could get in and out of a hideout in the beat of a spark. Next was Overcast, storm gray and tall, one of the sneakiest mechs Recount had ever met. Stopper, average height, bulky but silent. In the next squad, tall, slender Shadowblade, expert at infiltration, sabotage, and assassination. His subordinates were Backdraft, average-sized and deadly, and his younger brother, small and speedy Punisher. They were all excellent soldiers, good at what they did. Together, they were the entire Special Operations Unit, a pretty good number actually for the ship's size and crew compliment.

The captain stopped before them, watching as they stood at stiff order. Nodding in satisfaction, he smiled grimly. "Do you all understand your orders, mechs?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" came the resounding call from the SpecOps.

"Good. Go get them."

...

Without mercy.

That was how the Decepticons were dealt with, slaughtered from behind before they knew what hit them. The leader went first, a cocky mech preening in front of a mirror. The look of shock on his face was priceless as Shadowblade drove his energon sword into his spark.

The others soon followed. The second Con fell to the practiced hand of Stopper, the third to Overcast. The fourth fell to Backdraft and Punisher together, teaming up for the kill. The final one went to Swift, offline in a moment. The bodies piled together to salvage parts from, the SpecOps spread out, searching the shells that used to be homes and a laboratory.

It was here, in the last place, that Shadowblade found her.

...

Shadowblade sighed heavily, venting harshly in the slight atmosphere. "You guys found anything yet?"

"Nah," answered Backdraft, completely bored. "It's all rubble. Ooh, look it! I found an empty cube!"

Shadowblade snickered appreciatively at his friend's sarcasm. "I'm surprised the Cons didn't take that, too. Probably would've held energon all right."

"Should I add it to the pile, then?"

Shadowblade snorted. "Ask Captain Recount. Heads up, I'm heading into the lab."

"Gotcha. Careful in there, now. Wouldn't want Flareup after my skin for letting you die on my watch."

"Oh, no, of course not," the saboteur chuckled. "All right, I'm going in."

"Copy that."

Carefully, slowly, Shadowblade eased himself through the half-blocked doorway. A support beam had crashed down in front of it, and now rested at an angle that covered the top portion of the door. Being as agile as he was, the gray-colored mech was able to duck underneath the beam.

Shadowblade got on the comm again, signaling Recount. "Got some good metal, here, in the lab. Support beam, decent quality. I'm going to check out the rest of the building for other stuff before we consider bringing the place down."

"Copy that, Shadowblade. Watch out for falling rubble."

"Got it. Shadowblade out."

His next obstacle was a pile of the very rubble he was warned about, the way it had settled hinting that it had been there a while. He climbed over it, skillfully avoiding sending any pebbles rolling. Swift and silent, he was, a veritable ninja.

Okay, maybe not.

He came to a stop on the other side, wary blue optics watching for any sign of danger. A sound, miniscule in volume, came from the left, and he spun, plasma pistol in hand and aimed.

His CPU froze at what he saw, not quite comprehending what he was seeing. "Holy Primus . . ."

"Shadowblade? What is it?"

Shadowblade got into gear, stowing his pistol and raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "Celestial, get the Med Bay prepped, double time. Easy, little one . . . I'm an Autobot. I'm here to help."

The youngling cowered back further in its corner, not even uttering a peep. In response, Shadowblade knelt and held out his hands in a "come to me" gesture, smiling softly. It tilted its head, regarding him, the yellow optics of a neutral shining dully in the darkness. Finally, after a long, tense moment, it reached out, crawling forward slightly.

Shadowblade moved quickly to pick the youngling up, cradling it against his chassis. It panicked for a moment, but he stroked the weakened youngling's helm soothingly. "Shh. It's all right. My sparkmate's a medic. She'll fix you right up, get you good and healthy again. You don't have to be alone anymore, or hide in rubble. You're safe, now."

His words combined with the calming touch caused the little bot to relax, shivering slightly in a release of tension. Carefully, slowly, Shadowblade started back over the rock pile. The roof creaked ominously, signaling its intent, and the youngling snuggled closer in its fear. Shadowblade held it close, and dared to move a little faster. Rocks skittered down the mound, and then he was over the peak. He stumbled slightly in his hurry down, an avalanche of pebbles preceding him. The ceiling groaned again, fractures appearing in the rugged surface, and he sped up even more. He had to get out of there before the whole thing crashed down upon them.

At last, the roof could take no more. Huge chunks of rock broke free, and he dove through the hole just in time to avoid a hunk of rubble coming down right where he had been. A plume of dust followed him and the youngling out, and he slid a few yards on his back upon landing as he turned in the air, the gravel digging mercilessly at his gray paint job. He was quite willing to sacrifice that, however, as the youngling curled up soundlessly in his protecting arms.

His teammates came running. "Blade!" Swift shouted, heading up the group rushing to him. "Shadowblade! You okay?"

Shadowblade struggled to his feet, groaning. "Yeah, I'm fine. You guys work on getting that support beam right there. I'm taking this little one back to the Celestial."

"What-" Swift stopped himself, finally seeing the youngling in his arms, and the two squads gasped in amazement. "That's a youngling!"

"Yeah, no freakin' dur. Permission to go, sir?"

Swift nodded quickly. "Hurry, soldier. I'll let the Celestial know you're on the way with precious cargo."

Shadowblade grinned, and looked tenderly at the small black bot in his arms. "Precious," he murmured. It looked up at him, and he beamed. "Hold on tight, little one," he advised. "And bid this rock goodbye."

...

Flareup stroked the little one's scuffed black helm soothingly, smiling gently as the small being recharged. Her red and white armor was in stark contrast with Shadowblade's dirty gray as he held her in his arms, relief evident in his stance. The youngling was going to survive, and they were alive after that close call leaving the lab. The others in the unit had also come back to the ship, leaving the warriors and engineers to work on getting the support beam out of the collapsed laboratory. The other medics had long since gone to scavenge what they could from the dead Decepticons, leaving the bonded pair alone with the little bot who had everyone astir.

Flareup sighed in contentment. "It's a she, by the way."

Her bonded gave a little start. "A femme? Wow."

She nodded. "We're going to have to start working on a frame for her. By my estimate, we'll need it within the next fifty orns or so. Her spark's nearly mature, even if she quite isn't."

Shadowblade regarded the femme youngling sadly. "She was alone in that place for who knows how long. And remember, she has no memory of anything before the attack. She's bound to revert to youngling behavior even in her third frame."

Flareup nodded. "And she still refuses to utter any sound whatsoever. It will take many, many orns for her to grow out of that."

The mech nodded into her shoulder. "It will be hardwired into her CPU by now. She couldn't afford to make a sound on that outpost, where a Decepticon would have heard it and have killed her."

"Well, at the very least, she can communicate with her comm link, so she's not quite voiceless. And should she ever choose to speak again, she has that option. Has the captain said anything about what he wants to do, yet?"

Shadowblade nodded. "We're going to keep her aboard. He's asking for volunteers to take her in as a surrogate daughter."

Flareup grinned. "And what do you say to that?"

Shadowblade kissed the back of her helm. "I was waiting for you to say what you wanted. If you want us to become her guardians, I am all for it. What would you like to name her?"

The head medic stroked the youngling's helm again. "Mute Spark," she decided. "We can call her Spark for short."

Her bonded nodded happily. "I like it. When she wakes up, we'll ask her about it."

Flareup leaned closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder. "Sounds like a plan."

Shadowblade smiled. =Captain, sir, Flareup and I would like to volunteer to be the youngling femme's guardians.=

=Application approved, soldier. And, might I say . . . Good luck.=

Shadowblade snorted. Good luck, indeed.

Orn=13 days

1 year=28.079 orns

..

Recount named by fellow devaintART member AznLi

Flareup is my own character. She is not Flare Up, and I'm not even entirely sure who that is. :-P