Chapter I
. . .
I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning, I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own.
-Coldplay, "Viva La Vida"
. . .
"Hey, can you get these shackles off me? I'm starting to chafe."
"No."
"Why not? I'm not going to escape, I promise. Seriously. I just need the wrist ones off."
["No. Will you give your statement on these recent events?"]
"Please? I have sensitive wrists!"
["Will you just get your statement down for the record?"]
"You wouldn't ever believe me."
["While that may be true, but we just need your side to get the whole story and see if it matches with the other...dozen."]
"Wow, really? That many?"
["Will you begin please?"]
"Oh, fine."
["Thank you. Recording has already begun."]
. . .
"Let's see...it all started the day I met a new kid. I was the star pupil, hehe, in my class at the academy, so I, of course, was chosen to be his guide for a couple days until he got the swing of things.
"Little did I know. I knew the kid had a shady past with, like, three other schools he'd been expelled from, but I didn't know why. Some of the rumors were that he'd kidnapped and experimented on his enemies, whoever they were, set a guy on fire and maybe killed him, et cetera.
"The stories got more ridiculous with every retelling, but I chose not to judge until I met him. He was pretty nervous at first, but turned out to be pretty cool for about a week.
"Then I got invited to his housing unit. Naively, I said yes, not really expecting anything major from what he'd commented or said or whatever because, really and truly, from most angles, he was, in every sense of the word, a NORMAL bot. He didn't consume anything except plain medium grade Energon, which is strange, like, really strange, for a bot his age, but otherwise pretty normal.
"He didn't have parents. Or siblings. Or even a housing unit. Pretty funny, actually, I'm kinda ashamed to tell you this...he had a lab. I didn't realize what it was until I walked into his...specimen closet. Seriously. There were some organic bone things in there that need to be destroyed and never mentioned anywhere ever again.
"I never suspected a thing following him. 'Yeah, sure, I've got some snacks and Energon bars to tide you over until dinner. they're in here.' So I did. And the first thing he did was sneak up from behind the doorway and stick me with a tranquilizer shot once I walked in like the dunce I was. I, of course, blacked out, right after completely freaking out and almost having a spark attack.
"Woke up on an examining table. Friggin' bot had tied me down. There was even a strap on my forehead. What kind of a bot does that? Not just the forehead strap thing, but the whole 'inviting me over to his house to see his gladiator card collection, then knocking me out and experimenting on me' thing.
"I was not happy. I was not comfortable. I was very annoyed and I was probably going to be grounded, had I gone home right that second because it was after my curfew- another reason to be irritated.
"The bot walks in a couple minutes after I wake up and starts yelling...things. Has an annoying grin on his face. You know, that kind that makes you want to punch a bot in the face. Even if it's your best friend.
"Well, anyway, I don't remember what all he said. Should have. The bits I do remember, he was going on about switching sparks or something and a whole bunch of scientific shag that they'd never be able to pin on him because he was now me and I'd be him.
"This was totally creepy. I mean, I just found out that this guy, who was supposed to be really cool and quiet and actually pretty funny was actually none of the above.
. . .
In less time than it took to say it, Moonlight was reliving those last precious moments in his own body, with his own spark in his chest.
Looking at the bones of some deceased techno-organic creature he dimly remembered was called a...predacon? Yeah. Something like that.
There were several specimens floating inside jars filled with a slight green luminescent fluid. They ranged from a bit longer than the length of his arm to the width of a finger.
The laboratory was filled with bits and pieces, organic and technic, rarely anything Moonlight recognized.
It disgusted him. It sickened him quite literally. His tanks began to turn and demand to be freed of the burden of its contents.
His gag reflex had almost succeeded in doing its job had he not tried to turn around with a hand over a horrified expression. The needle jabbed into a main Energon artery, instantly spreading to his central processing unit and causing a full system shut down.
. . .
"Then he put this helmet on me, went outta my range of sight, pushed a couple of buttons and blackout. Couldn't see a thing. Not gonna lie, I was fraggin' scared. I felt like I was being sucked out of my own body. Little did I know.
"I black out for a while, I don't know how long. The next thing I know, my chest feels rearranged, I'm in a totally different room, being interrogated by the PSP in some government building."
. . .
"How did you manage to get inside?"
"'Ow'd ya leave no cybernetic fingerprints in the system?"
"What could possibly be your motive for killing this many innocent Cybertronians, kidnapping and framing a cadet still in a private academy, then attempting to self-destruct?"
By about the third question he understood, Moonlight had a pretty good idea of what "he'd" done and who this cadet was.
The two officers, as soon as he'd regained consciousness (a couple of minutes ago), began bombarding him with questions nonstop, never giving him a chance to explain that there a had been a mistake, that he wasn't the one who'd done the things they were insinuating.
Seriously, he could not help but be reminded of the time he got blamed (this really was partly his fault) for spiking the lunchtime Energon supply at the school. (He had only supplied the passcode to get into the closet.)
Then the spark attack started, just pressure in his chest, which grew into a throbbing pain. It was like everything else took a backseat and slowly, he went deaf, silence smothering everything except the ever-growing spark pain.
"'Ey, what's 'e doin'?" The police femme started backtracking and starting to put together what was going on.
Moonlight couldn't hear the question, only knowing she asked because her mouth moved.
The police mech realized there was a problem when their prisoner went unconscious again and his spark chamber began visibly overheating.
A megacycle later, Moonlight woke. Again. In restraints. Before his sight came back, his hearing did and what was said didn't sound good.
A doctor. "...rejecting his own spark. In my professional opinion, I'd give him a daily immunosuppressant or a steroid and a couple megacycles. Personally, I didn't think he was going to make it through yesterday. It's quite amazing that he isn't offline right now. Since he's a prisoner of the state, I can't do anything without the permission of a captain. With that said..."
He passed out again.
. . .
"Being interrogated isn't much fun." Pause. "Anywho, the hospital was a bit better, but, you know, I had to get into a position to prove my own innocence, so I used my newfound cleverness-"
["'Newfound cleverness?' You never mentioned any side effects."]
"I didn't? I could have sworn I did. Well. Side effects of a body-spark switch: slightly morphed or replace memories, nausea, a damaged reputation, slight personality twist, and, depending on the switchers, spark attacks and maybe death, but not from the spark attacks. Usually, it's the guy you switched with, seeing as this really doesn't happen often.
"Satisfied?"
["Hardly. Continue."]
"I was now a pretty smart youngling. Believe me, I would have enjoyed it more if I'd have known these things in high school. Actually, I think I would have been kicked out of high school if I'd have known these things. But I digress.
"I escaped and, after a look at my medical sheet, stole some drugs and hit the road.
"I was confused. I had no idea who I was, where on Cybertron I could be, and I was still adjusting to what that nutcase did to me and myself.
"I found an abandoned building, set for demolition in a couple of cycles. I was seriously out of it for a few days. My CPU was near-fried. Looking back, it was all blurry, but clear at the same time. I mentioned the new knowledge? It was like there was a new part of my mind and it was trying to tell me what exactly was going on and I refused to listen. It's hard to explain what exactly I felt, but it was almost like a human being turned into a Cybertronian. They aren't used to the information overload and, well, die.
"Yes, it was almost like the Oxford experiments.
"I 'set up shop,' so to speak. I had a few credits. I bought a used datapad, rewrote the coding on it, and started searching. For myself. For a way to change back. Needless to say, the guy's notes weren't exactly on a blog post, so I never found anything without hacking a couple accounts. Even then, the most I found was that a body and spark switch was still theoretical.
"Then came time to change my hiding place. You know, throughout this, I'd had to develop a way to control the spark attacks, avoid the authorities, and steal energy for the sole purpose of not dying.
"You can imagine how hard this was."
. . .
Look natural. Look up, then away. It's none of your business who they're after, he told himself, trying to believe the blatant lie.
In reality, his life depended on it, because he was the one they were after.
Moonlight let this settle in while he looked up, pretending to be hurrying to...something. Just anything a regular civilian would do.
Primus, he wished he was normal again.
. . .
"So, I really didn't know what to do next. Go to my creators? Ah, no. They'd never believe me over their technological son. Not the police, for obvious reasons. And you can't just walk up to a random civilian and bring them into a weird situation like this.
"But, you know, that was before I was ratted out by some kids that happened to see my new face all over the news the cycle before.
"The government needs to really work with its youth. Do you know what they asked me the first time they saw me? 'How did you offline seventeen beings without laying a servo on them?' Do you know how concerned you should be? They really weren't worried about offlining right then and there from the mech who supposedly killed without physical contact. They wanted to know how."
["Noted."]
"All I ask. Anyway back to the kids. I, of course, being just a shining example of what a bot ought to be, refused to tell them exactly how that was done. Keep in mind I did know, though. Came with the switch. Not gonna try it out anytime soon, though, so don't mind wipe me. I've already lost a third of my original memories.
"They. Got. Angry. Seriously, work on these youths. They went straight to the police, but I knew that anyone would if they found me. I ran before they had a chance to catch me. I walked inconspicuously down an alleyway and went back to the safehouse and when they returned, all evidence of my existence in the building was gone.
"I went to one of Cybertron's moons, holing up in an Energon refinery. I did not expect to be followed by the guy who switched with me or any of his friends. Well, my friends. He'd convinced them they could capture me and get revenge or something like that and a whole bunch of other slag about me."
. . .
The apprehension in the air could be cut with a blade. Moonlight knew what he looked like. He knew that the odds were unfairly stacked against him and in the other guy's favor.
That didn't stop him from trying.
"Vincent, I know you. You know the real Moonlight would never walk out on a game like that. You know he'd never lead a bot-hunt. He wouldn't kill. No matter what," the black and purple supposed murderer spoke softly, as if he was really convinced that the friend Vincent thought was Moonlight held a small firearm up to his violet-colored helm was the real murderer.
Vincent wasn't accustomed to thinking for himself. When he did, it was in terms of fight or flight. The details were left to others, namely, the original Moonlight and Stormdrain.
Stormdrain had a color palette of mostly white, shot through with gray. She was (or at least Moonlight knew her as) a pretty cool, a trouble making, mischievous jerk, most of the time, but not anything extreme. She wasn't the one to push the button, or first speak up. She was a follower, as was Vincent.
Moonlight knew this. It was this that held their relationship, his popularity, together.
His imposter had yet to fully grasp the social power Moonlight had accumulated for himself, what Moonlight did, exactly.
It was awful, hearing himself say, "Don't listen to him. You know what he did to those innocent Cybertronians. You know that he created an entire network overload in Iacon." It was awful seeing the uncharacteristic snarl on his face, the look he was getting from himself, knowing that he was the only thing standing between this mech and what he wanted most. It was awful facing the only two best friends he'd had look at him and not recognize him.
It was awful.
. . .
"Nothing really happened."
. . .
"You're lying," Stormdrain spat, visor bright with anger.
It was only because they were such close friends that Moonlight knew she doubted herself.
Vincent stayed quiet, a contemplative look on his face. Moonlight knew he thought the same.
In that moment, Moonlight wasn't angry with them. Hurt, yes; frustrated, definitely; despairing, a positive. Not angry. Had this happened to either of them, he would be in the same Energon pool.
No, his anger was directed at the mech that had done this to him. To them.
"I know both of you. We stayed up late talking about stupid, idiotic things that mattered, some really serious stuff that didn't. Draino, I remember at your fifth creation day party, Vinny threw a present across the room because you wouldn't let him have it.
"I remember getting grounded when we were in the ninth level and using a secret commlink to talk to each other. Don't tell me you guys don't care about that anymore. About me."
Vinny, unexpectedly, was the next to speak. "What. Is. Your. Favorite. Color."
The real Moonlight looked him in the optic, remembering the right answer. "Iacon Cameo."
Vincent, who hadn't changed his expression, suddenly changed the target his acid pellet rifle pointed at.
Two words.
"Run, Lighter." Simultaneously, he shot the imposter's gun hand. The mech recoiled, dropping the pistol and hissing in pain, beginning to curse ineffectually at Vincent.
Moonlight could have cried with happiness but for lack of time.
"Run, Moonlight!"
He did, almost out of optic range of the warehouse factory when it went up in flames.
He stopped just long enough to see two figures stagger out. The thinner one fell to the ground outside, a large Vincent shaped burden rolling off of her.
"Vinny, please don't die." It was the last time he'd see Vincentus conscious.
So um. Hi, guys.
I'm really not sure if I'm going to finish this but I really want to.
Like.
Really want to.
I've had this little plot bunny running around for a while, about this high school age Cybertronian named Moonlight who meets a kid and stuff happens aaaaand he's kind of giving his testimony to another bot to get everything straightened out and I hope this makes some sort of sense, because I've thought about this for a really long time and I can read into this plenty and it's starting to sound really...flat and weird and really boring. Reviews are most definitely welcome :)
Much love, my pretties,
TZ
edit: the stuff in [] brackets is the guy hes talking to during the interview. "" is just moonlight.