Hullo! Now I know I should be working on Mechanic but the plot bunnies suddenly disappeared as I was designing the New Mini-bots and I cant seem to pick it up again, SO I'm pursuing a new Plot bunny and this time its based more on Cybertron. At the beginning it might be confusing, I donno, I havent really planned it out very well . I gotta stop doing that…. Anywho! Enjoy the transformy goodness.
Summery: Static had a very fulfilled life. He had his dream profession, he was content and happy, and the only thing missing was a trine but that always took time to build so he wasn't worried. It all changed when the high lord protector attacked his city and started a world war. Static never thought his life could go so wrong.
These are how I will be measuring time on Cybertron.
Nano-click: half a minute
Astro-click: 5 hours
Breem: One week
Cycle: one month
Orn: 3 years
Vorn: 15 years
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As a general rule of sparklings, twins and triple changers were the most rare. To get both was the utmost rarity and most parents beamed with pride if they managed to have the impossible offspring. As such, when Shadowstalker and Moonbeam found out they were having triple changer twins, a large party was formed to celebrate the couple. Now, its said the Allspark refuses to give such a pairing to bearing Cybertronians, as the size of a triple changer sparkling was twice the size of a normal sparkling, because most bodies could not handle the strain of what was essentially the birth of 4 normal sparklings in a double package. Moonbeam, with his large girth granted to him by his aircraft transport Alt-form, must have been deemed adequate for the sparking.
Every medbot in the vicinity of the couple was in a prolonged state of excitement for the 5 cycle incubation of the sparks before the birthing. Such a rare occurrence was monitored around the clock, put top of the high alert birthings that half orn. Shadowstalker spent the cycles in a hyperaware state, his training as a scout and security bot keeping him on edge the entire pregnancy. Every scenario that could go wrong with the unstable sparking playing in his processors, the innate paranoia of most security bots playing with his data files. The paranoia reached an all time high as the transport carrier went into labour.
Many Astro-clicks later, a femme medbot declared the birthing a success. Moonbeam had given birth to two very healthy Mechs. The unusual forms they had taken was tossed beneath the pride and happiness at the successful births. Almost every triple changer born had the capacity for one flying Alt-form and one Ground Alt-form. The new sparklings deviated from this by one having two ground alt-forms and the other having two flight alt-forms. Most Medbots passed this off as the twin split mixing the programs up and giving the second alt-form to the wrong sparkling. As it didn't seem to be bothering the new sparks, the capacities were never changed.
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A large mech stood in a long line of small younglings. At first glance you would think the mech to be the guardian over the small youths until you noticed the being acting exactly like its small counterparts around it. It ran about, tossing toys and objects around with the small younglings excitedly, until a small ball got stuck on a ledge high up. Try as he might, the large youngling could not reach the ledge. The younglings seemed to sulk and stare at the lost toy until the large mechling perked up. Chittering excitedly, he ran to a small shaded corner. An eerily similar youngling sat in the corner, its back adorned with small wings that fluttered as the mechling read text off a toy data-pad in front of him.
The first mechling reached the second, small wheels on its back spinning wildly in excitement. Chittering loudly to the reading youngling, he pointed towards the lost ball. The two seemed to stare at each other, making small movements as thought they were still communicating with each other. Nodding slightly, the winged mechling stood and walked over to the ledge. Stretching out the small wings, the youngling engaged motors on his back, making him slightly hover over the ground and gave him reach of the ledge. Grabbing the ball, he lowered to the ground, only to be tackled by the wheeled mechling. The two laughed and tossed the ball together, as two grown Mechs stood aside, gleaming with pride.
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A line of seekers stood at attention, chests thrust out, arms at there sides, wings stretched to maximum span. Slightly to the left, a large double winged mech broke the line, its wing span easily doubling the distance of the bulkiest seeker in the line. A larger, older seeker walked the line, inspecting the assembled troops.
" Today, you will be taking your final exam. If you complete your journey's and report back here in less then one Breem, you pass and become fully fledged seekers of Cybertron. Fail to these requirements and you will be held back for another year of extra training. All of you must use your attentiveness, your strive, your will as seekers to pinpoint locations and comrades for long distances in practical situations. Is everyone clear on the exam. " It was a rhetorical question but the line still rang out a loud " Sir, yes Sir" the old seeker nodded, " Very well, Seekers of the Iacon flight academy, I give you the best of luck." A resounding cheer rang from the line and the large double winged mech fluttered his wings in amusement.
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The double winged mech gasped in awe behind his battle mask. A large visor had covered his optics earlier at the spectacle, and the mech was vaguely glad it was there now. In front of him, out in a deep uncharted part of space, halfway through his final exam, a majestic site took his drive away and left him breathless. A swirl or gas, dust, and rock swirled in front of him, colors of the spectrum dancing merrily to and fro. They were one shade a Nano-click and another shade the next. In the very centre of the violent but majestic maelstrom was a tiny spark that was slowly and steadily growing. In front of this fledgling mech, in front of this innocent, youthful, inexperienced optic and spark, a star was birthing. A powerhouse of radiation and destruction, of life and light, of hope and a small despair was being created. It was so fragile, it looked like a small push would snuff it out and yet he knew if let be this small spark would create life, create a lush paradise for new beings and organisms to grow and mature or create death, destroying travelers that deemed it no mind and was swallowed by its uncaring nonchalance for the surrounding world.
In the fledgling light of this new birth, the radiant gas of its sparking shadowing and making his features glow at the same time, the mech suddenly new what his calling would be. He would dedicate his life to witness such an act again. To see a small spark hatch and teem with life, endless possibilities at its grasp and the whole universe seemingly at its fingertips. The mech knew, his life would be dedicated to creating life, to mending, maintained and sparking life. He would see this awe-inspiring phenomena again, even if it was in a different form.
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Again, a long line of Mechs stood together, only these were not seekers but apprentice Medbots. Each had the marking of the medbot on their chassis, whether on shoulder, chest, mid-drift, waist, or arm. Only one had it another place. A tall double-winged mech stood in the line, again breaking it with his long wing span, with the medbot symbol adorning each wing. An older mech, again ,stalked the line, only this one was no seeker but certainly a CMO of some kind. Taking in the line, a small smile graced his features.
" Today, you are officially Medbots, free to take any specialization you choose, whether it be armour construction, surgery, or youngling care, you are free to choose as you so please. If any of you need a guiding hand, your former teachers and guardians would gladly point you in the right direction. Once again, congratulations and may luck be with you on your chosen path!" A loud cheer rang form the line as they broke and celebrated with colleges and friends. Groupings quickly formed and Mechs gathered to discuss future plans and ideas. Only one didn't join in. the large winged mech stalked quietly forward, quickly catching up with the elderly CMO. " Master Crank?" The winged mech asked tenderly. The older mech smiled at the much larger then him fledgling, gesturing welcomingly. " Static, my best student. Graduating with top marks, I dare say you must be awfully proud. What can I do for you?" Static's face heated, a cybertronian blush.
" Master, I know what path I want to take but I am unsure how to pursue it." Crank smiled widely, " I always knew you seemed determined to pass your evaluations early and precisely. Eager to reach your calling? What is it your reaching for? A mastery in surgery? A degree in Armour creation and fixing?" Static took in a large intake, steeling himself for the surprise on his masters face. " I wish to build and nurture Sparklings."
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Shots rang around the crumbling buildings, energy singed and blackened the already destroyed city block. Mechs and femmes screamed in terror as the red-optic beasts tore through the city, large purple emblems adorned their figures. Static was unaware of all this, his body and processor freezing at the sight before him. Large lubricant tears ran from under his visor to his battle mask, almost complete covered by the face protection. The building that sat directly in front of him had its wall blown in, the site that lay inside uncovered for all to see. Atop the building sat a scratched and barely recognizable symbol, the symbol for a sparkling nursery. Inside the first floor of this building sat a horrendous sight. Small metal bodies, some the size of just sparked Cybertronians, some the size of almost-to-mech-sized younglings, sat piled high, almost touching the ceiling. Most had been torn through, seemingly swiftly and precisely, killed instantly, while others looked to be covered in small gashes that slowly bled energon, agonized expressions on their still faces. Most of those were younglings. The winged medbot slowly sank to his knee's, all thought halted, unaware of the approaching enemy seekers targeting him. The last thing he felt was null lasers hitting his side, launching him sideways and away from the incriminating building.
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Static sat up in his berth, tears down his face, gasping for breath behind his battle mask. Since that day he had never removed his battle mask or his visor willingly. Trying to calm his body, static ran his processor over the remaining images from his dream. The day he found that pile of sparklings was the last day Static had ever carved, created, and cared for a sparkling. Most, if not all, had been wiped out by Decepticons early in the war over the Allspark and Static couldn't bare to see such a sight again. Slowly standing, Static was vaguely aware of positioning himself so the jet wings and rotor blades on his back didn't scrape along the berth. Stretching slightly, his large girth screeched quietly and parts folded along each other, his sleek design hinting swiftness and agility unknown to most his size. Small engines adorned his figure, 5 in total. Only one looked different, the other four very jet like. His armour had taken a dark blue and silver coloring over the vorns, small hints of purple accenting parts. His visor held a small symbol, not unlike one found on the Allspark itself. Small antennae sat on either side of his head, audio relays to catch enemy and friendly communications. (think Optimus style only sleeker and a little taller) Sighing dejectedly at another recharge cycle lost, Static stalked slowly from the room, passing his still sound asleep brother on the berth beside his. Entering the recreation room, he grabbed a cube of energon before grabbing a data pad and sat comfortably on the only seeker-grade chair in the room. Reading slowly through the mindless reports on the Neutral factions activity, the Elite Guard CMO hoped they found the origin of the Auto-bot signal soon so the everlasting nightmares could be stilled by long hours of preparation for planet landing.
After the Decepticons had taken Iacon, Static had thought of Joining the Auto-bots but had instead followed a kind mech who found him in front of the sparkling nursery. This mech was designated bladestorm and had become the leader of the Neutrals, a small band of Mechs and Femme's who couldn't choose or wouldn't choose to become an Auto-bot or Decepticon. They had come from all walks of life and all followed a single purpose. To recreate Cybertron and right the wrongs of their people and their foolish war. As CMO and advisor for the communication section, Static had his hands full keeping the small band of Neutrals on the star ship alive, but once in a while the nightmares caught up with him. He hoped that the Allspark being destroyed was a myth, he would give anything to see just one more sparkling being forged by his hands, to see that magnificent sight of a star forming once again.
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And there you have it, if you want a description of Shadowstalker and Moonbeam I can give them out on the next chapter but I hadn't really thought much on them besides them being Static's creators. More description to come as the fic moves along, this will follow a blend of TFA, the 2007 movie-verse, and G1. :D R&R please with what you think.