A/N: Hello, people! I have the second Chapter of my new story hoere for your reading pleasure. I hope this story has the same amount of success (minus the haituses of DoJ) as all of my other stories.
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any shape or form. I only own the story and any and all Ocs in said story. If there's someone you're not familiar with, it's probably an OC.
PLEASE COMMENT! I NEED CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM EVEN IF IT IS MY 3RD STORY!
8 years later...
The base was quiet, but it usually was this early in the morning. Staff Sergeant Kris Stanton didn't mind though. Getting ready for the day, he steps outside of the tent, blinking before smiling when he sees his partner.
The large mechanical figure is crouched down next to his tent, fiddling with something in his hands. He's slightly bulky—but lanky at the same time—the tires of his other form behind his shoulders and resting on his ankles. His helm has a falcon-like design with winged audios. His main color is turquoise, with white on his stomach plating, kneepads, and shoulders, and sandy gold on his forearms, shins, and on his chest. There's a metal scabbard strapped to his thigh, held in place with two bands of metal.
He has an American Flag painted on his right shoulder, the ranking of Sergeant on his left. On the left side of his chest is a small symbol of a golden-colored phoenix, the mythical bird's wings open and lifted, its crested head raised. There's a sword in front of the bird, the blade forming what would be the creature's tail feathers; it's their logo. All of the form's paint was faded, glinting slightly in the increasing light of the sunrise.
Kris clears his throat. The sound startles the figure, causing him to jump. An amber-colored visor turns in his direction.
"Oh, hey Kris. I didn't hear you get up."
The man chuckles.
"It's alright, Delta. What are you working on?"
Delta. That's the name they'd given the robot after finding him in the desert eight years ago. No memory of how he'd gotten there or where he'd come from, Kris and his team had taken in the large, but surprisingly young robot. Now, he was a part of their rag-tag team of misfits.
The turquoise robot looks down at his hands as Kris moves over.
"Well, Katie's birthday is coming up. And you know how stuff takes forever to get to them, so I figured I'd work on it now and send it out so it gets to her in time."
Kris chuckles again. When they had become partners, he'd introduced the robot to his wife and daughter over videochat. Delta and his young daughter, Katie, had instantly hit it off. Whenever it became close to her birthday, Delta would make a little charm for a bracelet he'd given the little girl. Each year, the robot would carve a special symbol from a piece of wood, dip it in protective hardening gel, and send it out to the other side of the world.
"Well, you'd better finish up. We have patrol in a few."
Delta shrugs.
"Don't worry. I'm almost done."
Kris nods. He leans against the turquoise robot's shin, his arms crossed as he watches his partner. The young robot was carefully carving a piece of wood that was absolutely miniscule in his large hands, barely moving his servo to change the shape of the wood. Every once in a while Delta would pause and look at the piece, before continuing to carve with his razor-sharp dagger. It always amazed Kris the level of carefulness the mechanical being was capable of having.
"What's this one?"
"Huh? Oh, this one is…Strong."
Kris smiles. Kaitie was definitely that. The soon-to-be 9-year-old really was strong; she'd been in the hospital the past few months with a case of pneumonia. Delta's little gifts always made her smile.
"Done!"
The soldier peeks into the hand, seeing the piece of wood. The intricate, almost tribal symbol was foreign to him, but Kris knew that it meant something special—especially to Katie in a few months.
"Looks good, big guy. Let's pack it up and ship it out so she gets it in time."
Delta nods, before pulling out a small pack of silicone gel. Dipping the charm in it, he superheats his hand, the gel soon hardening into a hard casing, protecting the wooden symbol. The robot lowers his hand, allowing Kris to take it. The soldier takes it, placing it in his pocket.
"Alright, since you're done, let's head out and get our patrol done. We'll ship it out when we get back."
The large robot shifts, his plating flaring before whirring. Soon, there's a vehicle next to the small tent, engine rumbling. The vehicle looked to be a mix between a military jeep and a dune buggy, the paint chipped and faded. Kris climbs into the front seat, and Delta slowly drives through the base. The two are greeted by some other early-rising soldiers milling around. Once he makes it to the outskirts of the small base, Kris pats the dashboard.
"Okay, big guy. Hit it!"
Delta presses down on the gas, kicking up sand as he blasts forward, flying over the desert. The sand dunes were no match for his vehicle mode, his deep-treaded tires keeping hold on the loose grains. Delta lets out whoops of excitement as Kris laughs. It was moments like these, where it was just the two of them, not a care in the world as they drive under the bright blue sky. These moments were perfect.
And nothing could take it away from them.
