Thanks: ...You guys are so awesome... :') Y'all have me in tears.

AN/ ...I still need internet on my laptop... Holy scrap. Remind me again how I got this chapter out on...time... FAST UPDATE! (Compared to the last one at least, lol) I love my laptop! Anyway, I won't be able to write for a while, that's why I put my ass to work and wrote this as quick as I could. I don't know when I can update again, (you know, school) so count this for the second update this month- aaaalll riiiight 8]

Anyway! Once again people, I deleted the Authors Note that was the original chapter 7, so if you're coming to this story on hopes of finding the actual chapter 7...well, you have 2 actual chapters to read now XD

~ I hope you all enjoy!


The

Midnight Dawns

Chapter 8

Capernum


~Starscream~

"Guess I never really looked... What do you think, Sil?" I turn to her, smiling in a teasing way.

She laughs her sweet, easy laugh, spinning around and facing me. "I think you need new optic lenses if you missed that."

"Ooh, do you think blue would look good?" I strike a pose.

Skyhope laughs, placing the box back down upon the ruined stone. Closing the distance between us, she leans her frame against mine, tracing a digit down my faceplate.

"No, Stars, I love your optics... They're your carrier's."

I wrap my ams around her waist and raise an optic ridge, "You're not the first who's said that... But, you've never seen her."

She averts my gaze, "Oh I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

My optics widen, "You didn't."

She pushes away from me, golden optics bright with mischeoif. "Oh of course not!.. I just might have...sneaked-into-that-container-that-you-think- nobody-knows-about-and-snuck-out-a-picture-of-you- and-your-family!" She clasps her servos behind her back, helm tilting and optics staring at the cracked ceiling of the crumbling building.

I say nothing.

"You know! You are the spitting image of your Sire! Shorter, but the resemblance is incredible."

"Sil! No one was supposed to know about that...stuff!" I whine.

"Oh it's not like I showed it to Crystal. Speaking of such, I think she's the one you should worry about if you went 'eh blue'."

"Excuuuse me?" I plant my hands on my hips.

Skyhope waves a servo, a giggle making its way into the stale air, "You know what I mean. C'mon. Let's go find her, no doubt she's discovered another turbo-toad, and is waiting to see if she should scream or not."

I chuckle, a smirk winding its way to my lips... "You two..." I say, glancing over my shoulder at the Decepticon insignias branded to my wings, and realizing for the millionth time how lucky I really am.

Slipping her servo into mine, we walk hand in hand out into the falling city that is Vos...

My optics slowly flutter open. Darkness is my greeter and it takes a moment for my processor to click my surroundings into place.

I glance down, and discover Nightbird still bundled in my arms. A grimace pulls to my faceplate. Why do I feel so...guilty? I wonder. My thoughts turn to my dream. A memory... Most of my dreams are. I have enough stored that I no longer have to wonder or dream what's out there. I already know. Misery and the odd, peaceful serenity of the universe.

Shaking my helm just slightly, I close my optics and relax against her. What else can I do? We are on the route to our death...

I sigh thinking back to what happened when she left...

Distressed and unsure, I looked frantically around when I reached the end of the icy tunnel. I found no trace of her. I wandered for a long while, occasionally transforming to fly among gray clouds and scan the forest below. Yet, throughout all my efforts, I found nothing.

Discouraged and tired, I let myself drop to the ground. I noted resentfully my fuel lines were well into the danger zone at 7%, and I had long since run out of Melthora. It's true, thought I to myself, starring at the silvery moon who floated above me, appearing just out of reach... The Melthora does drain your strength once you have none. What could have possibly been my last thoughts, were of factitious state. Go figure. I remember thinking back to the days in Shakreka... I had pushed on, and I was at 3%!... But as I lay there, starring emptily at the bright moon, I found myself unable to move. Unable to do anything... Ventilating even became a struggle...

My systems shutting down, I closed my optics and tried to think. At one point in my searching, I had thought I had heard her voice, but now I was confidant that it had only been my imagination playing a trick to keep me motivated. Well, I thought, none of that matters now... I'll just recharge for a while...and keep searching in the morning... Yes...keep searching in the morning...

When I awoke, I was no longer in the forest...nor was I anywhere I had ever expected. I still don't quite know what happened. I was laying flat on something cool, my frame strapped down, some sort of blindfold wrapped around my optics, removing all capability of sight. Next, came up readings. My systems were undamaged, and my fuel levels were up at 24%. I wasn't in any pain, and I felt unnaturally calm, my processor slow thinking and not sending any danger signals to my action timed frame.

Something's wrong! My spark kept repeating, but my processor refused to believe that I was in any danger. Things didn't make sense...but at the same time they made perfect sense. I was strapped to a table, immobile, blinded, and I didn't know where in the Pit I was, that's all I needed to know. And I was okay with that.

So I waited. I don't know how long I lay there. Time just didn't matter. I was waiting. That was that.

Chii!

Something changed.

Before it could register in my slow processor though, I was up and being lead across some sort of terrain.

"Bring 'im here." I heard a voice rack.

"Yeah yeah! Oi! We brought him all the way from Mountain Cal Forest! Shouldn't we-"

Funny, I thought, I don't recall moving.

"No't a chance! Now get your arce over 'ere. If you did what you were supposed to, den 'e shouldn't understand anythin'."

"Yeah yeah. So, Metal-face- Can. You. Hear. 'Meh?"

Was the mech addressing me? I didn't know. It seemed rude to answer if he wasn't actually speaking to me... So I remained silent.

"Well dar ya go!" Said another voice, "he's as dumb as a morlk." There were shouts of laughter. I frowned, not understanding. What did they mean? Nothing seemed to make sense.

I was lead away, and thrust into the back of...something. I heard the scrunch of old wheels stirring over dirt, and leaned back aginst a wall. Recharge found my in seconds... Though it didn't seem to last. I opened my optics to light poring through a door. A silhouette streaked across the blinding background, and I felt myself being lifted by steady hands that pulled me from the 'room'. Light was every where. It was just too bright. Keeping my optics offline, I walked with him as steadily as I could. Data was rushing through my processor. Suddenly I could think again. I could hear the chirping's of animals, smell the clean air mixed with scent of grime, feel the dirt beneath my pedes, and finally, see the stone crested...box that was drawn by four large, shaggy beasts with long horns and shaded, brown eyes.

A mech stood guard in front of a bolted door. He took one look at me, and his stone gaze hardened to granite. A frown bulged at his flabby lips, and he spat, showing greenish denta. I tried to keep my faceplate clean of emotion, but a slight twitch did escape me as an inner sign of disgust. Organics.

The mech ignored me, and instead turned to the door. He banged on it several times until a muffled shout that I couldn't quite make out sounded.

"Yer have company!" the mech shouted through to the other end of the door, to where someone must have been locked within... "Now! I'mma openin' ta do'r, so drag yer filth to da other end of da room!"

I mildly wondered why he was being so rude, before I remembered I didn't care.

I was again gripped and lead forward whilst mech unbolted the door... Oh... Great. I honestly thought about fighting back. But I felt too weak, my frame too tired and stiff. There would have been no way I would have made it far.

As I was shoved up long steps, I manged to swipe a look 0f the mech who lead me there. He nodded, just slightly, but I caught the motion and puzzled over it. He turned, and went to stand beside a femme with kind, midnight eyes and tainted blue skin.

I was then shoved inside.

It was painfully dark. My optics flickered and my throat grunted. "What..." Where was I, anyway? I looked up, and spotted another pair of optics. Golden optics. Familiar optics. Nightbird's optics.

I couldn't explain what I felt. It was like an ocean, slapping me in the faceplate and rumbling that I'm in idiot. And truly, stupefaction was probably the only thing I can really say blundered me for a moment.

"Ni-nightbird?" I couldn't believe it. I really couldn't.

"Star-!"

At the sound of her voice, the rest hit me; and like a voracious, starving mech drawn to Energon, I gripped her and pulled her to my chassi, unable to dam the flood of emotions that stormed me...

Thank the Primus' you're alright... I thought to myself.

And I'm asleep before I can remember more.


"Ello! Ello! People, people, settle down! It is not I you are here to see, but our guests. Be sure to give them a warm welcome now!"

I'm dreaming. I must be. The voice sounds just like that mech who was the announcer on some holovid I saw... Primus only knows how long ago.

So I wait for this memory to play out. For the destined, inevitable applause and whistles.

But there are none...

Wood groans, gears turn, locks shudder, bolts lift...gates open.

"Starscr-am wa-ke up! No -charge! Up! Now!" A fierce whisper hisses in my audio.

"Five more minutes, carrier..." I grumble, turning over, and trying to block out a steady flow of light.

"I am not your mother!"

Wait. What? Jerking myself awake, I sit up and look about. I'm not in the...whatever that thing was, anymore. No...more a...carriage of sorts. Wooden walls enclose us, and there is only one, open window. It's a realizable size, probably about the length and width of my chest...but...

"I don't remember being moved..."

A slight, aggravating pause. "I tried."

"What?"

"Wake you...didn't happen."

"Ah... Wait...where are we?" Nightbird scoots up beside me, and together, we climb up on our knees and look out at the world.

"Capernum," Nightbird whispers, and I take in the dull awe of the city.

People shroud the open gates. A few, bustling homes, with wooden walls and yellow, prickly rooves creak, sprouting younglings that rush forward to get a glimps of the carriage. They dress in rags for armour, yet bright smiles blossom on their faces, and from the shine in their eyes, I deduct they'd love nothing more then to run up and crowd the archaic vehicle. The adults are more hesitant. They grip their offspring's shoulders and hold them back from the road. Different protoforms of shape and colour make up the 'skins' of the people. Many of the organic optics are of a pale, yet intense greenish shade, like the sea after a storm. These people seem hardy, like the Energon farmers from the Golden Age; the ones that have seen through hardships and make good, honest work. Simple folk, proud in their own rights, yet humble against others. With lives that seem plain and dull, yet no other could do they work they do...

We move past the entrance and into a darker, silent edge of the 'city', (Town? Village? Kanata?) where the green grass seems to grow pale.

Empty eyes stare into my spark. Houses with shudders half closed creak and I see helms pop out to watch us. In the windows, some folk that are dressed much better than others observe the precession with frowns upon their faces. I pay them no mind, but one femme does catch my optic. She sits on a stone wall that guards a crumbling, old building. She stares at me, purplish eyes curious, yet cautious. I don't no why she interests me. Aside from tan leggings, she looks like all the others. Her hair is of an amber colour, pulled back in one braid over her head, and her pointed ears slide along the silky fiber, just like all the others... I don't know why, but we stare at each other, gazes locked and intent. And I find myself starring after her as long as I possibly can, before the carriage rounds a corner and she has faded forever from my sight.

I blink, think on it a moment, then put the thought aside for later, resuming my starring at the dull surrounding world. No one else succeeds in holding my attention for more than a second. It puzzles me. What was it about that femme? I wonder. I can't come up with an answer.

The town seems to wander on the same, even though the scenery is constantly changing, and really, I could be having a blast studying the architecture, but in my bored, worry-racked processor, I can't bring myself to care.

It's all just the same to me...

But, finally though, there is one part of the city that grabs at my attention.

Shady, ruined buildings burnt black with soot stand in a cluster of three. Younlings, sitting out upon the front steps stare at me with wide eyes. They either grip the hand of a sparkling, or fellow youngster. Their frames are small, scrawny...underfed; with hallow cheeks and sunken, gray eyes. They dress in dirty, tied rags, that barely cover chappy skin... Alone and hurting, they huddle with each other, starring and cowering, as if I...as if we, were the scariest things in all the worlds of the universe.

Orphans.

For one bitter moment I'm reminded of the abandoned little ones that resided in Vos Care Centres. I'm reminded of the loneliness, the hopeless, the tight energy fields that made up the majority. I'm reminded of the faint glimpses of joy and happiness that would creep into their sparks when...my old partner and I, would visit... I'm reminded of the astonishment that flew about them when he and I would take time out of our work schedules to see how we could better their lives and environment...

And I remember the screams as they were burnt to the ground from the bombings.

A shiver caresses me and I look away. Forcing Skyfire and all the unruly children from my mind, I try to forget the old days. Always look forward, I tell myself. Always look forward.

But as I glance out at the surrounding, grand buildings, I wonder what there is to look onwards to.

We are being lead to our deaths; a mouse caught in the jaws of a cat...and there's nothing we can do about it.

Drawing away from the window, I lean back against the wall below the sill, and look at Nightbird. She's still starring out at the city, but the moment she notices my optics on her, she moves away and sits beside me. I try to smile, but it doesn't come out quite right, and I'm left with a twitchy, almost nervous expression.

Retracting her mask, she smiles at me, and takes my servo. I run my digits through hers until our palms touch. I stare at the link. Just one little gesture. Yet somehow, in someway, it means so much. Leaning back against the wall, I hold my grip on her servo and try to think clear, important thoughts.

And as fate does indeed hate me, I think to the one thing I wish I didn't have to figure out.

How will we get back? For without a doubt we'll try...and we'll succeed. I have every intension of keeping my promise and finding us a route back from wherever we are.

A sigh breaks lose from my intake and finally, I turn around, prop myself up on my knees and look out at the world. Though I don't let go of her servo...

I glance to my right.

She's beside me again, and I feel oddly comforted by being so stuck-to. It gives me the delusion that I'm not really alone. That someone's looking out for me, if only just a little, and it's not just 'Look out for number one 'cause no one else is going to.'

Looking out at the road, I see more people, I see more houses. The more we progress, the more awe-strucking the buildings become. Soon, we are gawking up at tall, shimmering structures that practically feed light from their shinning surface...

You know, I get the feeling that if we're going to get 'home', we're going to have to play along with whatever game we're stuck in now.


Tap, tap, tap.

Pidder-padder, pidder-padder, pidder-padder, pidder-padder.

Tap, tap, tap.

Pidder-padder, pidder-padder, pidder-padder, pidder-padder.

I listen to the sounds of the striding pedes. What is going on? They stopped the carriage mere minutes ago, and we were ushered out by our wings, only to be lead into the back door of a silvery-blue building, its grandour unmatched by any we had seen hitherto.

Two guards, both with hard, green skin, and thick, steel armour, walk on either side of us. We keep our helms down, but I can not help myself, I continuously glance up at the mech we are fallowing. His hair is the colour of sunset. His slit-eyes are gray, and his lips, puckered. He has an odd looking face, with a pointed chin and file-thin nose. He's tall and slim, and wears bright, puffy armour...clothes? His designation I do not know, and he talks a funny, short, snappy way. His voice is not deep, though not high like mine usually is; it's more of a long, vowls-most-be-pronouced-or-the-universe-shall-end sort of type. And, although he is utterly bizarre, I can not help but be slightly fascinated by him. He's so strange, and so much like, yet unlike, anything I've ever seen before...why! I don't what to really make of it!

As I attempt to match the citizens of this strange world in with another that I may have seen on previous travels, (so I might just be able to understand where in the name of Primus we are) we are lead down a gallery of corridors. The walls are brightly painted in colours of blue and gold and even the occasional green, but I don't pay attention to my surroundings. My processor is racing, trying to match anything I see here, to somewhere there... Wherever 'there' might be, that is.

"Stop!" The pinchy voice of the 'guide' exclaims. I look up, and stare blankly at him. "Here is where you will be staying." He states rather proudly, gesturing to a small, olkain door on his left. "Proper garments shall be provided for you," his eyes drift over our frames, seemingly tracing the lines of our armour. "I would suggest changing before the...uh, feast."

I take a moment to consider what he said. Feast? What feast? I thought we were being brought here to be executed... Don't tell me this is some kind of fragged up fairy tale where they honour the 'guests' and then eat them?!... Okay, slow down... I've been hanging around Skywarp for way, way too long...

Suddenly, out of absolutely nowhere, it's then that I remember the Rose. I still have it in my subspace...and I don't intend to part with it...

I manage to shove the thought away, promising myself that I can dawdle on it later, just as we're shoved through the door- the thick, wooden slab slamming closed behind us, and I fall to the floor.

I give an annoyed grunt and push myself up off the ground and look about.

To my right, at the front of the room, sits an old, seembare fireplace with a flicker of the golden heat humming within. A large, four-post berth, covered in soft sheets and fluffy pillows, rests cuddled up to one of the blue-paper-wrapped walls. The center-piece, placed between the berth and the fire, is a thick, greenish carpet, decorated lavishly with floral and forest-tree patterns. An elegantly carved, wooden nightstand lays next to the berth, though there is nothing upon its surface. The ceiling is a plain white, and there are no windows.

Turning around, I study the brown-painted door, and hesitantly try its yellowish handle. It won't turn. I prop my shoulder against the pretty slab, and push, bracing the handle and leaning against the frame with all my weight. It still won't budge.

"Locked," I sigh, turning around and facing Nightbird. She stares at me, her optics large and questioning. Trying to appear calm, I say, "We should probably get some recharge. No telling when we'll be fueled again."

A nod, before a small, apprehensive look. Fallowing her gaze, I look at the single berth... It's, relly not much of a berth, all soft and cushiony, but... What would 'he' have done...? A moment later, a thought comes. "Of course. I'll...recharge on the floor." I clear my throat, and take quick steps towards the berth. Grabbing one of the end pillows and sheets I step over to the soft rug at the front of the room, near the warm, embering fireplace, and drop. Taking just a moment to run my servo along the soft surface of the carpet, I marvel at its gentleness. Laying down, I drape the sheet over my wings, and prop my arms under my helm on the pillow. For a second, I'm at a loss for words.

The silky touch of the thin blanket smooths over my sensitive wings... The rug is so soft and gentle, my frame sinks onto its comforting embrace just enough to shower my stiff frame into relaxation... The helm-cushioner smells of cool, crisp days. It reminds me of trips to Iraxyis; playing in the fields, running in the yards... Everything is so lovely, so comforting. Nothing like Earth, nothing like where I'm always unwanted by everyone, nothing like war. No... Just old memories...of when I remembered what love is.

I smile warmly, "Goodnight, Nightbird," I say, before slipping into playful, laugher-filled memories of my youngling-hood that will serve as my dreams tonight.


By the way 'he' is not Skyfire, or anybody we know...yet. :P

Note: I'm Canadian, and just letting you know- "Kanata" was the word for "A collection of huts" in the Iroquois language, (at least I think it was the Iroquois...could've been Huron) anyway, since I'm kind of a snob, I just decided to throw that word in there cuzzz... I don't know. Felt like it?

Now, I have no idea why Screamer would know that word... Buuuut...maybe he's got a History paper do...? *Ahem* Speaking of which...

Anyway, don't get offended. I didn't mean any offense by it. I just wanted to be cheeky :P

Whoops, I gotta go! I hope you liked this chapter!

Please leave a review! I'll put up a preview of the next chapter later~

I know this one wasn't the best, but I hoped you enjoyed anyway!

~Scarlet