Chapter One - Kidnapped
Many vorns ago, well actually, not that many. Just several vorns ago, in the city-state of Kalis, there lived an adorable youngling.
His name was Iron Blade.
He was the only sparkling of his creators, who loved him very much.
One fateful orn, something terrible happened.
His sire was away, in Vos. Because you see, he was a Seeker in the Armada. Iron Blade himself was peacefully napping in his room. His carrier, well, he didn't know what she was doing.
Because, of course, he was napping.
A loud crash, followed by a scream, startled him awake.
"Carrier?" he whimpered, recognizing the voice of the mecha that had screamed.
Iron Blade sat up in his crib, looking towards the door. Loud noises came from elsewhere in the house. It sounded like there was a fight going on.
The sparkling was confused. And scared.
He stared crying for his creators.
But they didn't come to comfort him.
Although, after several kliks, Iron Blade heard pedesteps coming down the hall. He stopped crying, sobs turning into sniffles.
The door opened and an unfamiliar helm poked itself into the room. The owner of the helm grinned wickedly, a crazy look in his optics.
Iron Blade started crying again, afraid of the stranger in his room.
"Hush now, little one," the strange mecha cooed, slipping into the room. "It's alright."
It was not alright.
As the strange mech drew nearer to him, Iron Blade's cries grew louder until he was screaming.
Why weren't his creators coming?
With an evil sounding chuckle, the mech snatched the sparkling from his crib ignoring the screams. Quickly, he exited the room, heading towards the broken window that had provided his entry into the house.
As he was being carried through the living room, Iron Blade spied his carrier. She was lying still on the ground.
Iron Blade let out an especially loud screech right in the mech's audio receptor. He began wriggling to get free, straining to get to his carrier. Little servos and wings smacked his captor. But it did little good, didn't even slow him down.
Before Iron Blade knew it, they were outside. The mech that had him in his clutches ran down the road and into an alley. He didn't stop there, but kept running, laughing all the way.
If anyone noticed the screaming sparkling being carried away by the laughing maniac, they didn't try to stop them.
And so, at the tender age of five vorns, little Iron Blade was stolen away from his creators.
Later, his sire would find his carrier, laying unconscious on the floor where the thief had left her. The Seeker gently woke her up and learned what happened. They both ran to Iron Blade's room, horrified to find their only youngling gone.
Calling enforcement, the two creators looked for Iron Blade with their help.
It was of little use.
The strange mech and their precious youngling were long gone.
For jours they looked, hoping that Iron Blade was still online. But they never found even a clue to where he'd been taken. Eventually, enforcement stopped looking.
But Iron Blade's creators didn't give up hope that their beloved sparkling was still online. Everywhere they went, they kept an optic out for any sign of him. Every time his sire took to the skies, he would scan the ground below.
Iron Blade was unaware of all of this. He and his captor traveled far from his home.
All the way to the Badlands. To the city-state of Kaon.
/
"Thank you, goodbye," said the femme.
She watched as the last of the customers walked out. The bell above the door rang loudly as it closed, leaving the store in silence.
Sighing, the femme made her way around the counter and through one of the aisles. It was technically a few kliks early for closing, but there was no more mecha in the store. So, she decided, it would be fine to start closing up for the offcycle.
Just as she reached the door, intending to flip the sign from open to closed, a mech appeared in front of it. A small sparkling was in his servos, fussing and looking about.
"Are you closed?" the mech asked, gravelly voice loud so she could hear through the glass door. He peered in at her warily.
The femme placed a hand on her hip. "Do you need something or are you just browsing?"
"I know what I need," the mech grumbled in response. "Can I come in before you close or not?"
"I have a mind to not let you in," the femme thought, frowning at the rude mecha. "Fine. But we are closing in a few kliks so- "
Before she could finish speaking, the mech pushed open the door and had come inside. He was instantly off towards one of the aisles, muttering as he went.
To himself or the crying sparkling, the femme didn't know. She turned the sign over in case any more stragglers decided to shop at this time and walked back to the counter.
"Something seems off about these two," she thought as she observed the mecha in her small store.
The sparkling was still upset. But, from the experience of having two younglings herself, he wasn't crying because of a normal reason.
The little one didn't seem to be hungry, or tired, or any other reason a sparkling may normally cry.
"No, this one seems to be afraid."
Of what, the femme was uncertain. The sparkling had been crying since she saw him and the mech carrying him at the door.
It was strange.
And concerning.
Finally, the mech came to the counter. Balancing sparkling and items, he almost dropped all a few times in the process.
Laughing sheepishly as he almost lost his hold on the sparkling, right in front of the counter, the mech placed all the items he wished to purchase on the surface.
After studying him for a few kliks in disapproval, the femme began to ring through the collected assortment of items.
"What's his name?" she asked casually.
"Huh?" the mech asked, tilting his helm.
"The sparkling. What's his name?"
"Oh! Uhh… It's uh, Spot."
The femme rose an optic ridge, but didn't comment on the interesting choice. "How old is he?"
The mech fidgeted in place. "Oh, uh, he's seven vorns."
"Hmm," nodded the femme. "I don't believe he's that old. Wonder if he can talk."
"Hi sweetspark," she said, smiling at the small sparkling.
The sparkling sniffed and looked up at her, optics shining with unshed tears.
"Can you tell me how old you are?"
Iron Blade looked at the smiling femme. She seemed nice. Nicer than this rotten, crazy mech who had taken him from his creators and home.
"Five," he said quietly.
The mech winced, then laughed nervously. Noting his total displayed on the screen, he began digging in his subspace pocket. "Yeah, I meant to say five. I, uh... Was thinking of my other one. Yeah."
"Ahh," said the femme, as if she understood. She handed the bag over as the mech gave her several credits. "So, Spot. Are you having fun with your Sire this offcycle?"
Iron Blade tilted his helm. "I'm not Spot. And he's not my Sire. He took me from Sire. And from Creator too."
"Hehe, charming little one likes to play pretend," the mech said hurriedly, shuffling the sparkling's position so he could take the bag.
"Charming," smiled the femme, optics darkening. "Here's your change."
As the mech took the change and began making his way out, she sent her sparkmate an internal comm.
"Dearest, are you on your way here still?"
"Yes, I am. Why?"
"There is a mech and a sparkling just leaving the store. I think he might have kidnapped him."
"Want me to stop him."
"If you could."
The femme closed the comm and looked towards the mech.
He was just opening the door.
"Have a good offcycle," she called after him, smiling sweetly.
He didn't reply, but was quickly out the door and headed down the street.
Beginning again to close up, the femme sent his direction to her sparkmate.
Surely, he would be able to find and catch the mysterious mech. If her hunch was correct, he would deal with him too.
In whichever way he saw fit.
Which was perfectly fine by her.
Thanks for reading!