Wheeljack
About three months after Maestro had started building the robot, he was almost finished. Bronze had left temporarily to one of the other cities on a spot of business and would not be back for some time, so Maestro was left to construct the robot's face and head alone. The face was one of the things Maestro thought long and hard about. He decided he wanted an open, expressive face, one that could convey emotions – none of those face-masks or mouth-pieces that covered half his face.
He wanted a mouth that was quick to smile and laugh, and optics that were bright and would reflect that mirth. Overall he wanted a pleasant, optimistic face where, even if it expressed sadness or anger, one could still look at it and see hope and forgiveness.
All Maestro needed now, to complete the external construction, was a suitable head-piece cum helmet – the one object he did not have in his supply of parts. With a sigh he realized he would have to go out and look for something suitable that he could use.
He set out the next day, after securely locking and barricading his home against prying optics. He scoured much of the entire district until he finally found himself in the west sector. After a lot of walking around, he finally approached what he hoped was a spare-parts shop. As he neared, a small explosion rocked the store and smoke poured out of one of the back windows.
Maestro rushed inside to see if anyone was hurt. He was just in time to see a fairly old mech storm into a back room muttering a string of Cybertronian expletives, some of which made Maestro cringe. Then a voice that Maestro guessed was the old mech's yelled out.
"What in the unholy PIT did you do THIS time!"
A much younger voice tried to respond with some sort of explanation, but was cut off.
"You WHAT! How many slagging TIMES have I TOLD you that I took you in for the sole purpose of sorting out all this junk into what can be re-sold and what has to be smelted down! NOT to attempt to build miniature bombs out of chronometers and discarded energon cans!"
Again the younger voice, one that Maestro found he liked, tried to reason only to be abruptly cut off again.
"I don't CARE about your experiments. When are you going to get it into that short-circuiting CPU of yours that you are not much more than junk yourself! You will never be good enough to be an engineer so stop wasting my time and just do the job I brought you in to do!"
Maestro felt incredibly bad that he had stayed around to hear all of it and decided he had better leave and try somewhere else. He had just turned to go when he heard a door slam shut and footsteps in the room behind him; and the young voice spoke out softly.
"Can I help you with anything?"
Maestro turned back and laid optics on the most unusual robot he had ever seen.
"Pardon?" he asked.
The young robot came up to him. "My name's Wheeljack. I was told to come in here and see if you needed any help."
The robot had no mouth as far as Maestro could see. Instead, two little panels on either side of his head flashed bright blue as he spoke.
"Does he always talk to you like that?" Maestro asked.
Wheeljack glanced at the door. "Yeah. He aint too fond of the fact that the robot he thought to be nothing more than a drone wound up having a mind of its own and went out and got itself rebuilt into a Transformer. I'm sorry you had to hear all that though."
"I'm sorry I stayed around to listen."
"Nah, aint your fault. This is a shop, well somewhat. Bots are supposed to come in here. So, what's your name?"
"My name's Maestro."
"Maestro? Hey I've read about you. You're one of the heroes of the First Great Wars aren't you?"
"I wasn't really much of a hero. I was just a defender. My job was mainly to stay behind and protect the non-combatants."
"Well, protecting the innocent is just as noble as running out to attack the enemy. Don't think I'd have been brave enough to do something like that."
"I think you're pretty brave to stay on with this guy despite all the trash he keeps saying to you."
Wheeljack shrugged, obviously not much used to being praised often. "So what can I do for you Maestro?"
"Well I've created my own robot and all I'm missing right now is a helmet-type thing to go on his head."
"You made your own robot?" Wheeljack asked in awe. "That's amazing. Wish I knew who created me, and for what purpose."
Maestro heard the longing-of-acceptance tone in Wheeljack's voice and a pang of pity tugged at his core.
"I mean, there's gotta be something more to what I can do than just sorting out junk." Wheeljack said this more to himself.
Maestro picked up a large, black object and looked it over. It had probably been part of some sort of sphere originally, but now it had broken off and left a large cavity on one side – roughly the size of a robot's head.
"How much for this?" he asked Wheeljack.
The young bot came over and looked at it. "I cant charge you for this. It barely has any value and – ."
"Wheeljack, you need to do your job."
"But you're Maestro, you're a hero. I couldn't possibly – ."
"And this is your job Wheeljack. I am no more a hero than you will be some day, but you need to do your job for now."
"I don't think I'll ever be a hero, but how about you just take it for now and if it works for you, you can pay me what you think its worth."
"Wheeljack I don't know when I'll be able to come back down here again."
"Yeah, I know that. That's why I was hoping I could come with you now and uh… take a little peek at what you're doing? I've never seen anyone create a whole robot before."
"Wouldn't your boss yell at you for leaving the store?"
"Nah. He's probably getting acquainted with the high-grade energon he hides back there, that he thinks I don't know about. He wont miss me as long as I'm back before closing time."
Maestro smiled. "Then what are we waiting for?"
Wheeljack almost skipped outside. Once on the street he transformed into a little anti-grav vehicle and opened a back panel.
"Get in," he said.
"How did you know I couldn't transform?" Maestro asked as he climbed inside.
"I read a lot about the First Great Wars."
…Once securely locked inside Maestro's little home, Wheeljack followed him into the lab. His optics widened at all the equipment.
"Where did you get all this stuff?" he asked.
"Ferronix has a lot of spare-parts shops," Maestro replied as he placed the black object over a block of metal and drew out a laser scalpel.
"This is so amazing."
"I heard your boss say something about you wanting to be an engineer." Maestro began to cut and shape the cavity.
"That's what I want to be in the future. A really good engineer who can invent just about anything. Maybe even someday build my own robots. But its probably all just a stupid dream."
"Dreams can come true, if you keep believing in yourself and work towards making those dreams a reality. The automated robots of the War dreamed of making Cybertron a free planet someday, and look where we are now."
"Do you believe I can do it?"
Maestro began to give the spheroid a more symmetrical shape. "I believe that the only limit to what you can achieve is yourself."
Wheeljack's optics lit up and Maestro guessed he was smiling, grinning even. He cut a rim and two cheek-guards on the front of the 'helmet'. Finally he cut away a damaged portion of the top and was left with two little juts that stuck out, which reminded him of horns.
"Oh dear," he said when he saw the result.
"I think it looks nice," Wheeljack said. "Gives him a kind of unique look."
"You really think so?"
"Of course. But uh… what about his spark and laser core? If you're gonna get them from Vector Sigma, you gotta have a key to access that thing 'cause I heard that the high-ups in Iacon locked it 'cause of the trouble in the South. And apparently there's only one robot that's got a key. Really old guy, also from the First War."
"I must be a really old guy too then, because I am one of the few left who also has a key."
"Oh! Well that's good. I mean uh… just be careful when you're going up there. Security's a bit tight I've heard… And I guess I should be getting back too."
"Of course. Thank you for coming Wheeljack." Maestro pressed some credits into his hand.
Wheeljack looked down in his palm and saw twenty credits. He looked back at Maestro. "Maestro no, this is… too much."
"You asked me to pay you what I thought it was worth. I did."
"You thought that thing was worth 20 credits?"
"I thought the bot who sold it to me deserved 20 credits. Use it wisely Wheeljack."
"Oh I will! Thank you so much!"
"You're very welcome. Now get going… and good luck."
"Same to you… and thanks again, really!"
Maestro shook his head as he heard the front door shut. "Youngsters."