I'm not doing the Everyone Has a Unique Name- Cybertronian is a language with a lot of ways of saying things.
"You seem happy."
"I am, my friend, I am," Gigatron murmured, ice-silver optics following the antics before them, barely glancing at the bodyguard the Senix-clan had assigned -gifted- him all those vorn ago when they'd found him. "We bonded last megacycle."
"Ah." Sixshot nodded, following the Lord Protector's gaze to where Devcon was attempting to teach Orion some basic defence, to limited success and Windsheer's light, airy laughter. Even the Prime's guards could be seen suppressing snickers. The Prime seemed to take it all in good humour himself. "The Senate will throw a fit."
Or twenty, and Sixshot fondly remembered the ones they'd thrown when a Phase-Sixer Destron from the elusive Senix-clan had been formally assigned as a bodyguard. As if the Clan hadn't been bodyguarding them from the shadows before this.
"Let them," Gigatron's frame shook with ill-hidden laughter. "It's how it should be. Windsheer's Soaring in Light Above, and Devcon Anchors in Shadows Below." Gigatron settled back, wings resting easily, freely for the first time since Sixshot had met him. "I almost wish you could hear how the Matrix Sings for us."
Sixshot hrphmed, dipping his head. "I've seen the Temple light up when the Prime visits to talk with Over Lord."
Talk was pushing it; they both knew the Prime had verbally defenestrated Over Lord more than once.
"It's... different," Gigatron's mouth twisted with a strange emotion, optics locked on Orion as he ended up on his back yet again. "The visual is nothing without the Song."
"Hmph," the bodyguard grunted, crimson optics casting about the Tarn-sponsored dojo for threats while he kept sensors on his charge beside him. Out of the corner of his optics, he spotted Carnivac and Aleeta. He dipped his chin in acknowledgement of the assumed dojo-patrol. "I'll take your word, Lord Protector."
Gigatron laughed, clawed hand clapping the 'Sixer on the shoulder. "Come now. I can do a memory share. Perhaps the Prime and Sky-Lord, too?"
The fourth Spark-Kindled, rarest Warbuild-type, and pride of the Senix-clan blinked, mouth dropping open a fraction as all sense of professionalism fled for a klik. "You would-"
"Of course. You are trustworthy," Gigatron pushed off the wall, staring at one he called a friend before he walked towards his Prime, back straight, wings half flared, possessive like all newly bonded. Sixshot followed him. "Orion?"
"Ah-" Orion's sudden shift in attention cost him what little upper hand he'd gained, and he was flat on his face, arm wrenched behind his back in a painfully effective pin, Devcon chuckling, Gigatron outright laughing, and Windsheer bouncing up and down it was her turn to pretty please spar with Devcon.
"Guess you'll always need the guards," Devcon let him up, and Gigatron offered a hand. The Guard turned to the Matria, smirking. "Sure. Could use the workout."
Windsheer's smile was wide enough to show off double fangs, optics glinting. "Oh bring it on, Devvy."
"I suppose..." Orion said as he was hauled up, trying his hardest not to scowl at the thought. Devcon, the Lord Protector, and Sixshot towered over him. Even Windsheer, and she wasn't bristling with weaponry enough to sink a small flightcraft. It wasn't as if he were defenceless-
"Your talents lay elsewhere, my Prime," Gigatron soothed, hand stroking over a shoulder strut.
"I suppose..." He did seem to have a way with words, didn't he?
"Sixshot wishes to know if you'd consent to share a memory of the Temple when it Sung for us?"
"Of course," Orion smiled, port offered before Sixshot could do more than blink. He didn't think he should so freely accept this. A glance at the Lord Protector, then Devcon, showed how unconcerned they were. Devcon even turned away, Windsheer practically pouncing on him as the spar began in earnest.
A lick of lip-plating and Sixshot plugged into the port, only tangentially aware Gigatron had plugged into him.
Several kliks later, the memories started.
The first was a jumbled mess of shapes and images, of gunfire and Protection, of snarled orders to move. To stay behind him. Of the Prime freezing at the sight of the destructive force of a Warbuild who'd made a name for himself in Iacon's underworld.
The Lord Protector was carnage incarnate, a seething hurricane of power and battlelust. He spun with the grace of what he was. A Kayuun Kaiju, styled after the beasts from the Dead Zone of the Rust Sea and then made better. A true warrior.
The view shifted; Gigatron's impressions of the meeting. Of stalking this weak-framed processor-addled civilian. Of watching him find the Matrix in a junkcrate. Of wandering away from where it was fragging Safe. Following - something. And then diving in to Protect his foolish Prime. Of the Warbuild's frustrated snarls as his Prime was too stupid move and obey what was for his own good.
Of scooping him up – shellshock. His Prime was shellshocked. Civilian frames were not designed for war- taking flight into the Ruins leading into the Underdark. They'd be safe-
The memory jolted, shifted-
Light and shadows played eerily over the crumbling ruins as Orion supported himself against a pillar, dry-heaving while Gigatron stood guard in all his energon splattered glory, oversized rifle resting easily at his side, ice-silver optics glowing. Alert, proud. He took his duty seriously.
"There you are, you." A huge blue-white mech said roughly, holding his hands palm up as Gigatron bristled, rifle swinging up at the sudden intrusion on what should have been Their Time. A time to connect, to soothe his Prime.
"That gesture is meaningless." The Protector shoved Orion roughly behind a wing. Orion's safety first, hurt feelings later.
The stranger smirked. "I mean no harm to the Prime or you. I was worried Senata would get ya first."
"Who are you-" Gigatron threw his arm out. "Stay behind me, Orion."
"Name's Devcon. The Imperial Guard." He tapped his helm; the first thing Gigatron focused on was the Primus-blue optics. "We need to get you both to the Temple."
"Oh. That means-" Orion started, peering around Gigatron's wing, icy-azure optics wide.
"Yea. Ramis Prime is dead. Been so for two megacycles now," a tired, sad smile tugged at Devcon's face as he motioned for them to follow him. "His Protector, too. Assassination. Again."
"And Lord Sky Warp?" Gigatron growled, ignoring the distressed sound from Orion. He knew once it recognised him and Orion, if Orion died, he'd follow swiftly.
"Fled to Vos to keep himself and his Heir from Senata control."
Orion's optics widened in horror. "They would dare-"
"Many times." Devcon's voice was flat, drawn. A lifetime's worth of emotion in it. A near lifetime of ultimately failing one of his functions.
"Then we best be on our way." Gigatron nodded in understanding, hand finding and staying, on his Prime's shoulder as they walked.
Unbidden, another memory came. Fuzzy, hazy, seen through a sparkling's optics with adult understanding overlaid and shown to someone else. A double memory?
A brown-and-white Seeker whimpered, optics pale, almost lifeless as kind red hands stroked wings and whispered comfort as the rest of the Harem surrounded him.
"Dam?"
"Ah... 'Sheer-" His smile was watery, fragile as he stared at the one-and-a-half vorn sparkling.
"Hug?" Windsheer stood on wobbly legs, toddling unsteadily over.
Her Sire picked her up, hugging her tightly before putting her on his lap. Sky Warp's strong arms wrapped around her, shaking, trembling.
Sky Warp had to hold on. Long enough for Windsheer to claim her Sparkright from him in the sky-races.
But he didn't want to hold on. He wanted to follow the other two. Ramis and Thundertron... his Prime and Protector. He was their Lord of the Skies, and they the reason he'd return to Roost time and time again, invisible jesses they'd held with care and affection.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry-" He whispered, face buried against his creation's helm, turbines spinning in an effort to sooth her whimpers. The flight from Kaon had been fast and rough, the Senate chasing them most of the way. He knew what they'd done, would have done to him, to his Heir. It wasn't right. But he knew in his Spark there was another Prime and Protector pair already. A new Age was coming. A Golden Age of fairness for all. "Please-"
"It's fine. We know," One said - Drillbit, his beloved Matria - hands soothing over wings. "Stay until she's ready? Then we'll Fly Free."
Sky Warp nodded, blue optics shuttering against the wash of understanding from the Harem-bond, and the loving EM-fields. Trine, Harem, Flock. He could - would - lead them for just a little longer. Long enough so his Heir claimed her Sparkright.
And then he'd Fly Free.
The memory changed, blurred, then settled on the inside of the Iacon Temple as Devcon lead them up its steps, Gigatron and Orion walked in lock-step, the Lord Protector's wings flared, high and wide. Intimidation. A threat that only half-mantled when they were inside.
Yet Sixshot didn't need a memory to know Gigatron was still so very, very dangerous.
"Priest Over Lord. I have two for the Crystali."
The white Priest nodded to Devcon, sky-blue optics flicking to Orion then Gigatron almost dismissively before swivelling back to the Kayuun. "Ah... You know his kind aren't permitted in there."
"Humour me. Gigatron-"
"The Terror of Iacon has no place within the Temple's Centre." Over Lord interrupted, hand raised, beckoning guards forth.
"Stand them down, Over Lord." Devcon's voice was flat.
Over Lord reluctantly motioned the guards away. "You are old. A mistake was made. His kind cannot be-"
"My kind?" Gigatron whispered, hands fisting and EM-field little more than a razor over goldsilkthread.
One attendant nodded. "Kaiju."
The word spat, as if something foul, and the glyphs attached matched.
"The Crystali, please." This time Orion spoke up, voice sweeter than the finest Seeker highgrade, optics narrowed. His face soon set into a determined look. He was young, but not stupid, and the Matrix resonated within his mind, disapproving of the Priests. His hand lay gentle on Gigatron's arm. It wouldn't hold him back, yet it settled the larger. "Please."
Over Lord frowned, yet nodded anyway, beckoning them to follow deeper into the Temple, towards the very heart: The Crystali. "As you wish, Claimant Prime."
Gigatron's scowl was thunderous - EM-field a tight roil of anger to match- by the time they reached the massive crystal cavern. Lit only by torches of white flame, it was impossible to make out the depth of the massive cavern and its hundreds of supporting pillars. Each pillar carved with a single name in a script neither Prime nor Protector could hope to read.
The walls and floors were covered in fist-sized crystals.
(Not even Sixshot could read it.)
"Are you ready?" the young Prime asked, staring up at his Protector. His only response was a slow nod.
Devcon nodded after a pause, leaning against the entrance, arms crossed, optics daring any of the Priests or attendants to halt things now.
As one, they walked the only clear path to the Central Crystal, hands hovering over it.
It lit up in resplendent glory...
and for them, and Devcon, it Sang.
It was sound and colour, light spilling out in time to the Ethereal Song, lighting the cavern and illuminating the walls, revealing each of the fist-sized crystals carved with three names. The Song was ghostly and awe-inspiring. Haunting and sad, happy and jubilant. Welcoming. Forever Welcoming. Pure yet tainted, light yet dark. Outside the memory, Sixshot's optics flared. He could see - hear - how it filled them with love and life, fear and passion, desire and need. Whispered promises and spoke of dire threats.
It was wonder and glory - all eternity before them. Sweet and high, like the chime of the purest Vosian crystal that then swept low. Low and booming as if echoing the deepest mine-shaft before it exploded into the pounding of a warbeat. The spark pounding beat was a thrill. It was war in all its horror and glory. A frantic, whirling, careless grace that spun around the ethereal and slowly they threaded together, melding into an impossibly surreal Song.
It was a two-part harmony and something was missing. The Guard-song and Sky-song, Sixshot realised after a moment. Windsheer was too young then, and Devcon had not plugged in.
Slowly, the song faded the lights shimmering away one by one until a lone pillar remained, before it too faded. Sixshot strained to catch the names he could read-
(Logos Prime, Helatron, Buzz Saw.
Nexus Prime, Zetron, Firecrest.
Nemesis Prime, Devron, Ransak.
Nominus, Sabretron, Skyhigh.
Decima Prime, Nitron, Red Wing.
Sentinel Prime, Magnatron, Tornado.
Ramis Prime, Thundertron, Sky Warp.)
before they - and the memory faded, leaving him in the here-and-now.
"Intense," Sixshot said while Orion unhooked them carefully. "The Guard-song and Sky-song were missing?"
"It's hardly ours to share," Gigatron huffed, wings twitching, optics narrowed, and Sixshot could not shake the feeling ice-silver was not the Lord Protector's natural optic colour.
Sixshot wisely veered away from the topic. He might have been a Phase-Sixer, but Gigatron was Lord Protector. "I saw names on the crystals."
"The Primes. Those who came before me, as I shall come before the next Prime to take up the mantle."
Again Sixshot nodded. "Who are the others?"
"The Lord Protectors, and Lords of the Skies," Gigatron answered truthfully.
"Our names also adorn the Crystali, as the Imperial Guards adorn the Pillars. One may have many Triads they watch over before they're recalled to be reborn anew," Orion smiled. It was innocent, naïve, trusting - everything an Untouched Prime should be, yet now he was paying attention to it, the Prime's EM-field was every Senator's nightmare. It was anything but Untouched. Dark, alluring. Worldly and cunning. Someone used to paying attention, used to cutting through purple-prose and purpler-tape.
Sixshot laughed. Oh, he was looking forward to the Age they would usher in.
It would be glorious.
Thank you for all reviews/comments. If there's any questions, I'll do my best to answer them