A/N: Again, apologies for taking so long to update. I started school only a few weeks ago and it's been hard getting used to the new schedule. Next chapter will be posted much faster, I promise.
I know I don't say it often enough, but thank you to everyone whose kept reading and reviewing this story. Even if you're new or just follow/favorite every little bit counts. There may be more reference to Japanese culture in the future, and, like youllbeinmyheart1997, you have concrete knowledge of it, feel free to PM or review me about any possible errors I might make. And to those who offer transformers info and trivia, such as the awesome Sixsamchaos, I will gladly accept all of it.
Now this Author's note has gone on long enough- I hope you enjoy this exposition-heavy chapter and please leave a review!
Drift and Rafael passed through the garage entrance, pools of water already gathered around the ninja-bot's pedes as he closed the doors behind them. When he turned around he was surprised to find the children gathered in a loose circle a few feet away, blankets slung over their shoulders and pillows in their arms. An electric lantern sat in the middle, the only source of light in the spacious room aside from his pale blue optics.
As soon as they noticed him enter the children procured towels, which they handed to him as he approached. Once he was sufficiently dry Drift carefully sat down before them.
"Do you all…really want to know?" he asked, looking at each of the children, though his gaze lingered on Miko for the longest.
They nodded quietly, Miko if slightly grudging. "We want to trust you," she affirmed.
"Well…" Drift looked down at his lap, the downpour outside providing the only sound for several seconds. "I suppose I should start at the beginning. Be warned, it's a very long story."
Quiet eagerness rippled through the children, and they shifted around to find more comfortable positions. The faraway look Frankie had recognized previously entirely encompassed Drift's pale optics as he began speaking.
"I do not know how much you were told about Cybertron before the war, and thus I will be brief; the mere existence of a Cybertronian was unfair. Cybertron's Golden Age and we were all constrained by a brutal caste system. Corruption was rampant in our government; even the High Council wasn't untouched. Sentinel Zeta, our former Prime, was the one to put the caste system in place and let our planet fall to ruin as he hid in his palace.
"During this time I was casteless, a nobody struggling to survive in the gutters of Cybertron. I was without a name, and often resorted to thievery in order to remain online. In my youth I courted death, learning how to fight in the underworld of Cybertron. There was no one to care about except myself."
Drift didn't seem to notice but he had the attention of every one of the children. They huddled together around the light of the lantern, transfixed by the ninja-bot's tale. Drift only paused minutely before continuing.
"It was still some time before the war began that the Decepticons found me. Megatron started recruiting early, preparing for the rebellion. He sent one of his captains to recruit me—Turmoil. He saw potential in me, and gave me a way to contact him. It was not long before the war began. I quickly gained a reputation as a sharpshooter and mercenary. I…I killed many an Autobot, and through that I was given a name. Deadlock.
"It was not long before Turmoil located me again. He recruited me, asked if I wanted to become part of his crew, and I accepted. There was hardly a Decepticon out there as ruthless as Turmoil, but I steadily became a close second." Drift was quiet again, but every pause was shorter than the last. He was determined to tell his story to those who wouldn't have known him as he once was, and judge him accordingly.
"I embraced my nature as a Decepticon, murdering former-allies and countless Cybertronians. I never once questioned what I did—I saw it as survival, like I was back in the slums. But as the centuries passed I began to want more. I doubted Turmoil's plans, thinking him a coward, and believing myself to be a better leader. I intended to usurp Turmoil, but was captured before I was given the chance. Turmoil would have had me executed as a betrayer had I not escaped, and even then, I was ordered to be killed on sight.
"My escape pod eventually crashed on an unknown planet, where I found a base belonging to some slave traders. A Cybertronian named Wing approached me, claiming to be neither Autobot nor Decepticon, and asked for my help freeing the traders' captives. I thought he was weak for wanting to save them, and I would have refused were it not for the chance of escaping with one of the Slavers' ships. When we burst into the base and Wing freed the hostages, I selfishly searched for a spare ship. But I was attacked from behind and offlined. When I awoke I was in a strange room filled with unknown Cybertronians and Wing, my body rebuilt. They told me that most of my old form had been crushed and in replacing it they had saved my life."
"Where were you?" Cody whispered, as if he hardly dared puncture the calm ambiance Drift's voice and the pounding rain produced.
"They called it the new Crystal City. The original on Cybertron was obliterated during the war, but the Circle of Light, a fraction neither Autobot nor Decepticon who fought without guns or blasters, managed to escape the planet and rebuild the city underground, and many scientists, scholars, and even those that did not wish to fight followed them. Those Cybertronians were long thought to have perished, but to my knowledge they remain there to his day.
"Anyway, Wing bringing a Decepticon into the city was not well received by the leader, Dai Atlas, and his council. Knowing of their existence, I was a danger to the city and its inhabitants, and thus was placed under the watchful optic of Wing. I wanted nothing to do with him or the city at the time, and could think only of escaping, so Wing offered me a deal. If I could beat him at hand to hand combat I was free to go. I lost every time, of course. But more than that, he made me question what being a Decepticon meant. I used to think it meant we were the strongest, the most powerful, and that we deserved to rule. And yet I could not beat Wing once.
"He spoke of a way for peace and equality to exist again, that Crystal City held everything I was looking for. I almost wanted to believe him. But all of that would have to wait as the Decepticon Lockdown managed to find out I was alive, allying himself with the Slavers. I was to reveal the location of Crystal City or die, and I pretended to side with Lockdown and created a plan to ambush the city. When I attempted to warn Dai Atlas of this, he wanted me locked away. Although, I had come to realize throughout my stay that Wing was right. Crystal City became everything I had ever searched for, everything that I wanted to protect. I managed to convince Wing and the other knights of the Circle of Light to join me in battle against Lockdown and the Slavers, though Dai Atlas refused to participate.
"We were a small contingent and the fighting was fierce. Wing was slain by the leader of the Slavers, and I took up his sword to finish his battle." Drift touched the hilt of the massive blade he kept on his back at all times, the children never once seeing it unsheathed. "Dai Atlas later named me a knight, and I became determined to complete Wing's mission to free the slaves. I was given a ship and hunted the Slavers for countless stellar cycles. I came upon your Sol system as I pursued a Slavers ship, and they managed to shoot me down. I directed my ship to the nearest planet, one that was not in the ship's records. I would not know its proper name until much later.
"I landed in Tara, Japan in the year 1835. The son of a merchant family was the first to find me, and believing me to be a god or kind of spirit I was invited to stay with them."
"Wait just a minute!" Miko said, removing herself from the bundle the children had become. "You've been living in Japan for almost two hundred years? I was living in the same country as an alien robot my whole life?!"
Drift smiled softly. "If it makes you feel any better, I hardly left the Saga prefecture."
"It doesn't," Miko muttered, sitting back down.
"What happened after that?" Rafael asked eagerly. "Did you really stay in Japan for that long?"
Drift nodded. "My ship was beyond repair. The family that welcomed me were the only humans who knew of my existence, and as time passed they began to accept me as one of their own. Every new child that was born knew me right away, and it was not long before I found myself living with the descendants of that first family."
"And you've been there all this time?" Jack commented curiously.
"I traveled some, curious about your planet," Drift responded. "But I always returned to Tara."
"Will you go back once all this is over?" Frankie asked.
Drift hesitated for a klik, taking in the children's expectant faces. He smirked. "If I survive I certainly will."
"So what's your family like?" Miko said. "Are there a lot of kids? What was the name of the first kid who found you?"
"Miko!" Jack hissed, embarrassed by the girl's flood of questions.
Drift smiled softly, but instead of answering he rose to his pedes. "It's late. Nurse Darby will be upset with me if you don't rest now."
A chorus of groans rose among the five children, but at further prodding from the ninja-bot they began to collect their blankets and pillows and filed back into the firehouse.
"Thanks for the story, Drift!" Cody yawned, the first to disappear through the doorway.
"You should really tell the other 'bots what you told us," Rafael added just as tiredly, "They need to know they can trust you."
"We will see," Drift allowed. He watched Miko, the last to gather her things.
"Miko."
The girl looked back and the corners of Drift's lip plates curled upward.
"His name was Benjirou."
Miko grinned. "Thanks, Drift. G'night."
He bowed lightly as she made to close the garage door, the guilt encasing his spark lessening by a fraction.
"Good night."
"-and I pursued the Slavers until shipwrecking on this planet."
Optimus scrutinized the ex-Decepticon from his advanced height, his half-blind gaze ambiguous and patient. "Do you know what became of Dai Atlas after your departure?" he requested.
Seated on a medical berth, Drift resisted the urge to bow in apology.
"I do not, sir. The last I saw of him was hundreds of stellar cycles ago. However, the city was well-guarded. I cannot imagine that it would have been destroyed."
"New Crystal City, alive and well," Jazz wondered aloud as he reclined casually again the wall. "Wild."
Ironhide grunted what could be taken as an affirmative, turning over Drift's massive sword in his servos a good distance from the gathering.
"I'm more concerned with how you managed to intercept Optimus' second transmission," Ratchet opined sharply from behind one of his lab's many monitors. "You were stranded on Earth with a damaged ship incapable of tracing Autobot signals, were you not?"
Drift nodded. "That is true, doctor. Although, while I couldn't trace Autobot life signals as you said, I was able to tap into their communications if the need ever arose."
"And where'd ya pick up that neat lil' trick?" Jazz asked calmly.
"I met an Autobot during my time hunting the Slavers," Drift said, "a scientist. He outfitted my ship with the necessary equipment.'
Jazz's optical ridge rose in further curiosity. "An' the name o' this mysterious 'bot?"
"Perceptor," Drift answered.
"Perceptor?" Ratchet repeated, his voice tinged with incredulity as he stepped out from behind the console. "Do you know if he is still online?"
Drift shook his cranial unit regretfully. "I do not. I hope so."
"Well what ah'm really wonderin' is how'd the ninja-bot get his servos on this?" Ironhide said loudly, grudgingly approaching Optimus to hand him Drift's sword.
Optimus approached Drift again, his blade held in his servos. "A Great Sword," Optimus began. "I thought I recognized it upon our initial meeting. You did find the Circle of Light."
Drift bowed his cranial unit slightly. "I did. Dai Atlas made me one of his knights after we fought the Slavers."
"An' you decided to yell the kids before ya told us?" Ironhide demanded suspiciously, once again standing apart from the group.
An odd look crossed the ex-Decepticon's features, and his shifted his shoulder panels in minute discomfort. When he saw that his commanding officers expected an answer, Drift straightened himself.
"When you and I first met, Optimus, I told you that I had remained stranded upon this planet for nearly two hundred stellar cycles."
Optimus nodded, notably curious about where Drift's explanation would lead. "Indeed. You claimed that a human family hid you from the rest of the populous." Coming from the Prime, it almost sounded like a question.
Drift hesitated to speak again, but he visibly steeled himself.
"In those two hundred year, that human family accepted me like no one else could," he said, his tone soft but resolute. "I explained out war to them as best I could, and they still opened their home to me.
The knight fingered one of the swords remaining at his waist, a tick that had Ironhide's hackles rising. "While I was in space, I found it prudent to avoid contact with other Cybertronians. My past deeds weren't favored by either fraction, and aside from frequent skirmishes, I never initiated contact with others. Meeting Perceptor was a fluke—one of my ship's engines gave out and I crashed on the planet he resided on. Perceptor was the first Cybertronian I'd seen in a thousand stellar cycles. Being apart from my own species for so long, I was able to form a connection with the humans I encountered. I trust them to this day."
"Humans?" Ironhide scoffed, folding his bulky servos over his chassis.
Drift met the weapons specialist's suspicious optics with a cool look. "It is difficult, to be alone for so long."
As Ironhide shifted uneasily, avoiding everyone's gaze and Optimus said, "I understand, Drift, and do not condemn you for your actions. Neither Autobot or Decepticon are of clean conscience now, but if you will stand at my side, we may end this war once and for all." The Prime offered Drift the Great Sword.
The knight nodded briefly, taking his sword back and sheathing it. "There is nothing I'd rather do, sir."
"Knock Out."
The medic nearly dropped his scalpel in poorly disguised alarm at the grating voice print that cracked through the air. With one optic on the vitals of the Vehicon he was treating Knock Out turned to face the Decepticon that addressed him.
"What can I do for you, Lord Megatron?" he said with a brief bow. A quick glance verified that patient was still in stasis.
The former gladiator's bloody gaze never wavered as he stared down the medic from his supremely advanced height.
"You are aware, Knock Out, that Shockwave now resides upon this vessel?" Megatron asked with disquieting calm.
Knock Out felt his fuel pump skip despite himself. "Yes, sir, I was indeed made aware," he responded warily.
Megatron locked the digits of his servos behind his lower backstruts, looming ponderously over the much smaller mech. "Then why are you not in his lab assisting him with the completion of the synthetic energon formula?"
Knock Out wasted precious nanokliks in shuttering his optics and grasping for an answer.
"Pardon me, Lord Megatron, but I wasn't aware of those duties." The resplendent mech drew himself up proudly. "I am already an exceedingly competent scientist, if I do say so myself, and I have made various leaps in the completion of the synthetic energon."
"Such as the near-fiasco with Cylas?" Megatron growled.
"With all due respect, that was mainly Starscream's fault—"
"It was under your watch and in your medical bay," Megatron interrupted harshly. "If we had not destroyed Breakdown's body in time we might have lost over half our forces. It was nothing less than a mistake to entrust you with such a delicate project, and as such you will deliver all information regarding the synthetic energon and your experiments to Shockwave immediately. You will aid him in any way he requires and report all advances in your research directly to him."
"B-but, sir," Knock Out protested, fear for something other than his paint job coursing through him. "I have worked one the synthetic energon project alone for nearly a stellar cycle, surely—"
"You have worked without a single useful result," Megatron hissed, glaring down at the medic. "Are you questioning my judgment, Knock Out?"
Knock Out balked, hoping he'd only imagined the sound of a plasma cannon charging. He lowered his cranial unit in submission.
"Of course not, My Lord," he answered dutifully.
Megatron began to exit the med bay, studying the medic for a klik. "Report to Shockwave's laboratory within the megacycle. Do not disappoint me again, Knock Out."
Knock Out didn't raise his cranial unit until the doors had sealed shut behind the leader of the Decepticons.
"I wouldn't dream of it, Lord Megatron," he muttered bitterly. The ailing Vehicon he'd been treating on the berth beside him made a weak sputtering sound before he succumbed to his injuries and his vital signs died completely.