It was late in the day. Kaon's roads were not as busy as they usually were. A trine of seekers flew almost soundlessly through the air. But Tanker didn't notice, or perhaps he didn't care. His processor was preoccupied by thoughts of where he was going, and who he was going to see.
Tanker wiped off some dust that had rested itself on his shoulder. He was covered in dust. The mines were not kind to him that day. One of the supports had cracked, and while it didn't collapse the mine, it did displace some metal which blocked one of the alternate tunnels. The blockage was moved rather quickly, and no one had gotten hurt.
His work was taxing, and he was often tired after he had done his job, but in the end he would always visit the Iacon Hall of Records. It was almost on the other side of Cybertron, but Monorail Transport was incredibly fast. In many cases it would take only a Joor or two to make it halfway across the planet.
Tanker was extremely pleased when he found out that the Monorail wasn't just used for cargo transportation, because he would no longer have to wait an entire Deca-cycle to go to Iacon. After discovering the Monorail's other function, Tanker would always use it to travel to Iacon after working in the mines, no matter how badly he needed to recharge. He had only little time to do as he pleased, but he didn't mind. He could spend that little amount of time with his bondmate, and that was what he lived for.
His bondmate had contacted him from the Hall of Records, just after Tanker's shift had ended, and requested that Tanker meet there as soon as he could. Tanker was a bit confused at the request, though he wasn't upset in the slightest. It just meant that they would be together even longer. He quickly began making his way to the Monorail Transport Station, taking in the sights around him as he went.
He walked passed the Gladiatorial Pits, hearing the sounds of swords hitting, guns firing, the audience cheering, and screams of pain that were quickly cut short. Tanker frowned, but said nothing about it. He had no control over which Guild a Cybertronian was placed in, so why should he worry about it? He shook his head. He refused to think about such things, not when he was going to Iacon again.
The Monorail wasn't far from the Gladiatorial Pits, and Tanker arrived at the Station in only a few Kliks. He was one of the few Cybertronians who rode the Monorail, and the others were usually from a higher caste. They looked down on Tanker, as if he didn't belong there, but he didn't care about what they thought. He cared about seeing his bondmate, and the Monorail made it easier to do that.
The ride seemed very short, which was unusual, because normally it felt like Orbital Cycles before he could get off, but this time he was preoccupied with thoughts of why Skylight wanted him to hurry. Tanker wondered why, but he couldn't think of any reason other than...
Well, he was just glad he wasn't that tired yet.
The Monorail slowed to a stop much sooner than Tanker had expected. He let a few Cybertronians exit first, mostly because they wouldn't wait for him to do so before them, then he stepped outside, looking back to watch the Monorail take off again.
After a moment, Tanker turned around and faced Iacon's streets. It was much more beautiful than Kaon, with the sunlight reflecting off of the ground and buildings which made the city-state seem like it was glowing. Tanker spotted the Hall of Records rather quickly, the spherical dome being a unique feature of the area. Tanker smiled, and began making his way towards the building he knew so well. It wasn't far, and Tanker soon found himself facing the entrance.
Tanker slouched slightly, a warm, but tired smile appearing on his faceplate when he saw who was waiting for him at the doorway. "Skylight."
Skylight was leaning against the door frame with a smile. She was just a little taller than half of Tanker's height. Her frame was a very, very bright blue, with only hints of white. Her optics were a darker blue, but only slightly. Skylight pushed off of the door frame, walking over to Tanker and stopping a step away from him. Her smile widened. "Hello, darling."
She turned around and began slowly walking back into the Hall of Records, and Tanker knew that she wanted him to follow. They always greeted each other in that way. Tanker nodded to himself and then went after his bondmate, thinking of the possible reasons why she would have wanted to see him so badly.
Skylight lead Tanker up towards the top of the building, towards an empty room that had been left forgotten. Tanker was the first to step inside, and he smiled at the familiarity of everything there. Skylight and Tanker had moved chairs into the room, so they could sit while they spent time together. There were no windows, and the entrance was hard to find, so no one had ever seen them there.
Skylight carefully walked up beside Tanker, and he glanced at her to see her looking him up and down with a smirk. Tanker cocked his head slightly, unsure of why she was doing that, before she stepped right in front of him. She looked up at him, saying nothing. After a moment, Skylight slowly raised her arm and placed her hand against the side of Tanker's faceplate.
"You're filthy," Skylight said quietly, gently brushing dirt off of his cheek with her fingers. Tanker smirked, then he placed a hand on hers, just to keep her hand there for a little longer. He had missed her. They had only been apart for an Orbital Cycle, but it felt like much longer to both of them.
They locked optics, staring at each other for almost a Klik. Skylight smiled, then she carefully pulled away, taking a step back and gesturing for Tanker to take a seat.
Tanker moved over to a nearby chair and sat down, and he watched as Skylight walked over to him with a smile. She stopped behind him, watching him with a smirk. Skylight wrapped her arms around Tanker's neck, humming in content. "You remember your promise, darling?"
Tanker leaned back, optics closed as he listened to the sound of Skylight's voice. "Mhm?"
Skylight trailed a finger along Tanker's cheekplate, almost whispering. "You promised you would take me on a tour of the underground."
Tanker's optics opened, and he turned around to frown at his bondmate. "I thought you were going in a whole different direction with that."
Skylight only giggled, letting go of Tanker's neck and taking a step back. "So, what do you say?"
Tanker stood up, deciding to tease his bondmate for that little trick she pulled. "Hm, I don't know. Do you think you deserve it?"
"I know I deserve it," Skylight responded, with a laugh in her voice.
Tanker chuckled as well, smile growing on his faceplate. "Would you like to go now?"
Skylight nodded excitedly. "Of course."
Tanker nodded, taking Skylight's hand in his, this time leading her out of their secret place, where they would always meet.
They walked together, side by side, hand in hand, back the way Tanker had came. Skylight had never been to Kaon. She had lived her whole life in Iacon, and so the trip she was about to take excited her so. Her grin was large enough to make her faceplate hurt, but she was so happy she didn't even notice.
Tanker stopped for a moment, and Skylight looked up to him in confusion, only to realize that they were at the Monorail Transport Station. She had only read about it in datapad logs, but they had never prepared her for the real thing. The Monorail was clearly one of the fastest Transport Systems ever built. Skylight read that the only thing faster was Astrotrain and the Emergency Transit, and the latter hadn't been used in hundreds of Solar Cycles.
Tanker let Skylight step on first, and then got on behind her, just before the Monorail began to move again.
Tanker and Skylight rode the Monorail together for the very first time, holding hands for the entire Joor. They remained silent, pleased only with each others company more than any words could explain. The trip back to Kaon seemed even shorter than before. Tanker watched as Skylight marveled at the new places she saw through the window, places she had only heard of. Being cooped up in one place had her fascinated with the rest of the world.
The Monorail soon came to a stop. Tanker and Skylight were the first ones out, though they didn't notice. They began walking to the mine where Tanker worked. As they walked, they passed by the Gladiatorial Pits, and Skylight could hear the violence as if she was right in the arena. She frowned slightly, looking very concerned. Tanker gently tightened his grip on Skylight's hand, whispering calm words to her, but his voice, while clear as day, could not drown out the screams.
They walked until they were far away from the Gladiatorial Pits, and the mines quickly came into view. Skylight immediately perked up at the sight and he smile returned at full force. She looked up at Tanker, her optics glowing with appreciation.
"Will you find me if I get lost?" Skylight asked playfully.
Tanker smirked, but it was more of a smile. "No promises."
Skylight giggled, still holding Tanker's hand in hers as he led her into the mine.
It was dark. That was the first thing Skylight noticed. There were some lights placed on the walls, illuminating the sections of the tunnels that were being worked on. There were more miners working there than during Tanker's shift. Tanker had never come to the mines after he was done his job before. It seemed rather strange, and for some reason he felt like he shouldn't be there, but he continued on. It was what Skylight wanted.
They kept heading down the tunnels, until they entered one of the lowest levels, which hadn't been worked on in a long time. Tanker stopped walking, taking a look around. It wasn't the greatest looking area, in even worse shape than a regular mine. Tanker frowned. It wasn't what he wanted Skylight to see.
"I know it's not much," Tanker said, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. "It just like every other mine. It's nothing special."
"What are you talking about?" Skylight almost squealed, running over to a wall and tracing a finger along one of the cracks. Her optics were wide with excitement. "I've only read about this place! I've seen pictures, but it's nothing like the real thing!"
Skylight gave a sparkfilled laugh, spinning around through the dust in the air. She loved it. She loved everything about it. Tanker watched Skylight for a moment, then his shoulders relaxed and he allowed himself to smile. The mines may not have been a great place to visit, but his bondmate was enjoying herself, and that was good enough for him.
Skylight practically inspected each individual crack and dent and imperfection in the wall. It was amazing. She hadn't seen anything like it before. She was in the underground. The metal was very dusty. Skylight smirked. It was probably why Tanker was always filthy when he visited her.
A pile of dust fell from the room of the mine, directly onto Tanker's shoulder. He just brushed it off, thinking nothing of it. Then, another pile of dust, much larger than before, fell right in front of him, and in other places, including Skylight's hand. Skylight looked at the dust curiously, then she looked up to the roof. The mine seemed to groan, as if there was a sudden amount of pressure thrust upon it.
The ground was shaking. Tanker hadn't realized it until he saw a few tools slip off of a slab of metal and clatter onto the floor. The mine seemed to growl and groan as the supports started to crack.
"Tanker?" Skylight said from the other end of the tunnel, barely above a whisper. Her optics glowed in concerned confusion as she looked her bondmate directly in his optics. "What's happening?"
Before Tanker could respond, the supports began to collapse in on themselves, leaving huge chunks of metal falling to the floor. All of the other miners began running to make it out of the mine, but most of them had been closer to the exit than Skylight. Tanker pushed past them, slowly at first, but then with more force as he came closer to his bondmate.
Tanker tried to run to Skylight, but an extremely large slab of metal fell right in between them, blocking his way. Tanker tried to push it over, but his efforts only made it stick further into the ground. Tanker found a small opening in the metal, and he quickly knelt down to look through it. Tanker watched as Skylight barely managed to avoid the giant shards of metal that were rapidly falling to the ground.
Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and the entire mine shook even harder, almost knocking Skylight off balance. Tanker yelled. "Skylight!"
Skylight locked optics with Tanker, and only then did Tanker see how afraid she was. She didn't know what was going on. She had never been in the mines before. She didn't understand. Tanker felt a pang of guilt, and through the hole, gestured for Skylight to come to him.
Skylight, extremely carefully, made her way over to the slab keeping her and Tanker apart, dodging the falling metal as best as she could. Before she made it to the hole, another tremor sent Skylight sprawling to the ground. A shard fell dangerously close to her head, and Tanker almost yelled again. Skylight pushed herself onto her knees, locking optics with Tanker again. She slowly crawled over to the metal slab, right where she could see her bondmates faceplate.
Tanker reached through the hole, trying to grab onto his bondmate and get her to safety, but he could only get his arm through. Skylight wouldn't be able to fit.
Skylight gently grasped Tanker's hand. He paused, watching Skylight with concern and confusion. She should run. She should run and try to get away. She should try to find something stable to duck under, just until it was over. Then he'd find her. He would find her. He said that he wouldn't, but he lied, he would find her.
Tanker and Skylight ignored the danger around them, just staring into each others optics, hoping for just one more moment to look at each other and feel their fingers intertwined. Skylight was tearing up, and Tanker could only watch, his vocalizer going mute. Skylight held onto him, and she didn't want to let go.
Suddenly, the metal slab between them began to snap and bend, and the roof came down with it.
He couldn't hear.
There was a ringing in his audio receptors that blocked out everything else. His vision blurred, but he could see, though it was as if each time he blinked he skipped to at least a Breem ahead. The first time he opened his optics he saw the roof of the tunnel. The second time, he was in a Monorail, but one that appeared to be for emergencies only. The third time, he saw a light.
Slowly, his hearing returned, and he heard Cybertronians rushing around him, yelling at each other, though he couldn't make out the words. Tanker looked around, and saw that there were medics everywhere. There were medical berths and datapads, and so many injured.
Tanker glanced around again, and he noticed a monitor on the wall, unused by anyone. Cybertronian words shone on the screen, and Tanker blinked.
Protihex Medical Center.
He was just in Kaon, almost halfway across the planet. Why was he in Protihex? Protihex might have been the most advanced Medical Center on Cybertron, but that wouldn't explain why he was there specifically.
Tanker slowly sat up, and he felt a sudden pressure on his spark. He ignored it at first, then the pressure grew until it began to hurt. Tanker unconsciously rubbed at his chest, finding it hard to breath.
The pain suddenly left.
Tanker blinked. He wondered what that was. He found the strength to stand, feeling very light. It took him a moment to realize that he felt strangely empty inside. He felt like he had lost something important to him, but he couldn't tell what. Tanker thought hard, but his mind kept returning to the pain he had felt, and the loss he was feeling. It was almost as if his bond had been severed-
Tanker's optics widened, and he looked around frantically for his bondmate. He should be able to tell where she was. The bond should help him, but he couldn't feel her anywhere. He began walking through the halls, looking at each Cybertronian in an attempt to find her. He scanned each of medical berths with his optics, the emptiness in his chest becoming ever more present. He was tempted to ask someone if they had seen her, but right when he was about to do so, a bright blue frame caught his attention and he almost gasped.
"Sky?" Tanker's voice was barely above a whisper. He was blind to the medics rushing by him, trying to get to every patient. His optics were locked onto the limp form laid on a medical berth before him. He unconsciously stepped forward, reaching out towards his bondmate. "Skylight?"
A white and orange medic hurried next to Skylight, scanning her vitals with a concerned expression in his optics.
"No," Tanker slowly shook his head, trying to convince himself that what he was seeing wasn't real. He continued forward, ignoring the medics who bumped into him as they tried to attend to others. Tanker felt lubricant sting his optics. "No. Please."
He stopped next the the berth her form was rested on, oblivious to the medic yelling at him to get away.
"Sky, please!" Tanker had to be held back by another medic to keep him from interfering. The white and orange scanned Skylight's helm, and his optics widened. The medic quickly grabbed a defibrillator, and it buzzed as it charged before it was thrust down onto Skylight's chassis. There was a crackle of electricity and Skylight stiffened.
There was no response. Time seemed to stop for Tanker as he waited for the white and orange medic to try again. A buzz resounded from the defibrillator, and the medic brought it down again.
Skylight remained still and silent on the berth. Tanker tried to yell at the medic to try again, but his voice wouldn't cooperate with him. The medic held the defibrillator in his hands, heard a loud buzz, and thrust it down. Skylight tensed up. Electricity trailed along her frame. The medic stepped back and waited.
Nothing.
Tanker watched as the Medic called two others to help him lead her away, and Tanker made a move to go after them, but the mech restraining him was really good at his job, and held Tanker back. Tanker let out a shaky breath.
"Wake up..."
The mech who had been restraining him finally let go, but Tanker didn't make a move to walk away. He only stared in the direction his bondmate had been taken. She would be alright. She had to be alright.
"I need you to look at me," The mech said quietly, gently forcing Tanker to pry his optics away from the corridor and face him. The mech was dark yellow with bright blue optics. He was slightly shorter than Tanker, and the fact that the mech was able to restrain him would have surprised the miner if he hadn't been so preoccupied worrying about his bondmate. The mech watched Tanker with concern before speaking again. "I'm Voltlock. I need you to answer this question, alright? Do you know that femme?"
Tanker didn't hear the whole sentence, but he heard the last question clearly. Tanker gave a nod, though it was stiff, as he was still in shock. "... Yes."
"Can you tell me her name?" Voltlock said taking a step back to give Tanker space. Voltlock walked over to a nearby table and picked up a datapad, and it glowed as it buzzed to life. "I may be able to find a file on her that could give us something we could use to help her."
"Her name is Skylight," Tanker said, pausing before he continued. "She's an archivist in the Hall of Records."
Voltlock nodded as he quickly jotted the information down. "Do you know why she was in the underground?"
Tanker froze. His breathing quickened as he stared ahead. His voice was distant with realization. "I took her there. She said she wanted a tour."
Voltlock watched Tanker's expression change, and he became concerned that Tanker might fall into stasis from shock. Voltlock carefully guided Tanker to a nearby bench, and the miner slowly sat down, still in shock at the recent events. Voltlock paused momentarily, then he handed Tanker the datapad.
"I found information on her, but more would help her a lot," Voltlock explained. "Can you look for more information about her?"
Tanker nodded again.
Voltlock gave a soft smile. Then, he pointed to where Skylight had been taken. "If anyone comes out of that corridor, you can ask them about Skylight, alright?"
Tanker nodded, though he might not have known that he did. Voltlock gave Tanker a reassuring pat on the shoulder before he stood up and went over to another patient.
Tanker didn't know how long he had sat there. He saw medics walking by to attend to patients, he saw many Cybertronians visit their friends, children, carriers, sires... bondmates. Tanker stayed still until the night, sitting silently as Kliks turned to Joors, and the sun was no longer in the sky.
He noticed that no one ever entered or exited the corridor where Skylight had been taken.
Tanker was concerned. He couldn't feel Skylight anymore. His bond connected her to him. He should feel her, but he didn't. That usually meant the bond had been broken, but he would never break their bond, and neither would she. They meant too much to each other. She wouldn't leave him like that.
Tanker felt a hand rest on his shoulder, which tore him from his thoughts. Tanker looked up to see a mech watching him with concern. Tanker glared at the mech, and when he spoke he accidentally sounded more polite than he intended. "Who are you?"
The mech clearly didn't notice Tanker's discomfort. He smiled slightly as he removed his hand from Tanker's shoulder and stood up straight. "My name is Motor. I am a medic. Is there something you need?"
At that question, Tanker gave Motor his full attention. "My bondmate. She's been hurt, and I haven't seen a medic treat her."
Motor nodded, and he began typing something into the datapad. He paused for a moment and looked at Tanker. "What is your bondmate's name?"
"Skylight," Tanker answered, voiced dropping slightly. "She was hurt during the mine collapse."
Motor nodded again, typing the name into the Medical Database to find out what was happening to her. Motor searched through the patient records, but there was no one named Skylight listed in any of the files. He checked other listings to see if she was accidentally added to another section, reading through the visitor listings, assigned Medics, even the shipping orders, but he could find nothing. Motor frowned, and started a wide search of every database, and the datapad lightly beeped.
Motor read the information, and his optics widened for a moment before he let out a barely audible breath of defeat. Motor looked to Tanker with sympathy. His voice was quiet as he spoke. "I'm so sorry, but she didn't make it."
Tanker felt like his spark had shattered inside of his chest. He stared directly at Motor, though he couldn't see him. There was darkness clouding the edges of his vision, and the darkness seemed to replay what he had just been told, over and over again, but for some reason Tanker couldn't understand what was being said.
She didn't make it.
Skylight didn't make it.
Tanker couldn't understand. He couldn't make sense of it. It was as if he had heard it in a different language, a different dialect of Cybertronian that he had never heard before, something other that what had just been said. Anything.
Please!
He wished that everything would just go back to normal, and he could go to the Hall of Records, after mining in the underground, meeting Skylight near the entrance way, greeting her with an embrace, telling her how much he loved her, spending as much time as they could together, just like they always did.
Tanker's breath was becoming extremely warm as his internal fans tried to cool his overheating frame down, visible in the air. He almost began shaking, and it took all of his willpower to keep himself from doing so. Motor's words were drilling themselves into Tanker's processor, and no matter how much he tried to ignore the pain, it hit him at full force and he nearly crashed.
Skylight.
Tanker's optic twitched slightly as he returned to the present. He looked up at Motor, expressionless. Static lingered in Tanker's voice as he spoke. "... That white and orange mech who was treating her... Who was he?"
It was a seemingly innocent question. Motor looked over the report, and found a name that he recognized. "An assistant medic, designation 'Ratchet'."
Ratchet.
Ratchet killed his bondmate.
Tanker's expression darkened, and he abruptly stood up. He refused to look at Motor as he spoke. "Thank you."
With that, Tanker stalked away, leaving the confused medic behind as he went.
Tanker noticed nothing as he walked, everything passing by him in a blur. He didn't notice when he exited the Medical Center, he didn't notice when he traveled down the dark streets of Protihex back to Iacon, he didn't notice when he rode the Monorail for two Joors all the way to Kaon, he didn't notice when he walked past the Gladiatorial Pits, he didn't notice when he entered his quarters, he didn't notice that he had been standing in the doorway for Breems.
Tanker collapsed to his knees, shaking. He was alone. He had no one. Nothing mattered to him. He lived for Skylight.
He had nothing to live for.
Tanker slowly stood up, legs shaking as he made his way over to a wall, and he sat down against it, not knowing what he could do. He stared ahead. What could he do? She was...
She was...
Tanker suddenly felt a weight in his hand. He looked down, and he saw a datapad. The one Voltlock had given him. He had forgotten to return it. He had forgotten to search for information on Skylight.
Guilt.
Tanker began to shake again. Maybe if he had found something, his bondmate would have still been there. It was his fault. He felt horrible. It was his fault. It was his fault.
Tanker felt his optics sting. Maybe he could still look. Maybe he could still save her. Maybe Motor had lied. Tanker knew that Motor had told the truth, but he had to try. He had to. He needed to try, he couldn't just give up on her. He couldn't.
Tanker activated the datapad, and he began looking through the many files stored on it. There were many categories. Medical files, from both medics and patients alike. Tanker found what he was looking for. Tanker opened the patient medical files, searching for someone in particular.
There was only one file on the datapad, and Tanker opened it up to see...
Skylight.
The pain in his chest returned at full force. Her file had all of her information on there. In the corner, there was a picture of her faceplate, smiling. Tanker carefully caressed the picture, his breath coming out short. Skylight was only a picture. There was nothing left. She was...
Gone.
Tanker wanted to look at the picture forever. It was the only way he could ever see her smiling face again. He couldn't let her go. He would never let her go.
Maybe if he had done something different, and if he hadn't brought her to the mine like he had said he would, maybe she would still be there.
Tanker had begun reading through Skylight's file. He already knew almost everything that was in there. The two of them didn't keep secrets. They told each other everything. There were so many things left out of the file. Tanker knew Skylight better than any Medical Database ever could.
Tanker remembered the first time he saw her.
He had been part of a mining detail in one of the lower sections of Iacon. No one knew the layout of that area, or its tunnels, so Tanker was sent to the Hall of Records to acquire a datapad with a map and scans of the underground. Tanker had never been to the archives before, so he didn't know what he was looking for, or how to find it. A bright blue and white femme came up to him and asked is he needed any assistance. Tanker hadn't expected anyone like her to help someone like him. He was a miner, one of the lowest class. Tanker refused her help, but the femme managed to find what he was looking for in less than a Klik.
They introduced themselves, and started a conversation that lasted much longer than Tanker intended, and he returned to the mines to receive a harsh scolding and restrictions, but he didn't mind. At the end of each following day, Tanker visited the Hall of Records of his own accord. He and Skylight quickly became close. The began to care deeply for each other. Skylight was the only one Tanker ever trusted, or who ever cared about him at all.
But, the mining detail ended, and Tanker had to return to Kaon. Tanker and Skylight believed that it might have been the last time they would see each other. Not wanting to say goodbye, they became as close as they could ever be.
They bonded.
Tanker was forced to leave, but the pain was dulled. He could feel her through his spark, and he wasn't alone anymore.
They hadn't seen each other in the longest time, when Tanker had been injured. The cables in his arm had dislocated, and he couldn't work for three Orbital Cycles. Tanker took that time to surprise Skylight with a visit, driving across the planet just to see her again. She was so happy to see him.
Tanker smiled at the memory, but that smile soon vanished when he thought about how he would never have any more. Not with Skylight.
Not with anyone.
Tanker reached the bottom of Skylight's file, where is summarized the event in the mine, and at the Medical Center.
'Skylight', femme archivist. Mine collapse, severe internal damage. Operation unsuccessful.
Tanker took a shuddering breath. Operation unsuccessful. That would have meant that the medics had tried. Tanker searched even deeper into the system, locating a file hidden away so it would be hard to find. Tanker pulled up a Medical File, but not a patients. He needed to know more about the one who made him lose her. Tanker opened up the file, and he glared.
Ratchet. The white and orange medic that wouldn't revive her.
It was his fault.
Ratchet killed her. Ratchet killed Skylight. Tanker could see a picture of the medic's faceplate. Tanker let his fingers dig into the screen as they trailed down, leaving marks similar to claws. He scratched across the Ratchet's picture, but the medic's file hadn't been damaged in the least.
Tanker roared, whipping the datapad at the wall, which dented the edges, but left the main screen unharmed. His optics became blurry, but he wouldn't let them leak. He wouldn't let that murderer have the satisfaction of making him lose control. He wouldn't lose control.
Tanker had to keep himself from punching the floor. He was angry. He was so angry, and he knew that Ratchet deserved it. Ratchet deserved to be hated. Ratchet took Skylight away from him. He took her away.
Tanker's breaths were heavy. His processor began running with ideas. His frame was beginning to overheat. He started making plans, though he didn't know if he was doing it himself or not.
Tanker stood up, slightly wobbly, and walked over to where the datapad had been tossed. He slowly picked it up, but he couldn't manage to make it back to where he had been seated. He fell to his knees again, holding the datapad in his hands.
The datapad glitched, and Tanker stared into the damaged screen as his fingers scratched across Ratchet's file once again.
"He will remember."
Tanker woke up screaming.
He was laying on the floor, forced into shut down from overheating. He was facing the roof, but that's not what he saw. It was pitch black. He could only see his bondmate, beaten and bleeding, staring at him with concern and disappointment. Energon dripped from her mouth, and the light faded from her optics. Tanker watched her die.
Lubricant was falling from his optics, trailing down the side of his faceplate. He was shivering, but he wasn't cold. He choked out a sob, and he made no move to stop it. His chest was empty, and he was so alone. She was gone. Skylight was dead. She was dead, and Tanker could feel the loss in his spark.
It was all the medic's fault.
Tanker sat up, rubbing his optics, trying to stop. He shouldn't be like that. Ratchet should be reduced to what he had just been. Ratchet was going to pay, and Tanker knew how to make him.
He had a plan.
Ratchet would pay.
Tanker knew that for his plan to work he had to go somewhere he really didn't want to go. He never wanted to see that place again. He wanted to stay as far away from it as possible, but he felt like his spark was tugging him back there. He had to go back.
Tanker got to his feet, much more stable than he had been earlier that Orbital Cycle. He left the datapad on the floor. He had enough information to proceed. He saw the map, he saw the schedule, and he saw the layout of the building. He had everything he needed. Tanker held himself high, and he left his quarters.
The streets were quiet. It was late. Tanker hadn't shut down for very long. It was still the day she died.
He shook his head, then began making his way towards where he wanted to go. No one seemed to notice him. That was good. He didn't want to draw attention to himself. Someone might catch on and try to save the medic. Tanker wouldn't allow it. Anyone who interfered with his mission was going to be taken down.
The Gladiatorial Pits were still loud, and the fight sounded the same as the last. Tanker could only hear the screams. He smirked. He knew he'd have to get used to that sound. Better get it over with early. But, Tanker had a job to do, and he was going to do it. He passed the Gladiatorial Pits, and he stopped in front of a place he knew all too well.
Suddenly he wanted to leave. He was beginning to change his mind. He didn't want to go in there. But he knew he had to. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself, before he stepped forward.
Tanker entered the mines.
The lights that had glowed to light the tunnels had gone dim after the collapse. They reactivated as he walked by them, making Tanker's path bright enough to find his way. He had worked in these tunnels for a very long time. He knew the mine as if he had lived there his entire life.
He also knew it had a secret.
Tanker walked to an area that he had never been in before, only heard of. It was said that it was the most dangerous area of the mines.
Sector D-16.
Tanker traced a finger along a crack in the wall, stepping over tools, and a large pile of metal. He noticed that many of the main tunnels hadn't collapsed. He refused to think too deeply about it, because he knew that he would only feel guilty. He shouldn't feel guilty. It wasn't his fault.
Tanker's hand met a large, flat part of a wall. Tanker paused, then his smirk grew. He had found what he was looking for.
He carefully picked up a nearby hammer, and after a moment, he slammed it against the wall. He heard a loud crack, and a small wave of dust fell from the roof. Tanker hesitated, looking around to see if another sector of the mine was going to collapse again, but everything quickly settled down. Tanker smirked, holding the hammer up once again, and thrusting again the wall, hitting it again and again, the crack growing louder with every impact.
With one last swing, a wave of dust flew forward and that entire section of the wall crumbled to the ground. Tanker tossed the hammer aside, and grinned at what he saw.
A weapons storage room.
Tanker grinned. How convenient that one was placed right next to the mine. Tanker stepped inside, carefully avoiding metal shards that he had knocked onto floor. Tanker looked around, taking in everything in the room.
There were weapons everywhere. Guns, swords, hammers, everything that Tanker could have imagined and more. Some of them were stained with Energon, and Tanker realized where he was. It was a storage room for Gladiatorial weapons. He was directly under the Gladiatorial Pits. He couldn't hear any fights, either because the last one had ended, or because he was too far underground to hear. Tanker shrugged, not really caring either way.
Tanker inspected each of the weapons, looking for one that was common, and therefor wouldn't be tied to him in any way. He looked through the many shelves of weapons, noting that they weren't put in any particular order. There were hammers, machine guns, wrecking balls, and many others.
Tanker saw only one arm cannon, far in the back, apparently unnoticed for a long time. It was powerful, but Tanker didn't care about that. It needed to be unnoticeable until it was used. Tanker glanced around again, when something caught his optic.
A laser rifle. A very common weapon in the Gladiatorial Pits. While it wasn't the most powerful, it would get the job done with great accuracy. Tanker smirked, walking up to the gun and placing a hand on it.
It would do just fine.
Tanker took a step back, and suddenly the glow of his optics intensified, enveloping the laser rifle with a blue light. The metal of Tanker's arm began to shift, and take the form of the weapon in front of him. Tanker finished the scan, leaving the original laser rifle unharmed and unmoved. Tanker glanced at his arm with interest. It had changed into an exact replica of the laser rifle. He smirked. He had what he came for. Tanker stepped out of the room, and began making his way towards the exit.
He heard something moving behind him. Tanker whipped around, the gun he had just scanned pointing directly towards the weapons storage. He supposed that whoever had come into the mines would be a great test subject for the weapon.
He couldn't see anyone. He looked down each of the tunnels, but there was no one there. Tanker stayed still for a moment, then he shifted the gun back into his hand, taking interest at the transformation. He had never had a weapon before.
Tanker heard another noise. He whipped around at the sound, staring at the large pile of metal. He blinked, unsure that what he was seeing was real.
The metal was moving.
Someone was underneath.
Tanker approached the pile carefully, pulling off the giant chunks of metal, which took a few Nano-Kliks, and once most of the debris was removed, Tanker's optics widened and he gaped.
A young mech, a sparkling, sat under the rubble, leg trapped under a large beam. His frame was mostly grey, but some slabs of armor were a dark purple.
Apparently the medics had missed someone.
Which was to be expected from them.
Tanker instantly knelt down next to the sparkling, carefully moving the beam off of his leg. The sparkling didn't even wince, which Tanker found surprising. Tanker forced himself to look normal and calm. He didn't want anyone to suspect that he was trying to avenge his bondmate.
Tanker got a better look at the sparkling after the beam was removed. He was covered in dents and scars, and some of them were old, clearly not obtained from the mine collapse.
There was a large gash across his chest, which looked very recent. It was stained with dry Energon, apparently having healed itself up as best as it could while trapped inside of a cave. It wasn't healed properly, and would most likely have to be treated by a medic. Tanker didn't care if the sparkling got help or not. That was not why he was there.
Tanker smiled gently. "What's your name?"
The young sparkling just watched him, clearly not trusting him at all. Tanker didn't know if the sparkling couldn't speak, or if he was just choosing not to, but he didn't care either way. But he did care about the fact that the sparkling was there.
Tanker couldn't believe that the Guilds of Cybertron had permitted anyone so young to work in such a dangerous place. The mines were not safe for a sparkling. He could have easily been offlined. The Guilds were corrupt, and Tanker could tell by the look in the sparkling's optics that he felt the same way.
He could easily take advantage of that.
"I'm going to the Protihex Medical Center," Tanker said slowly, and almost telling the truth. "I'm going to get Energon for the miners injured from the accident. Do you want to help me?"
The sparkling perked up slightly, though it was barely noticeable, when Tanker stated that he wished to help the victims of the collapse. The sparkling seemed to think for a moment, then firmly nodded. Tanker grinned, standing up and taking a step back as the sparkling stood up as well. The sparkling held himself high, almost as if being crushed hadn't caused him any pain.
"But, we need to stop somewhere first," Tanker explained to the sparkling. "I need to pick something up for a... friend of mine."
The sparkling frowned, but he nodded. Tanker nodded in return, then he began walking back the way he came.
The tunnels were not hard to navigate. The only difference than patrolling the mines and what Tanker was doing then, was that he wasn't there to work, and there was a small sparkling striding behind him. Tanker grinned. He had an extra set of hands.
The lights that had activated when Tanker walked by them suddenly shut themselves off. Tanker stopped short, wondering what had happened. He walked by one, but nothing happened, as if they didn't want to lead Tanker where he wanted to go. Tanker frowned, but he shrugged it off. He was already close enough that he could see the light of the outside. Tanker walked out of the mine, and once he took a few steps away from the entrance he looked back to see if the sparkling was still there.
Sure enough, the young mech was standing right behind him, waiting impatiently for him to lead. Tanker nodded again in acknowledgement, then started towards somewhere he had gone to almost every day.
They passed the Gladiatorial Pits, and Tanker noticed that the sparkling was listening to what was happening, but didn't seem to show any response to it. Tanker was confused by that, but he said nothing about it.
They continued walking, until they arrived at the Monorail Transport Station. It was oddly empty, which was perfect for Tanker. Less witnesses. Tanker let the sparkling enter first, then he followed, and the Monorail swiftly started moving.
Tanker and the sparkling rode the Monorail in silence, though the only difference between the silence before was that the sparkling was not Skylight. Tanker frowned, then quickly shook the thought from his processor. He needed to focus. Skylight needed him to focus.
The ride seemed much longer than ever before, even though it was actually shorter that usual. It felt like forever until the Monorail finally stopped, and Tanker got off faster than he had before. The sparkling didn't comment, though Tanker wasn't sure he could. The sparkling glanced around, and Tanker could tell that it was the very first time the sparkling had been in Iacon. Tanker gestured for the sparkling to follow.
They weren't going to stay in Iacon.
It took them a while, but they went down the streets of Iacon all the way back to Protihex. While Tanker wanted to go to the Medical Center as soon as possible, he had one last thing to do.
Protihex was easier to navigate than Iacon, so Tanker found where he was looking for very quickly. The streets were almost deserted, as no one wanted to bother them. It was never guarded, because no one would ever think of harming that place. Tanker didn't intend to harm it. He just needed something from it.
Tanker stopped in front of the entrance, not at all surprised by how large it was. There were supports in the passageway, though they didn't block the path. Tanker walked inside, the sparkling following behind him.
It was very dark, but Tanker could see a light coming from the farthest room. Tanker smirked, knowing that he was so close to what he needed to do.
Tanker and the sparkling walked into the giant chamber, and they both noticed that their chests began to feel rather warm. That was a normal Cybertronian reaction to finding their way back home.
They stood before the Well of Allsparks.
Tanker smiled. A real smile, for the first time since Skylight had been lost. He was home. But he knew he couldn't stay. He had to finish what he started.
Tanker looked down to the sparkling, and spoke. "I need to take a spark out of the Well."
The room grew slightly colder once he said that, but it was barely noticeable. The sparkling didn't respond to what Tanker had said, nor the sudden change in temperature. Tanker's smirk returned, and he walked up to the Well, looking inside.
The Well was full of life.
Sparks glowed everywhere, and their light was so strong that it took Tanker a moment to find a single one. He watched the sparks for a Klik longer, almost in awe at the beginning and end of Cybertronian lives. Then, Tanker remembered what he had to do, and he held his hand out close to the light, about to reach inside.
"Will it harm them?"
Tanker withdrew his hand, glancing around for a moment before looking towards the sparkling and wondering if he heard what he thought he heard.
The sparkling was staring up at Tanker, judging him. The sparkling waited for a response, and when he didn't get one, he spoke again. "If we take them out of the Well before they're ready, will it harm them?"
Tanker had to wait a moment to get over the surprise of the sparkling speaking to him, before he shook his head and answered. "... Of course not. They'll be just fine."
That was a lie. Sparks that left the Well before they were ready usually didn't survive. If they did survive, and that was only if they managed to get back inside of the Well on their own, they became defective, and defectives didn't survive long. Whichever spark they chose, would die.
The sparkling appeared to believe Tanker, and he stepped forward to peek into the Well. Tanker smirked, suddenly feeling very tired. "What's your name?"
The sparkling paused, looking back to Tanker with a frown. He seemed to think about it for a Klik, as it took him a while to respond. The sparkling eyed Tanker briefly before replying. "D-16."
Tanker blinked, then he let out a chuckle. "No, that's the mine sector where you worked. What's your name?"
The sparkling's frown deepened.
"I was never given a name," The sparkling said, looking back to the Well. "I was just a tool. I will not let them decide who I am anymore."
The sparkling glanced back to Tanker for a short moment, determination clear in his optics.
"My name is D-16."
Tanker watched the self-proclaimed D-16 with mild surprise, as he returned to inspecting the Well intently, looking for some way to get a spark out. The sparkling knew it wouldn't be as simple as reaching a hand inside and taking one.
D-16 glared into the Well, as the many sparks inside glowed with life. He didn't know which ones were newly formed, or which had been departed. He had never been told which were which, but he didn't care. They would all just be victims of the Guilds anyway. The miners needed Energon right then, and he was going to get it, one way or another.
Tanker reached into the light, and the sparks immediately spread away from his hand. He smirked slightly at the power he had over them, knowing that one movement he made could end a life that had never even began yet. He moved his hand around the light, and the sparks kept moving away from him. When he tried to grab one, it quickly slid out of his reach. Tanker frowned, trying again and again to snatch one out of the Well, but it was futile.
Tanker took a step back with a huff, not knowing what to do. He needed the spark for his plan, and they were wasting his time. D-16 rolled his optics, walking over to the Well and looking inside.
D-16 carefully reached into the light, and left his hand still in the center. The sparks moved away, just as they did for Tanker. Tanker smirked at the kid thinking he would be able to do something that even he wasn't able to do, then he noticed something that made his smile drop and optics widen.
One spark, the smallest of the ones close to the top, stayed where it was, not hiding away like the others. I was clearly the newest spark in the Well, the most recently formed, with a shine that only glowed from an unborn spark. Sparks that had rejoined the Well often stayed near the bottom, becoming one and merging together at the lowest point, while new sparks were drawn towards the outside. No one understood why. Scientists tried to find a reason for the behavior, as glow alone was enough to distinguish a new and old spark from each other, but they found nothing. The most common theory was that the old sparks were drawn closer to the core of Cybertron, though they still didn't know why.
D-16 remained calm and still, and he watched the newest spark with interest. Slowly, the spark drew near, as if it trusted him. Tanker watched the whole event unfold, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Eventually, the spark slipped right into D-16's grasp, and the young miner pulled it out of the Well without hesitation.
The spark began to flicker, it's light glowing frantically in an attempt to return to the Well. Soon, it's glow faded entirely, and D-16's optics widened. Before he could say anything, the spark's light returned, though not as bright as before.
Tanker grinned, holding out his hand and gestured for D-16 to hand him the spark. D-16 watched Tanker for a moment, before he placed the spark in Tanker's hand. Tanker nodded, holding the spark close, pretending that he would protect it.
"I need you to guard the Well while I step outside," Tanker said, still ever kind. "Can you do that for me?"
D-16 looked at Tanker in a way that clearly showed he could, and that he thought Tanker had a screw loose for even asking. Tanker's smile didn't falter. He turned around, then walked out of the chamber, stepping out into the light of the outside. Everything was almost in place. There was just one more thing.
Tanker dropped the spark on the ground in front of the Well entrance, not caring if he broke it or not. The spark flickered weakly, almost going dark for a moment before coming back strong. It was fighting to survive.
Tanker smirked. The trap was set. There was nothing more he could do. He just had to wait. He stepped back, hiding behind a support that held the wall up high.
It took nearly a Breem, which had Tanker's patience was growing very thin, when the shape of a femme made itself known. Tanker smirked. She was right on time. He waited for her to see, but as he waited, he saw that she hadn't noticed. Tanker grimaced. She needed to see. Tanker quietly raised a leg, then thrust his foot down against the floor, making a loud bang that resounded through the area.
The femme paused midstep, looking around for what had made the noise, when her optics caught onto a small light on the ground. She cautiously walked closer, fully coming into view. She had dark blue optics, and her frame was a dark burgundy color, with traces of red.
Rooter.
Rooter stared at the light in shock. It couldn't be what she thought it was. There wasn't any possible way.
She was staring at an unborn spark.
Rooter didn't understand how it could have ended up just outside of the Well. Rooter wanted to alert someone, but there was no one in sight. She thought about taking it back herself, but she was not authorized to do so. She didn't know what to do. She stood there for a Klik, looking very uncertain.
Slowly, Rooter knelt down next to the spark, ever so carefully taking it into her hands. It flickered harshly, and Rooter almost gasped. She stood up, then she gave one last look around for someone who could return it to the Well. There was still nobody there. Rooter frowned, concerned. She didn't know if what she was about to do was the right thing, but she didn't know what else she could do.
Rooter turned around, heading in the direction she was walking before.
Tanker's smile returned in full. His plan was working so far.
Tanker turned around, walking back into the chamber where D-16 was waiting patiently. D-16 glanced at Tanker's hand, and noticed that the spark was no longer there. He didn't ask about it.
Tanker spoke up. "It's time to go get the Energon."
D-16 nodded, and followed Tanker as the miner made his way out of the room, and into the outside.
Tanker and D-16 quickly caught up to Rooter, though they stayed far enough behind that she couldn't see them without looking for them. She was walking slower than usual, because she was extremely concerned. That made it easier to keep up with her. Tanker continued following her. After all, they were going to the same place.
The Protihex Medical Center slowly came into view. Tanker stopped, waiting for Rooter to enter so it wouldn't seem suspicious. D-16 stood behind Tanker, looking up at him with an unimpressed optic ridge raised. They stayed outside for a moment, then they began making their way inside.
Rooter was no where to be seen. Tanker growled quietly. He shouldn't have waited so long. He didn't know where she was. That could ruin his plans.
D-16 stepped in front of him. "The refueling station has an Energon stockpile."
Tanker blinked. He had forgotten why the sparkling had come with him. Tanker frowned, but quickly replaced the frown with a forced smile, and he led D-16 down a nearby hall, to the refueling station. There were many Cybertronians inside, most drinking from cubes.
D-16 was there because he wanted to get Energon for the injured lower class. But Tanker was only there searching for one mech in particular. It was highly unlikely that the mech would be there, but it was the only thing Tanker could do. It took him a moment, but when he finally spotted the mech Tanker grinned sadistically.
Ratchet was inside the refueling station, apparently waiting for something. Tanker didn't have to stand there long to find out what, because Rooter soon entered the room, and Tanker knew what was in the hand she clutched to her chest.
It was time.
Tanker walked into the room, D-16 following behind him, and they approached a brown and gold Energon sorter that stood in front of the stockpile. The sorter looked at Tanker lazily, not caring about what he had to say before Tanker even said it. None the less, Tanker spoke anyway.
"I am a representative of the miner caste," Tanker said, looking incredibly serious, as if what he was telling was the absolute truth. "We request that the Medical Center share their stockpile with us."
The sorter eyed Tanker up and down, obviously judging him. The sorter didn't even think about his answer before he gave it. "No."
Tanker faked his fury, yet for some reason he was very good at it. "And why the Pit not?"
The sorter looked unimpressed. "Because the Miner stockpile is to be used over the course of the Orn. Running out after only one Orbital Cycle is no concern or ours."
Tanker continued pressing, noticing that he had gained the attention of everyone in the room, including Ratchet. "The mine collapsed! Most of the Energon exploded during the cave in! We don't have enough to last a Breem!"
The sorter still didn't care. He crossed his arms. "As I said before, that is no concern of ours. This is the Medical stockpile. You'll have to wait until the next Orn for another delivery of Energon."
Tanker growled, glaring at Ratchet through the corner of his optics. As if to release pent up energy, he quickly decided what he was going to do. He led the D-16 away, then he turned back around. He shifted his arm into a gun, and ignored everyone's shocked gasps. Tanker smirked, then fired at the sorter.
Tanker knew that the sorter was going to dodge, so he quickly ran out of the room, taking cover in the hallway. An Energon explosion roared throughout the Medical Center, and it almost knocked the wall Tanker was leaning against down.
Tanker's audio receptors shut themselves off in an attempt to save themselves from overloading at the sound of the huge explosion. Tanker covered his head to try to keep himself from getting badly damaged. After a moment, his hearing returned, and Tanker slowly looked around the corner, into the refueling station.
It was a disaster. There were bodies everywhere. The lights had been blown out, which made it seem like it was night. There was so much destruction. Tanker smirked. His gun was very powerful. It would no doubt be useful later on.
Tanker stood up, looking at each Cybertronian frame in an attempt to find a certain one. It took a moment, but Tanker finally saw him. He wasn't moving.
Tanker felt very tired all of a sudden. Did he do it? Did he avenge his bondmate? Tanker tried to find an answer, but he felt no different. He felt like nothing had changed.
So he didn't succeed.
A mech ran up to Ratchet, and began trying to rouse him. Tanker remembered that medic. Tanker narrowed his optics as he tried to think of where he saw that mech before, then it hit him.
Motor. The medic that told him Ratchet was the one who killed his bondmate.
Motor helped the now conscious Ratchet stand up, and Ratchet suddenly looked concerned and seemed to ask Motor a question. Tanker frowned, unable to hear the conversation.
Tanker looked behind him, and saw that D-16 was there, alive and well, and he didn't even look surprised. Only angry. D-16 glared directly into Tanker's optics. "That would have helped the rest of the miners."
Tanker nodded. "I know, I know. Listen to me, there might be some left. Everyone's distracted enough for you to get in without being noticed. Whatever's left, you can take it."
D-16's frown did not disappear, but he listened to Tanker and strode inside of the refueling station, unseen by the injured or panicked Cybertronians there. Tanker smirked. He had gotten rid of the sparkling. Now he could be as violent as he saw fit.
Tanker looked around for Ratchet, but he couldn't find him. He growled again. He really needed to learn how to keep track of others.
He couldn't just waltz in there and ask someone if they'd seen Ratchet. They might recognize him as the one who blew up the Energon stockpile. Tanker kept looking around. His plan was failing again.
"What are you doing!?"
Tanker heard Ratchet's voice coming from farther in the room, behind an almost blown up wall. Tanker saw Ratchet holding his hand close to his chest. He looked very concerned. Motor was also there.
Motor said something too quiet for Tanker to hear, apparently trying to calm Ratchet down, though it didn't work, and Ratchet continued yelling.
"You're point?" Ratchet replied, protecting that spark with everything he had. "A life is still a life, even you should know that! You're a medic, for Primus' sake!"
Motor quickly hushed his fellow medic, leading him away from the area. Tanker made sure to follow before he lost sight of them. He didn't want to go through that again.
The two medics walked for a while until they were far away from the refueling station. Motor began speaking to Ratchet, and Ratchet frowned before replying.
"Slaggit, Ratchet, don't you understand!?" Motor suddenly scolded loudly. "Even the High Council tells us to extinguish unborn sparks! It has to die!"
Tanker blinked.
Ratchet had the unborn spark.
Tanker didn't know how he got it, and he didn't care. He was distracted with Motor getting in his way. Ratchet needed to be alone. Tanker needed to make sure that Ratchet was taken down the first time, because Tanker knew that if he messed up, Ratchet would know what he was trying to do.
Motor and Ratchet talked for a while longer, before Motor seemed to give in to something. Tanker watched as Motor walked towards a nearby wall, where a screen suddenly made itself known. Motor pressed a few spot on the screen, and to Tanker's surprise the wall began to shift and change until there was a large passageway. Tanker could honestly say he had not been expecting that. He didn't know that there was a passage to the Guilds of Cybertron in Protihex. Perhaps because it was close to Iacon. Just like the Well of Allsparks, there wasn't only one entrance. There were many, in multiple area.
Ratchet said nothing, only walking into the passage, the door shutting behind him.
As soon as the door was closed, Tanker came out of hiding. Tanker smirked lightly, slowly stepping up to Motor, whose optics widened in surprise.
"Hello," Motor said, clearly confused. "Weren't you in the Medical Center earlier this Orbital Cycle?"
Tanker nodded, still approaching the medic. "Yes. I'm just here to return a favor."
Motor raised an optic ridge, eyeing Tanker carefully. "Can I help you?"
"You already have," Tanker answered, finally halting his stride. His smirk grew, and he gave a short bow. "I didn't get a chance to tell you this earlier. Thank you for informing me of the mech who murdered someone that meant everything to me. I plan on returning the favor to him."
Motor's optics grew very large, and he stared at Tanker with his mouth open. He posture shifted slowly into a defensive one, standing slightly in front of the door to the Guilds. Motor attempted to calm Tanker down. "You don't have to hurt him."
"But he hurt her," Tanker countered, and after he said that Motor stepped directly in between him and the passage. Tanker frowned. He hadn't wanted to harm Motor, but he would have no choice. Motor was trying to stop him from avenging Skylight. Tanker stayed still for a moment, then he lunged forward, ready to punch.
Tanker had learned enough about fighting in the mines. There were a surprising amount of fights in the underground, and Tanker had to learn how to defend himself rather quickly. Only when attacking Motor did he feel like the training he did finally paid off.
Motor transformed his hand into a saw, and he raised it in defense. Tanker barely had time to dodge before Motor thrust his arms down and nearly slit a major Energon line in Tanker's shoulder. Motor swung again and again, faster than Tanker had anticipated. Tanker ducked to avoid an attack, which then sailed over his head, but he didn't have enough time to dodge a blow that hit him directly in his left leg. Tanker held back a wince as his leg became almost useless, just weighing him down.
Motor quickly began closing in, and Tanker only managed to evade another swing by moving a little ways behind the entrance to the Guilds. Motor slowed as he turned the corner, and he didn't have time to react before Tanker punched him in the face and sent him flying backward. Tanker quickly shook the pain out of his hand as Motor pushed himself back up.
Motor ran towards Tanker, saw held up high with intent to disable. He would not kill Tanker. Tanker was clearly having a processor meltdown, where he had trouble controlling himself, his thoughts, or his emotions. If Motor just cut a certain line on the back of his neck, it would quickly cut all Energon from the processor and knock Tanker out. Of course, Motor wouldn't kill Tanker. If the cable was reconnected immediately, the Energon would flow slowly back through the processor, leaving Tanker unconscious, but keeping him alive.
Tanker didn't know that Motor didn't intend to kill him. He could only see a threat that would prevent him from getting his, Skylight's, revenge. Tanker had no choice. He never tried using it before, but he had no choice. He wouldn't regret it, though. Skylight needed him to do it.
Tanker transformed his arm and shut his optics tight.
Motor froze in place, saw suddenly halting midswing above his head. He tried to move, only finding that he could not. His saw automatically changed back into his hand, which then fell limply to his side. He legs began shaking, barely managing to keep him upright. Motor slowly looked down, though he had trouble registering the gaping hole that had just been created through his chest.
Motor began to sway, and Tanker took that moment to stand up. Tanker quickly grabbed what was left of Motor's chestplate before the medic fell over, holding him up and glaring into his optics.
"If you were anyone else, I would have killed you right now," Tanker growled, almost throwing Motor onto the ground. Tanker took a deep breath, then he stood up straight. A calm smirk appeared on his faceplate, as if he had not just nearly beat someone to death. "But, you helped me identify my bondmates killer, and for that I am grateful enough to let you live."
If Motor appreciated the sentiment, he didn't show it at all. He attempted to reply, but he only coughed up an alarmingly large amount of Energon, and with a shuddering breath his optics fluttered shut.
Motor had lost way too much Energon, and he had been shot right through his chest. It was amazing that the blast didn't hit his spark. There was no way he would be able to survive without medical help, and even then he probably would be in stasis lock for millions of Solar Cycles. Tanker let out an annoyed groan. He would probably have to take Motor to a Medical Center. There was one just around the corner, but Tanker refused to bring anyone there, ever again.
Tanker would bring him to the Medical Center in Kaon. It was not as good as the one in Protihex, so no one would even think to look for him there.
The sound of grinding metal pulled Tanker's optics away from Motor's almost offline frame. Tanker practically spun as he faced the door, and saw it slowly open.
Tanker watched as Ratchet exited the tunnel, looking extremely tired. Tanker cursed under his breath that Ratchet didn't turn around and notice him, Motor's unconscious frame, or the huge pool of Energon just behind the entrance to the Guilds of Cybertron. He would have been able to take Ratchet out then and there.
It took a moment for Tanker to realize that Ratchet was no longer holding the spark.
Tanker grimaced. He didn't know what had happened, or how it affected his plans. Sure, he could always try again, but he didn't want all of the work he did that day to have been for nothing.
Tanker stood up once Ratchet was out of sight, and he walked over to the entrance to the underground. He was about to take a step inside when the door slammed shut. Tanker staggered backwards for a moment, surprised, before he frowned and shifted his arm into a gun he pointed to the door threateningly, prepared to fire before he realized something. There was probably a guard down there. If they heard gunfire, they would never let him in.
Tanker growled, transforming his arm back to normal and punching the door as hard as he could in his anger. The door creaked in protest, then slowly slid opened. Tanker paused, then he smirked. He knew that a door was no match for him.
He also knew that he had to get back into character.
Tanker took a deep breath, and stepped into the passage.
It was dark, but Tanker didn't care. He just had to get information. The lighting he received the information in didn't matter. He continued onwards, ignoring the groaning of the walls that seemed to say they didn't want him there.
Eventually, Tanker saw a light at the end of the tunnel, and a guard standing in front of a very large door. Tanker knew that the door led to the Guilds of Cybertron, and wondered if getting in there was the only way to get the information he needed. He let out an exasperated breath. He had hoped that avenging his bondmate would be easier than that. Shaking his head, he stepped into the light, where he could clearly be seen.
"Excuse me," Tanker said politely. The guard turned to face him, expression stern, and seemingly angry. Tanker feigned ignorance to that fact, and instead looked towards to giant door in front of him. "I have a friend, Ratchet, who just came here with an unborn spark, but I never got a chance to speak with him before he left. Would you mind telling me what has happened?"
The guard watched Tanker suspiciously, debating whether to tell the black and white mech the Guilds' ruling.
He thought it over. Was the miner dangerous? No. Could the information harm the Guilds of Cybertron in any way? No. Would the medic's life be in danger? No. Would the unborn spark be in danger? That didn't matter. It was wrong. It would be better for everyone if it would just extinguish itself.
"The Guilds have ruled that if the spark becomes defective upon being place in a protoform," The guard explained. "Ratchet will become it's official caretaker."
Tanker had to keep himself from smirking, but there was a mischievous glint in his optics that he couldn't hide. Tanker gave something similar to a bow as he stepped backwards. "Thank you for your assistance."
With that, Tanker turned around, heading back the way he came. The guard dismissed Tanker's sudden change in behavior, returning to his position in front of the door, keeping the Guilds protected. Tanker didn't care. His processor was already preoccupied with ideas of how to make Ratchet suffer.
Ratchet was going to be a caretaker, and what better way to break his spark than to take away the one thing he would care for?