A/N: And now, it is time for some L O R E. As always, feedback is appreciated.
As he aimlessly wandered through the halls of his old friend, Full-Tilt traced his hands against the ancient Titan. It was familiar, yet so jarringly different from what had once been Trypticon's alt-mode. The "Nemesis" as the ship had been named, was certainly a large vessel, however it still pales in comparison to his original base mode.
The Decepticons had been nice enough to him, so far, having given him energon and a room to rest in, but their greater motives, and overall scope of this "great war" they speak of, were still beyond his current understanding.
Megatron, the leader of these exiled Cybertronians, had requested to speak with him up to the bridge at whatever time was convenient for him. Full-Tilt, in no position to do much of anything else, obliged, and made his way to what he knew as the command centre of Trypticon's base mode.
. . . . .
"Ah, greetings once again, Full-Tilt. I take it that you have been well so far?" Megatron asked from where he was sitting as he noticed the City-Speaker stepping onto the bridge, placing down the datapad he had been reading.
"Trypticon may not be how I remember him, but I still feel at home in his presence. I must ask however, as to why you requested me here?"
Standing from his command chair, Megatron strode up to the central terminal, and brought up old video footage of Trypticon, as the great saurian Titan transformed out of his alt-mode during a battle of some sort, Autobot flightframes circling around him.
"In all the time we have known Trypticon, he has very rarely communicated with us. Aside from the occasional grunt of acknowledgment, and roaring battle cry, he has mostly stood by in silent allegiance to the Decepticon cause."
"He speaks no more? A shame, he could be a wonderful wordsmith at times," Full-Tilt interjected.
"Yes, and because of this, along with no means of reading his processor, like somebot such as yourself can, we have not been able to truly understand his personality. At least, other than an old grudge with Metroplex that is. I had hoped that you would be able to shed light on our friend's secretive past."
For the first time since his awakening, something of a smile appeared on Full-Tilt's faceplates."I would be more than happy to tell you the story of Trypticon." He said, sitting himself on the ground cross-legged, his staff miraculously levitating just above the floor as he placed it down in front of himself.
"Now, where to begin…"
. . . . .
In the ages of antiquity, in the early days of Cybertron, the metal world's surface had begun to become populated with those who had become newly sparked from the great wellspring of life, the Well of Allsparks.
Primus, the great creator of these Cybertronians, had since retreated into the Well himself, satisfied that this world would be safe under the watchful optic of his children, The Thirteen of Primus, or the "Primes" as they would be known as.
However, in time, a drastically different form of life began to emerge from the great wellspring. Until this time, it was the Predacons of Onyx Prime that were the largest of the Cybertronian races, but these new colossal beings made them seem almost miniscule in comparison. Standing unfathomably tall, their vastness unknown, these new Cybertronians were truly fitting of the name of Titans.
And as if by Primus' design, a Titan stepped forth for each of the Thirteen Primes, ready to serve as great defenders of Cybertron, and had a seemingly natural instinct to protect the people of Cybertron, their alternate modes serving as shelter whilst the fledgling planet developed.
However, dark days were soon to come, as what has come to be known as the Great Cataclysm fell upon Cybertron, as a flurry of meteors and debris pummeled the planet for centuries, killing off most life on the world. And in these times of death and despair, the Titans remained steadfast in their duty to protect.
The Predacons, having been the most isolated from the rest of Cybertronian society, were not well prepared for such an event, and many of their kind perished. Quick to heed the word of Onyx, he guided the few survivors aboard Chela, his Titan, in a desperate act to save his people. His brother, Micronus, followed suit, the Titan Prion taking the Mini-cons off of Cybertron at almost the same time as Chela's departure.
Caught up in the astral storm, Prion was forced to land not too far from home, on Luna-1. The whereabouts of Onyx Prime and his Predacons, however, would remain a mystery to the people Cybertron…
. . . . .
"That is… incredible," Megatron said, trying to write down as much as he could on a data-pad, although he had a suspicion that Soundwave was recording it all anyways. "Almost all records from these ancient times have been lost. None of us even knew what became of the Predacons, only that a few stragglers survived within the Titans of the other Primes."
"Yes, there were few remainders after the Great Cataclysm, and most of them simply tried to help rebuild the broken world. Tell me, do any still exist?" Full-Tilt asked.
"Only one, and only a partial Predacon at that. Deathsaurus, one of my most trusted generals."
"Well, that is very much a Predacon style name. I believe in their old language, it would be along the lines of Deszaras, although I never interacted with them enough to fully comprehend it."
"And I by no means wish to rush you, but you still have yet to reach where Trypticon's story begins."
"Ah yes, well you see...
. . . . .
Even after each member of the Thirteen had received a Titan of their own, Primus still saw fit to create more of these giants, even creating many new springs of energon as to properly accommodate his new creations.
And from this second batch of Titans, was one of the few that was clearly designed for combat, with a Predacon-like saurian root mode, and battle station alternate mode, Trypticon was born.
-The Past-
Looking on from a high clifftop, Megatronus watched on as the new Titan began to lumber it's way towards him. Usually, it was either Quintus' or Alchemist's duty to greet Titans in particular, however with them indisposed, he had been 'volunteered' for it by Prima.
"It resembles a Predacon of sorts, sir. Are you certain Onyx would not be better suited to meet them?" The young mech next to Megatronus asked.
"No, he's off making sure his people don't shred themselves apart. Besides, Full-Tilt, this gives us an excellent opportunity for you to practice your skills. City-Speakers are to be a very important aspect of our world should more Titans emerge." Megatronus reassured, firmly patting Full-Tilt on the shoulder.
As the new Titan made its way ever closer, quakes abounding with every step they took, it began to look around at the world with curious gaze, fresh optics taking in Cybertron before them, their matte grey, orange and teal colors shimmering in Hadean's midday light. Finally reaching the cliff, the Titan leaned down, placing optic level with Megatronus and Full-Tilt.
"Greetings there, youngspark," Megatronus greeted with a wave. "I am Megatronus Prime, and I welcome you to Cybertron. Tell me, what name and duty has Primus bestowed upon you?"
The fresh Titan stood unmoving for a moment, until it's optics reset themselves, and massive maw opened slightly to speak.
"I AM TRYPTICON," his voice boomed in the deep, almost ancient tone shared by most Titans. "AND I SERVE NOT THE PRIMES, BUT THE PEOPLE OF CYBERTRON."
"Ah, I see," Megatronus said, his sly grin obscured by his battle mask. "Then at any rate, I shall defer you to my associate here, Full-Tilt. He is no Prime, but a City-Speaker, and I am more than certain you two will get along splendidly," he finished. Yep, no way Full-Tilt was getting out of this now.
"CITY SPEAKER?" Trypticon questioned.
"Ah, yes, um, well..." Full-Tilt stammered, stepping forwards. "It is a new order, of sorts. A position meant for helping Titans communicate with the average Cybertronian. Although, it would seem that it won't be entirely necessary, seeing as you already possess much better speech than most Titans."
"A MENTOR WOULD STILL BE REQUIRED, AS I KNOW NOTHING OTHER THAN NAME AND PURPOSE. IF YOU ARE TRAINED IN WORKING WITH TITANS, THEN PERHAPS YOU COULD GUIDE ME FORTH," Trypticon said.
…
Far off across the shimmering plains, another Titan and their chosen watched on as Trypticon now lumbered away, presumedly taking Full-Tilt with them.
"I DO NOT TRUST THIS ONE. HE DOES NOT SERVE YOU AND THE OTHER PRIMES, THIRTEEN." The Titan said. The companion resting on his shoulder merely gave a short laugh at Metroplex's concern.
"Please, Metroplex, I'm certain they are a nice enough bot," the youthful Prime responded. "And you heard them just as well as I, they might not serve the Primes, but he surely serves Primus should his function be to protect his people."
Metroplex only growled, and thought it best to keep a watchful optic on this Trypticon, even if Thirteen was against it.
The years passed by, Cybertronian society growing steadily, up until the Great Cataclysm. However, even after such ruinous disaster, hope was not yet lost, as the world rebuilt itself anew. Unfortunately, such times of prosperity could never truly last, not on a world forged from war like Cybertron. Nobody had seen the betrayal coming, when Prima struck down Thirteen, and Megatronus' sacrifice to save a gravely injured Solus. With three Primes dead in one day, some Primes began to turn on each other as well, while the others began to go the way of their brothers Onyx and Micronus, and ventured beyond what they saw as a now tainted Cybertron, bringing a shard of the Allspark to seed their destined planets with Primus' light.
All, except for Trypticon and Metroplex.
Filled with great grief for the death of his closest friend, Metroplex descended into madness, and began to take it out on the people he once swore to protect, but also the one he had always been wary of, Trypticon…
"He had thought that because Trypticon swore to protect the masses instead of the Primes, that he was the one at fault for the death of Thirteen. It took unfathomable power to finally disable Metroplex, and I cannot say how long such a feat took us to accomplish. In the many ages after the War of the Primes, we did the best we could to help rebuild once more, and helped protect the innocent in times of war.
"As the times marched further on, Cybertron became stable once more, under the rule of Nova Prime. His forces were that of such strength, they had no need for our protection any longer, and so Trypticon and myself went dormant, and from there I assume that you know the rest." Full-Tilt finished.
"Incredible…" Megatron said after a moment of silence. "So much history, lost to time. I thank you deeply for sharing such information with me. And I can't help but feel I've offset you, as you were clearly good friends with my namesake." he said apologetically.
Full-Tilt merely held up a hand at the notion. "Do not feel you must apologise. Megatronus would have been humbled to know his sacrifice still carried weight in the modern world," Full-Tilt said, pulling out an amulet with the bright red emblem of his lost friend, inspecting it with a somber smile.
"With Cybertron fallen to a tyrant who reminds me much of Prima, and Trypticon having already joined you and your Decepticons, it would seem that I will do the same. You have shown nothing but kindness to a stranger, and are a very honorable mech, I cannot allow a debt to go unpaid."
"If you are certain of your desire to fight by our side, then I am pleased to welcome you to the Decepticons," Megatron said, as the two shook on it as they stood, and Megatron began to explain the formalities of one joining the Decepticons.