The Secrets of the Cyber Worlds: Short Stories of the Past and Present
Mourning Becomes You
He loved seeing them squirm. The pity was there but not out of mercy. As his sire told him, they were nothing but low-life scum, and they were only good for what he made them to be.
Mourningstar gazed possessively at the dancers before him. They weren't his but he wanted them to be. Velocitron had so little enjoyment other than racing, but racing could only have so much to keep one entertained now and days. Maybe that was just him. He sneered as the mechs and femmes showed off their frames. There was a lot of money that could be made in the profession, that's for sure, but the resources to pull it off he had not in his possession. But one day that would change. He would make it so.
"Don't tell me you're still hooked on that get-rich-quick scheme with the whole dancer idea," his friend, Asphalt, said. "You know what Torque will do to us if he catches us."
"Torque and his lackey, Springboro, are nothing but a cowardly lot. They only care about the preservation of the Velocitronian ways, not their people. All he would come down on us for is because we're more successful."
"If we are. Look, your plan is deranged. Do you know how many ripples this stunt can pull? If you were to build a club like you claim, everyone with moral ethics is going to be hunting you down. They don't like this stuff on Velocitron. You know that," the black and turquoise mech said.
Mourningstar tore his gaze away from a mech who went down on his stand lower than was appropriate, not that he was complaining, and began walking out to the room he had booked with Asphalt in tow.
He then laughed, "What if I want to start trouble? Think about it, Asphalt. A ripple effect indeed but who said it would work in Torque's favor? You start from the bottom, from nothing, you're ignorable to the higher ups because who would want to waste time and resources monitoring a little petty criminal. Keep low but build up your empire piece by inconspicuous piece until the right moment you are untouchable…then you make yourself known. There will be nothing Torque could do because it would be too late. The seeds of dismay would be sown into the fabric of society and therefore unchallenged. Debtors repay me with what they believe their pathetic little lives are worth or suffer the consequences."
Asphalt paused and frowned, "You aren't just planning to buy a few prostitutes and make bank on them, are you?"
Mourningstar slowly grinned with his back towards Asphalt before turning around. "Maybe not."
His friend slowly shook his head and said, "That…Mourningstar, you're not seriously thinking about what I think you are. No, do you know how wrong that is?! I-I know you work with a debt collector's guild, but I thought you were joking about them! That's too far!"
Mourningstar sighed uncaring, "A price to pay for inconvenience to me. Are you in or out, Asphalt, because I intend on doing this with or without you."
His seriousness reverberated harshly among the quiet room. Asphalt seemed at a loss of what to think. As Mourningstar examined a bobble in the shape of a miniature trophy, he knew he had no choice in the matter. Mourningstar was not someone that liked the word "no."
"Alright. Do what you wish."
Mourningstar's grin only grew wider as he palmed the useless decoration. "You shall see, Asphalt, exactly what I am capable of."
In the span of a few thousand years, Mourningstar had his due. He went after the in-debt bots first, those who owed the company he worked for to fool them into repaying by selling more than just stock. He made sure the weight of their debt matched what they gave and if they ran, they were hunted down. In the years befallen, Mourningstar was a threat. His ring of crime only grew bigger to match his crooked soul. By the time anyone knew a fraction of what was happening, the damage was done. Torque had lost his power and Override, the planet's new leader, was left chasing breadcrumbs leading to false ends.
Mourningstar built his empire in the underground, forming a twisted market. They weren't dancers like he wanted; they were far more precious. A following in his name grew tenfold within more year as he employed all who agreed with him and all loyal to his cause. Collectors, as he called them, retrieved his precious cargo to sell and use to his liking. A symbol of his ring of power reflected in a design of Asphalt's own make, one he made sure to give all his followers out of confidence in the form of a seal pendant. His ego grew to match, believing himself untouchable. Years of work now beheld by a pristine stage and those who couldn't pay selling themselves as he decreed. Mourningstar was proud of his empire, a growing stain on Velocitron's not-so-perfect surface. He liked it as such. It insulted the norm.
Override was probably having a stroke by trying to figure out his grand scheme, as if it was hard? Now, that was a femme he wanted down in his berth. Tough, brash, and able to control the masses as the fastest Velocitronian hence her current position. Mourningstar wouldn't settle on anything less than the best for himself while his buyers got the secondary stock. It was an ideal dream, one he didn't regret in his personal time.
Asphalt stayed with him through and through, which he appreciated, but Mourningstar was no fool. He knew the mech was not pleased with what he did. Quite a bad time to grow a conscience, in his opinion.
As Mourningstar sat on his office chair watching the transports with his new cargo arriving and being unloaded, relishing their terrified and angered expressions, he spun to look at his friend who stared blankly at the femmes and younglings that had been rounded up. "Poetic, no? An orphanage out of funds. Well, I'm not heartless. The children will be more than looked after but their caretakers and their president…"
Asphalt looked sick while Mourningstar glanced back down with a lustful grin as a busty femme was forced out of the transport. The younglings with her followed her like lost ducklings clinging to her afraid. Mourningstar knew what Asphalt thought of him and his desires; he didn't care.
"I'll be sure to give them a little test drive. After all, can't be selling faulty stock to the customers."
Asphalt grimaced unpleasantly, "This isn't right."
Taking a drag off a metal cigar, Mourningstar scowled, "You can't take back what you've done so don't pretend like you're so innocent. Why does this bother you now anyways? You didn't say anything when I shut down the bar and took their tenants. Where was your morality when I bribed those dancers to work for me only to use them like the whores they are. You were there; you did nothing."
"And it's been eating me up every time! Do you know how hard it is to look the other way while people are sold into slavery for interface and possibly other terrible things?!"
Mourningstar frowned offended at first before replying mockingly, "Uh, I prefer it to be 'recalled freedom' as they had their chance but didn't pay their fees therefore, they squandered the basics of living. Their lives are mine, so their future is as well. That's how the world works. You can't live in it for free-"
"But they still have the right to live! Recalled freedom, or whatever you want to convince yourself it's called, is not a life."
Mourningstar was unmoved, only raising a brow. "Then, there's nothing I can do."
Asphalt started shaking his helm distraught before snapping, "I can't pretend anymore. You aren't the mech I cared for, who I wanted to start a business with and who I thought I knew. I just wanted to own a dance joint! You went way too far! I can't-I can't sit by and do nothing anymore! That's what I've been doing while you have been building this nightmare! I-I'm done! I can't let you do this any longer!"
The tenderness in Mourningstar's face drooped to an unreadable neutral frown, one Asphalt couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking. Mourningstar himself stayed blank, glaring at him before instantly changing his tune with a deadpan, "Fine then. Leave."
The response was barren of emotion, but Mourningstar just kept staring intensely. Asphalt was uneasy and wanted to retort but found it best to simply walk away. He turned his back on the red mech…
A sudden shout had Asphalt whipping around too late when he was struck by a weapon unseen. Energon splattered on the office as he collapsed on the ground, his jaw broken and bleeding. Mourningstar huffed like demon, gripping a paperweight on his desk that was now missing pieces with utmost fury. As the black mech whimpered, the other began to darkly chuckle.
"You think I'm just going to let you walk out on me? Give hints to the dear Override's security? Now, how fair would that be, letting her cheat? I like keeping her guessing. I don't want you breaking that. And if you're done with our friendship, I won't regret this as much as you think."
Before Asphalt could speak, he was repeatedly struck, blood thrown everywhere. Then Mourningstar seized his throat and dragged him out of his office. Down the stairs and into the back area, he didn't care for Asphalt's struggling. He was tossed onto the stage where debtors were sold and gestured to the curious crowd beginning to form. He cut in line of a restrained mech who was supposed to be auctioned off for slouching on shop payments but with Mourningstar as the ringleader, his interruption was heeded respectfully.
"Bots of all types, it seems we have a traitor who wants to rat out our happy little business! Well, I can't have that happen, so who wants to show this mech some manners? He seems to not appreciate life as much as he should. So, starting at a good…five credits, I'm give him up as a clearance price for anyone who wishes for a quick and easy, little…slave."
Mourningstar hissed that last word down at Asphalt with a sinister smirk and utter cruelty. Asphalt, broken and bleeding, cowered in place on the stage floor. Then the bids started to come in to his delight and Asphalt's horror as the latter was restrained with stasis cuffs by his followers.
"10 credits!"
"50!"
"100!"
The prices went higher as Mourningstar cackled, grabbing Asphalt's helm roughly and sneering a whisper. "You see, Asphalt, everyone has their price. If you don't pay it, you become it."
The current pitch was up to 7,000 in record time, now the quarry between a femme and a mech. Finally, the mech burst out, "10,000!"
The femme didn't reply and waved off her chance to go higher. Mourningstar laughed among himself before counting down to see if anyone else dared to challenge the bid. The mech of 10,000 had no contenders.
"Sold! To the mech with the green racing stripes. You certainly will have a fun time breaking him, so I commend you for your purchase! My associates will touch him up for you in a moment and he's all yours! A pleasure doing business with you! And now, without further a-do, back to your regularly scheduled buyer's market."
Mourningstar gave Asphalt a growling smirk, one that left Asphalt trying to yell as his broken jaw failed him. Mourningstar would make sure he was fixed up; he just enjoyed beating him for his traitorous turn. He couldn't stand traitors. They had better use elsewhere and frankly, he didn't give damn what Asphalt was used for. His empire would last forever, and no one was going to get in his way as long as he still functioned.
He walked off the stage to let his bidder carry the rest of the sales as he retreated to the office. Now that he was in a peculiar mood, he thought whether he should have waited to sell Asphalt and instead use the bastard himself. But he could compensate anyone. He had his choices. He remembered the orphanage president, a fair femme. Yes, she would do nicely. He turned a paperweight over his digits with a toothy grin just thinking about it.
It was humorous to him how far he had come. From two wannabe business owners to a trafficking king of Velocitron. He marveled at the progress and wondered how much sleep Override was losing over the disappearances. For now, he was in the clear. There was no place for mourning his victims because today, they were his to control.
Life went on and he used the cycle as such to benefit. It wasn't his fault others would pay a good price for the company. Where there was money, he would be prepared to make every credit offered at the expense of lives so useless. Asphalt learned today of this motive, and there were many more bots out there he knew would pay to stay out of his reach. One way or another, he would win.
Sunshine and Rage
Blurr tapped her shoulder playfully. "Alright, girl, let's see your war face! Are you ready to beat those track hogs?"
Road Rage was still and neutral before giving the largest smile known on Velocitron. Blurr was taken aback by it, and she only snickered.
"Not the war face I was expecting but I'm scared."
She punched him softly, "Quit teasing. I can be vicious."
The speedster then got serious. "Yeah…listen, promise me you won't break no matter who says what?"
"I won't. I promise, Blurr," she said assuring.
"That's what I like to hear. Channel the beast at the end to get that win, not a moment before. Alright? I really want to see you win out there. Win this race and the Speedia 500 is yours."
The bubbly red femme hopped in place excited as the qualifying races for this year's Speedia 500 championship was upon Velocitron. The annual big race wasn't just a mere tournament challenge. It was the race to determine if the leader of Velocitron could hold her title and the qualifying races were hard. Road Rage was confident though. Granted, she never got close to victory after the qualifying races as she had a slight…issue.
The race took off less than ten minutes later, and Road Rage was keeping a steady length behind the leaders the majority of the time. She was a little slow on the curves but hauled on the straights. XP gained on her as she sped around Dreadnaught Speedway trying to overtake Jetwheel on a tight turn and keeping her tailgater from having a window. The Roller Twins weren't far behind, nasty punks of the track, and Hotspire was somewhere she couldn't see.
She laughed enjoying the ride mostly, her teammates understanding of her abnormal enthusiasm and played along with it sans a few. It didn't bug her that she wasn't taken seriously, nor did she truly race to win. In the end, she loved the race itself. Her small truck mode roared upon the track, and the hot atmosphere was unnoticeable among her speed.
They were the common racers of the track, hunting the chance to be even the world leader. She didn't have much to fear from the Jetwheel. He didn't care to take the Velocitron throne. Hotspire talked more than he performed, XP always had trouble in the finals against the fastest bot and Override's friendly rival, Blurr, and the Roller Twins had egos that did better at driving than they did. Road Rage had her own disqualification.
The Roller Twins were storming up with their typical nonsense, bullying the track members by using their "double trouble" maneuvers. It allowed them to throw off their opponents greatly. As they approached Road Rage, she began frowning inwardly. She was already having to lag behind Jetwheel teasing her by threatening to brake check her, and the pursuit of the twins didn't help. Her engine was being pushed to counter their speed but the ganging up on her was driving her on the brink.
"Have to be faster than that, Rager!" One twin said getting nearly side by side with her on a straight section. The second twin was riding her bumper and finished the other's mockery with, "And we don't like being behind slow traffic!"
She tried her hardest to ignore them but they kept talking...and talking...and TALKING! Her color scheme began to change, darkening with her faint red stripes now prominent black. Stream blew out of her front grill as her headlights slowly converted to red. The edges of her metal flared in fractions like barbs appearing out of her armor.
XP wisely braked slowly away and Jetwheel moved to the side to let the three pass. Hotspire all but disappeared from view going behind XP. Anyone in front of the group or behind kept their distance.
XP yelled, "Boys, get off her tailpipe!"
The twin behind her snickered, "What's she going to do? Run us off the road?"
Road Rage didn't say a word. Suddenly, she slammed on the brakes, pushing the twin behind her swerving sideways and tires screeching as he lost control. His front end had a sizable dent in its hood and grill. The second twin on her side tried to back off but she slammed into his side, forcing him to drift and to the right before he abruptly rolled thrice and roughly landed on his tires with a damaged roof.
An alarm sounded on the track forcing all racers to a halt when they reached a safe place to do so.
"Contact on the southern end of the track. The Roller Twins have both been struck by Road Rage. Let me tell you, folks, the name is sometimes given out of warning. Unfortunately, there will be a penalty for this action. The track management will convene to determine the judgement on this incident shortly."
Road Rage fumed and growled as two track cars rolled up beside her, flashing their lights briefly to get her to follow them off the course as a third rally car had the racers following them one by one back into their initial positions while a few medics made sure the twins were alright. They had minor dents but were otherwise their normal, arrogant selves.
The furious femme transformed, her appearance tense and spiked with her fangs out and optics fully red. A few of the race officials guided her to a solitary room where her personal trainer, Iceliner, was waiting for her. He quickly stood in her path despite the danger and began soothing her by speaking to her. The officials and escorts didn't dare interrupt the process in case of repercussions.
"Okay, looking at me, breathe! Think of the Helio-horses and the gill-gliders! The pretty foals with their manes aflame. Calm…breathe…exhale."
Road Rage at first snorted in an attempt to breathe like he instructed, her vents fuming but as she remembered the pretty foals that could be found on Velocitron's plains, her irate form slowly huffed quieter and her blood red optics looked regrettable. After fifteen minutes of constant breathing exercises and following her trainer's lead, the demonic Road Rage transformed back into her normal self, holding her head distorted and saddened. She gave a brief animalistic whine as she peered around. Her trainer smiled at her and patted her shoulder.
"Better?"
"Ah, yeah, aside from the headache…" she tried to laugh, rubbing her forehead.
"You know what you did, right?"
Road Rage groaned, "I…hurt them, didn't I?"
Iceliner made a neutral frown and sighed, "You could have severely damaged them, yes, but it's no secret of their instigating. You have to learn how to control that anger. Your creator had the same issue and it consumed them."
She peered around at the bots who pitied her. The power she had, although rare, was not the first of its type. While most bots could channel their emotions into burning rubber to supercharge indestructible counters, some had rarer abilities like her, able to change physical form or, in some cases, manipulate their weapons and vehicle modes themselves. She had partial vehicle manipulation but not the common speed. Her invulnerability was a darker power some bots had but many feared. It was only when she was enraged would it occur, and it brought out her darker impulses.
As the race continued from what she could hear, Road Rage was then approached by the race director of the central region, Skidside. The fancy blue designs among the yellow-orange blended scheme of the femme showed off the funds she had won in prior experience racing the big leagues as well as her current line of work. Her presence made the smaller red femme bow her head guilty of her actions. Even Iceliner couldn't help her.
"Road Rage, correct?" Skidside asked.
"Y-Yes, ma'am," she replied nervously.
The director wasn't pleased but it also seemed from Road Rage's point of view she didn't like what she needed to say. "The officials and I are aware of certain unsportsmanlike behaviors in our league from various associates but when it comes down to severity of everything, certain forms of it must be taken into higher consideration. Exchanged words are one thing, but actions unfortunately hold greater accountability. Investigations will pend shortly but unless the banter is caught in the moment or for witnesses outside the active sport to hear, there's not much I can do other than deal currently with what I saw on the track today."
Iceliner and everyone who knew Road Rage personally knew the judgement and all were displeased, but their opinions were not equal evidence for Road Rage to get off on any consequences. Road Rage had saddened, puppy eyes but it wasn't to get out of her predicament. It came naturally with her demeanor.
"Road Rage, it has been decided that you shall forfeit the remainder of the Master Speedia tournament and consideration of eligibility will be in play for the next circuit of races for the Canyon Run and Ballistic tournaments as well." Skidside's expression lightened with a flicker of remorse. "I understand that you aren't a bully or even remotely close to your angry persona, but I must follow protocol. Don't think this is personal. It's just my job to keep the races as safe as possible…even for the jerks that deserve what they get."
Skidside's words were final, leaving Road Rage there to sigh. Iceliner shook his head and moved closer once the director and her officials left.
"It's alright, Road Rage. There's always next time."
She shrugged. Yes, there was but the judgment hurt nonetheless. When she left to watch the race, it came down between XP and Jetwheel. Iceliner watched with her as XP was determined to keep the lead pushing himself to his max speed at the last possible corner. He nearly drifted out of line but managed to hold it together. Head-to-head, wheel to wheel, the two were pushing over 600 kilometers per hour. Their engines boomed with accelerated power. By several inches, XP hit the end and the crowd went wild.
"And XP, Xeropoint, is your champion today! What a race! XP has won!"
Road Rage's mood changed on a dime, happily cheering for XP with the crowd. She was screaming excitedly so loud, Iceliner had to cover his audios but still held a smirk over her sudden shift in demeanor. XP slid and did a few donut maneuvers in celebration before going to the Winner's Stage. His peers met him there as did Road Rage but instead of immediately accepting his medal, he spotted and ran to her.
"Road Rage!" XP yelled concerned, "Is everything alright?!"
When he reached her, she didn't look a bit upset or downtrodden. The femme gleefully hugged him to his surprise and lifted him as she stomped the ground.
"You won, XP! Congrats!"
XP laughed a little before gripping her shoulders once he was let go. "Yes, but what about you?"
"Oh, it's nothing. I just got banned from the tournament. It happens," Road Rage replied too happy for XP's liking.
"O-kay…?" He shook his head, "You are a strange one. But I'm glad you're taking this well. I'll see you on the track for practice, right?"
She pushed him lightly towards the stage and laughed, "Of course, now go enjoy your victory, dear!"
Spotting Blurr and Override looking down at her with consideration, she happily waved to them, all smiles and no sight of her depression. Although it did sting to not be included, Road Rage still found comfort in knowing her friends could still race. And she planned on cheering for them the entire rest of the way.
The Limit
A nightmare. That's what it felt like to her.
Override sped through Traction City; its buildings bombarded with malicious gunfire. She drifted around a corner with her tires screeching heavy on their spinning. An explosion of a wayward missile landed a hundred yards from her position. Bots were running, some fearful and others towards battle with the fury of their engines roaring as loud as thunder. It was drowned considerably even against the explosions already a deafening rumble. In all her years, she had never seen such carnage.
A secondary engine echoed and suddenly revved loud enough to dampen the noise around her. She grew alert as a red and gold, silver-streaked speedster ripped on an overhead pass and jumped off a damaged part of it above Override. She barely saw the leap and swerved to not get crushed by the swift fall. The enraged form of Ransack hit the ground hard, wheels bouncing and still ripping the pavement despite slowing slightly from the motion. He trailed after her sliding and skidding.
"Override!"
The red and white vehicle did her best to evade Ransack, racing through the city like hellions. But this wasn't a race; this was survival.
Drifting on a street that moved onto a bridge toward the southern highway, Override grew unnerved having Ransack on her tail with no room for errors. The metal road twisted and turned around the city to its designated direction. Ransack hit her rear, nearly causing her to lose control. She was so used to the rules of the track, the no contact policies, that briefly she forgot outside of it, anything went, especially in war.
The civil war of Velocitron was horrendous. Although she had boasted she could handle it, a part of her wasn't sure anymore. Millions of years of their culture, nothing but fast-paced racing and pompous trophies, prepared no one, not even her, for the outright horrors war could produce. She wasn't mentally ready for the true bloodshed. She thought it would be simple to stop Ransack…she was wrong.
Ransack hit her rear bumper again, this time speeding up with it attached. Her wheels started losing traction as his pushing had her rear getting caught on his stylized bumper guard and lifted her off the road to where she only had her front wheels touching ground. Her vehicle form couldn't navigate well, threatening to swerve which she knew that's what Ransack wanted. Her direction slowly shifted to an unwanted right angle, her rear beginning to falter and lean trying to turn which would destroy her left rear wheel and give Ransack the ability to overturn her.
"No more running, Override! No more thinking you are anything special or making everyone believe you are their savior! I've run second place to you for too long! I will be the winner this time!" Ransack yelled.
Her rear left was tilting downward towards the road, her hubcaps almost grazing it. She could hear him growling as he then aimed her at a low ridge. If she hit it, she feared she would pop over it…just like what happened to her dear friend in Barren Heights and fall over a hundred meters to the planet surface to a very hard death. No, she wouldn't allow that. Ransack would NOT beat her on the track or here!
"No…you…WON'T!"
Override knew it was risky. Instead of letting her wheels drift, she suddenly made a sharp turn to her left. Her rear got caught again but was secured by Ransack. The maneuver threw him off and started to force his front to shift left. Override then switched right, a move that tore a piece of her bumper off but sent Ransack hitting the barrier and allowed her to break free. She struggled to regain control at her shock at the success of it, but she didn't dwell on it. As soon as she was on stable road, she floored it while Ransack smacked his left side twice, paint scratched profusely with sparks emitting from impact both times.
Override let her engine roar, not daring to let Ransack gain on her. She didn't care how much strain it put on her. With Ransack in hot pursuit, she had no other choice but to keep driving. Stopping would be fatal in both robot and vehicle modes from how fast they were both pushing. She didn't even notice how fast she was going until her HUD gave a warning. High engine heat. Her speed surpassed even the normal limit for a racer. It was in a dangerous red text in her vision. Overheating…
Internal Engine Failure Imminent.
"No, not now!"
"OVERRIDE!"
Internal Engine Failure Imminent.
Four hundred miles an hour and soaring ever higher to the point where Ransack began lagging behind at the horrible expense of the repeated warning. She wanted to make sure he could never follow her.
Racing within her means had never occurred to her the speed she pushed then was not even close to her boundaries, but the turns and the jumps required precision that, if not taken right, could spell disaster for any racer. They were cautious and never realized it when they were on the track. Here and now, there were no boundaries and ultimately, she found out very quickly what her true capacity was. She hated knowing it. She was supposed to be the fastest racer…but her engine was close to bursting.
Ransack finally yielded when an explosion his way made him divert off course and down a ramp, but Override couldn't stop. He would come back! He would come back! He would-
Her grill jolted with fire as multiple warnings littered her HUD, and Override was forced to a halt. She transformed and rolled uncontrollably, her back scraping the road and left her plating with ugly streaks. She managed to stabilize herself on her servos and knees but stayed immobile breathing heavily as her vents produced smoke. The smell was nauseating.
"Override!"
The panic rose for a moment as she thought Ransack had come back but to her relief, a familiar friendly face graced her throbbing vision. Rockhill, or Rockahilly as everyone called him, came driving towards her, transforming a few feet to kneel beside her. Young Zoomkill and Silverstreak followed behind.
The yellow and orange striped mech's voice sounded so faint as her systems needed to recover. The stress of her engine was forcing her into a stasis shutdown. She saw Rockahilly's fearful stare, and he held her as she sank into his grip, his voice fading considerably.
Rebooting…
Override opened her optics and noticed instantly she wasn't in a medical facility or her home. She was on a berth near medical supplies and a small Energon storage. Rockahilly's farm was a lot humbler than the buildings she was used to. She could recall with a small smile how easy it was for him to build a mansion from a pile of rubble. His engineering skills never faltered after all these years…
"Awake, darlin'?" His kind voice was a symphony to her audio receptors. His nicknames were common; everyone knew he just had that habit. She was used to it back in his service to the Velocitron government. He walked into the large room and grabbed some elixirs from the shelves. "How are you feelin'?"
"Like I just combusted, and my organs were burning like coals."
Rockahilly reduced a smirk at the self-depreciative comment and said, "You went past your limit. Very rare any bot finds it. You're lucky. Had no one found you after your engine burst, it would have caused a backfire straight to your spark. I managed to cut off the power temporarily to your engine and repair it while you were out the past week, but you can't be usin' it for a few days unless you want to risk it happenin' again even at a lower speed. What were you speedin' from that made you go that fast?"
"A whole week? Dammit." Override then frowned, saddened as she closed her optics. "Ever since the Cybertronians came, Ransack got bold and this war...I thought I could handle it, handle him, but..."
"But Velocitronians aren't made for conflict. Easy livin', easy life. All play, no work as we used to say, right?" Rockahilly side eyed her uncertain before walking up to her berth and offering her a coolant concoction that helped with the engine burn. "Ransack is the type of bug that waits until the opportunity presents itself before strikin'. He has been preparin' to kill you, I assume, for some time to take your position since he couldn't take it on the track. Those Decepticons chasin' the Autobots must have givin' him an incentive to pursue his vendetta against you."
Override sat up glumly. "Everyone expects me to hold my promise to win this war. What am I supposed to do?"
Seeing him go dead serious was a bit unnerving as Override knew he only became that way if he had no other choice. Rockahilly was pondering, a deep regret forming as he slowly shook his head. She knew what the verdict would be, but he didn't want to admit she should do it...not after what he did himself.
"I-If you don't want me to-"
"Kill him," he said without missing a beat. Looking at her now straight in the optics with a faint regret hidden beneath it, he repeated sternly, "Kill him...if it means protectin' Velocitron. Sometimes we do terrible things, but it doesn't make us terrible people, Override, just makes it a little complicated explainin' our reasons why."
She peered down in pity knowing what he was getting at underneath his meaning. She could see it, how he mourned inside.
"You knew what it meant when you won all those years ago and took on the role of the leader of Velocitron. Bein' a leader must come with some sacrifices to ethical codes, sometimes our own ambitions, but I guarantee people will be on your side with this decision. Ransack doesn't have a huge circle from what Zoomkill has reported to me. Take advantage of that; conquer what you need to not for yourself but for them because Ransack will make life hell on this world if he gets power. I would but...I've done enough for a lifetime."
There was no choice. Ransack wouldn't stop, and he would jeopardize everyone's life to sustain any power he had. He was too dangerous to be kept alive. Override couldn't help but realize just how limiting her options were. She would make things right, that she promised to Rockahilly in what he couldn't achieve.
After drinking her coolant medicine, Rockahilly started to walk away when she stopped him in his tracks. "What if I try to kill him but I make everything worse? What if I kill more than just him in the process? What if I...what if I break Velocitron?"
Rockahilly sighed and scouted the ground unable to look her in the optics this time. "If the world wasn't broken, people like Ransack wouldn't exist. And I wouldn't be here. You do what you must to win. That's all you can do. The social repercussions can be dealt with, but lives cannot be replaced. I'd rather try and save who you can than hope and wait for things to fall into place while a maniac runs loose dismantlin' everything this world stands for. Nothin' changes, people won't change, unless someone bites the bullet to set it off and if that involves killin' a bot, I will say that's worth it.
"Besides, I did it. And look where Velocitron is now. Regulations of safety, countermeasures, and better policies overall...at the expense of a grave mistake. A part of me doesn't regret it, but I can't forget it. It's a punishment I am more than willin' to take."
Override huffed, "You went too far..."
"I did what I thought was right," he sneered, "I just overestimated the radius. They weren't my targets. It was built to have a limitation, but you can't always predict what any limit in life is until you test those boundaries, sometimes in unfortunate ways. You've encountered a few of them, one recently, so why stop there? What's the limit of war until an enemy can be deemed for slaughter to keep others safe? I'm not telling you to repeat my mistake with Raceland, but I am urging you to consider how long you want this to draw out and what Ransack is more than willin' to do to you that you won't do to him."
She stayed silent, watching him visibly tired of his memories. They weren't pleasant, she knew that much having seen the aftermath. The message was clearer than ever.
What are you willing to do to stop this? How far will you go?
Override didn't know how far she could go. Ransack would keep coming back. There would be no peace for Velocitron until he was gone. As Rockahilly kept his distance for good reason though she knew it wasn't her fault, she wondered what the real stakes were. In the end, she was only limited by how far she wanted to go. Maybe she wasn't indestructible, but she needed to test those grounds, find a boiling point and set it off.
It was like what happened with Cybertron. Velocitron just couldn't afford to ally itself with them as they kept pressing buttons, asking more until their world reached an ultimatum. She kind of wished it didn't end up that way, but she had a chance to do something this time unlike the previous leaders. She had the chance to prevent such divergence within Velocitron and keep the peace. It came with a huge risk, one she would take even if like her engine, it could backfire heavily. After all, there had to be a limit to everything, and tolerance for treason was no longer an option.
"I will stop him," she muttered, sitting up from the berth with her arms lying on her knees. She was in no position to leave, but she knew her allies could handle Ransack's forces.
Rockahilly slowly nodded but she could tell it was with utter frustration that he had to give her such cruel advice.
"I know you will," he replied softly.
Another Day in Paradise
Arcee sat at the Oasis Club bar drinking and smirking as Bolt mocked Megatron, the latter of whom glared a bit at his associate.
"And then Megatron was like, 'Communications have been down for how long?!' Starscream looked so miserable, I swear, we were all laughing internally but you know, Megatron wouldn't have appreciated the humor under such strenuous conditions trying to secure those Predacon bones."
The vocal impersonation made Arcee snort as Bolt didn't have as low of a range as Megatron. If she could describe it, it sounded like a prepubescent version of him. Megatron was not amused, lowering his brows to a deadpan expression and glaring harsher. Bolt caught it and shrugged.
"What? That's how it went! You know this! Don't give me that look."
The warlord slash king sneered, "I sometimes wish I could strangle you…"
Bolt leaned back on his seat with his elbows on the bar table and facing outward with a lackluster slouch as he laughed, "Yeah, I bet you'd also love to snap it too. The old Megatron cometh, can't get rid of him, can you?"
"Actually, if it was the old me, I'd rip you in half more so than merely choke you out," he replied with an evil grin as he took a drink. When the bartender passed by, Megatron then said, "Put all this on Bolt's tab including the queen's."
The Vehicon's posture slacked a bit with the likeness of disdain at the tab comment before turning in his seat with a scoff. "You wouldn't really harm little old me now, would you? I'm your best buddy. Admit it. I bring a smile to that ugly mug sometimes."
"Sure," Megatron laughed, "when I think about all the times I could have thrown you off my ship."
"Okay, now you're just being intentionally cruel. You didn't even know who I was so that also makes no sense. I know, for a fact, you weren't remotely thinking of that when I died for you. You were practically weeping when you saw me return."
"You were seeing things," he muttered.
Arcee said not a word, enjoying the banter from her position next to her sparkmate.
"I know what I saw. You looked so cute-"
"Never…call me cute," Megatron warned, twisting around on his seat to look at his former subordinate in both surprise and a snarl.
Bolt looked around him and pointed at him while speaking directly to Arcee. "Does he let you call him such?"
Arcee grunted and smiled, "I'm out of this conversation."
"You did! You let her call you cute!" The Vehicon teased, "She didn't deny it so…"
Megatron closed his optics, biting back a small laugh that didn't help matters. "Bolt, and I cannot stress this enough, please be quiet."
Bolt gestured with his servos up in faux defeat. "Alright, cu-"
"Zip it," growled the warlord.
"Boys, I know you love each other but you're going to have to settle down. Isn't that right, Moonhunter?" Arcee laughed.
The Nitrotiger yowled as the bartender put a little dish with a simple drink for him. He lapped it up happily.
Bolt stretched and leaned against the counter before groaning, "I think I had too much to drink. Erghhhh…"
Megatron taunted, "Can't hold your high grade?"
"Ssshhh, I'm trying to impress Arcee and the server!"
The bartender looked between them trying not to laugh.
"I just realized we have, like, no way to get back to the palace…" he said, "Megatron, can you fly?"
The grey mech huffed, "On my own and with Arcee possibly. With all of you, I'm not about to kill myself. Have either of you flown before?"
"No," Arcee said before he could finish his sentence.
"Nope, not unless you can get Shockwave to convert me into a flight frame." Bolt then paused and retracted the statement as soon as he remembered what Shockwave was capable of. "Never mind, I don't want to be a monster from a human horror film. Scratch that. Rewind…so, how are you?"
Megatron rolled his optics and took another drink. "Unless you have precise control over years of training to do such stunt work, counterbalancing weight mid-flight is not an easy feat. So, knowing the difficulties from an experienced flyer, why do you think it would be a good idea for me to fly carrying three beings on me while intoxicated?!"
Bolt, instead of his normally intelligent comebacks, merely shrugged like an idiot and made a weird noise. The bartender was leaning away from their view cackling and gesturing to their fellow employees to get a load of their favorite customers.
"Maybe have me on your center and Arcee and Moonhunter on each wing? I think you can do it."
Arcee grimaced, "We have an option to call for a ground bridge, you psychopaths. And besides, I'm not flying with either of you. I'll drive-"
Bolt scoffed in return, "To where? Right into a building? Have you ever seen any PSA on Earth while you were there? You Autobots are terrible."
The drunken glare he received made him nervous but in a humorous way. Megatron got up and grunted as he did a few waist movements, not liking being seated for so long. He yawned, showing off his sharp teeth in the process. Bolt caught Arcee staring a bit and chuckled to himself which didn't help his relationship with an already peeved Arcee. When she noticed him, she threw the empty bowl that used to contain Energon treats, but she and Megatron had eaten all of them. The bowl hit Bolt and clattered on the ground.
"Ay hey, hey, property damage! Don't get us fined now!"
"Yeah, MY property!"
Bolt looked at her in puzzlement. "You don't own the Oasis Club."
"She's talking about you," Megatron replied smugly.
It took a second for Bolt to realize what that meant, and he waved a finger at her. "Oh. OOHHH…you bitch."
Both her and her sparkmate burst out laughing, leaving the bar while Arcee muttered through her fits, "I'm sorry! I'm-you know I don't mean it!"
"Uh-huh," Bolt growled playfully as he twirled around on his chair following their leave before jumping off and running to catch up. "I suppose that joke has nothing to do with you being mated to the one person who technically did own our pathetic afts? Don't think I wouldn't put that together. Both of you are dark souls, gaslighting, demented-"
Arcee cut him off as she held her mate's servo, "Yes, but you think it's hilarious which says something about you too."
"…It's funny but still a very low blow. I'm sensitive."
"You made three jokes in a row about Megatronus, who was mentally ill, being the butt-monkey of the Primes."
Bolt stopped while they didn't but couldn't find a way to twist the conversation back in his favor. "O-Okay, maybe we're all terrible people. At least I didn't kill a mentally ill person, Arcee."
"No, no, no, don't you dare go there. I had no choice."
Megatron sighed, "You two can argue, I'm going to go into recharge."
Moonhunter followed close behind unaware of the banter. At the bar of the Oasis Club, the bartender and the manager were dying of laughter.
"Tell me, have you ever seen any of the Council bicker like this out in public?"
"No, they were always pompous and regal. This is free entertainment right here," the bartender said, slapping the manager's arm as they both leaned on the table. "I love them. Best customers I've ever had."
Speed Demon
Engines gunned down the flatlands of Velocitron, neck and neck were two speedsters, blue and purple respectively. The end point loomed marked by baskets and chalked lines. By inches, the blue car hit the finish line and slid to a halt before making a few circles with childish glee. The youngling then transformed as did his friend.
"No fair, Blurr, you got me distracted on that last curve!" Geardash said.
"All's fair in racing, Dash, as long as you win." Blurr made an arrogant pose much to Geardash's annoyance.
"You sound so sure of yourself."
"Of course, I am! You're just salty you came in last!"
Geardash clutched his fists together and the two started arguing.
"Boys," a mech said as he approached. His teal and dark blue-merging-black racing stripes made an impression against the orange background of Velocitron's barren flatlands. Blurr's sire, Blazer, had a neutral expression as he observed the race and the aftermath. He shook his head, "Don't be cocky now, especially you, Blurr."
"Yes, Sire," the youngling said.
Blazer knelt beside the boys and looked between them. "One thing you must understand is racing isn't about winning. Sure, when you win, you can get money and maybe a position or two when you're older, but there's more to it than that. You may not believe me right now, but in due course you'll see what I mean. Winning a race doesn't always make you the winner because between the starting line and the finishing, there are many things you can lose that maybe you didn't know you had nor cared for."
"Like...our friendship," Blurr said in realization. "We wouldn't have been friends anymore?"
"One of the consequences of losing your head to victory can be such. You two have no idea how many times I've seen good friends break apart, losing loved ones over conflict, and watching the so-called winners be utterly miserable. It's okay to win, I'm not saying don't, but don't do it for the purpose of winning. Do it for more than its simplicity. Understand the race. Every race has a purpose for fun, business, or big stakes. Treat it as such but be wise to how you do it and what you are risking among it."
The two younglings clung together sorrowfully, not wanting to be enemies. Blurr saw his sire smile at that and he knew his father was right.
Blazer stood up and said, "Now, why don't we try another race? Just for fun, this time? Practice the wheel work and don't lose your heads to winning. Just drive."
Blurr and Geardash aligned themselves once more and upon Blazer's command, they jumped and transformed. Their vehicle modes, though small, sped at rapid speeds around the makeshift track as Blurr's sire monitored them.
"Easy around the turns, Geardash. The tracks are notorious for being very dodgy about how you take your turns. Blurr, put more power into your drifts if you're going to use them. Less momentum, less movement. That's the trick to it. Gun it on the straights always. That's how you pass your opponents."
As they came about on the final stretch, Blurr and Geardash were head-to-head again, pushing their engines to the max. Blurr was heavily focused but not on winning, on crossing the finish line in general. He found it was slightly less stressful to think of it that way than to prioritize winning. Internally, he breathed through his vents dead focused now...
Blue bio lights suddenly ran across him, and Blurr felt an abnormal surge of energy like never before. His tires produced glowing smoke and jettisoned him forward like a rocket. He couldn't control it. Blurr saw the finish line only vaguely as he yelled out, passing it within a second as a streak of blue. All his systems were empowered, and he didn't even know why.
"Blurr! Stop! Brakes, son, brakes!" Blazer shouted, his servos on his helm gaping at the sight.
Blurr hit his brakes hard, the momentum of his zooming form causing him to spin rapidly until he came to a halt abruptly with his left side off the ground. His wheels slammed back down, causing him to wince inside at the uncomfortable feeling. Blurr didn't dare move as Geardash drove towards him and his sire came sprinting.
"Blurr!" Geardash transformed and looked over his vehicle form like he was a wonder, smiling despite being left in the dust. "That was awesome! What was that?!"
Blurr followed suit, shifting back to robot mode and leaning over to grip his knees panting. "I-I don't know. It just...happened."
"Are you alright?! Are you-?" Blazer nearly slid on his knee plates to be within range of his son. He paused, unable to speak at first before he slowly realized what had happened, to Blurr's rather naïve confusion. "You...you got your powers already?"
The youngling exchanged glances with his friend uncertain. "My power?"
"Super speed. Yes," Blazer awkwardly nodded, "this wasn't supposed to happen until you were a bit older though I didn't think it would be super speed."
"Older? You mean Geardash and I are supposed to have super speed?"
"W-Well, no, not Geardash. Geardash's ability may not be the same as yours." He cleared his throat as the boys both looked at him strangely. "I think you two are ready for a talk that most creators save for their young when they come of age. I don't expect you to understand entirely but when you get to a certain point in your life, we Velocitronians gain, shall we say, powers relating mostly to our fast style. For instance, I have sonic turbo. Drifting or built-up energy allows me to boost myself to higher speeds though only temporarily. Some bots have indestructibility while in vehicle mode, some can alter their physiological traits, some have electromagnetism, and you, Blurr, have super speed. The difference between you and me is that you can constantly use your power until you no longer wish to...with practice, of course."
"How do you know if its super speed and not that boosting power like yours?"
"Because my grandcarrier had it. My boosting doesn't ignite my lights like that, but your great grandcarrier's super speed did. This power is one of the rarer types though, Blurr."
Geardash frowned, "When will I get mine?"
Blazer shrugged, "It'll happen when it does. It's not a certain point in time you suddenly get it. Promise me, boys, that you will use your powers wisely when they come in and you master them. These gifts of ours aren't meant to be abused. Great harm can occur for both you and others if you aren't careful. You will be careful, right?"
Blurr and Geardash nodded. Blazer smiled and lightly patted their arms.
"Good. And Blurr, just remember," Blazer said, looking into the youngling's optics, "even with powers like these, they never define you. The only thing that matters is how they are used, just the same as how a race is won."
Blurr gazed into his sire's thoughtful purple optics curiously, a small smile growing on his features.
Snapping away from his memory as his wheels streaked across the track now, Blurr focused entirely on his opponents as he gained on them. He could feel the energy spiking, yearning to be released. Only a few people knew of his powers, and they were his best friends like Geardash who trailed behind him.
As a grown mech, he honed his key power for the races that allowed it. Races like championship leagues and title bouts for the positions of government forbade the use of any abilities. They had to be done with pure skill and clever maneuverability. This wasn't one of those races, and he was patient. It was more or less a street race if anything.
Blurr's engines fumed and roared as he was stuck in third. The first-place driver was Treadlight followed by Rigs, a heavy-duty wheel runner with six tires instead of the normal four and modified with perks that would get one banned from the high-end tracks in a spark beat. They acted like bash brothers and cheated just the same. But, in all fairness, Blurr was about to show them how unequal the race really was. It wasn't about winning; it was about humbling the competition now. And it proved rather amusing. If they could cheat...all was fair in the art of war.
Geardash was aligned with him just like when they were kids, and Blurr knew the purple mech had a smile plastered somewhere within the vehicle mode. "Competition is getting away, Blurr. It would be such a shame to show them they wasted their money."
"Easy, Geardash, the trick isn't to go fast. It's learning when to make them cry." As they hit the last lap, Blurr's energy was soaring with his determination.
Geardash saw this from his sensors and suddenly said, "Let loose!"
There was a silent pause between them, then Blurr muttered wickedly, "Let's ride..."
Blue bio lights webbed across his form, cackling over his hood and chassis and igniting his wheels like skylit fire. His speed doubled, leaving Geardash in the dust. The two mechs in front of him barely realized they were about to be passed when a blue streak of a car zoomed past them towards the finish line. A trail of blue lighting was all they could glance at as Blurr proved too fast for them. Their engines couldn't keep up.
"What the-?!" One of them cried.
Blurr couldn't hear the spectators cheering in surprise while his opponents were left stunned, slowing naturally as there was no way for them to take back their position. He came in hot and as soon as he confirmed his tire touched the line, he slid with a trail of blue to a halt and ended up facing the other racers who were more than ten seconds behind.
His engine blew ghostly blue steam from his grill. His bio lights lingered for a whole minute before settling and disappearing with a hiss. He transformed with a sigh and gestured to his chest breathing as his optics, that were abnormally pure blue, died back down to their natural design. The energy within still coursed but he restrained his residual power inside in case he needed it, a trick he had to learn over years of trial and error not to waste in one jump.
Treadlight, Rigs, and Geardash crossed the finish line and transformed each, the latter of the three proud of Blurr while the other two despised him. As Blurr adored his new fans, Treadlight pushed past Rigs.
"You cheated!"
The blue mech raised a brow and scowled, "How did I cheat? Anything goes, right?"
"You-You should have warned us ahead of time!"
"And spoil the surprise so you could counter it? Where's the fun in that?"
Geardash quickly butted in, "You guys were using mods and you're getting mad at him for using his natural abilities? Hypocrites much?"
"Watch it, runt," warned Rigs.
Treadlight snarled, curling his servos into dense fists before shaking his head. "Just...come on, Rigs, let's blow this joint. Let the rookie have his win. But the next time we race, one of us will beat you, speed freak."
As they walked away, Blurr huffed to himself, "Doubtful."
"Ah, they're just sour," Geardash said. He clapped his friend's shoulder with a grin. "You followed the rules, and they still call you a cheater."
Yes, it was common. Even with other bots adorned with super speed, Blurr somehow proved to be one of the fastest. What worried him the most was the fact he was getting even faster. His power was growing. Maybe it was him learning new tricks with it or it was simply becoming greater with age. He couldn't say for sure. He sighed to himself and accepted his earnings without another word.
More races, most legal to use powers, resulted in more wins. His speed was optimal. It was funny as he recalled his sire telling him not to rely on the power itself but use it tactically, and he did. Each win was a strategy, and he cared not for the winning itself. As his power grew, so did his sense of challenge. Perhaps that's what he was destined to do instead, find the challenge of racing itself. He certainly believed so as he zoomed down each track, tires burning with their blue flames like a speed demon.
Blurr knew one thing that stuck over the years: he was officially the fastest bot alive. Even when he lost the championship races for Velocitron's positions and even its leader status to so few bots worthy of being his opponents for their restrictions on powers, everyone learned he was otherwise unbeatable. He could live with the losses; they meant nothing to him. The only thing that mattered was he found comfort knowing he could strive to be the best in the heat of the track against real challengers. His sire would be proud.
Captain's Log
Archive Log 3845
Though I am just weaning my habit of doing this for a more personal log, I will repeat one last time that my name is Ceros Silos. I am a warrior of Rozaria, my proud home world. A faithful friend and a loyalty unbound to the king of our neighboring world, Kanjis, who is a kind, benevolent soul.
I remember when I met the royal family of Kanjis. A friend of mine, Sephtis, and his brother knew the king as a former associate. I was introduced on a simple run to the city where a giant Ridgeback towered above even some of our taller buildings, a beast of magnificence. His mate, a regal queen and a nice lady, welcomed me with open arms upon chatting with them. I plan on attending a higher education soon and didn't know they would be there but ever since, they have been friends of mine.
I live among their world upon occasion as their equal, and they treat me as such. Never before has any species been more welcoming with hearts larger than their imposing yet gentle frames. Metal and flesh, they see no differences as they welcome beings from across the galaxy in trade. I find comfort in giants greater than us Rozarians for we often come across species smaller than us, more fragile and less developed. I don't pity them, merely find their stature of limitations curious, but we all had to start from scratch at some point. In a way, I believe King Prometheus Kronos sees the same in us Rozarians hence his eagerness to be good neighbors and give us such opportunities. But there must be someone who looks down at a giant like him and would say the same thing.
To think I have these opportunities through hard work that ultimately led to me finding even more of a world to explore and a friend of an unusual position. I wouldn't call myself lucky, but I would declare my life is on the right track. I wonder just what is here for me once I come to Kanjis full term.
/
Archive Log 3557
I started my job as a judge, having just finished my law credentials with flying colors and now work on Rozaria as one of its planetary officials. The position is, for the most part, quite robust financially but a burden on the psyche. Judgement is not an easy power one can hold over others. To have their lives entangled within another's final word…one must wonder what lengths people of similar positions must restrain themselves from taking command and putting what they want to see happen over what the law decrees. I understand how corruption comes. Its bias, even when correctly placed, is a fickle, wretched fruit. But as my motto goes, I will always do what's right no matter what stands in my way.
/
Archive Log 4890
I have moved on to newer heights. Prometheus has asked me to be a judge on Kanjis, specifically Gemelo's high courts. It is an honor and a privilege to search His Majesty's courts. I wouldn't turn it down for anything. My dream to ascend from my world to Kanjis entirely has been fulfilled. As much as I love Rozaria, I find Kanjis' calling much more appropriate.
/
Archive Log 5211
Perhaps the law is not my service for I find the need to take control where I should not. Prometheus, as a fully trained lawyer since he was but a prince, is not aware of the cases I work without him. I will not say the mistakes I've made, but I will say my judgement might be impaired.
It is the folly of free thinking that turns the faintest chance of corruption into reality. I find myself uneasy that the system has tainted me so. They are to blame for making it so unfair for those who try to do right in such a constricting system, not just on Kanjis. Guilty or innocent, I must decide but cannot do so if the trials are somehow against my knowledge.
I heard from the officials of Prometheus' council that they are training new guards for the palace. Maybe that would take my mind off my grievous errors no one can know. I will train hard beyond what I already know, be the best I can, and some discipline might serve me well. We Rozarians just might be better suited as protectors and warriors than anything else.
/
Archive Log 10844
Being a guard for years and serving the crown that has graciously welcomed me as its captain prior is a privilege…but I find myself enchanted with a few of Prometheus' family members, specifically his eldest child. Oh, how I've seen those like Ghost, Kalypso, Eclipse, and Phantasmos grow, the latter two excellent pupils to their father's throne if I were to choose, but the one of most unusual cunning and leadership comes from Tigressa.
I have seen her stand up to Prometheus' word, his laws not fazing her as she goes through with what she desires and strikes at the heart of the matter like a missile. I see her thoughts as an exotic puzzle yet clear is the image she is trying to place accordingly. Those are the signs of a mastermind, something mysteriously complex but knowing that if she wanted to do something, no one could stop her. Is it wrong to wish to see what she does? I have known her for years yet no one, not even her father, sees what I see in her. I must know. I must.
Maybe I am getting ahead of myself. The injustice here is that there is no place in this galaxy for us to coexist without me interrupting her delicate plan, whatever that may be. Perhaps…I could know more one day?
/
Archive Log 11508
She understands the methodology, my most practical approaches to justice. No one, not even the great Prometheus Kronos can understand my view on the system of chance and flawed expectations. We have been talking and I think I found a soul like mine the yearns for a real world of our design. The process is tedious, morally challenging but we must do as we see fit. I do hate to keep secrets from the most useful assets like Phantasmos, a young but promising mind even for a sparkling.
Tigressa says he's a liability. I don't understand what she means nor her complete plan. What lingers in her mind, I cannot fathom. Should I tell her father? But that would break the otherwise impermeable bond we have started together. I will not risk it. It took too long to win a difficult trust in a relationship unwanted by one party; I will not let her go now that she sees me as an ally. I just want to be a good captain…
But I am. The skills of a Rozarian warrior combined with the knowledge of Kanjis fighting arts has made me one of the most influential captains the planet has ever seen! And Tigressa appreciates it. I will serve her as I am meant to when Prometheus Made me captain. That I will promise until the day I perish from the universe and beyond.
/
Archive Log 12295
I have no clue how many entries I have made for her, but my dear Tigressa is on the verge of a breakthrough. Kronos is still oblivious. Good. He need not know his daughter has put her inherited and creditable intelligence to a far greater use than he can fathom. She has her mother's charm…
I see now the truth of Tigressa's beliefs. Kronos has indeed been playing with his power as a mortal god for far too long, dictating the worth of beings through trade and false hope for eons. He doesn't really care about us! The proof is Tigressa, an outlier of his perfect family whom he chooses to ignore. Well, how long can you ignore a threat?! We will show the real power of true dedication and loyalty, rewriting the cosmos to our liking! True justice will be ours to wield, ours to command!
She is like a scientist, crafting her perfect experiment. Should we unleash it? Granted, I do not know what it will do, but I have confidence it will give way for a new world order even better than Kronos' own, maybe even the entire galaxy-no, universe.
/
Archive Log 12939
It is complete. A virus of sorts, at least from what I've been told. It has been tested and…the results are horrific. Her blood and power proved too much yet I wonder if there is a way to harness the concoction. A variant of the mutagen…one that won't spread like wildfire from ravenous beasts of unholy damnation, would make someone unstoppable.
/
Archive Log 13001
How far would I go for Tigressa to test the new formula on myself? I don't know but I have the opportunity to find out, a leap of faith. It turns beings into monsters, ones only she can control…a horrid fate but curious…
/
Archive Log 13002
My name is Captain Ceros Silos. I am a warrior of Rozaria no longer, my former home world. A faithful friend and loyalty unbound to Tigressa as her new Horaquan general.
I am alive.
I am a god.
AN: Some character insights to the residents of Velocitron and Captain Silos never hurt to show off. I honestly went through a lot of drafts for some of these character stories because I didn't just want to show the perspective against the Cybertronians which most people would expect. I wanted to instead share what made these characters who they are which may or may not have had influences from Cybertron's Great War. Next up, we're going to Caminus! Pack those bags because I'm going to bring some new and exciting characters as well...