Author's Notes: The latter part of this chapter is something I had planned from the beginning, but the opening sequence was a last minute idea. I think everything came together well, but maintaining this K+ rating isn't easy. Good thing the actual cartoon was already kind of intense. I tried to keep the mood from staying in one place for too long, but that's kind of a challenge for me. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter of My Spark Still Shines!
Also, for my next Transformers fic I was thinking about writing some angsty romance (since I don't have a lot of romance in my collection) and I have two ideas I want to do, but I'm having trouble deciding which one to do first. So, I'll ask you one simple question, should I post a G1 fic or a TFP fic in this genre? PM or review to let me know your thoughts :)
Ohmygiddyaunt: Thanks for pointing out wording error in this chapter. Hopefully it reads better now :)
Chapter 8
Give Me Your Power
The crowds were forced together in the small room like livestock awaiting slaughter. That actually seemed like a fair description. Everyone was taller than him, and they spoke in frantic shouts and whispers. He was just grateful to hear them. He had been trapped under a pile of debris for 7 joors with his audio sensors completely blocked due to the rubble and nothing but grim deathlike silence to keep him company. When the Decepticons forced him out of the wreckage, he was almost happy to see them.
He wished he knew someone in the room, anyone, so he could ask them what was going on. No one wanted to talk to him though. An unattended sparkling was hardly worth anyone's attention when the Decepticons were holding them all as prisoners in this dark tiny cell with no windows or bars. The walls were all made of dark purple steel, and there were only two doors; one to get in, and the other unknown.
The helpless sparkling began to sob quietly and sat down on the floor. He hugged his legs and hoped that someone would come to get them soon. He knew the Decepticons would probably hurt them, but it didn't seem that important for the moment. He just wanted someone to talk to him. More than that, he wanted his sire.
It had all happened so fast. The quakes, the building falling over him, and being trapped in the remains of what had once been his room. He hoped Prowl survived. Maybe Prowl would get out of the rubble and save him. Bluestreak had no other hope of survival, so he held onto the belief that Prowl was alive and coming to rescue him from the bad mechs that wanted to hurt him.
An archaic comm system crackled to life above their helms on the ceiling, and a deep emotionless voice began to speak. Everyone grew quiet and held their intakes in fear and anticipation.
"Praxians, welcome to the waiting room," The voice said, though the welcome sounded like anything but, "You will enter the processing room one at a time. Any deviation will be severely punished. First prisoner, step forward."
The door on the far side suddenly opened, and the mech leaning against it stumbled inside. The door immediately closed, so no one could see what was happening to him in there. For a few breems nothing happened. It was eerily silent, and Bluestreak wanted to say something, anything, to makes the silence stop. He couldn't though. He felt like he would be intruding on the other mechs and femmes if he did. The quiet was interrupted a few breems later by the shrieking of the mech on the other side of the door! It was clear he was in excruciating pain, and flickering lights could be seen through the cracks of the door.
Everyone screamed and backed up further away from the door, nearly crushing poor Bluestreak's fragile body in the process. Someone stepped on his servo, which was already fractured, and he howled in pain as his right servo finally detached from his arm completely.
Just last orn he had been an ordinary sparkling with a loving home, cool friends, and little to no knowledge of the terrorists known as Decepticons. It all seemed too awful to be real. Terror was definitely present, but what the little sparkling felt more than anything else was confusion. First he was safe, then his house crushed him, and then evil terrorists took him prisoner and trapped him in a room with about 40 other people. Would he ever see his family again?
"Next prisoner," The voice ordered over the comm.
Nobody wanted to be next. When the door opened they all stayed back, and that was when Bluestreak got a glimpse of what was inside. It was an even smaller room that had a conveyor belt floor and another door on the far wall. There were arm-like machines poking out from the side walls, and the sight made Bluestreak's plating grow cold. He thought he was going to faint!
After a breem, the floor began to move toward the open door! Everyone screamed, and soon a mech was close enough to the door for one of the wall-arms to grab him and pull him inside! The door closed once again, and many began to sob and scream. It was clear now...whatever was going to happen was going to happen. There was no stopping the Decepticons.
Most of the mechs and femmes were gone before Bluestreak was forced into the torture room. When he made it into the room the door slammed shut behind him, and he felt like he was inside a box ready to be shipped somewhere. It was so cramped, and the arms were everywhere.
The little sparkling huddled into himself and began to vent quickly. He was probably going to die, but he wouldn't fall apart now. If any Decepticons were watching somehow, he wouldn't let them see him cry now that he was alone. He just hoped his sire and his brother never knew the details of what happened to him.
Oddly enough, the arms didn't come for him. The next thing to happen though was even worse. It began to rain. Acid fell from the ceiling and melted his plating! It burned him all over. Bluestreak had never been in so much pain in his life! Now he cried out, since he could no longer help it, and hoped stasis lock would come soon. When most of his armor was gone, the arms began to peel him apart at his helm and chassis. They were going for his processor and spark!
PR-35 screamed as he onlined from his recharge cycle! He vented a few times and felt his armor just to make sure it was still there. It was. Good. He looked at his right arm. Still a gun. Good. No missing servos.
"PR-35!" TGP-538 called out, "What happened this time? You sound like you had a real doozy of a nightmare. Was it Breakdown again?"
"No...I don't know what that was," PR-35's body was as shaky as his voice.
Breakdown had been gone for over a month at this point. PR-35 would occasionally dream about Airachnid sneaking aboard the ship and killing everyone, or dream about Breakdown being killed by Autobots or by Airachnid. It seemed like PR-35's dreams were the only way his processor could truly express itself.
"Tell me about the dream," TGP-538 said in a calm tone as he sat by PR-35's berth.
"I don't know. I was little, and I melted, and it was raining inside, and a machine tried to take my spark!"
"Oh, I get it," TGP-538 replied drolly, "This is about Breakdown."
"How do you figure that?" PR-35 asked skeptically.
"Breakdown showed you your spark," TGP-538 explained, "It's not a real spark, but I noticed a change in you after you found out about it. It's made you more afraid of dying than you already were. You've become paranoid. Breakdown's death proved to you that anyone can die, even real mechs. PR-35, you're a drone, but lately you've started viewing yourself as a real mech. You need to stop it. It's interfering with your work performance and your recharge cycles."
"I'm sorry," PR-35 said softly, "I know you're right, but I feel different ever since then. I've been wondering...what separates a drone from a real mech? The real mechs had to be made somehow. Just because it was the Allspark instead of an assembly line, does that really mean they're better than us?"
"Yes," TGP-538 said bluntly, "Now get up. We have mine guarding duty today."
"Both of us?" PR-35 asked hopefully as his helm perked up like an excited cyberhound.
"Yeah, and HX-346, SS-PLX-04, and NU-855 are gonna be there as well," TGP-538 told him.
"Cool! I like working with you, and 4 has some of the coolest music!" PR-35 gushed, "HX-346 is kind of a bummer, but NU-855 is okay."
"Just be ready at oh-nine-hundred," TGP-538 reminded him, "I'll be in the wash racks."
"See you later!" PR-35 waved energetically as his longtime friend left.
He went over to the community cleaning cloth shelf and grabbed a rag. He polished his gun barrel and wiped off his chassis; his horrible dream already forgotten.
It had all happened so suddenly, though frankly no one was surprised. PR-35 and the other Vehicons were sent to guard a new mine rich with energon crystals. They knew this mine would likely attract Autobots, but only the five of them were sent to guard it. PR-35 didn't like that, because it meant the Decepticons' numbers were getting dangerously low.
For the first half joor it had been boring work consisting of mostly standing around and looking threatening like a bunch of metal scarecrows. PR-35 would've stayed there all day like everybody else, but a fight broke out between two of the miners and he volunteered to go inside and break it up.
As it turned out, ICN-995 had punched KN-447 after he insulted ICN-994. Of course. If there was a fight it was usually one of the lovebirds (as the other Vehicons had taken to calling them) at the spark of it.
"I wish you two could learn to get along with the other miners," PR-35 lamented as he helped ICN-995 load some crystals onto a cart after the fact.
"So do I," ICN-995 sighed apologetically, "I don't know what happened. I just lose it when someone insults my mate. It isn't her fault she's as ugly as the rest of us."
"I heard that!" ICN-994 shouted from across the cavern.
"Anyway," ICN-995 continued as if the interruption never happened, "I guess I wish the other miners understood how much she and I need each other. It's a connection I can't quite explain, but I felt it from the moment we onlined together for the first time on that factory floor. I think we were meant to be."
"That's so beautiful," PR-35 sighed wistfully, "Personally, I think you're an inspiration to Vehicons everywhere. Even without interface organs we can still find our special someone. I hope I find a Vehicon that thinks it's female someday."
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of gunfire outside the cave! Everyone knew that sound could only mean one thing...Autobots. The mine formech comm'ed base and requested a ground bridge, and soon the miners were being ushered into the swirling green vortex with their carts of energon.
Once every miner was safe and the cargo transported to the Nemesis, PR-35 went outside to join the fighting. He charged his cannon as he ran toward the light of day and hoped there weren't too many enemies to fight.
When he made it out there what he saw sent chills down his spinal struts. Everyone was gone except for one lone body on the ground...TGP-538. The other three Vehicons weren't there, so they likely made it back to the ship, but TGP-538's cables and fuel lines were pulled out of his body and strewn all around him. Energon leaked profusely, and his visor was dark and lifeless. There was no point in checking. He was gone.
PR-35 was about to order a ground bridge to return to the Nemesis just as the others had, but then suddenly he heard a noise from inside the caves. It sounded like a cross between a squeal and a yelp, and PR-35 knew the Autobots had been there. He feared they might still be there, but it was his duty to protect the energon in those mines from thieves, so he hefted his cannon and marched back inside.
"Miko! Jack! Where are you?" A young sounding voice yelled into the darkness.
What kind of names are Miko and Jack? PR-35 thought curiously as he made his way closer to the source of the interference.
PR-35 stopped when he saw a small creature standing right in front of him, and he gasped when he recognized it as a human. The little human turned around, and he made another yelp noise as he stumbled back and tried to scoot away from the scary looking Vehicon.
"Wow, you're a human!" PR-35 stated the obvious.
"Leave me alone!" The little human warned him, though fear could be detected in his tone due to the slightly higher pitch, "If you hurt me, Bumblebee will come after you!"
"Bumblebee?" PR-35 repeated nervously.
So, this wasn't just a human. This was Bumblebee's human. PR-35 often suspected that the Autobots' humans had special powers that made the Autobots stronger and protected them from danger. Bumblebee, from what PR-35 could tell, was a mighty warrior despite his young age and low rank. This human was most likely the key to Bumblebee's victories. Even though PR-35 knew that stealing Autobot property would make him a target, he also knew the reward was worth the risk. He had to have that human.
"Hold still, little guy," PR-35 said cautiously as he knelt down, "I won't hurt you. Just stay there…"
PR-35 awkwardly balanced himself with his cannon as he used his left servo to try to grab the boy, but Raf wasn't stupid, so he ran away while the Vehicon was kneeling in an awkward position.
"Hey, come back!" PR-35 hollered after the human as he ran further into the mine.
PR-35 gave chase to the little human. Under normal circumstances PR-35 would shoot running targets, but he didn't want to harm the boy, so he continued to run until he eventually caught up with the human and cornered him against a cavern wall.
Raf was panting and staring wide-eyed at the giant alien robot that had chased him down into this dark and lonely tunnel. He didn't know whether he would be killed or captured and taken to Megatron, but neither outcome seemed very appealing at the moment.
PR-35 put his hand flat on the ground palm up, and said "Come on little human, climb on. I'm your friend."
"You're no friend of mine!" Ran shouted defiantly, though inside his heart was pounding with terror.
"Oh, but I will be," PR-35 insisted, "I'm going to take you home with me, and you'll be my partner instead of Bumblebee's."
"Your's?" Raf asked critically, "But you're just a Vehicon. One of Megatron's foot soldiers. Wouldn't you take me to one of the other Decepticons like Dreadwing or Soundwave?"
"No, you're my partner!" PR-35 cried out desperately, "Please little human, give me your power! I'll make a good home for you. I'll get you human fuel, a habitat, a little game system so you have something to do while I'm gone, and blankets. I'll get you lots of blankets! I heard humans love blankets. That sounds pretty good, right? I promise not to take you for granted. Just please protect me. I'm old, and I'm getting slower. The Autobots are out for our sparks! They just killed TGP-538! I'm next...I know I'm next. You'll like living on the Nemesis. I'm sure the other Vehicons will like you, too. Maybe you can help me pick out humans to protect the others as well. I'll give you so much more than Bumblebee ever did! You'll see!"
Raf couldn't believe what he was hearing. This Vehicon was having a meltdown right before his eyes. He didn't understand this behavior though. According to the Autobots the Vehicons were just drones. They didn't have minds of their own and only lived to serve Megatron. Was this one broken? Or was something else going on?
"Um, Mr. Vehicon?" Raf cautiously addressed the Vehicon when he stopped talking, "Do you have a name?"
"My serial number is PR-35," PR-35 replied automatically.
"Okay, but what's your name?" Raf asked again.
"Um...You mean a designation?" PR-35 asked uncertainly, "I can't have a designation of my own. I'm not a real mech. Do humans have designations?"
"Yes, my name is Rafael, but everyone calls me Raf," Raf replied politely.
"Raf. It's kind of short, but I like it," PR-35 replied as he tried to smile at the boy, "I noticed you are smaller than the other humans the Autobots have. Are you less powerful than the other two? Is that why you were assigned to protect a lowly scout instead of the Wrecker or the SIC?"
"Well, first of all, I'm smaller because I'm younger," Raf tried to explain, though the Vehicon's words confused him on some level, "And, um, I think you have the wrong idea about humans. I don't protect Bumblebee. Bumblebee protects me."
"Why?" PR-35 inquired curiously, "What value do humans hold for Autobots?"
"We're friends," Raf explained simply, "Bumblebee and I are best friends, and I'm friends with the other Autobots, too."
"That's it?" PR-35 asked; disappointed, "That's the only reason you're with them?"
"Well, we weren't supposed to be on the battlefield," Raf admitted sheepishly, "But Miko ran through the ground bridge at the last second again, so Jack and I went after her to stop her. I got lost from the group. So, anyway...what are you going to do with me?"
That was a difficult question. PR-35 had been given no orders and no protocol for how to handle humans. He would've stolen the boy if he could've gained power over the Decepticons' enemies, but that assumption turned out to be false. If he took the boy anyway, he would be hunted down and killed by the Autobots. If he let the boy go, then the others might find out about it the next time he was "patched" during a routine checkup. Besides, just leaving the boy in the cave meant he was leaving a sparkling to die alone. He didn't know what to do.
"Raf...can we live here?" PR-35 asked in a whiny tone of voice as he gestured around the cave.
"I'd rather not," Raf replied half-jokingly as he wrapped his arms around his chest, "This cave is so cold. I'm used to wearing long sleeves in the desert. Makes me wonder if I'd get hypothermia if I went to Florida. Heh heh…"
PR-35 looked down at the pint-sized human, realizing now that this one really was only a sparkling, and felt a pang of guilt for putting him through this. He exhaled heavily, realizing that there was only one course of action that would let him sleep at night, but it would probably get him killed.