C-14's frame burned with exertion, joint and muscle cables straining as he brought the heavy pickaxe down into the rock. The tip embedded itself into the rock, sending more cracks splintering up from either side of the sizable hole he had made.

"This is an example of what happens to those who neglect their function…"

The miner lifted the axe, ignoring the loud protest his frame gave.

The whip hit against his back strut again, the sound echoing through the silent mine. Excruciating agony spread through his frame…

C-14's grip on the pickaxe tightened as he used all his strength to haul the tool in the air, bringing it down with a grunt. His shift was almost over, and he could recharge, forget about the previous events.

Laughter echoed in his audial receptors, whispers and false apologies rippled amongst the onlookers. He was left hanging there, humiliated and in pain…

Pedes in the distance drew near. The mech knew those pedesteps, he knew who they belonged to. He felt something hot and raw and powerful in his chassis. It came from his very core, his spark chamber. It spread, fast and furious, coursing through his fuel lines until every single wire in his frame burned.

"Hey… er, Rustbuc—I mean, C-14," the mech stammered. "Look, we may not be the most—ugh, scrap that! Look, we both don't like each other."

C-14 ignored him, refusing to acknowledge him. His grip tightened on the pickaxe, and he brought it down again with renewed force.

Crack.

DV-44 shuffled uncomfortably. "I-I didn't want that to happen, even if you may have deserved it a bit." His voice wavered. "I just thought he'd hit you a few times, not… that."

The miner felt the burning in his spark intensify. He swung the pickaxe again but said nothing.

The mech continued. "I mean, how was I supposed to know that you missed your quota twice before? It wasn't my fault that you were already behind." The miner sounded like he was growing closer. "Besides, you were the one that wrecked my drill! You know how much that thing cost? My energon rations were halved just so I could pay for the replacement! So we can say we're even!"

Even.

That word snapped something inside of him. Without warning, he whirled around, his fist colliding with DV-44's faceplate, sending the mech stumbling backwards. C-14 followed, pouncing on the mech, claws raking down with a sickening screech. Half of the mech's faceplate peeled away, revealing the damaged internal mechanisms sparking and sputtering beneath.

The miner didn't stop there. His fist came down again. And again. And again. Each punch was fueled by a rage that had festered over the vorns of oppression, of humiliation, of pain. Each strike was a memory, a scar. The taskmaster's whip. The laughter. The anger.

Even when the miner below him stopped moving, energon leaking from various wounds that he had inflicted, he still didn't stop. He grabbed DV-44 by the throat, pressing down hard on his sensitive neck cables.

"You think we're even?" C-14 growled. "You think this—" He lifted the pickaxe he had dropped nearby, raising it high, "—makes us even?"

He was ready to finish it.

The pickaxe came down.

But it never struck.

A powerful strike to the helm sent him sprawling to the ground. The world spun as his sensors tried to recalibrate. He looked up, disoriented, to see another figure standing nearby. He clutched his helm, trying to steady himself. An authoritative voice thundered above him, "Stay down!"

He heard words being spoken, but the static in his audios was making it hard to hear. He only heard snippets of the conversation. "Sector 893… save… facial… now!"

He tried to rise, but before he could even get halfway up, something slammed into him again, sending him back to the ground. This time, the blurry blob of a mech stood over him, bright optics blazing with fury that pierced through the haze.

As for you!" the mech spat. "What in Primus's name were you thinking?!"

"It's not of your business…"

"It's none of my business?" the mech growled dangerously. "I just stopped you from lodging a pickaxe in his spark! It's as much as my business as it gets!"

The static in C-14's vision began to clear, and he finally saw the mech looming over him. His optics, a bright and piercing blue, were filled with raw, unfiltered fury. The mech was shorter than him, even with the miner lying on the ground. His frame was mostly gunmetal grey, only broken by the bright red highlights across his bulky frame that ended in sharp, dangerous tips.

The mech vented loudly, rubbing a servo over his faceplates in exasperation. "You're that miner, C-14, right? The one that Streamline tortured."

C-14 looked away to the hide the scowl on his faceplates. "DV-44 was the reason he tortured me," he spat bitterly. "He took credit for the energon I mined! I had to do something!"

"So you decided murdering him was the best option?!" the miner snapped.

"I didn't mean to go that far…" he muttered, burying his helm his servos. The severity of what he almost did came crashing down on him like a cave-in in the mines. What was he thinking? He wasn't. It was the rage that drove him to do something like this.

"Is that your solution to everything? Starting fights?! Taking it out on anyone who crosses you?"

It was the solution in the arena.

"By the Fallen!" the mech said angrily. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

The miner hung his helm in shame, unable to meet the mech's furious gaze. He couldn't even find the words to try to defend himself—maybe there were none. The tense silence that settled over them was nearly unbearable, but he didn't dare break it.

Eventually, there was a soft vent and the shuffling of pedes. Out of his peripheral vision, C-14 saw the miner sit down next to him. "I'm Chainlink," the mech introduced himself. He looked sideways at C-14. "You got a name? A real one, not the numbers they give you bots nowadays."

C-14 hesitated, looking at the mech. A name? He had been C-14 for so long, he hadn't thought about anything else. "No."

"Thought not," Chainlink murmured, leaning back and staring at the ceiling of the mine. After a long pause, he spoke again, "You know, it wasn't always like this. There was a time that Cybertron was unified, even if it was only for a little while."

The miner frowned, confused, but didn't say anything. He had no idea what the mech was talking about. Was he saying that everybody was an equal before? It sounded… nice. All he had ever known was the mines, the numbers, the quotas, the constant degradation, and the fights.

"Back then, everyone was equal," Chainlink continued, staring up at the ceiling as if he was lost in some distant memories. "Didn't matter if you were forged with a drill for a servo or wings on your back. Everyone had a choice in what they wanted to do. We were all Cybertronians first, not cogs in the machine."

C-14 was surprised, he hadn't known about this. According to the Functionist, if the caste system hadn't been enforced, Cybertron would've been conquered by the Quintessons, as it had been the thing that had unified them against their oppressors.

"You don't really know about any of this, do you?" Chainlink questioned, tilting his helm slightly. There was a sadness in his optics. When the miner didn't respond, the mech said, "Yeah, I figured. The Functionists are careful with what parts of history they let us know about. But there was a time, C-14, when we weren't just numbers. We had names. We had choices. We built this world together, side by side."

C-14 looked down, not sure what to say. The idea of Cybertronians being equals felt strange, almost impossible. His entire existence had been defined by his function. His purpose was to mine energon. That's what he was created to do, and nothing more.

Chainlink vented. "It all changed after the Quintessons came. You've heard of them, right?"

The miner nodded.

"They invaded us, enslaved us," the older mech said darkly. "Treated us like property, that's when things started to fall apart. We fought back, and eventually, we won. We drove them off Cybertron. But when it came time to rebuild, Sentinel Prime reinstated the squid's caste system for the 'good of Cybertron.' We were forced back into the roles we had during the occupation."

C-14 was disappointed when Chainlink's story trailed off. He wanted to hear more about this version of history that had been hidden away from him. The world that the mech had just described sounded so… unreal. Could there really have been a time when Cybertronians weren't bound by their functions?

"But that's all ancient history," the older miner said, snapping him back to the present. "Not much point dwelling on it now. Things are the way they are."

Chainlink stood up, brushing the dust off his shoulders. "Anyway, our shift's almost over."

C-14 panicked, looking around the mine. He hadn't dug up nearly enough energon to meet his quota. Streamline would be more than happy to make an example of him again, with the half-baked excuse that he thought he was above his function.

The miner must've noticed the panic on his face and raised a servo. "Relax," he said. "I've already dug enough energon for two. I'll say you did half of it."

The younger mech stared at him in disbelief. "But… why?"

Chainlink vented, a tired but understanding smile tugging at the corner of his intake. "Because I've been where you are, C-14," he said. "And because I'd like a favor in return."

C-14 tensed slightly. "What?"

The older miner smirked. "Nothing too hard. I want you to read a book for me."

"A book? What does that have to do with anything?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, a book. It's a book about Cybertron's true history," the mech said, sounding tired. "The real history, not the sanitized version they feed us. I've got a copy stashed away. Read it. Learn what they don't want you to know."

"Why?"

"Because understanding our history is important. It helps you see beyond the cage they've put us in and maybe, if you understand where we came from, you'll find a way to change where we're going."

C-14 considered the request. This was an opportunity of a lifetime, he would avoid another beating from the taskmasters and get an insight into Cybertron's history, something that he knew he would never get another chance.

"…Deal."

The miner extended a servo, which C-14 took. With a firm grip, he was hauled to his pedes. "Good. I'll get the book to you after our shift."


Hello, this is my first time posting on this site. I'm still trying to figure things out and whatnot. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I would greatly appreciate it if you told me what you think! I'll probably post another chapter next week, if I can figure out how to do it...

[This story is set in the Transformers Prime Universe]

Cybertronian Time Measurements:

Nano-klik – second, Klik – minute, Breem – hour, Solar cycle – a day, Cycle – one week, Megacycle – one month, Stellar cycle – one year, Deca-cycle – a decade, Vorn – one century

Cybertronian Terminology:

Spark - heart, Neural net/Processor - mind/brain, Frame - body, Helm - head, Faceplate - face, Optic - eye, Optical ridge - eyebrow, Audial receptors - ears, Intake - mouth, Derma - lip, Denta - teeth, Glossa - tongue, Chassis - chest, Tanks - stomach, Servo - hand, Digit - finger, Pede - foot

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