Jax activated with a start. Not a hint of fatigue of any sort. He looked at his hand, finding them made of dark, powder-coated metal, His arms a mix of gray and blue. Looking around, the land was quite flat, with only the stray cracked stone here and there. Behind him, an impossibly large city towered in the distance. The ground below was dull gray, but slightly reflective. Not quite stone and not quite metallic, yet exhibiting qualities of both.
Jax stood to his feet and stretched, testing the flexibility of his limbs. He wasn't stiff per se, but he still felt the need to limber up. Contrary to Alpha Trion's suspicion, the knowledge he granted seemed to pop forth of its own accord. As if Jax had known his whole life, he had to 'warm up'. When his systems went an extended period being unused, the energon slowed its flow, and the lubricant thickened and his joints shrunk. He needed to stretch to send energon through his body to warm it up again.
For some time, he stood there, testing out the feel of his new form. He was surprised how sensitive his skin- shell was. He felt every little thing that brushed against him, such as the light breeze he was currently in. The only difference was that hardly any part of him was squishy. The only things that were being his tires and the portion of his torso that needed to flex, and even that was less squishy and more so pliable.
The sun in the sky let him know It was a few hours until midday by his calculations, or by Alpha Trion's calculations he guessed. It would've been nice if he had… 'spawned' closer to what he could only assume right now was Iacon. Oh well, he wasn't one to waste time complaining. He set off in the direction of the metropolis.
Even though one might surmise that he was bored while he marched, he was anything but. In fact, without the influence of that weird spiritual manipulation, he was becoming elated. He soon found him picking up speed. Soon, he was in a full blown sprint. Again, a part of him felt very strange at not needing to breathe, but the sensation of being able to run freely without pain was so freeing for him. It had been many years since he had done so. He rapidly approached a boulder, altering his course to head straight at it. When he was close enough, he leaped. He had nearly cleared the jump, but he misjudged how high he needed to raise his feet. His foot caught the object and he went tumbling across the ground. He stood up unbothered and continued running, whooping and hollering as he went.
After a while, his enthusiasm ebbed, and he fell back to an energetic stride. Not to mention that he wasn't sure how easily he could obtain energon. As he walked, he studied every little detail he could of the unique world. Judging by the randomness of their scattering, these 'boulders' were most likely asteroids that had breached the much thinner atmosphere of Cybertron. In fact, there was very little in terms of land formations on the surface. No mountains, vallies, or even rivers. Or rivers of water anyway. He knew from talking with the bots that there were areas where energon flowed freely.
In the distance, he could just make out something shimmering just outside the edge of Iacon. He tried to squint as he looked, and by some natural reflex, his optics zoomed in. What Jax spotted was in fact an array of fans of incredible size. A wind farm. He was happy to see that the new age of Cybertron wasn't taking its energon supply for granted. The wind farm was quite far, however, and it would take him a few hours at least to get there at the rate he was going.
Let's see what this new body can do.
Jax confidently grinned before diving forward. His intention was to transform, but instead of turning into something cool, he turned into a fool. He belly flopped against the hard ground with an embarrassed 'ow' escaping him. He got back to his feet and studied his arms and legs. He shot his arms out trying to 'flex' anything that he might not know was there. He craned his head to look at his back, almost poking an eye out on the narrow black pipe pointed up from behind his shoulder. A look on the other side revealed a mirror of the first. He had dual exhaust, which was a strangely humorous thought to him. It, however, did nothing to help him transform.
He spent several minutes trying to use muscles that weren't there, resorting to even doing a few flashy poses that made him burn with even greater embarrassment. He was slowly becoming irritated. He didn't know if this was being offensive in some way, but he was pretty annoyed he couldn't do the coolest aspect of Cybertronian life. In a bout of frustration, he kicked a small stone, resulting in a strange noise and the sudden feeling of something moving down by his ankle. When his foot came back down, his knee was bent slightly as if his leg had grown a little longer. Curious, Jax tilted his leg to look at the cause of the new change. He found that the wheel in his ankle had dropped and was able to roll freely. It felt like there was too much play in it, however, as he tested putting his weight on it. Watching the appendage, he noticed the front of his foot slid upwards the lower the wheel fell. Sitting down, he used his hands to pull at the wheel and move his foot up simultaneously. If he still had skin, it would be crawling from the feeling. When the wheel locked in place, he was relieved. The transformation, even if small, was not unlike having a joint pop out of socket, but then also pop in a different one. It wasn't painful, but he definitely wasn't used to it yet.
It didn't take him long at all to understand that if he had booth feet switched, he would essentially have roller skates. It was definitely cool, but also not what he was aiming to do. Besides, he didn't know how to skate, so he'd try to tackle that challenge later. He lifted his wheel-foot and concentrated, thinking of what he felt the first time. With a series of mechanical sounds typical of a bot transforming, the wheel shifted up and his foot slid back into place. It was nowhere near as unsettling as the first time around. He surmised that forcing a transformation by hand was simply just uncomfortable.
The results of his experimentation were very rewarding, fortunately. It was very different from trying to flex a muscle. With this newfound knowledge he got back up and tried to initiate the same action. He felt butterflies flutter within him as his body folded in on itself, worried when his eyes lost track of where they were. He saw various mechanical structures flash past his field of view. He assumed that these were his internals. A moment later, and the shifting had finished.
Blinking a few times, He realized he was looking in the same direction he was before, except from a perspective much lower. The place he was looking from had to be where the headlights would go. He also had a secondary view, almost like another set of eyes, except they didn't move. They were like little cameras aimed at rear view mirrors that he could turn this way and that, which he utilized to get a good look at his alt form. Overall, he was a very sharp bike, which was something he'd never expected to think. From the limited view, it seemed like he was close in shape to a light cycle from Tron in that his wheels were covered. The biggest differences being that he wasn't even nearly as wide, and he could see some of his internals exposed in the midsection of the bike. Considering how sensitive his sides were to the breeze, it was clear that they were exposed for the purpose of cooling.
He wasn't able to admire his form for very long, however, as he slowly tilted over, and before he could react, had fallen completely on his side. An exasperated sigh left him. He had an idea, though. With some mental work, he transformed just his arms, both of them emerging from the top of him like wings. He used them to pick himself up straight again until he figured out how to use his kickstand. He also tested his new range of motion. The front wheel turned side to side and his back wheel spun a little, though he stopped immediately. It would be quite idiotic if he knocked himself over again by trying to drive with the kickstand.
How was he supposed to stay upright? Arcee was able to stay upright without moving forward. It must've had something to do with the other thing he was able to control. Jax could feel something in his direct center move around. It didn't change anything externally. Steadying himself, he retracted the kickstand. As soon as he started to lean, he spun whatever the thing was as hard as he could. The reward was being accelerated toward the ground faster than gravity could do alone, earning a hiss of pain from him. Undeterred, he righted himself again and repeated the process, except spinning the thing the other way.
Suddenly, he stopped moving and began leaning the other way, he switched directions excitedly, which led to him overcorrecting again. He struggled for a few minutes until he mastered the ability of only making minute adjustments. It clicked that the 'thing' was a gyroscope. It was pretty obvious now that he thought about it. He always wondered how Arcee managed turns without him having to lean for her.
Now that Jax understood the basics, he was ready to try out his new wheels. He braced himself, preparing to send a decent chunk of power to the back wheel. He counted down in his head from ten, and when he hit zero, he let off the brake. Shooting forward with a spin of his tire, he panicked and let off the throttle. He slowed so much that he began to wobble, putting his gyro into overdrive. He hit the throttle again to try and undo the wobble. After a few intense seconds of correcting, he was now heady forward faster than he ever could running.
It was hard to contain his joy. Bravely, he tried a few wide turns, helping tune in how aggressively he needed to correct his balance. Having his alt form be a motorcycle was a boon. When he could still drive on Earth, he never went anywhere by car, and his skill with bikes allowed him to pick up this new ability pretty easily.
With the basics down, he was set to head towards the city, and that's exactly what he did. Since the wind farm was the closest thing to him, that's where he went first. Aside from the stray debris he had to evade here and there, He was making incredible progress. In only a few minutes' time, he was close enough to hear the large fans moving, and a few minutes more he was driving between them. Every so often, there would be a fan that stopped, and a glance out of the corner of his eye caught figures around the base of, or climbing, the structures. Anxiety began to build inside of him. Soon he'd come into contact with other Cybertronians, and he was far from confident he could blend in. He hoped to delay conversation until the last possible minute.
By divine intervention, which he supposed was Primus who he will blame, He saw something flash up behind him. A peak in his mirror showed yellow lights, one from a van, the other from a truck. Jax panicked as he slowed to a halt. "Scrap."
The two vehicles got closer before transforming. He hoped that objects in his mirror were actually bigger than they appear, for these two seemed pretty big. They both were colored in yellow construction stripes, one with white and the other with dark blue. When they were close enough, Jax decided to break the ice. "Uh… Hi."
The two looked at each other before giving him an odd look. The one who was a van spoke first, her voice very young sounding and inquisitive. "Aren't you going to stand up?"
"Oh. Yeah." Jack said with embarrassment. He was so terrified, he had no clue what proper procedure was. He transformed and got to his feet, realizing he wasn't even at shoulder height for the pair. Never before had he been self-conscious of his height. "Sorry, I guess I'm a little nervous."
The truck bot narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at Jax's face. "As you should be! This place is off limits to unauthorized personnel. It's dangerous enough to have some dumb bot in here without proper safety instruction, but to also be blasting through here like this is the Iacon raceway! You got some nerve punk!"
Jax raised his hands at the accusation. "My bad. I didn't know. I promise I won't do it again."
The disheveled bot growled at him. "Can't you read the signs? For your information, they say 'Danger, Electrical Hazard' and 'Speed Limit thirty-five Kliks an Arc'!"
Jax blinked slowly, not having any clue what that meant. He tried to play it off with the usual. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was going so fast."
The bot went wide eyed and started stammering. Jax was worried he'd blow a fuse. The femme turned to her partner and tried to calm him down. "I think he means it, boss. They don't usually stop if they're looking to make trouble."
The words seemed to bring the bot's temper down a bit. But he still glared daggers at Jax. "What are you doing out here punk?"
Jax scrambled to form an answer in his head. If he waited too long, he'd really be in a heap of trouble. He decided a half-truth would be best. "Practicing."
The bot raised a suspicious brow. "Practicing? For what?"
Before Jax could answer, the femme brightened up and bounced on her heels. "For the race!"
Jax nodded his head so fast he was surprised it didn't come loose. The bot didn't seem fully convinced. "For the race, hmm? Tell me, why aren't you practicing on the tracks where reckless driving is legal?"
"And let the competition know what they're dealing with, no thanks." Jax lied nonchalantly. He regretted having to do so with seemingly good people, but he could not afford to be arrested.
His answer delighted the bubbly femme. She leaned down to get eye level with him. "What position did you qualify in?"
"Uh, well, I haven't exactly qualified yet." He replied truthfully, at least.
His answer disappointed her greatly, as evident in her becoming slightly crestfallen. "Oh. But the qualifiers close in three cycles. Aren't you cutting it a bit close?"
"A tad." Jax agreed.
The bot, however, didn't like his responses. "Driving like a maniac for a race you may or may not even be in! Unbelievable. I should call up the guard and have a few officers come out and smack a big ol' fine on you. Might teach you some common sense."
"Please no!" Jax's sudden plea spooked them both. They stepped back and braced themselves like they were expecting a fight. Jax got a hold of himself and tried to reason with them calmly. "Please. You can't let the pol- guard get involved. I can't afford a fine."
They both relaxed, but the bot crossed his arms and spoke disapprovingly. "Ooh, now I see why you're out here. You're broke and can't pay the entrance fees. Figures. Bots like you who've never worked a hard days' labor are always willing to put themselves and everyone else on the line to make easy credits."
"Boss!" The angry shout came from the femme, who seemed to have a problem with her superior's words. "That's incredibly mean, even for you. You're just upset cuz we couldn't keep up with him. I'm sorry sir, he didn't mean that."
Jax waved a hand, showing he was not bothered at all. "No, he's got a point. I do need to get a job. The race was just a means to get a start. If I didn't have to, I'd much rather find a better way to get on my feet."
They both gave him his second odd look of the day. The femme speaking her thoughts. "You're not like any racer I ever met. You don't have that fire they usually do, no offense."
Jax shrugged. He knew he wasn't cut out for racing. The bot rubbed his chin a moment, studying him critically. "Tell you what. You don't seem like a bad kid. Let's take you to the front gate, and I'll let you off with a slap on the wrist, but only if you swear on Primus' name that you'll go get and get a proper job and quit being a menace to society."
Jax gave his most innocent smile he could, though he was a little peeved at being called a kid. He'd let it slide considering this bot could be centuries, or even eons old. "May Primus strike me down where I stand if I do anything but."
"Ha! That's the best answer you could've given. C'mon." The bot said, his countenance softening dramatically. He started walking away and then transformed, waiting for them to do the same.
"Pfft, he always acts like he has a cracked block, but he's really a big softie." The femme commented before transforming and pulling up behind Jax. He guessed that they were 'escorting' him off the premises. He followed their lead, and soon they were driving along at an admittedly much calmer pace.
"So, What's your name stranger?" the femme inquired. Surprising him with how well he could hear her whilst on the move.
"It's Jax. Jax Dugen." He said calmly, though he was apprehensive of how they would receive it.
"Wow, and here I thought I was old!" the bot teased.
The femme didn't even bother scolding him, which told Jax he had an odd name. She did seem surprised by it. "It is a bit… retro. Did you pick it?"
"I did." Jax said defensively, though he didn't mean to.
The femme flustered a bit. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just out of the norm. Why'd you pick it?"
Jax tried to think of a good reason. He especially did not want to lie again. "I just like the way the older names sound. What should I call you two?"
"I'm Sunburst. My mentor bot named me." Sunburst said.
Jax wondered what she meant by mentor bot, because he had a feeling it wasn't simply in reference to a teacher. "I can see why."
"What is that supposed to mean!?" Sunburst demanded.
"You have a warm and bright personality." His answer made her go quiet.
He wondered if he said something wrong until the bot started laughing. "Not bad, kid. You sure are full of surprises. You can call me Sentry. Worked security all my life, even during the war. I decided to make it easy to remember. Now, considering your situation, I take it you're not from Iacon?"
"That's right. I came here looking to start life." Jax said, hoping he wouldn't ask where he came from.
Sentry's voice turned cautionary. "Yeah, well, good luck. The prospect of big city life draws many in, but few ever make it. By the sounds of it, you need some direction. What industry are you looking to get into?"
"I'm not completely sure. I want to be able to do good. Maybe help others." Truthfully, Jax didn't want to commit to anything too quickly. He still had no clue where Arcee was outside of the clue 'tall building in Iacon'. He didn't even know what she was doing for work. She could be living off a fortune she got for saving Cybertron for all he knew.
Wait, that's not right. She mentioned in a transmission before that she was helping organize law enforcement.
Sentry considered Jax's response and proposed an idea. "Helping folk, huh? Well, you could go into a lot of things. There's medical, what about that?"
Jax perked up at the thought. His mother had been a nurse, and he had often talked with ratchet about Cybertronian sciences. It might work. "How long does it take to get into that?"
"Depends on how high up the ladder you want to go. A bay hand, four stellar cycles. A general medic, half a vorn. A master healer, several vorns, though they say you never stop learning your craft at that level."
Jax nearly crashed at the revelation. He remembered during his time with everyone in Jasper that Ratchet had calculated one vorn to be eighty-three Earth years. He tried to play it off cool, but his voice was a higher pitch than he would've liked. "I'm good. Maybe once my life settles a bit."
Sentry's laugh echoed around for quite a ways. "I don't blame you. Never was the scholarly type myself. But if time investment is a hang up for you, there's not much on the list for public service. Let me see, there's general maintenance, construction, guard work, though that's even more dangerous than racing."
Jax was intrigued at the last one mentioned. "How long does it take to become a guard?"
Sentry had been in the midst of explaining some other service jobs when he heard Jax's question. "Well, If you pass the instruction phase, which takes one orbital cycle, you'll enter the force immediately. There's always a need for more enforcers in this growing city. Now don't quote me on this, but I think from there cadets are assigned partners of a higher rank to train them, and then you get promoted and take on your own trainee and so on and so forth."
"But guard work is a lot more dangerous than racing is by far. It's a really tough job, and I think the success rate of just the cadet phase is less than twenty percent." Sunburst added.
"I guess I won't know until I try." Jax said undeterred.
"You're not easily scared, that's a good sign at least. Dangerous it may be, but at least it's honest work. I do know, however, that doing six times the speed limit sure won't do you any favors! Ah, here we are."
The trio Transformed, Sentry walking up to a panel next to a very large sliding gate. With a quick biometric scan, he opened the gate and turned to face Jax, taking him by the arm and planting a smack right on his wrist. His smile, however, was anything but reprimanding. "Well kid, this is where we part ways. The easiest way to apply to the guard is by going straight to a station. If you change your mind, you can always go to the Iacon hall of records, there are always posts in the public notices of available jobs. If I see you again, I hope it's not with me having to chase you down again."
"Me too. Thanks for your help. I hope I can return the favor sometime." Jax said, shaking Sentry's hand, then Sunburst's.
Sunburst shook his hand a little longer than her boss. "Well you can do so by paying us a visit. It gets boring with only this hunk of junk to talk to."
"Will do. It was nice to meet you both." Jax bid farewell, turning around and walking out through the gate.
As the pair of security guards headed back, Jax was able to make out a hushed exclamation from Sunburst. "Scrap! I forgot to ask for his comm link."
"Ha. Now you're really becoming desperate. You just want to ask every bot that passes through for their comm link, huh?" Sentry teased.
Sunburst hit him on the shoulder. "He was hardly 'anybot'. Did you see him? And he's so polite, unlike any of you rust buckets."
Jax was struck with realization at what she was talking about. He shook his head, he was more mature than getting all twisted by some girl's passing affection. Though he appeared young to them, and technically he was, he was well into adulthood by human standards. He had to admit, however, that his youthful energy made him act more like his younger self. Was that all that being mature was? That adults behaved differently because they had to really decide if something was worth the effort?
He pushed the thought back, as he had more important things to do at the moment. The place he was in looked highly industrial. It seemed like mainly storage facilities and power plants. There were only a handful of people walking about, the vast majority of them being workers by the look of it. It did not escape his eye that many of them held what seemed like tablets made of light. While they varied in size and appearance, it became clear they were comparable to computers, as any calls seemed to be done through comm links. He guessed that there was no point in a phone if you had one built into your head. Making a mental note to pick one up as soon as he could, Jax continued on his path. While his intention was to check out the guard station, he wanted to visit the hall of records first. It would be conducive to his continued freedom to learn more about the laws and customs.
He dared not try to drive on public roads without understanding the road laws, so he got to walking. It allowed him to enjoy the scenery. The sidewalks were made of the same material as the road, which seemed to be a refined version of the naturally occurring geology. There were street lights which shined fluorescent as well as stop lights at intersections. They had an equivalent of chain link fence, which was a thick, rubbery mesh that was woven together. He was startled when a flock of mechanical birds flew up from the top of an awning. Quickly, he zoomed in to get a better look at them. It never occurred to him that there might be such a thing as animals on Cybertron. It was then that he remembered laserbeak, Soundwave's companion. It had been explained that he was a pet more so than a drone.
The biggest difference, besides not being dilapidated of course, was all the color. When he had been to the war torn version of the planet, All of the metal and stone was exposed. He knew that the weapons used were devastating. Massive bombs, laser artillery, and even acid rain, but it still shocked him now that this was probably what it looked like before that all went down. As he walked, he came across a building with large windows. He stopped to look at what was inside with awe. Rows upon rows of trees were growing in boxes, nourished via water tanks and overhead grow lights. They were very exotic of course, with hardly anything resembling leaves. Instead, there were these bioluminescent pods of blues, oranges, and magentas. A bot tending to the plants walked up to one with a cylindrical tank in his hand. He stabbed a hole into one of the pods with a knife and a thick, clear ooze slowly dripped out of it. The worker caught it in the container and proceeded to the next one.
"What's with the slack-jawed stare? Haven't you seen bio-life before?" Jax's eyes were pulled from the spectacle to look at the owner of the voice. A femme of maroon color standing near twice his height was in front of him. She was holding aloft a pallet in each hand of the full containers via steel cords. Jax glanced to the right and noticed a bot in their alt form of a heavy semi truck idling on the road.
Jax finally processed the question when the femme tilted her head. "Uh, none like that. What is that stuff?"
"Bulbo tree extract. Those eggheads in Crystal city finally figured out how to grow them here so we don't have to import them from HAR-17 anymore."
Jax noted the name and decided to search it later to avoid suspicion. "Oh wow, but what's Bulbo extract used for?"
The femme shook her head as she loaded her cargo onto the other bot. Dusting her hands as she stood straight. "You don't read the labels on your cosmetics, do ya? It's the main ingredient in buffing compounds. Once processed, it'll make rust shine like chrome."
Jax nodded his head and looked back into the facility a moment before he realized he had a question, catching the femme before she went inside again. "Hey, do you know the quickest way to the hall of records from here?"
"Can't you punch it into your guidance system?" She asked.
Jax came up with what he thought was a sound excuse. "I can't, it's, uh… broken."
"Oh no, you need to see a medic for that!" The femme switched trajectory and headed back towards him.
He got nervous. Perhaps it wasn't as sound of an excuse as he thought. She leaned down and checked him over. "Did it actually break, or did it just stop working?"
"I don't know, I was unconscious, and when I woke up, It didn't work." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. The femme looked at him quite shocked, and the bot on the street shouted 'What!?'.
"That's really not good. Hold on, lemme call a health-transport." Jax was going to argue, but the femme stood up and was already pressing two fingers to the side of her head. Though he completely ruined his original plan, he supposed having a health check up wasn't the worst idea.
When she got off the call, he asked her what the problem was. She gave him an explanation with an underlying tone of sympathy. "Young one, I'm afraid you might've gotten stripped. Where did you wake up?"
Ignoring the obviously different meaning of the term stripped, he saw the potential of the amnesiac story. "Out past the wind farm, about fifty kliks."
How did I know that?
The answer only served to fuel her agitation. "Do you remember how you got there?"
Jax shook his head no. After all, he had no clue how his soul went from the Allspark to what was absolutely nowhere on Cybertron. The femme completely forgot about her job, the bot too, while they waited for the ambulance to arrive, as he assumed that's what a medical transport was. The transport finally arrived, it looked almost like a bus for Cybertronians and hovered knee height off the ground, at least, knee height for him. It was white and orange from top to bottom and had all its lights flashing. As soon as it came to a halt, two bots with the same white and orange color scheme jumped out and ran to him.
One placed down what he could best describe as a laptop in a very heavy duty case and began hooking various pieces of equipment to it and then to him. The other bot ran him through a quick reflex test, asking him to follow the light with his eyes and do an equilibrium exercise. They even had him transform a couple times to ensure no irregularities. Finally, they scanned him using a device in their arms like Ratchet had. They started with the reported problem, and sure enough it was missing. They got increasingly concerned, however, as they continued down the rest of his body.
Not only was he missing his G.S. as they called it, he was also missing his comm link, Identification code, even his Energon level gauge. They said he was a sand blast away from being a protoform. When they questioned him about a lot of different topics, including general knowledge, he had far from stellar answers, most of them being outright ignorance. They did something called a 'surface level data bank scan' and became horrified at the results. It revealed that even though he was in the earliest stages of Cybertronian adulthood, he had almost nil in terms of present data, or 'experience' in this case. They said his memory had likely been purged by whoever stripped him.
Without delay, the medics rushed him onto the transport, nearly keeping him from thanking the femme for her consideration. They waved at each other through the window as the transport rode away. Since he was stable physically, they deemed his condition as 'not a dire emergency', so the ride to the hospital was a long one. The closer they got to the center of Iacon, the larger the buildings became, and the more people he saw roaming about. Though the sight warmed him that his pain hadn't been for nothing, his despair rose as the task of finding Arcee among the impossibly large population was becoming more daunting by the minute.
While gazing out the window, one of the billboards on the side of a building caught his eye. Having to do a double take, he realized the image was of a bot, and not just any bot, but of Bulkhead. It was an advertisement to 'help rebuild Cybertron', the name of the company called Prime construction. He could ask Bulkhead, or any of the others, where Arcee was. While they might not believe him at first, he was sure he could convince them that it really was him. All he had to do was detail some of their time on Earth.
However, he didn't know how they would react. It was clear to him that Arcee took his passing terribly, but he was ashamed to admit that he didn't know how the others took it. Did they feel betrayed? He didn't blame them if that was the case. It seems he'd need to put some more thought into his approach.
Upon arriving at the hospital, the medics assisted him out of the transport and walked him towards a side entrance that was a lot smaller than the main one. He studied the building as long as he could before he'd have to enter it. Painted primarily orange to stand out amongst its neighboring structures, Immense was the only word he could think to call it. The side he was on easily must have been two or three miles wide, though he wasn't sure how well he could judge that with his frame of reference altered as it was. It stretched high into the sky. While not the absolute tallest building in Iacon, it surely must have been one of the biggest by sheer volume. It seemed big enough on the surface to treat tens of thousands of people. Depending on how deep it ran beneath the surface, it may have that number in staff alone.
His sightseeing was cut short as the medics rushed him through the doors. They took him down a winding path, passing all manner of nurses, doctors, and patients. He saw all manner of ailments. From seemingly surface level scrapes all the way to entire sections of shells missing and seized limbs. A few more turns and there were no more physical injuries. The holographic sign at the end of the corridor read 'Psychology Sector'. Leaving him astonished that he could read Cybertronian as the sign disappeared from view.
He was ushered into an empty office in an equally empty hallway. From what the nurse told him, he needed to wait there until a doctor by the name of Crosswire arrived, which would be shortly. As Jax sat there in the white room with steel furnishing, he couldn't help but draw parallels between this place and a hospital on earth. The similarities were so many that it was scary. The only major difference as far as he could tell was that the metal berth he was sitting on had no cushions. It wasn't uncomfortable, though. It seemed that Cybertronians were immune to uncomfortable seating.
Several minutes passed and the door retracted into the wall with a faint hiss before closing again behind the new occupant. This bot was mint green in color and had painted bands around his arms done in orange and white. Looks like staff higher on the totem pole had different dress policies than everyone else. Before the bot even spoke, Jax was peeved that he was, yet again, almost child sized compared to this individual.
The bot looked between his data pad, for that's what Jax figured out they were called, and him. He eventually reached a hand out and offered a stoic greeting. Jax Dugen? I'm Crosswire. I'll be your caretaker for the duration of your visit. From what I understand, you've been stripped?"
"Well, at least that's what everyone thinks has happened." Jax replied. He gave the doctor the story that had, by now, formed of its own accord. Crosswire listened patiently, only cutting in to ask questions. When Jax had finished the short recount of his day, Crosswire finally took action. "Here's what we're going to do Jax. The transport medics did a surface brain scan correct? Yes, well I'll be doing a deep scan. It operates on the same principle, but it will tell me if your data banks have been damaged or if they've been erased. I'll also repeat the physical examination to confirm what my data pad is telling me, okay?"
Jax nodded his head and the doctor reciprocated it before retrieving numerous pieces of equipment from the cabinets beside him. With a few keystrokes on his data pad, he had requested a brain scanner to be delivered. Per the doctor's instruction, Jax layed down on the berth and was startled as it tilted up. Crosswire attached adhesive patches all around his head and connected them to a terminal on top of a cart. He wheeled to stands, one on each side of the birth, that had a strange apparatus on them in likeness to satellite dishes. "Alright, you shouldn't feel anything at all, but you might hear very quiet static. Let me know if anything seems wrong."
Jax gave a thumbs up and waited patiently. He expected the machine to make some sort of noise or light up, yet it remained as it was. Jax started to hear the static as mentioned and was slightly discomforted by it. It wasn't like he was hearing a sound, it was like he was picking up something inside his head. It was not unlike tinnitus.
This continued for a few minutes until Crosswire gave a concerned hum. Jax tried to look at him without moving his head. "Something wrong?"
Crosswire pressed a button and the static fell away immediately. "Physically, no. In fact, you're in perfect shape, but that presents another problem."
Jax looked at him worriedly. "What kind of problem?"
"You're showing no signs of concussive damage, which is good, but there is no evidence of data wiping either." Crosswire said.
Jax knew that's about what he would find, but he still had to play the part of anxious patient. "What does that mean?"
"That whoever stripped you, knew what they were doing. They didn't simply cut and nab, they made it seem as if you'd never had any of your equipment in the first place, you don't even have your I.D. etched on you anymore. The scanner read that you have only about thirty or so Stellar Cycles worth of data, which is impossible since you'd still be a protoform less than half your size. The fact that you know your name and still have all your internals with you is a miracle. Moving forward, we have to figure out exactly who you are. I already sent a request for a records clerk to come out and run a check to find you in the system."
Jax became victim to his own anxiety hearing that. He knew how serious not having an ID was as a human and wasn't sure if it was the same here. While they waited for the clerk to show up, Crosswire ran through several knowledge checks to evaluate how much Jax actually knew of himself. As predicted, Jax only knew how to speak and read, but knew terribly little about his own history or even Cybertron's. "And the fact that you use so much Earth lingo suggests that the person who did this really wanted to make it hard to identify you."
Jax almost got whiplash from what he heard. "Earth lingo?"
Crosswire raised a brow. "I suppose it tracks that you wouldn't know right away considering your jumbled mind, but a lot of your language has Earthen influence. To summarize, Earth is a small planet full of Bipedal organic beings quite a few galaxies away. It was a planet heavily affected by the war here on Cybertron, but since the conflict ended, Earth entertainment has become quite popular thanks to the influence of the heroes. So it's not surprising that a young bot like yourself would have picked up some of their culture."
"The heroes?" Jax asked, though he was sure he knew the answer.
Crosswire nodded his head. "The heroes who revived and started the reconstruction of Cybertron. History has it that they were stationed on Earth in the very last period of the war alongside Optimus Prime. Rumors state that they missed the planet and the beings known as humans so greatly that they built the deep space communications tower for the express purpose to indulge in human culture."
Jax found the thought amusing. Knowing how much Bulkhead likes his monster truck rallies and metal music, and Bumblebee with his videogames, he could easily picture it. But the way Crosswire spoke about it seemed off. "How long ago was that? The revival of Cybertron, I mean."
Crosswire frowned at him. "It's a terribly bad sign that you know so little about such a major historical event. The revival of Cybertron occurred a vorn ago."
Jax felt sick. He tried his best to not let it show. Alpha Trion and Solus warned him about the passage of time, but for over eighty years to pass. That meant everyone he knew was gone… Jasper might not even exist anymore.
"Are you alright Jax? You seem distressed." Crosswire asked, breaking Jax out of his daze.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess it's just now hitting me. My whole situation and all." Jax said weakly.
Crosswire nodded sympathetically. "It's not an easy thing to come to terms with. The Guards remain ever vigilant, but as long as there is something of worth, there is someone willing to take it."
Wasn't what Jax was referring to, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. Before long, the clerk arrived. A lanky bot of chrome with the disposition one would expect of a librarian. His name was Netchex and he sounded quite young for someone of his profession. Not too keen on conversation, he was quick to scan his face and puzzle at what his screen had to show. "No matches."
He punched in Jax's name and even tried a biometric scan, but sure enough, as far as the government was concerned, he didn't exist. Netchex studied Jax with a face of mild annoyance. "Well this won't do. I thought it was a bug, but the bio scan disproved it. You were never registered upon formation."
"Is that even possible?" Crosswire exclaimed.
"It's rare now, but not unheard of." Netchex confirmed. He started to type away at an incredible rate while still talking in a relatively disinterested tone. "In the chaos of rebuilding Cybertron from the ground up, there were quite a few cases of protoforms and adolescents being abducted by crime organizations for reformatting or dismantling. Even rarer, some of these bots who are abducted fall through the cracks, or the crime gangs try to dispose of evidence. My theory is that they tried to reformat you and something went wrong, so they tried to wipe your memory, leaving you in this state."
Jax became really nervous. "You're not saying I'm a criminal, are you?"
"No. I am saying you were almost turned into one. Reformatting can be as simple as cranking up your aggression circuits, or disabling the circuits responsible for sympathy. Though you hardly hear of it now thanks to the guards. You must be one of the last cases of such a thing." He said sympathetically."
"So what now? What happens to me?" Jax's relative calmness seemed to be bothering the two bots, but he wasn't good at acting. Thankfully, neither of them called him out for it."
Netchex typed a few more things onto his terminal before folding it up and preparing to leave. "Simple, you're gonna come with me so we can give you an identity."
The unexpected answer made Jax blink. He didn't think it would be that simple.
"If I have to tell you hunks of scrap to pick up the pace one more time, I'll give you a real reason to be slow!" The threat from Arcee through the comm spurred her team onward, even though they were about to collapse. Despite the fact that AT1 was several minutes faster than anyone on completing the endurance course, she still drove them like newly badged cadets. For over four arcs they had been pushing themselves to the limit.
Not a single one of them dared to so much as click their tongues at the captain, for she had already been lapped by her twice over. Even though the course was forty kliks of running, climbing, crawling, driving, shooting, crying, dodging, and more crying, Arcee had memorized and ran it perfectly every lap. Her rule was, if any one of them could go five laps around the track without her passing them once, she'd allow the lucky winner one day where she had to follow their orders. That challenge was made only shortly after the team was formed, and yet none had managed to complete it.
The closest was Sidewinder. Because of his flight, the difficult terrain didn't mean much to him, and while there were sections of the course that involved high wind, he was a pro at handling turbulence. He always came up short in the legwork section, however.
Once again, she mopped the floor with the rest of her team. As she stood idling at the starting line, one by one the other team members joined her in various states of fatigue and irritation. Dyna was particularly in a bristling mood, as she came in last behind Garrison for the third time in a row. She was faster both on foot and wheels, but was abysmal at the shooting section. No matter how much extra marksman training she was given, she just couldn't improve.
When Arcee deemed they had recovered enough, she addressed them coolly. "While better than last time, you all are beginning to plateau. From now on, we'll be adding this as a weekly routine instead of monthly."
Their frustrated groans filled the space around them as soon as she said the words, an action she only permitted because of how grueling it was. Dyna was brave enough to actually voice her displeasure. "But captain, we are leagues ahead of all the other squads, we're already the best! Why are we spending all this time training when we could be doing actual good with our patrols?"
Arcee glared sharply at the femme. "To be the best, you have to beat the best, trooper. If you are the best, then you have to keep improving. We have to be at the top of our game to make sure we all come back from our missions. Busting a petty thief doesn't make you better at fighting killers."
Dyna made to argue again and Arcee pointed a finger at her, her voice becoming low and dangerous. "One more word and I'll replace our daily workout with it."
The fiery femme glowered back, but remained silent. The rest of AT1 watching the events as still as the dead. The staring contest lasted only a few moments before Dyna looked away. Arcee waved her hand in a spinning gesture to 'wrap up', meaning they were off the clock and off the hook. Covered in dirt and debris, they were all eager to get cleaned.
Arcee was far ahead of the rest of them, keeping to herself. Something that they weren't exactly opposed to. Triage stretched her arms and let out a satisfied sigh. "I can't wait to take a wash! It's like the track gets dirtier every time we use it."
"I don't know what you guys are talking about, it seems like you all are just bad at running it." Sidewinder taunted.
Slapshift slugged him in the shoulder before throwing an arm around his neck. "Don't you even start with that. Every time you pass over, you kick up a cloud of dust and stones so bad that I have trouble seeing. You are PART OF THE PROBLEM."
"He's not wrong. It's like getting sand blasted. It'll take all day to buff these out." Garrison quipped in his low voice, pointing at all the imperfections in his paint. He had become much more open to them as time trekked on, while not quite talkative, he would now at least joke with them.
Dyna, having yet to cool off, chimed in with her own sharp joke. "Or you can follow our glorious captain's lead. Then we can all be like the cool war heroes."
They didn't need to look at their captain to know what Dyna was saying. While it was expected for any bot to maintain a cleaning and buffing schedule pretty regularly, service bots like themselves especially so, Arcee had just seemed to give up doing such a thing. For a while now, she had been allowing more and more damage to build up on her shell, and now there was hardly any part of her without, at the very least, scratches. Some of the deeper gouges from missions had even started to form a patina. She even has gotten complaints from other captains concerned about public appearance, but no one tried to make her do anything because of her perfect service record.
It also didn't escape AT1's notice that their captain had a much shorter temper than before. They had thought it was because they were becoming too casual at work, so then they pushed themselves to be a perfect squad for her. However, it didn't change anything. She just kept pushing them harder and harder and she only got meaner. They hadn't confronted her about it since she didn't act that way off the clock, but then again, she hardly interacted with any of them at all outside of work anymore. She used to at least accept one of their invitations to hang out every once in a while, but now they wouldn't even know she existed if she didn't show up to boss them around everyday.
They also had no clue who her friends were, if she had any, so they couldn't ask them to see what was up. Triage being the most empathetic of the group, stopped Dyna's criticism in its tracks. "Don't say things like that, Dyna, you don't know what she may be going through. While she may be a bit hard on us, we've always come back from missions intact, she probably just worries."
"I'm not too sure about that, Tri. If that were the case, Wouldn't she have been hard on us in the beginning and ease off as we got more experience under our chassis?" Slapshift pointed out.
Sidewinder decided to share his thoughts on the matter, the usually laid back and sarcastic bot actually being very sympathetic. "Yeah. Whatever this is, It has to do with whatever that 'visit' was after the bust on Bombardier and his gang, remember. She started acting differently after that."
"She probably got dumped for being a sparkless witch." Dyna growled, much to the disapproval of the others. She wasn't the most patient type, and she was prideful as well, meaning that the captain's new training methods weren't well received.
They passed through the arch that marked the entrance and exit way of the training compound. While AT1 were chatting with each other, Arcee heard the familiar data pad notification sound. While most people had a stand alone data pad that they would carry with them, Arcee's profession came with the perk of having an integrated system. Stopping just before getting on the road, She raised her left forearm and brought it horizontally to her line of sight. A panel slid open and a narrow, black screen folded out from her arm. With a thought, her message box opened, revealing a handful of spam, promotions, and the stray news article from Earth that Ratchet thought she'd be interested in. The latest message was from the I.G.P.G city wide notices for all precincts, as well as a special request for her team. Her expression hardened as she read the details.
"Slapshift, Can you come here for a moment? I have a request for you." The group were a second short of being on their way for the day when she had asked the question. Slapshift nervously walked up to his captain, ignoring the 'oohs' and whispers of him being in trouble. Arcee looked up at the wary bot and shared what she learned, waving the rest of them away for this was a private conversation. "A city wide notice to all guard captains had just gone out. Apparently there's been a new reformatting victim found in Iacon. AT1's got first dibs on the case."
"Really? I thought that was dealt with a long time ago." The big bot said surprised.
"Me too. Seems like those botnapping scum didn't learn their lesson, so now it's up to us to give them a gentle reminder. I'm gonna give the others the heads up, in the meantime, I want you to go meat with the victim and help them out. It's code blue, level 0, and you're the best at working with civilians. Are you up to the task?"
Slapshift eagerly nodded his head. The captain never gave him solo assignments, always saying that he needed to mature a bit more. Now was the opportunity he needed to prove himself. The captain eyed him with scrutiny before turning away and heading towards the others. "I'm going to forward the details to your pad, mission starts effective immediately. Don't let us down, trooper."
Slapshift tried hard to hold in his enthusiasm until she was far enough away. His custom notification sound played. It was the theme to an old human show about their version of guards, police, if he remembered right, with colorful clothing and 'mustaches'. He popped open his data pad and read through the notes the captain left him. This mission would be a piece of cake. In a case of reformatting, code blue referred to the relative stability of the victim's mind and memory, and level 0 represented at what stage of life they were at. That meant this poor bot hadn't even gotten his I.D. when he was nabbed, but he was in a stable condition. Since the whole epidemic of reformatting died down so much, the usual assistance centers have since disbanded, and the duty fell on the guards to assist the individuals in getting them on their feet.
Literally, Slapshift's mission was to be friends with the bot. Not even annoyed at being called back on duty so soon, he transformed and headed down the road. Now he just had to go and find him. "Iacon Hall of Records, here I come."
In front of a metallic, dome-shaped building that looked like the roman pantheon, but was the size of mount everest, Jax stood speaking with Netchex. The Iacon Hall of Records had left Jax awestruck by its scale. When he commented that it seemed like overkill for a library, Netchex informed him that it stored any and all data for the entirety of Cybertron spanning back to the earliest days of Cybertronian life. While there were buildings in every city that served the same purpose, the Iacon Hall of Records acted as a backup for all of them. Marking it as one of the most important locations on the planet.
"Of course, there was a lot of information lost or outright destroyed in the war, but the depths of this place reach so deep that to destroy it all means to destroy the planet itself." Netchex said profoundly, finishing what was essentially the typical script for tour guides.
Jax had remained attentive for the whole story, appreciative for the vast amount of insight he had gotten from it. Since they were making Jax's identity up from scratch, it was a pinch to get him everything he needed. Now equipped with an ID, comm link, GS, and a data pad provided by the charitable Iacon Public Assistance Foundation, Jax was now waiting for the guard who would assist him in his first steps of his new life.
It was pretty unbelievable, he thought, how streamlined all of these assistance programs and such were. He went from having a health checkup, building an identity from scratch, to now going to find a place to live and employment, all in a single day. If this happened to him on Earth, he'd play the lottery.
He wasn't completely surprised though, in their correspondences, the bots all had told about how they were gonna build a no being left behind system when rebuilding their home. They said it was essential, as the tensions early on would be at their highest while survivors of the war all flocked in from deep space. The goal was to prevent another conflict of such scale from occurring.
The street was busy with innumerable passerby. Jax passed the time by trying to spot the officer whom he was to meet. He wasn't sure what to expect. They were apparently elite crime fighters who were constantly combatting some of the most cunning and ruthless criminals Cybertron has known. Which truthfully didn't mean much to him. He saw psychopaths like Silus, Airachnid, and Megatron first hand. He supposed it wasn't right to judge the guards without even meeting them, however. Afterall, it took a sick mind to kidnap Cybertronian youths and literally force them to be criminals. They had their challenges too. Though, they were technically his as well. The prospect that this was his home now had yet to cement itself.
There was a subtle shift in traffic on the street that caught Jax's attention. Several people slowed down and started to distance each other in a very proper fashion. That's when he noticed a white sporty looking car pull up to the curb with a strange glass hump on the top of it. The bot transformed and began walking with gusto up the many stairs that led up to the plaza Jax was in. It clicked that the glass hump he saw was a light bar, and judging by the markings and insignias that didn't seem fitting for a street racer, this must be the guard he was waiting for.
"Hey Netchex, do you think that's him?" The clerk followed Jax's gaze to the steadily approaching bot. With a nod, he began to descend the stairs, Jax in tow, to greet him.
The bot spotted the pair of them, smiled, and picked up his pace, unaware that he was putting others around him on edge. When in talking distance, Netchex initiated the greeting with an air of bored professionalism. "Hello officer, Are you here regarding my request; ID 1005758934?"
"That's right! Officer Slapshift at your service. I take it this is the bot I'm supposed to meet?"
"Firstly, may I see your service ID and proof of assignment?" Netchex said, unimpressed with the guard's behavior.
Slapshift deflated some, and pulled out a data pad from behind him, presenting it to the clerk. "Err, sure. My service ID is I12-AT1-6."
Netchex read over every detail of whatever was displayed on the device, which didn't take him long thanks to his experience at scanning information. "Very well, everything is in order. I leave Jax Dugen in your care. I wish you luck."
Without waiting for a response from either of them, Netchex had turned and briskly walked back towards the Hall of Records. Jax gave him a quick thanks before turning back towards the smiling guard.
"What was that all about?" Jax asked him.
The officer waved it off nonchalantly. "Pfft, he's just being a clerk. They're the most by the book people you'll ever meet. Speaking of, I'm Slapshift. Jax Dugen was it?"
Jax nodded and shook the hand Slapshift offered, an awkward thing for him since they were so different in size. "That's right."
"It's nice to meet you, Jax. Now they gave me the short version of what's going on. I'll be showing you the basics of what you need to know about Iacon, but first step is we gotta teach you how to drive around here. We'll need to take the transit to the nearest instruction facility, which will be a long ride. How about you give me the details on the way?"
He only nodded in response, which was enough for Slapshift to start walking back towards the busy street, Jax right behind him.
The 'Transit' was essentially just any form of public transit, and in this case, that meant a bus. Per Slapshift's request, Jax retold from the beginning about his day. Slapshift had no problem cutting in with comments of his own and going on small tangents about his thoughts on the matter. Jax wasn't very bothered by it, however. It was clear that Slapshift didn't intend to be rude. He was glad that he got such a cheery bot to help him out.
In no time at all, it seemed, they arrived at what was essentially a track that simulated all the types of intersections and traffic situations that one could find themselves in. There were already a small handful of people using the course, all at varying stages of learning. Apparently, all guards had to be qualified to administer and score driving exams, so Slapshift was the one to teach him the ropes.
Jax was told to start by transforming and driving around in an empty lot for a bit since his alt form was a two wheeler, which was trickier than those with more. Of course, he was able to do that just fine since he spent his morning doing just that. Slapshift gave him the okay and moved him on to the next segment, which was the traffic laws. This was where he really surprised the officer. A lot of the general road laws were much of what Jax was used to, so he picked them up like nothing. There were only a few things done slightly differently, like proper pull over procedure and such.
In only a few hours, Jax had gotten the basics down enough for Slapshift to give him the seal of approval, as well as a certificate of road readiness. Next, They drove around Iacon while Slapshift pointed out important locations. Slapshift showed Jax how to connect comm links so that way they could talk without the interference of road noise. They went to governmental offices, energon depots, markets, etc. There were a lot of businesses which were part of the shopping district that dealt with accessories, music, gadgets, and other such luxuries, but Slapshift said those were places Jax could check out on his free time.
The sun was beginning to fall on the horizon, and traffic was starting to thin. When Jax mentioned this, Slapshift told him not to worry and that they were almost finished with the tour. In fact, they only had one place left to stop at, allegedly.
After a considerably long drive, They had made their way back around to a tall high rise building not too far from where they had begun their journey. It mostly consisted of that silvery metallic color that adorned much of Cybertron's architecture, as well as highlights of blue and green. The structure itself wasn't rectangular, rather, it was almost triangular. While the right side of the building rose up as a slanted straight edge leaning to the left, the other side rose up from the ground for a few floors leaning dramatically to the left before quickly shifting back right, rising steadily until it joined at a peak with the right side again.
While standing taller than its neighbors, the building would be hard to spot unless you were looking for it, as it was in an area where the buildings were in very close proximity. Slapshift led him through the octagonal front door. The lobby of the building was occupied by several people mulling about. There was a collection of benches, although he supposed they were sofas as far as Cybertronians were concerned. There were potted plants of what must've been full grown trees. There was even an energon bar.
Approaching the front desk, Slapshift greeted the receptionist and leaned against it with arms crossed. The femme worker's attention was drawn by the act. "Welcome to Cosmic Tides Housing Units. How may I help you?"
"I sent a notice earlier today. Should be a transmission from IGPG." The femme punched a few buttons on her terminal, before giving him a small black practiced smile of professionalism. "Notice received, Officer Slapshift. The requested housing unit was marked ready at 13:67. Here is your encrypted key. Welcome home, Jax Dugen."
Slapshift turned and placed the key, a thin black stick that seemed more like a usb drive, into a disbelieving Jax's hands. "Here you go, courtesy of Iacon public service."
"You can't be serious, this is…" Jax began. Slapshift cut him off, waving to the receptionist and guiding Jax by the shoulder to the elevator at the back of the lobby. "Don't you even worry about it. Although, there are some terms."
Jax could only look at him curiously as they stepped into the lift.
Hello everyone. The second chapter is done. While I am happy with it, I think from here on out I will use Earth based units of time for the sake of ease of understanding. The issue is that in the Transformers wiki, there are several different spans of time that go by the same name. For example, Cycles, can refer to seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, etc. I am likely also going to do the same with distance as well. Since Jax and Arcee have both lived on Earth for a large span of time. The only use of Cybertronian terms I plan on making in dialogue only. I apologize if this breaks the immersion.
I also have been reading all your comments and very much appreciate the support. I will try and keep my forward momentum going. As for my crossover stories. Wasteland Walker Axle was updated very recently, and I haven't gotten far with the next chapter, but I already know what the direction that it will take. The next chapter for Gift of Wings is already about a quarter of the way done, and I am excited to keep it going. It's been a long time since I've worked on it, and I have been cooking up ideas for it. In the meantime, I'd like to keep hearing your thoughts.
Remember, Praise is nice, but criticism improves my writing. Thank you.