Sparklings could be a real pain.
A real, solid, mind-numbing pain.
Zephyr crouched to peer under the table where she last heard the tittering of tiny peds. Her optics scanned beneath the chair suspension pads for any signs of that little thorn in her side. "Driftbar!" She called sweetly, forcing a smile as she creeped through the kitchen with light steps. "Come on little dude, it's nap time and auntie Zeph has charting she needs to catch up on!"
She glanced around the corner into an office where stacks of data pads sat untouched beside a computer. She clicked the light on and something beneath the desk lurched up, slamming into its metal. As she rounded the desk and pulled back the hoverchair, she found a stumpy black and green sparkling rubbing the top of his helm, optics welled with tears. Zephyr scooped him up, slinging him over her shoulder while he kicked and screeched. "Protest all you want, you need your rest if you want to grow up into a big strong bot some day."
Driftbar grunted, but ceased his fighting and went limp against Zephyr's back. She mounted the steps to the second floor and as soon as she reached the top all her audio receptors could pick up were tiny even breaths buffeting her wings.
Across the second story loft through the last door on the left was Driftbar's nursery. Zephyr slipped inside and set the little sparkling inside his stasis pod. She clicked the glass hatch shut then carefully angled it flat so the tiny mech could curl up comfortably within. Once she was comfortable he was well in stasis she quickly cleaned up his scattered toys and data pads and turned up the projection switch by the door. The windows blacked out and the ceiling lit up in a vibrant cloud of fiery reds and mystifying purples and blues all dotted with thousands of burning stars.
The Autobot nurse gave one more glance to the little sparkling in his pod, his round, underdeveloped form illuminated in a gentle blue glow. One day he would tower over her, stand proud as an Autobot soldier or peacekeeper. A day she would likely never see. It was rare she ever crossed paths with the sparklings she helped tend once they'd matured. Iacon was too densely populated and with Optimus Prime expanding Cybertron's reach to further planets within further galaxies, the odds of her seeing little Driftbar or any of the others after him matured grew slimmer and slimmer.
Zephyr descended the stairs and cut through the home's common room to grab her own personal data pad she left on the dining room table. She hated to bring additional hospital work when tending to sparklings but Ratchet often demanded she mended the charts of newbie medics and nurses. Of course, she didn't mind the work, there was very little else for her to do in her free time aside from babysitting.
With the data pad in hand, she returned to the common room and sat on the couch after clicking on the holo-tv. She flipped through the channels before landing on a reality dating show. She watched as a full-figured femmebot came onto the screen wearing an expression of exaggerated grief.
"This was no easy decision. You were both so wonderful to me in our time at the mansion, but only one of you had truly won over my spark."
Zephyr scoffed as dramatic music played on the tv. She clicked her stylus and started making corrections to a chart. "She's gonna pick Grinder." She mumbled without looking up at the screen flickering above a fine polished stone mantle. The whole home screamed wealth. Everything with an edge was gilded in gold, reliefs laser carved into the panels of accent walls and even along the floors. Oftentimes Zephyr felt more at home watching sparklings which belonged to more prominent families. Her guardians may have abandoned her, but they didn't leave her with nothing.
"My final star core will be going to… Grinder!"
There was a cacophony of gasps within the show's audience and jovial music played shortly after. "Called it." Zephyr grinned and she continued her work.
After mending three charts and witnessing a handful more of predictable spark-breaks, Zephyr lifted her helm at the sound of the front door gliding open. She stood up from the couch and quickly turned the holo-tv off. A purple and gold femmebot strolled into the common room with a cheerful smile. "Is my sweet little bot down for his nap?" She inquired with a sweet tilt of her round Helm.
Zephyr nodded respectfully. "Yes, ma'am. He gave me a bit of a chase today, he'll be ready for the next step of his development soon."
"Is he fast?"
"Oh yes, very fast." Zephyr returned the guardian's smile. "Might very well be a winner of the Iacon 5000 one day." The Iacon 5000 was a Sentinel Prime thing, but Optimus Prime supported the continuation of it as a celebration of all bots— or most.
The femmebot bounced excitedly on her peds. "My perfect little champion, how exciting! When should we expect him to go off for youngling development?"
"I'll put the recommendation form in today. Processing takes a few solar cycles but I'd say by the end of this lunar cycle you'll have a proper youngling on your hands."
"Fantastic, thank you!" The femmebot shook Zephyr's free hand vigorously. "You know, I'll admit, I was a little hesitant to hire you on given your…" her glossy blue optics briefly shifted over Zephyr's slender pewter and beige form before it halted on her wings, "paternal origins, but you've been handling our little mech so well, he just loves to see you coming up the walkway!"
There was a click and a notification popped up within Zephyr's optics of an immediate credit deposit from the femmebot. She thanked her client for the pay and bonus tip then advised she would follow up later on to discuss Driftbar's further developments.
"I'll see you next week!" Zephyr called as she walked out the door into Iacon's artificial sunlight. She took a deep breath, shutting her optics to soak in the chatter and buzz of the lively city she called home. Above her a roadway rolled into view as traffic barreled down towards the city center. A train passed under the road headed in the opposite direction, blowing a nice breeze against Zephyr's body. She tucked her data pad firmly beneath her arm and started down the walkway.
Iacon was a labyrinth of towering buildings, depots, and train stations suspended in a sphere beneath the surface of Cybertron all of which were gilded and opulent, evidence of the city's ever growing wealth. All around were abundant rivers of glistening blue energon, casting anyone or anything near them in its ethereal glow of life.
Zephyr paused her walk to the nearest train depot to crouch beside one of those energon rivers and placed her hand in the cooling liquid. It flowed between her fingers, tickling the sensitive nerve-endings hidden beneath fine layers of Cybertronian metal. She swirled her hand, smiling at the sensation and the way the energon shimmered when disturbed.
Then her helm beeped again.
Request for Communication: Dr. Ratchet
The femme winced and quickly accepted the transmission. "Yes sir?"
"Are you headed back to the med bay? We just had a pretty nasty pileup on the northern sector's turnpike. Multiple injuries, possibly one DOA. It'll be all hands on deck."
Zephyr shook the energon off her hand and ran down to the train terminal, shoving through crowds of transformers already in line to board. "I'll be there ASAP."
There was a gruff hmph. "Good bot. Go safely. I'm not interested in having to scrape my best nurse off the tracks."
"Yes sir!"
The transmission ended just as Zephyr stumbled into one of the train cars amid a chorus of obscenities directed at her. "Sorry." She whispered, lowering her optics. Several of the other Autobot passengers continued to grumble, spitting out nasty names such as 'crossbreed' or 'con spawn.' It wasn't unusual to hear such derogatory terms thrown her way when venturing out in public, but she did her best to tune them out, to remind herself that their hate to her alluded to a deeper hate of themselves.
She reached up and twisted one of her audio receptors to pick up a local music radio and shut out the chatter around her. As the melodic hum of a synth orchestra filled her helm, Zephyr took a seat and leaned her helm against the window glass, shuttering her optics for the duration of the ride.
A warning that her stop was approaching woke Zephyr from her brief stasis nap. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and stretched up to her feet, carefully pushing her way through to the doors as the train slowed to a gentle stop. The small femme made sure to be the first one off while the orchestra crescendoed to a dramatic climax in her head. It buzzed her senses, her peds moved with determination as she ran to the Iacon Repair Ward where a line of emergency transport vehicles sat at the ambulance bay, their lights still flickered between red and white.
The music continued through the front doors, drowning out the noise of the emergency room as varying degrees of carnage from the accident rolled by on cots surrounded by care teams. Zephyr tossed her data pad at the admissions desk then turned the music down just as the tune changed from something light and cheerful to a jarringly mournful ballad. "Where's Ratchet?" She asked the yellow femme behind the desk.
"He just went down to surgery," the other nurse replied, handing Zephyr a new stack of data pads. "He asked me to give you these. They've all been admitted and are mostly stable. Eleven Beta is going to need an X-Ray within the hour and Twenty Omega needs to be prepped for a double amputation later this evening. Oh!" The nurse stood up from her seat and pulled out a pad and gave it a gentle tap with her sharpened fingers. "This one needs to be brought to the morgue. Our transporters are all backed up and we need their room. Take care of that first please, Zeph."
Zephyr nodded and hoisted the stack of pads. "Thanks, Sunnie." She then reached to her receptors and turned the music back up.
Morning's twilight rolled around, bathing a sleeping Iacon in vibrant oranges and violets. There was no music. Zephyr had laid out on her back atop the medical ward's roof in purposeful silence. Every inch of her was sore, the gears in her shoulders and thighs had nearly stripped, her lungs gasped for fresh air rattling the vents along her chest. Her optics trained on the pointed rooftop of the archives which hovered above. She recalled stories of Optimus Prime only ten cycles ago breaking into those very archives to find clues to the whereabouts of the Matrix of Leadership. It was difficult not to wonder if he knew just how much his life would change after he jumped from the window to escape the guards.
"Orion Pax," she whispered softly to herself, then breathed a laugh. She always considered Optimus to be a clean-nosed straight-shooter, but knowing the rebel he was only a short time ago brought a sense of satisfaction. His actions validated the tugging in her chest that maybe she was meant for so much more. Rarely did she dwell on the monotony of her work, and to call working in the medical field monotonous felt wrong, but she wondered what else there was. What laid beyond the surface.
Four more bots died under her watch that evening. Though her and death were no strangers, seeing its raw brutality had her contemplating her own mortality. Whether or not she was wasting her time watching others die.
A knock at the door behind forced Zephyr to rip her gaze from the archives. She sat up as the door slid open with a pneumatic hiss to reveal the bulky red and white grump himself looking just as worn through as she felt. "Hey, Ratchet."
"You should go home, Zeph." The mech said as he waltzed over and sat on the ground beside her. "It's been a long night for everyone. I'll likely be turning in soon myself."
"Yeah, I just wanted to come up and clear my head." Zephyr tucked her knees to her chest then rested her helm upon their curve. "Cool mornings like this have a way of cleansing the body and mind."
Ratchet took a deep breath in through his nose. He was old, older than most, but there was still the twinkle of youth in those dull blue optics. Most nurses detested the gruff old mech, but Zephyr saw him as a friend, and some days, a father figure.
More silence passed between them before Ratchet reached over and gave his nurse a firm pat between her shoulders then pulled her close in a sideways hug. "Go home, kid, I mean it."
"Okay," Zephyr rested her helm on the mech's shoulder for a beat, they watched the artificial sun continue to rise, changing the world from purple, to red, to orange. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yep," Ratchet pushed himself to his feet with a groan from his throat and his old joints. He then held out a hand for the femme. Zephyr took it and the strong mech effortlessly pulled her upward. "Need me to walk you to the station?"
"No," Zephyr offered as sweet a smile as possible but the mech's wrinkly mouth twisted. "I'll be fine, thank you, Ratchet."
"Alright," he patted her between the shoulders and left her standing while she continued to watch the horizon.
Zephyr leaned against a column beneath the train terminal's canopy. Her optics felt heavy and she turned up the volume on her music to help wake her more. This time the melody was harsh, almost cruel. Its jarring notes triggered her adrenaline and the exhaustion weighing her down lifted.
She checked the time on her data pad and looked around; the train still hadn't come, but the crowd grew. She quickly realized the mechs and femmes surrounding her all seemed on edge. Their optics darted at the slightest sounds, they spoke in hushed voices, and none of them could stand still. Their behavior put the young femme on edge so she forced her optics forward and through to the other side of the platform which sat empty. Above them flickered holoscreens showing ads for high-slick lubricant, university scholarships, and job openings at Iacon's city offices. When the screen changed again it was nothing but a depiction of Megatronus Prime's sigil which had been adopted by the Decepticons as a symbol of the strength in their rebellion, along with a simple warning:
Beware All Who Wear This Badge
Zephyr's spark sunk to her peds and she looked back down to the tracks just in time for the train to roll in. She jumped inside the car with her back to the large screen then scrolled through her pad as the rest of the crowd filed in— a mech took the spot beside her. She could feel him watching her, but a sudden shift in direction drew both of their attentions. They had gone vertical and the heavy mech barely caught himself before crushing Zephyr's frame.
"What the hell?!" Zephyr cried. She pressed up to the window to find they were barreling towards an opening in Cybertron's surface. After turning her music down, she grabbed the red mech who nearly turned her to flat scrap, startling a yelp out of him. "Where are we going? What train am I on?!"
"This is a secret convert train!" The mech's voice trembled under Zephyr's icy glare. He held his free hand up, the other he used to steady himself upward with a pole. "We're headed to Kaon, the Decepticon capital city on the surface!"
The train abruptly leveled out, knocking all its passengers to the ground and against each other. The car filled with painful groans and swears while Zephyr's audio receptors rang with fear, but she snapped to as the mech in her grasp tried to break free. She tightened her grip on his collar piece and he clenched his teeth from the stinging pain. "Why are we going to Kaon?"
The mech tugged at her arm, but that only prompted her sharpened fingers to break his metal. He cried out, his voice rasped by pain. "We're converting! We're pledging ourselves to Megatron!"