Minions to Madness : Part 1
Age (Translated in Human Years): Roughly 6
She had come to this world with no name. A clean, innocent soul trapped in the webbing of war. Like so many of the Sparklings that were abducted by the Decepticons when she was nothing but a newborn, Nova had no clue what she was getting into. Even more interesting to many of the Decepticons now, however, was that they were not just any ordinary newborns.
The runt of freshly mutated Cybertronians, ‘Striker was by far the smallest of them all. Her CNA being a production of both Cybertronian origin and the development of engineering on Shockwave’s behalf of semi-organic species that were tested positive to Cybertronian breeding aids. It had worked.
Many were skeptical of whatever uses half-organic Cybertronians could offer. There had been many flaws in some of the previous designs. So many babies tainted or breed with sickening, twisted results; unable to breathe certain chemicals in the air and suffocating to death. Others unable to transition over to Energon as the substance would eat them from the inside out.
So, as small and stupid as many would consider the Techno-Organic breeds, they were miracles. Part science, part dedication and entirely curious creatures to study. As no mech in their right mind however would wish to spend their lives caretaking for younglings, a femme Triple-Changer had been put in charge of caretaking the sparklings.
“Stay close, little ones,” soothingly called Galacticwave; a femme nearly as tall as Lord Megatron himself but nearly a stick in comparison of width. “Now now, Skycomet quit fighting with Astro. Electra I told you a thousand times that that bolt isn’t yours; you need to give that to a medic! It could have belonged to something important! Silverluna for Primus sake-“
Boring, Novastrike thought as she remained by the silver and black trimmed Seeker-Vehicle’s side to look over at her fellow Techno-Organic’s. Many of the others had inherited more of the Cybertronian breed in height, as most of them were already a good nine feet on average. Whereas she, an unnoticeable white furball with striking metal paneling, was only a mere five foot and much less stocky and bulky in build.
“It’s not play time children, we’re only moving to the other section of the ship. Oh- Lord Megatron a word-“ the femme caretaker called, nudging all of her little ones in a pile and giving a stern optic to them all. They all giggled; the little trouble makers, and began to huddle up and whisper diabolical scheming as Galacticwave marched across the control room to speak with the leader of the Decepticons himself.
All it seemed were up to plotting no-good but the single runt. Nova glanced around the bustling room at all the large, intimidating figures walking around. If the sparklings had not been in a heard off to the side of the traffic of footsteps, she felt certain they would have been stepped on without a second thought.
She was virtual the unnoticed one in the group, even by her own peers. It was odd, considering how bright her coloring and the sharp intelligence of blue optics; not red or yellow or purple like many of the other Sparklings. Out of all of them she looked the most unique, yet received none of the attention one would expect from a unique offspring.
Sure, Galacticwave praised her endlessly for her good behavior and lack of ambition like the others, but that was because she was less trouble. And around here, you wanted to be trouble; to be recognized for being a bad egg. Novastrike knew this deep in the core of her very Spark; she was young but not stupid. The smell of death and bad Energon was everywhere here; sour and tangy and the hateful expressions and dark emotions brooding in the air.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to be a bother, even with the expectations upon her. She was quiet, she would listen, and she would obey. No matter how incredibly boring it was, staring across at all the Seekers and Flyers, the Grounders and the various indications of medics and foot-soldiers to drones and Lieutenants walking by.
Nova’s optics scanned the room some more as the others chattered, observing the behavior and characteristics of those at work. Everything was running in synchronization and not a single pede moved out of place of another. It was like a well oiled machine, and she was nothing but a speck of dirt watching the clock tick on.
A feeling like no other suddenly entered Novastrike and she was pulled forward to enter the mechanics. It was an impulsive; a reckless desire to not be the dust for once in her life. She wanted to be in the action, she wanted to see what it was and taste it on her glossia. She didn’t want to spend her time with the other sparklings; pranking and being mischievous and rowdy when she could be a part of this, a network of something bigger that was radiating with a strive, but a strive for what, exactly?
She was in too deep already, and didn’t know it. Outside of the comfort of her group, no one noticed her. Literally; pedes came suddenly crashing down around her, nearly knocking her down and meeting her tail as she curled it close to her body. The excitement was gone and she was suddenly anxious; not daring to make a noise for fear her caretaker would hear and round on her like she did the others so many times.
Squeaking in fear, she leapt and dodged this way and that to avoid being stepped on by the tremendous size of all these large, adult Cybertronian pedes. She was so little and everyone was so busy that she went unnoticed; leaping between legs and around foreign items that she had no idea what they held. Her body twisted; arching and flattening and crawling beneath hovering carts and terminals as she whimpered pathetically.
What made her think that she could be anything other than the particles of dust that watched? She couldn’t just walk into the system; she couldn’t just make a leap of faith like that! Her form shivering, the white lioness flattened herself to the floor and crawled over to a single area where no one seemed to be frequenting; far on the other side of the control room from her fellow Techno-Organic’s.
The air in this section almost seemed to drop twenty degrees and her protoform was crawling as Novastrike edged out to peek around where she was hiding. It took her a moment to realize that those were pedes just a few feet to her right and slowly, very slowly her optics went to glance up, only to have to crane her neck back as far as it would go to spot the faceplate of the one she was hiding beside.
The giant didn’t seem to notice her. He was hulking; large and far more intimidating than anyone in the room. His digits were blunt and bigger than she was, tapping and pecking away at a terminal Cybertronian keypad with swift movements.
Her optics move in little terrified jerks as she tried to take it all in. This mech was even larger than Lord Megatron, who she had seen less than half a dozen times in her short life. He was bulky, large, and looked like one of the black shadows you would hear in spooky stories or the crashes in the dead of night when you were trying to recharge. The only thing not black on the humongous figure were his eyes; and they were as red as any other Decepticon’s she’d seen; the color of fire and blood.
Her entire form was stiff now as she brought her arms to her chassis in a fearful gesture to protect herself. Novastrike began to shuffle backward to move away from the solid and massive figure, right back into the path of the clockwork going on steady behind her; the constant and even work of Decepticons who did this routine day by day without trouble.
Alas, it seemed her luck had finally run thin. Just as she thought she was out of range of the mech’s sites, the colossal figure paused in the midst of typing and his optics alone flickered, and moved down to look at her.
Novastrike’s optics froze; her vocalizer trying to form words or cry out for her caretaker but the idea was lost. Her mouth gaped, and she could feel fear pierce her Spark to its core. He wasn’t just large, he almost looked lifeless. There was no sparkle in his optics; not even the sort of light she had seen from someone as scary and mean as Lord Megatron who at least held something in his gaze at all times; some sort of strange sense of power and shifting emotions…
But this thing wasn’t alive; it was a walking monster and she needed to flee. Her pedes suddenly falling over each other as she tripped to turn around and run, moving right into the path of the working Decepticons as she did so.
This time, there was no holding back the petrified scream that ripped through her throat. All she saw was the pede; the thin angle of the leg coming down and she knew she was going to be squished. Like a frightened armadillo, Novastrike instantly dropped down to her knees and grabbed her knees to hug herself into a tight ball with her Spark lodged somewhere in her throat and pounding in her flattened, cat-like ears.
There was no pain but the crash of metal-on-metal was tremendous; like a rocket going off above her head. She wondered if she’d been hit so hard that she was dead, and slowly onlined her optics in a flicker of dull light to see if she was standing at the gates of the Allspark.
Some of the nearby mechs at work had stopped at the scream, but instantly shifted back to work with sour expressions. Confused and afraid, ‘Striker’s optics flickered upward to see the obsidian monster standing over her, and a thin but furious Seeker mech of unknown rank glaring at the beast with hate and loathing.
“I should remove your head for such disgraceful contact to your superior, Blackout,” hissed the silver Seeker; his sharp talon-like claws flashing dangerously in a display to strike at the other mech.
A rumble like the thunder of war emitted from the abyss-mech, and Novastrike found herself crouching into a tighter ball on the floor. Was that sound really coming from that creature? She didn’t think that such a sound came from anything other than storms or the distant sound of explosives going off.
“You nearly stepped on one of the Techno-Organic’s, Starscream,” growled the demon called Blackout. “Watch where you’re going from now on.”
Scoffing, the Decepticon Second-in-Command looked about ready to argue and throw false accusations, until his optics ventured down towards the small femme sitting on the floor. His lips curled up into a sneer, and although absolutely terrified, Novastrike could see read his optics far more clearly than the monster’s.
“I shouldn’t have to watch where I’m going; stupid Techno-Organic sparklings should know better than to get underfoot. Where is your caretaker, sparkling?” sniffed the Seeker as his wings fluttered in agitation; the mech moving to kneel and pick up the youngling.
Afraid and dazed as she was however, Nova wasn’t about to be picked up by this mech. There was something in his optics; something in his gaze that was too calculating and sinister. Cowering, she shrank against the floor and moved to quickly scramble behind Blackout’s leg to cling to the back of his pede. Her entire form shivered in reluctance but it felt a far safer bet than being in the servos of the one projecting their rage now onto her.
“Leave the sparkling alone, Starscream,” Blackout warned; his tone growing more ominous and threatening as he snarled his words.
In a flash, the Seeker’s digits that had been curled to ensnare the small femme moved to lash out; grabbing onto the front paneling of the much larger Decepticon as he glared daggers up at the larger mech.
“Do not speak to me, dog. I could still remove your helm and deliver it to Lord Megatron for attacking the Second-in-Command.”
“I’d love to see you try,” the monster stated in a cool voice as he grabbed the Seekers arm; tearing Starscream’s digits away from his chassis in a single jerk with metal screeching as the sharp talons left light scratches in his chassis.
“Remove your servo from me at once!” Starscream threatened; his optics widening and wings rising up like a bird trying to make itself look larger than it was. “I was merely going to pick up the rat and return it to its caretaker you buffoon.”
Nova craned her neck around and up to spot the larger crow-colored mech’s faceplate. It was twisted now in resentment as he tightened grasp on his commanding officers arm; threatening to break the thing without uttering a word.
Fear grasping her Spark once more, Novastrike chickened out and went back to hugging herself to the back of the monsters leg; the most out of the way spot she could manage while her form quivered with terror. Was the Seeker going to squish her still? Why were they fighting exactly? What was going on in this stupid ship?
“BLACKOUT. STARSCREAM. What is the meaning of this?” a familiar, booming voice interrupted as the large figure of Megatron came towards the pair, the Triple-Changer femme at his heels.
“Your dog attacked me Lord Megatron!” Starscream whinnied pitifully; turning as much as he could towards the tyrant while one arm was nearly being crushed into scrap in the beasts massive servo. “Bid he release me, please my liege!”
“Blackout,” the warlord simply grumbled, making a motion with his servo. Obediently and instantly, the Decepticon Hound dropped his servo to his side and stood at attention.
Reaching up, the warlord pressed his digits to his helm like he was getting a processorache. “Can someone explain to me what is going on over here?”
Taking a step forward; one that caused the Second-in-Command to step back and cower behind his master, Blackout shook his pede until the white Techno-Organic was dislodged in a heap on the floor. The femme let out a fearful yelp and tried to curl up into a ball as the large mech nudged his pede against her to scoot her forward towards the tyrant.
Before the Decepticon leader could even comment, Galacticwave swooped down and picked up the small bundle from the floor; cooing and cuddling the frightened sparkling to her chassis. She shot a dirty look to both commanding officers boldly. Any mech with half a processor knew not to mess with the Triple-Changer when it came to sparklings; she may look sweet and innocent with her softer colors and warm creamish-yellow optics but she was a hurricane of pure, unbridled rage when it came to harming or scaring sparklings.
“An adventurer,” the tyrant stated, sounding amused in a dark and forbidding fashion.
“I don’t understand,” the Seeker-Vehicle stated, turning to look to the warlord as he wings drooped behind her back. “Novastrike’s usually the last one to do things like this; I’m so sorry she got in the way my lord.”
Pinned to the femme’s chassis, the shivering Novastrike glanced over her shoulder and caught the monster looking at her. There was a single flicker of light in his optics at the mentioning of her name; and she had a feeling in the pit of her tank that he wasn’t going to be forgetting it anytime soon.
It made her feel queasy.
“After we move the sparklings to the larger corridors of the ship Galacticwave, I would suggest keeping a closer optic on the lot,” the tyrant stated, giving a hard look to the femme until she bowed her head with muttered apologies.
“As for the two of you,” the warlord snarled, looking towards Blackout and Starscream once more. “I need you both in the briefing room; we have work to be done. Now.”
Straightening the posture of his wings, the Starscream lowered his optics and bowed respectfully to his master. “Yes, of course Lord Megatron,” the Seeker stated in a sneaky voice.
The monsters optics flickering away from the Techno-Organic, for a moment he glanced at Starscream before bowing as well to his master. “As you command, Lord Megatron,” the larger mech stated in smooth reply.
Nodding to the pair, the tyrant took the first steps past the two and towards the control room doors; leaving the Triple-Changer to hug her former good-sparkling to her chassis with worry.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” the Galacticwave breathed out with relief as she gripped Nova a little too-tight for comfort for her chassis.
Squeaking, the femme wheezed and nodded her helm in reply. Her ears folded back, and Novastrike was about to actually respond when a few chilling words happened to catch her keen audios; words falling from Megatron’s vocalizer before he was completely left the room that brought a cold feeling to her Spark.
“We don’t have much time before the planet goes dark,” the warlord stated to the pair in a quiet tone before stepping out of the room; having no idea that his whispered words had been caught by a single sparkling in the room.
The planet going dark? Why would Cybertron go dark? What did that mean? Her processor was whirring; confusion and fear consuming her Spark even as he caretaker cuddled her and rushed her to the flock to gather up all the Techno-Organics to take away to their new, larger room for the ever-growing children.
Novastrike might not be the brightest mind among her comrades, but there was something definitely creepy about that statement. She wanted to voice her concerns to her caretaker, but she was worried enough without thinking that little Nova was hearing something. So she kept her mouth shut; allowing herself to be carried and whisked away down the corridors as well to their new recharging quarters without a meep of the dread sinking in her soul.