LibriumArcana.Games

Three months after the Los Angelos Incident:

And now Los Angelos and most of Southern California is a barren wasteland! the US Goverment has quarinteened the entire area and declared it No Man's Land. All because of these..these...aliens! Come and wage their war on Earth. How much more will we put up with before we take action!"

All eyes rested upon the man speaking. Upon television sets all across the United States and even the world, people were listening to this man's speach.

"I implore the President, get rid of these monsters! Do something!"

Within the Autobot Headquarters, Optimus Prime looked upon the display, before shaking his head. The Autobots had spent countless cycles defending Earth from the Decepticons, yet here they were, no closer to winning the war, only damaging the planet.

Other Autobots watched the scene upon Teletran One's main screen, and mummurs of dessent were begining to spread amoungst them all.


--------

Megatron's fusion cannon blsted out the screen where the human germ spoke. Of course they would grow upset after their pathetic city had been destroyed.

The human did not matter anyway, they would be nothing more than slaves should he have his way, as he drained this planet dry.



OOC: Players begin....

".... you've completely lost your mind."

Wheeljack, resident (mad?) scientist and mechanic extraordinaire of the Autobot expeditionary force located on Earth, had heard that a lot, and more specifically, had heard that a lot recently.

To be yet more specific, he had heard it an awful lot coming from the same person whom he was hearing it from right now.

"I admit, the finer points of this design may be lost on war-addicted philistenes like yourself, but I assure you that I have a perfect knowledge of where my mind is located."

The 'philistene' in question, Ultramagnus, a person most decidedly NOT charged with the advancement of science nor the practice of robot mechanics, groweled his disaproval and replied forcefully.

"This is not about finer points of design Wheeljack. You're here to do a job, not waste our time building whatever floats into your head."

"Those who speak of what they don't understand might be called 'ignorant'."

"Those who prattle on like nitwits and pretend they know what they're talking about around me might be called 'galactically stupid'."

Wheeljack frowned in disaproval as he stepped back up to the workbench.

The object on the workbench, the present cause for disagreement, was a transformer, though only barely. By stature it was barely half the size of the two speakers, and the instruments hooked up to it revealed that by weight it was only a third. The bot was light grey, with sky-blue trim, and an appearance that suggested both human proportions and design. The bot's arms appeared to be airplane wings with hinges and hands attached, and the frame itself, though quite obviously robotic, lacked the usual assortment of tires, fenders, and other extranious vehicular parts that gave Transformers their alien look. The head of the robot even seemed to have a helmet built into it, as though there was actually a brain within the bot's head that needed protecting, rather than a spark stuffed inside its chest cavity.

"I'll have you know that I've run this project through Optimus a dozen times already, and he's given me liscence to complete him." said Wheeljack in his usual inflapable manner.

"Has Optimus actually SEEN this..... thing?"

"This 'thing' has a name, you know."

"You've named it then?"

"Actually Spike was the one who came up with the name. Apparently he based the aeronautical sketches off of a human design that already had one."

"And that was?"

"Hornet."

"Hornet...." Ultramagnus rolled the name around his speaker as though it had a bad taste. "... what's it mean?"

"I'm.... actually not certain. I think it's some kind of insect."

Ultramagnus let out a great booming laugh. "Spike's a genius. That's perfect."

Wheeljack frowned again. "I do not appreciate your humor in this situation."

"Stop talking like Perceptor."

"Then stop acting like Ironhide."

Both transformers frowned at one another, before resuming their conversation.

"So then I'll ask again," said Ultramagnus, "has Optimus actually SEEN this Hornet of yours?"

"Hornet will soon be ALL of ours Ultramagnus, and no, he has not yet seen him. I HAVE however been keeping him updated on all of the specifics of construction and programing."

"No wonder he's been looking sleepy recently...."

"Now look here...!"

"Oh don't give me another lecture! I don't give a single rusted tailpipe about these damned psycho-experiments of yours! You're supposed to be building us something to win this war with, not prattling around trying to build metal humans!"

"I am SUPPOSED to be exercising my own discresion as to what the appropriate direction for research is, and I am DOING SO, thank you very much. Someone who can't be bothered to understand the specifics of a project should perhaps spend less time CRITICIZING it!"

"You should get used to criticism Wheeljack. Once the others take one look at this joke of yours they're gonna have PLENTY to say, and an awful lot of them won't say it as nicely as I've been."

"You've not even spoken to him yet."

"Well how the hell can..... wait a second..... you mean he's ACTIVE?!"

Wheeljack sighed majestically, like a genius among buffoons. "No..... of course not. Don't you think he might have reacted to your insults if he had been? I'm just saying that you should probably wait until you are able to speak to him before you make such judgements."

"And when will that be?"

"I've finished the diagnostics and the spark compilation. I plan to unveil him tonight."

"Talk about your overstatements..."

"The others know what to expect, and I fully anticipate that they will accept him for what he is rather than what you, in your infantile facination with machines of war, would rather than I have built him as."

"Is he.... gonna work?"

Wheeljack recoiled as though struck. "Of COURSE he's going to work! I do NOT simply crank designs out of my workshop like an assembly line! I've FULLY tested and re-tested EVERY circuit in his body! For you to suggest otherwise is...."

"Calm down damnit!" shouted Ultramagnus, raising a hand. "I didn't mean like that. I meant... well... you were talking about all this crazy psycho stuff... mental programming and hand-crafted spark kernals and all that... is that part going to work?"

"Oh..." said Wheeljack, instantly less angry. "... to... be perfectly honest... there's no way to know. I mean I know he's going to be... well functional. The sentience algorithms are no different than yours or mine after all. It's the submatrices that are the complex part. I've run hundreds of simulations and performed several buffer tests, so I'm confident... but again... we'll soon find out."

Ultramagnus nodded. "Yes we will... what Optimus was thinking letting you do this...."

"Optimus was thinking, as I was, that not everything we ever do has to CONSTANTLY revolve around destruction and warfare. What I have attempted to create is a Transformer first and an Autobot second, a concept I doubt you will be able to grasp. And finally I'd like to remind you that Optimus did not LET me do this at all. I informed him both as a courtesy and because I valued his input in the matter. I had no intention of aquiring 'permission' of any sort from him, or from YOU."

Ultramagnus growled again, but turned away sharply before Wheeljack could comment on it.

"I don't like this idea, I don't like this design, and I don't like you pretending that we don't have a chain of command here. If Optimus says you can waste your time like this, then go ahead, but don't expect any different reception from anyone else, and don't expect me to shed a tear when this pint-sized insect of yours gets greased by the first Decepticon to glance crossways at it."

Ultramagnus stomped out of the bay without waiting for a reply, and slammed the sliding door shut behind him.

Wheeljack watched him storm out with narrow optics, before smirking to himself. "We shall see about that my dear Ultramagnus.... oh yes.... we shall see...."

In the underwater base of the Decepticons, two Transformers met for what was common pracitse here, plotting. Though it was perhaps more exact to say that one of them was here to plot. "You.." Scarlet touched Nebula's shoulder. "..and me." She continued pressing her hand against her own chest. "Are sisters. That is a bond the others just can't understand."

Nebula's optics looked to the display of the elevator, she had to descend another six levels. She looked back at Scarlet and sighed, resting her hands firmly on her hips. Scarlet in turn looked a bit vexed at the arrogant posture her past underling had taken.

In the past Nebula had been afraid of Scarlet. Scarlet had always been stronger, and Nebula expected that she still wasnt able to defeat her in combat. But Nebula also knew that Scarlet couldn't afford picking a fight with anyone. If she made one wrong move she would meet she same fate so many past usurpers had.

"I know where this is going Scarlet." Nebula said with a light confident smile on her lips. "And I can tell you now that I'm not interested." *DING* She glanced over her shoulder as the doors opened and she stepped through. "If something isn't broken, don't fix it. Megatron is doing a good job leading us, right?"

Scarlet stood frozen in spot as the doors closed behind Nebula. She hadn't moved an inch after those words. Maybe she was afraid someone had overheard Nebula, or perhaps she was perplexed at how easily her words had been swept aside by her.

'Betraying Megatron was more trouble than it was worth.'

With soft steps(to robotic standards) she walked towards the command room. Today she had to report to Megatron himself the results of her mission. This was rare, in the past she had always reported to Astrotrain or Soundwave. The idea of reporting to Megatron directly was both flatering and discomferting at the same time.

Her mission was a succes, just like all her hit and run missions had been. The site she had attacked today had been better proctected than any of the other sites she had attacked. It was some kind of factory... she imagined. Nebula didn't know and actually she really didn't care either. Her job had been to pick up this small crate and destroy the building afterwards.

As she drew closer to the command room her steps grew smaller. She realized she had never spoken to Megatron direcrtly. Not with more than quick 'yes'es and 'no's. She couldn't help but feel just a little nervous.

As she came to the entrance of the command room she found Megatron watching a Human broadcast. One of the little flesh things was proclaiming something. Nebula didn't bother to listen, Humans were meaningles stupid creatures.

Suddenly Megatron got up and fired at the screen blowing it up. Nebula nearly toppled over with suprise. She looked to the hole in the wall and then to Megatron. "Lord Megatron?" She asked. "Is this a bad time?" She asked with a light smile.

Megatron turned towards the voice, his optics narrowing as he settled upon Nebula.

"Nebula" his gravily voice resounded, "I hope you bring me good news...for your sake"

Megatron's fusion cannon was slightly raised, almost even with Nebula's thighs, as he spoke, if she didn't get the point at the time, she would soon.

The room was dark, lit only by a large monitor, into which the feed from the human official was running. The human seemed agitated, and spoke in angry declarative terms about menaces from outer space and warzones in the streets. Whatever reception he might have garnered elsewhere, he was recieving no sympathy in this room.

Megatron watched with an intense glare that might have been mistaken for depth of interest but was actually hatred and rage. All Megatron knew was hatred and rage, a fact that the other person in the room could tell because they were two emotions he had become deeply aquainted with over the millenia.

The figure in the corner of the room was quiet, as was his normal state. He stood, veiled by the shadows, watching the broadast through half-opened red optics, his arms crossed in front of him as he leaned against the wall. His body was black, jet black, lik the black of interstellar space, and yet it had form and substance, the shadows revealing thick armored plates assembled in a structure both imposing and sinister. A black cape, rustled softly as the air ventilation system moved it, even as the enormous scythe mounted where the figure's right hand should have been tapped against his left arm with a soft, hollow, echoing sound. To an outsider, the figure was the perfect vision of disconcern and ennui, save for the fact that the bright red optics didn't seem to allow one to feel entirely sure of.... anything about the subject.

The door slowly slid open, and in walked another figure. The black figure turned its head slowly, and its optics narrowed. Nebula. This one was called Nebula, and she was returning form an operation.

Megatron suddenly lept up and blasted the monitor to ash with his fusion cannon. The figure in black emitted and audible groan, as though this was some form of imposition on his own personal time. Of all the thoughtless, idiotic....

He did not vocalize these thoughts, and instead watched as Nebula asked if this was a good time.

"Let us recapitulate." said the dark figure, whose given name was Reaper, but whose nicknames were many and invariably fearsome. "... an entire force of so-called 'elite' Decepticon troops managed to annihilate themselves stupidly and wastefully, destroying an entire human city in the process. Every Decepticon with pretentions of power is a craven coward who does not appreciate such things as subtlety or tact, and you have just witnessed Lord Megatron..." the title and name rolled off Reaper's speaker without any hint of deference, "... blast to ashes a piece of equipment because it delivered him a message that displeased him."

Reaper's voice was low and measured, like a distant thunderstorm that threatened to break. His speach shattered the silence of the room. he did not so much as glance in Megatron's direction, for his concern was not with the Decepticon lord but with the Decepticon Lord's servant, and if Megatron decided to take offence, well that was his perogative. In fifty million years, Reaper's demeanor had changed little, so it was hardly new.

Megatron decided to punctuat the matter with his fusion cannon, as usual. Reaper had to admire the fact that Megatron did not make idle threats at least.

"Did you acomplish the objectives set?" Reaper asked directly, stepping over to Nebula, his scythe twitching seemingly on its own, absent-mindedly. "If so, where is the box? If not, precicely what were you thinking coming back here?"

Reaper, so he was here too. This Decepticon was like a nightmare come to life. His very image caused weaker Transformers to tremble in fear. Sometimes Nebula believed the troops were just as afraid of him as they were of Megatron.

"My mission was a succes." She replied, stepping aside as the get out of the line of fire of the fusion cannon. "I always get the job done." She reached behind her back and produced the small box she had collected from the Human factory. She smiled smugly at Megatron and Reaper as she held the box in her hand.

Nebula looked to her other hand idly, as though she was inspecting her nails. "Does no one have faith in my abilities?" She decided to look to Reaper for an answer, not quite daring to look Megatron in the optics just yet. Knowing it was best not to wait for a reply she decided to hand the box over. With a sigh. she kneeled down and placed the box down on the ground.

Getting back up she stepped back, crossed her arms and looked from one to the other. Nebula felt fragile while she stood here with these two powerful transformers. She wondered if one day she could improve enough to measure up to their strength. Or at the very least gain their respect.

Megatron seemed to growl as she set the box on the ground. Nebula was one of the few Decepticons he considered worthy of the name, she always performed her duties.

And she wasn't out to replace him.

"Indeed, unlike some Decepticons, you rarely fail me Nebula..."

Megatron reached for the box, inspecting it for a moment. It was small in his hand, but within it held human technology which would assist the Decepticons.

He handed the box to Reaper, instructing the Assassin, "See this gets to the Constructicons. Let nothing happen to it Reaper."

With that, Megatron turned his back to both of his subordinates, there would be plans yet to unviel...

Words of praize... from Megatron. So the victories she had achieved hadn't gone unnoticed. "I strife to perfection." She replied matter-of-factly. The one compliment had put Nebula enough at ease for her to losen up a little. She started to lean a little more on one leg and her entire posture seemed somewhat casual.

When Reaper received his orders she was even brave enough to make a request. Megatron had turned his back to them and so she directed her request to Reaper. Her lips moved apart, and she froze for a moment as she looked at him. A moment... for just a small moment she felt she couldnt bring up the courage to speak and then.... "Could I join you?"

As she spoke it was as though an imense weight was dropped from her shoulders. She almost felt as though she had achieved a great victory.

Nebula wanted to go with Reaper because he intrigued her. Every powerful Decepticon intrigued Nebula. It was probably because Nebula desired to be powerful herself. That was a trait all Decepticons seemed to share. But while most other Decepticons seemed to fear or envy others with power. She adored them.

If she joined Reaper she might just pick up a few things from him. She was still young, and growing in strength and ability. With the right tutoring, there was no telling what she'd be able to achieve.

Reaper picked the box up and examined it for a moment. It was small, perhaps a foot cubed, and packaged with assorted numerical and human lexigraphical codes. He couldn't possibly begin to guess what was inside it, not that it mattered. When one was as old as Reaper, one aquired a certian jack-of-all-trades aspect. Reaper had made dabblings with engineering, as well as nearly everything else, but he was not a constructicon, nor did he aspire to be one. Aspirations were something he had left behind long long ago.

Nebula turned and asked if she could go with him. For a moment he wondered if this was some kind of veiled insult. The politics of the Decepticons were byzantine and loathsome, as every person fought for influence and favor from his superiors. Was she trying to insinuate to Megatron that Reaper required an ESCORT to reach the Constructicons?

He let his first impression pass and stared her in the optics. No... there was awe in those optics, and it wasn't entirely due to Megatron. Awe tinged with fear, a familiar enough sight that Reaper could tell it from a room away. She wanted to go with him for other reasons, and there was only one way to find out what they were.

"... very well." said Reaper after a pause that was but a couple seconds but must have felt like an hour. He turned to Megatron. "At your command, Lord Megatron." He said those words devoid of emphesis, as though they were but a formality to recite. He did not even pretend to attach the same pestilential fawning bootlicking tone to them that Starscream and many others did. They were simply an affirmation that he was in charge, and a completely un-necessary one in Reaper's opinion. If Megatron were challenged for power, recitations of formulaic statements wouldn't change it.

With that, Reaper turned ad walked out the door, allowing Nebula to follow if she so desired. Nebula was one of the few competant Decepticons, and such a trait was worth a bit of indulgeance perhaps. Nobody, after all, was perfect. Not even himself, and certainly not Megatron.

But.... one learned to get by...

"....very well." Nebula nodded once in reply. This was great. Nebula could tell that Reaper was a wize Transformer, who knew alot about combat. There was no better person for her to learn a few lessons from than him. She was in great luck.

And... Reaper was kinda cool. The way he didn't flinch when Megatron spoke to him. And the way he didn't seem to play the games of intrigue and backstabbing that so many others did.

"Lord Megatron." Nebula said, making a polite nod to him before she followed Reaper. Her tone was clearly respectful, but she made a point of it not to grovel.

She had to make a few quick steps to come in stride with Reaper. When she was she looked to him. He didn't look like one for casual conversation. Maybe it was best for her to get straight to the point. "This... might sound foolish, but I wanted to ask you a something." Nebula's optics sought out Reaper's hoping he would listen to her at least. "Your combat abilities are legendary and well.... I'm a good warrior... but..."

She stopped walking as she tried to refraise. "Ehh..." She made another quick dash to catch up to him again. "I want to get stronger. I want to... get better. And I, well... I mean, I figured that perhaps you could... give me some pointers." Nebula looked to Reaper, with her optics wide open. She hugged herself and gave him the most innoscent look a killer robot could possibly give.

Reaper walked on in his habitual silence, as Nebula stutteringly attempted to ask for.... something. At first he thought she was trying to enlist him in yet another round of the elaborate conspiracies that filled the ranks of the Decepticons. Deep within his armored frame, gears ground at the prospect. Reaper had a decidedly unsubtle approach to power. If someone plotted against you, the appropriate responce was not to undermine their plots with plots of your own. The appropriate responce was to walk straight over to them and tear them bodily in half, along with all those who attempted to assist them. Megatron, for all his faults, at the very least understood that principle. It was the reason Starscream would never rule the Decepticons, and why Megatron did.

Of course.... Megatron understood the principle all too well. Tact was also required. Megatron positively enjoyed oblitterating everyone who ever displeased him, as though it were some form of plot. Perhaps it was the attachment to power that bred his paranoia, but the example only served to prove Reaper's eternally-held mantra. "Fear is the enemy of the mind." All mistakes originated with fear. Fear of loss, fear of adversity, fear of danger, fear of faliure. Fear bred paranoia, fear bred irrational hate, and fear was what led to these endless rounds of byzantine power struggles that he so loathed...

Reaper claimed to fear nothing, and on some days he even believed it himself.

He realized that he had been lost in his own thoughts again, and skipped entirely what Nebula had said. Fortunately there were advantages to being a mechanical form of life. He quickly played back his audio recording and turned his head to her as he walked on.

There was some fear in Nebula's optics. Trepidation at the prospect that he might suddenly lash-out and kill her. Reaper smirked. The aura of destructive calm was one he rather enjoyed cultivating, and more often enjoyed the results of. It caused his potential enemies to fear him, and thus make mistakes. Nebula however was not paralyzed by her fear, even if she was acting a bit oddly. Then again, oddities were nothing he had a right to critique.

"My abilities are likely over-rated." he replied, with no trace of sarcasm at all. He knew it was so. He knew the stories that were told about him among the lower ranks. They served a purpose of course, but morale among the troops was not his concern, and overconfidence was only another manifestation of inner fear. "At my position, everyone's inevitably are."

He halted for a moment, and turned back around, studying Nebula as though he was trying to decide the best location to strike at.

"You wish to improve? To become stronger, better at destroying those your commanders name as enemies? There exists, to my knowledge, no substitute for field experience in this matter, and you have this already, and are likely to aquire more. I do not know your technique or style of fighting, and would be ill-qualified to comment upon it if I did...."

He thought about leaving it at that, but decided, for no certain reason, to go on.

"... there is however more to fighting than the simple matter of connecting one's weapons with the enemy. Of what aspect did you wish.... 'pointers'"?

In Nebula's experience there were four kinds of Decepticons. Fools, Cowards, Backstabbers and Warriors. There were some rare halfbreeds in there, but most of the Decepticons could be placed in one of the above.

The first two categories were ones Nebula didn't concern herself with. The third was one she tried to stay away from as much as possible. They were the ones to look out for, they were the ones to really fear. Because if they found any reason at all to profit from your death, they would take it. Scarlet fell into this category and Nebula was aware that her sister could easily get her killed.

The last category was the one Nebula respected. It became more and more apparant this was the category Reaper belonged to. If she was right Reaper wouldn't do her harm unles she gave him reason to. Fairly confident of her skill to analyse others, with the added reminder that no one would kill her outright removed the last bit of her fear.

Her fears finaly conquered she could listen to Reaper and try to learn from him what she could. "Close combat." She replied. She didn't think Reaper could tell her much about areal bombarment. But it was a certainty to Nebula that he knew 100X as much about close combat than she did.

Her claws slid over her hands and she held them out for Reaper to see. "When I'm in robot mode this is what I have to depend on. My lasers are little more than a distraction to worthwhile opponents. Because my missions generaly keep my away from close combat I haven't been able to practise much. But I know that the time will come that those skills could well save my life."

That wasn't all. She also knew that if she ever wanted to be able to fight off Scarlet, her close combat skills would have to improve alot. But she didn't think Reaper needed to know that.

Reaper gave the slightest nod as Nebula displayed her weapons. He was formualting in his mind a vision of her combat style, and the simplest way of doing that quickly was to visualize himself fighter her and winning. The winning part was for his own sake.

"A warrior must always be aware of his limitations, and the means by which he is capable of being defeated. You have only partly done this. You claim to rely on your claws in close combat, and you have remarked on your lack of practice. Fair enough, but what do the claws mean?"

Reaper raised his scythe.

"I fight with this." he said. "I fight with this whenever I am able to manipulate events into permitting it. I am a master of the art of combat with this weapon. Why? I am not a master of this art because I have done so for many years, nor because I have defeated many opponents, though I have done both. I am a master of this art because I understand my chosen weapon in every respect. I know its tensile strengths, I know its capacity for damage. I know its weight and heft, and how such things translate into action, and more than knowing them, I know them instinctively. I know every aspect of how it will behave when subjected to engagements with other forms of weaponry, ranged and melee. This is why I am a master of fighting with this scythe. If I were to take your claws, and fight with them, I would do so skillfully, for I am a skilled fighter, and I would likely defeat many opponents with them. But I would not be a master of that art, for I do not know the things a master must know."

"You.... know some of these things already. Some of them come through practice, and through trial. You are competant in the arts of killing, and you know something of their style. Mastery of combat however is more than simply experiance. It requires a mindset that few posess the discipline and the attitude for. It requires one of the rarest of all gifts, objectivity."

"There are those who say that believing yourself invulnerable will impart skill. They are fools. Believing yourself invulnerable will impart confidence and courage, which are usefull things, but they do not impart skill. To aquire skill, one must instinctively and objectively analyze all aspects of a situation. If one is overmatched, one must have the mental fortitude to acknowledge it to oneself, and to understand why. It is not a matter of having an ego or not, it is a matter of skillfull and instantanious analysis."

"For example..."

Without warning, Reaper's scythe was a blurred movement, and in a fraction of an instant, he whirled it up, point extended to plunge straight into Nebula's chest like a meat hook.

Alot of what Reaper said made Nebula feel more confident. She had been thinking alot about her fighting style and how to improve it. It had been ineveteable(sp?) that she would consider its strengths and weaknesses as well. So alot of what her new tutor mentioned made alot of sense to her.

Her claws had limited reach, but were both fast and deadly weapons. If she could overcome some of the limitations of the reach of her claws she might well become a better warrior.

It was clear that Reaper believed that in battle one had to rely not only on strength and skill but also on ones witts. It made sense to analyze a situation and to consider what you could and what you couldn't succeed at. Suddenly Reaper whirled into action, Nebula didn't expect an attack and so she only backed away a little before the scythe was at her chest.

She looked at his scythe and then at Reaper. For a moment she was startled, but that didnt last long. "My analyses tells me you've got no reason to hurt me. And that thus, you probably wont." She smiled at him and placed a hand on his to push the scythe away from her chest. To show that she wasn't afraid she looked him in the optics a moment before she continued walking.

"I don't presume to understand everything you told me." She said to Reaper as she made a casual gesture in his direction. "But I think I understand most of it. I... agree with your perspective on battle. There is more to fighting than just skill and strength. You need to chose your battles wisely."

A smile played on her face and she looked over her shoulder at Reaper. "Talking about a fight always makes me wish I was in one. The rush of battle.... there is just nothing that compares to it. I hope Megatron'll have a mission for me soon... Or maybe I could help you on your next real mission."

Autobot Headquarters: American Northwest

Hound sat upon a rock just outside the Autobot's Headquarters, the crashed Autobot Starship known as the Ark, watching the afternoon sun. Earth was so different than thier homeplanet, so vibrant and alive.

He had fallen inlove with the planet and its lifeforms the day he first set footout out of the Ark, after they were all revived over 15 years ago, and aside from the Dinobots, no new Autobots had been built and activated on Earth.

Yet what Wheeljack proposed to do, was more than building a new Autobot, he was bringing a adolescant to life.

Well, Optimus had signed off on the deal, so Hound suspected the Autobot Leader wanted to see what it was all about himself.

It would only be a few hours, and the protoform would be activated. Hound couldn't wait till then.

Hound wasn't the only one waiting for the great revelation WheelJack was about to make. Snow and her entourage of fans were waiting as well. Even though Snow was curious herself she wasn't too keen of the centerpoint of attention shifting away from her. Because of this, Snow was showing the others some of her fancier combat moves.

The last rays of the sunlight were reflected on her twinblades as she moved elegantly through a series of strikes. The others watched in silence they were well aware that Snow didn't like to be interupted. The deadly dance of slashes and cuts which were dealt to inviseable opponents ended suddenly as she planted both blades solidly into the ground.

A few stood up to applaud and Snow smiled at them as she pulled her blades from the ground and re-attached them to her back. She smiled, it was good to be apreciated. "I tried teaching some of those attacks to Ironhide back in the old days. But he kept on tripping over his own feet." She said with a half laugh. The others laughed too. "Well... I suppose he has gone a long way since then." She added and the others stopped lauging.

She sighed. "Well..." She said to them. "I need to take care of something. But I'll see you all during the great revelation of WheelJack's new creation. Cya." She waved at them and walked off.

WheelJack was still young when Snow was around. It was strange seeing him as he was now. He had certainly changed alot.

---------------------

Half a minute later she was at the door to his lab. She smiled as she noticed him hard at work. She sneaked up to him. Her feet touched the ground softly as she came closer. And at the last moment she grabbed him from behind. "BOOO!" She screamed at him.

Snow let go of WheelJack and started giggling. She pointed at him as she took a stap back. "Haha, you should have seen your face!. Oh, WheelJack, when will you ever learn to watch your back." Still laughing a little she picked out a place to sit down.

After she was finaly recovered from her prank, she looked around the room. "So.... where is that project you were working on. I had to see it before the big event. Is this going to be worth my time?"

Reaper's scythe halted a bare milimeter from its target, as Nebula didn't move an inch. He didn't appear to give any outward sign of approval or disapproval. Nebula had apparently taken a massive risk there, but it wasn't so massive as it first appeared. Reaepr was not stupid enough to murder another Decepticon in he middle of the base without any cause at all. Even if he could have gotten away with it (and he could), it simply didn't make any sense.

"Be aware that your enemies will not be filled with restraint, not will you always be able to identify them."

And then, as if to mock Reaper's words, came an enemy that could be instantly identified.

Around the corner came a Decepticon Lord. Tall, slim, arrogant, and collected, his identity was known to all, being the most famous Decepticon alive after Megatron. It was Starscream, Megatron's tempestuous second-in-command, and one of Reaper personal enemies.

Starscream was escorted, as usual, by a half dozen flunkies of various sorts. In Reaper's eyes this was only more cause for contempt. In his opinion if you needed words and slaves to proclaim your importance, you had none.

Starscream stopped when he saw Reaper and Nebula. "What are you two doing here?" he hissed, his contempt as visible as his armor.

"What concern is that of yours?" replied Reaper inflappably.

Starscream hesitated a moment, but with six of his fellow fawning slaves at his back, he had some confidence. "It would be wise for you to address your superiors with more respect, assassin."

Reaper was having none of this. "It would be wise for you to let well enough alone, flier. I am on orders from Megatron. Begone."

"Orders?" mocked Starscream. "You have orders do you? And what might those be?"

Reaper's optics narrowed. "That is not your concern."

Starscream replied. "I will decide what is my own concern. Where are you going?"

Reaper growled his annoyance. "I am delivering a package to the Constructocons."

Starscream laughed a thin, reedy laugh. "An errand boy then? Pity you aren't allowed to participate in the real work that needs doing isn't it?"

"Speak to me in that manner again, Starscream, and I will demonstrate for you some of the work that needs doing."

Reaper's threat was not hyped, it was cast in the same tone as every other sentance, but Starscream's associates shrank back nonetheless.

"Hmph," snorted Starscream. "And who is this then?" he gestured at Nebula, "A lackey perhaps? Or a chaperone to see that you don't steal it? What are you? An errand runner in training?"

*-------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Wheeljack was not amused, but then that was part of the plan.

"If you MUST know, I was in the process of installing the last laser cannon when you barged in here and ruined everything!" he insisted bombastically, with the self-assured lecturing style that was his trademark. "It is a VERY delicate operation and one that cannot be disturbed in mid-process by infantile pranks!!!!"

For all his bluster, Wheeljack was much too concerned with his work to be actually very angry, and when she asked about his project, he instantly calmed down.

"Well his debut is in a few hours. I was just remodifying a few things and adding the weapons systems. They're always the last things you add you know."

He walked over to the workbench and slid it around so that it was facing Snow. "Here he is." beamed Wheeljack, pleased with himself obviously. "I'm sure you already knew that this wasn't a normal transformer. To your.... combat-obsessed sensibilities, I'm certain he doesn't look like much at all, but I assure you that he is far and away the most advanced project I have ever attempted, and his value as a unique construction far outweighs anything I could have generated with more armor and larger weapons. I have absolute confidence that he will be a complete success."

Starscream, second only to Megatron, feared and revered by many Decepticons. But also hated by many others. There was bad oil between Starscream and Reaper and though Nebula didn't know anything about their shared past, she wasn't at all suprised at this. The two were as opposite as two Decepticons could be.

Though Nebula respected Starscream she also was wary of him. He was alot like Scarlet. Sooner or later they would turn on you. It was in their nature to betray others, Starscream oozed treachery. She was certain Megatron knew.

Starscream mocked Reaper repeatedly and then turned on her. He suggested she was a lackey or an erand runner in training. She did not intend to respond to his mockery so she responded only to his initial question. She stared him in the optics and tried to look unimpressed and then smiled. "My name is Nebula." Came her responce. Her tone was casual as it usually was. A soft, kind, aluring voice that was strangely out of place in this pit of vipers.

Nebula felt confident today. More so than she did usually, it was probably because of Reaper. Due to this new found courage she decided to continue her play with words. She looked shocked suddenly as though she had made an unexpected discovery. "I'm suprised to learn that you are interested in my position Lord Starscream."

While she had intended not to respond to his words she now found that she was. It was all for the better perhaps. She needed to show him that she wasn't afraid. "I do all sorts of jobs." Her words held no malice, in fact, she seemed to enjoy telling Starscream what she did. "For instance.... well, you know what?" She said. "Why tell you? I think it would be far better if I showed you some time."

"I'd love to do so now, but..." She gestured to Reaper. "We've got our orders."

---------

"Combat-obsessed mind?" She asked. "Oh come on WheelJack, gimme a break. I don't only care about fighting, in fact... I think of my self as a visionare." She held her hand out towards the sky as if to gesture to her vision.

She put one arm over WheelJack's shoulder and smiled at him. "He looks good, I got to admit you did a good job. But... you got to explain to me how this works. I mean... he is kinda small isn't he? Aren't you concerned with that? I already feel my self getting a crank in my neck when I'm with Optimus. Imagine how this little guy will feel."

With Optimus' name, came the 'bot himself.

Optimus stood in the doorway, looking on Snow and Wheeljack, his voice filled the room with the quiet strength he was known for, and a sense of calm he generated in his fellow Autobots.

He made his way towards the worktable, and looked on the little Autobot to be, the frame was small, and it didnt look quiet right. But he was sure Wheeljack had built like as such for a reason.

"Wheeljack, Magnus just told me of your encounter. How is he coming along?"

----

Decepticon HQ, Beneath the Pacific Ocean

----

Megatron paced before the destroyed monitor, his massive white and black form imposing in it's nicest moods.

Soundwave stood to the side, the Decepticon Communicator silent and impassive.

Of all the warriors at his command, Megatron trusted few, Soundwave was one of those he did. He was a loyal soldier, with Megatron since nearly the begining. He was the first to undergo Megatron's reformating process, and the first to make use of the "cassette" technology.

If Soundwave liked to blackmail and torture the other Decepticons at times, he didn't care. It helped keep them in line.

"I do not like this Soundwave....the Autobots have been quiet. To quiet."

"Buzzsaw is ready to deploy on your commands, Megatron" Soundwave's monotone voice resonated. It was a odd voice, like a hundred voices speaking in one flat near perfect tone, but the words were always clearly heard when he spoke, there was never a chance of being misunderstood.

"No, I will want him to scout for the Constructicons when we begin our Operations."

Megatron's black finger pointed to the map of the United State, more specifically, the region now marked with grey and yellow lines, what used to be Southern California, "There is a great deal of energy to be plundered from the background Radiation left by the destruction of Superion and that Nuclear Missle. You will take a team, Soundwave, and go with the Constructicons to begin harvest. Take Starscream and his Seekers with you...and a few choice others. Leave after the next recharge cycle, and do not come back without Energon. Is that clear Soundwave?"

The blue Decepticon's head bowed slightly, "As you command mighty Megatron"

"Snow, I hand-built this Autobot from scratch. For months I have supeervised and personally instituted every single aspect of his construction. Do you actually think he is any size other than the one I wanted him to be?"

He turned the table slowly around as he spoke. "My intention here is not to make another set of Dinobots. I want to expand my own constructive talents with challenges, and in this case, the challenge is software. I want to see if it is possible to build a different type of Autobot, a new type entirely. These humans that we are surrounded by. Their biological natures make them capable of astonishing growth, though at the cost of ultimate mortality. I wish to see if it is possible to combine the two."

"I am creating an Autobot here whose very nature will not be set, but who will be able to "grow" as it were as experiance and time proceed. One who will be capable of exhibitting the same levels of emotional and personal development that humans do, albeit over a much more extended time period, and with the caveat of mechanical immortality that we all share. I don't know if it is going to work. I have no way of knowing that, but I assure you that his physical attributes have been selected by me SPECIFICALLY to emulate those of a human of his approximate.... age.... as it were... in relation to the rest of us. As I am not blessed with the knowledge of what allows a human to develop in the way they do, I must settle for emulating all of the conditions they grow up in, INCLUDING spacial ones, to the best of my abilities."

He shook his head. "I realize that most of the others won't understand any of this, but this little one won't be anything like any of the others, and I would hope that people are able to get over his size and lack of armor and see what I am trying to do here."

He might have gone on, but Optimus intervened.

Wheeljack stiffened noticeably at Optimus' arrival. "Optimus," he said, "I... didn't know you would be coming here to check on him. Magnus.... well.... he and I had a disagreement, as I'm sure he told you, regarding the use of this little one. I assured him that even if I could alter my specifications at this late stage, I still would not do so for the sheer sake of combat efficiency. My job is to bring this one to life, and to see that he is working as properly as I can devise. Finding him something to shoot at is your job."

Having said his piece, Wheeljack turned back to the table and snapped the covering back onto the little Autobot's left hand. He then slid the worktable around to the point where they could all stand next to it.

"As near as I can make him, he is ready. Spark infusion was complete two hours ago and all the infuser tests came back positive." Wheeljack chuckled. "To be perfectly honest I was afraid that there would be a problem there. The Matrix doesn't seem to take too kindly to... designs that are unorthodox for their own sake. There were some issues with the Dinobots on that front. But this one had no trouble at all infusing. It must be my new algorithms...."

Wheeljack shook himself out of lecture mode and turned back to the task at hand.

"He's as ready as he's ever going to be. I can activate him at your command Optimus, and if I may say so, I can't think of anyone I'd rather he set his first buffer imprints on than yourself."

Wheeljack was refering to the fact that when a new transformer was activated, it generally calibrated all its systems based on the initial scans of the first other transformer it spotted. While the choice of who this imprinter was didn't really matter all that much, it was a task of great ceremonial importance, and one that tended to have subtle effects on the transformer's personality in the years and millenia to come. Nobody could ever put their finger on why this was, but then again sentient beings, even constructed ones, did tend to exhibit behavior that defied the cold confines of pure logic...

*----------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Starsceam stared down with unconcealed scorn at Nebula and at Reaper both, as though weighing his chances. He didn't find them good. Arrogant as he was, Starscream was not an idiot. A fight in these conditions would have been catastrophic. Reaper alone was quite capable of simply dis-assembling all five of his side, and Nebula herself could not have been better suited for a fight in a hallway. Accordingly he stepped asside, mockingly.

"Well by all means get to it then. I would hate to have to tell Megatron that you all were slacking off on the job. I shudder to think what he might do to you..."

"You are a liar and a fool Starscream, if you think your threats mean anything to me." said Reaper with a tired voice. He walked on without a second glace, shouldering asside one of Starscream's minions in the process."

Snow held her hands up defensively, as though hoping to block WheelJack's speech with them. When he stopped she lowered her hands. "Sounds to me like you've had to defend your plan one too many times WheelJack. I'm on your side here ya'know. " Snow said as Optimus entered.

She sat herself down, crossing her legs as WheelJack spoke. He explained he'd like the little one to read Optimus' buffer imprints first. Quite an honor, but nothing special for Optimus, or so she'd think. WheelJack could have asked her... I mean why not? Why did it always have to be Optimus who got all the glory, didn't seem fair.

"Yeah, well, anyways." Snow said stepping in the middle of WheelJack and Optimus. "Buffer imprints aside... I was thinking... We should make a big celebration out of this. Everyone is on edge lately a bit of relaxation would do the troops good. And what better an occation that the awakening of.... of... the little guy." She looked from Optimus to WheelJack and then back.

"We'll get a bunch of baloons and fireworks. Blaster can play some of his music.... et voila. The perfect party."

----------------

"We're all on the same side Starscream." Nebula said to Starscream in a more serious tone than she had struck before. "Reaper is a Decepticon warrior just like you and me." She knew it was probably folly to argue her point with him, but sitll she tried. That said she turned away and followed Reaper.

She looked at Reaper's back a while before making a short sprint to catch up. "You're not very good at making friends, are you?" Nebula inspected him a moment before sighing. There was no point in presuing the topic any further than that.

Besides, they had arived at their destination. The constructicons workshop. This place was a mess and Nebula opted to stay just outside the door unles it would turn out that she was really required to enter. She looked to Reaper thinking it best to let him handle this, this was his mission after all.

Optimus listened to Wheeljack, as he worked on the chassis of the soon to be new Autobot. Optimus couldn't say he was sorry he let Wheeljack build it, yet, affterall, he let Wheeljack build the Dinobots on a similar hunch.

"Let me know when your ready to activate him Wheeljack...Snow, let's leave Wheeljack to work in peace."

With that, Optimus strode out of the lab, and towards the command room.

-----
Decepticon HQ
-----

Hook opened the door, the aristocratic Constructicon looked upon the Assassin and his counterpart, and then to the object held forth.

"Is that it? Excellent, now we'll be able to finish the Extractor."

With that, the door sealed shut again, the Constructicons disappearing into thier innermost workshop.

A moment later, the comm system sounded, with Soundwave's unique voice, "Starscream, Thundercracker, Thrust, Dirge, Skywarp, Reaper, Nebula, and Stunticons, report to briefing unit three for mission."

Snow looked at Optimus leave and let out an annoyed 'hmpf'. He obviously didn't think the party was a good idea. It was as though everyone here lacked any vision what so ever. "Leave him alone he says...." She looked at WheelJack and shrugged. "Whatever, see you at the great event." The enthusiasm she had held before seemed to be gone now and she left the room.

Snow walked the hallways of the Autobot compound. 'Did Optimus think he could boss her around like the rest of the flunkies? She was a war hero, a great warrior who had proven herself time and time again. Her sugestion should be listened to. More so if she was right. All this nonsense with the Humans had everyone on edge. They needed something to remind them what they fought for. The good things in life."

-----------

Nebula listened with astonishment as the names were announced. "Me?" She asked. "ALRIGHT!" She shouted. A grin worked up on her face. Those were some big names, this mission had to be an important one. She looked to Reaper and actually gave him a hug. She released him imediatly and stepped back after realizing what she had done. "Ehm... oh sorry. I... got a little..."

Reaper's serious expresion calmed Nebula down a little. "We should get going. I'll just..." She nodded to herself and started walking. Nebula made sure she was a few steps ahead of Reaper. She slammed one hand against her face and growned to herself. Reaper had to think her a complete fool. An unexperienced complete fool at that.

She slowed her pace so that Reaper could catch up if he wanted to. This mission was going to be big. That meant she had to behave as a profesional. She could do that. She had succeeded before. In fact, she couldn't recall her last failure. This mission would be no diferent. After the others witnesed her in action they'd have to acknowledge her as a strong Decepticon. Even Starscream.

Nebula looked over her shoulder to see if Reaper was still there.

There were those who might have found Nebula's exuberance endearing.

Reaper was not one of them.

He went rigid when she decided to give him a hug, and his gaze afterwards wasn't quitehateful, but definitely dangerous. "Quite." Was all he answered to her nervous statement of intent. His scythe tapped quietly against his leg as he did so.

Saking his head to himself, he followed Nebula down the hallway. Megatron wanted them for some kind of mission it appeared... it would be best to see what it was.

*-----------------------------------------------------------*

Barely an hour passed after Optimus left before Wheeljack concluded his third and final round of diagnostics. When the last green light appeared on the console of his computer, he did a good approximation of smiling and sighing. For better or worse, his creation was ready. He had done all he knew how to do. The rest was in the hands of fate, Optimus, and Primus.

He lifted the little autobot slowly up and put him on a portable worktable, with hoversuspenders for easy movement. Then he lifted the intercom.

"This is Wheeljack. If everyone would please join me in the main hall to welcome the newest member of our organization into the world, it would be most appreciated." He was about to put the microphone down, but hesitated and added something else. "And the first person to make some kind of question about his size gets a gyrospanner up their tailpipe. I'm not explaining the theory again. You will all be POLITE to him when he wakes up or you will not like the results of your next maintenance cycles..."

With that, Wheeljack hung up the intercom and slowly pushed the worktable out of his workshop and down the corridor towards the main hall.

In the briefinf room, Soundwave stood in the fore, waiting for the other Decepticons to file in. Reaper and Nebula arrived first, followed by the Stunticons.

Starscream and the Seekers had not yet come.

This worried Soundwave not a bit, seeing as this was par for the course with the Aerial Commander.

-----
Autobot HQ
-----

The hour had passed, and when Wheeljack announced for the other Autobots to come into his workshop.

The smaller Autobots, Huffer, Bumblebee, Gears and Brawn where first, followed by the Aerialbots, then Rachet, Bluestreak, Hound, Hoist, and the others, entering last was Jetfire, Ironhide and Optimus Prime himself.

They gathered around Wheeljack and the table, Huffer and Cliffjumper both asking, "What's this all about Wheeljack?"