Greetings everyone! Welcome back (and welcome fresh readers)! I'm very excited to bring to you the new and improved version of Order Vynyan. I've worked very hard to make this a better story and I'm incredibly pleased with the results! That said, I have made many changes and recommend you do read through from the beginning if you are returning from the old version. If you haven't read this story before, have no worry. I will post at the end of the most recent update so you don't jump into the old version-because I'll be updating as I have my rewrites edited.

Notes: I will do one-shots, but not every one that is requested. I will not respond to reviews in a chapter anymore-I may make notes about relevant questions, but if you do not have an account and you have a question please PM me for a relevant email.

Warning: this version has more gore/abuse/mental instabilities and other topics/genres that are geared for a more mature audience. Read at your own risk.

Order Vynyan was once only a contingency plan, created by Cybertronian warriors of old. To the future generations it became only speculation and myth, but one warrior chose to bring it to life. Even after a score of Autobot cadets went missing, still no one was any wiser to his ploy. Eons later, in the 21st century, the aftermath of his choices remain.

Despite all her scars, both new and old, Splitwing has survived. She has found her way to earth and finds herself facing new trials and old foes. Her new mission? Not just to survive; to thrive.

PROLOGUE

She was hurting. Her vocalizer processor was heavily damaged, ruined to the point of silence. Her chassis had been savagely ripped apart, leaving deep gouges to mar her smooth, dark grey chest plates. Certain circuitry in her right leg was beginning to short out—which was quite painful in and of itself—but in addition to that, each time the wires crossed or touched, sparks would fly and her leg would jerk violently in a range of motion it shouldn't have.

It was causing severe strain to her joints and tensor cables. All of her injuries included the compromising of corresponding energon lines, which while painful, were quite negligible to the searing throb in her chest. She was bleeding heavily from that wound.

To add to the score, her communications antennae had been nearly torn from her head, which had severed the necessary components to send radio transmissions and an Autobot distress signal, resulting in her complete and total isolation in the middle of space.

Just days beforehand, she had been in-mostly-fine shape when she'd intercepted the transmission signal from the planet Earth, from Optimus Prime. It had taken her a few moments of reprieve—to gather her wits and stop the giddiness flowing through her veins—before she had been able to respond to the call.

Shortly after she spoke with Prime, her day took a turn for the worst.

She was intercepted by Breakdown—a complete blockhead; all brawn, no brain—just passed the planet/not planet known as 'Pluto'. Being that she was much smaller, lighter, and not built to take such heavy hits, he easily had the advantage over her. However, since Splitwing had been sparked on the eve of war—barely half a century into her life the Decepticons destroyed Tyger Pax—she was quite skilled in the art of dodging. The action was pretty well all she had ever known, so meeting Breakdown was hardly any different, except she had no team for backup and no medic for repairs.

After out-maneuvering the Decepticon, Splitwing made a mad dash to Earth, but she was not unscathed. She was leaking energon like an open tap and with her communications off-line, she would have to physically find the Autobots.

If, of course, she didn't die from her wounds first.

[Edited version: 2017]