Summary : The first few seconds after Vector Sigma programs the Stunticons, from their point of view.

Light blazed through the darkness.

A surge of electricity and something else – something far more powerful – crackled through circuits. Processors accepted it, organized it into programs and laid it down as the permanent framework in which they would operate from that moment on.

A personality, created in nanoseconds. A conscious mind, made up of circuits and receptors and data banks and yet greater than the sum of those parts, unawakened until that moment. Awareness and sentience.

"Personality programming completed," were the first words he heard.

All systems were online and the newborn intelligence registered the bulk of the form it controlled, automatically gauging the amount of energy needed to move its limbs, the quantity of light allowed into the optical system. On a more conscious level, it evaluated the environment for any enemies, but none seemed present. The other four beings – mechs, vocabulary stores supplied the word and his mind would use it from then on – which stood close by were smaller, no real threat.

And recognition of them stirred far deeper than conscious thought, but before he could access that, audial sensors picked up the sound of heavy steps behind him. He turned.

Now that could be a threat. The mech he now faced was not only taller but carried a weapon on his right arm, displayed as an open sign of aggression. He was not unarmed – there was an energy-sword in his right hand that he couldn't remember drawing – but it would not do against a gun. His databanks scrolled through hundreds of weapon designs, pulling up the correct one almost immediately so he would know exactly what he confronted--

"I am Megatron, your leader."

Megatron.

This time, the information retrieval was even faster. Megatron, the leader of all Decepticons, was his leader. So he was a Decepticon.

Until then the conscious mind had had knowledge, but now it began to have understanding. It integrated what it was told with what it knew, and the nascent mental framework strengthened. From then on, Megatron would be foremost in the new creation's will. Megatron was the first mech whose name he had known, the one who had given him purpose when he might have become confused at the sudden onrush of data and consciousness.

Light still streamed from the glowing sphere, but the burning heat in the red optics was stronger.

"Declare yourselves to me!" Megatron ordered.

Declare yourselves. State your designation. Show that the programming has succeeded.

A deep sure knowledge came from a source that was neither Megatron nor even the intricate networks that made up his own programming. You are the leader. You speak first.

He accepted the information with no surprise. It was natural to be the leader – he was the largest and strongest of the small group of mechs who stood before Megatron, so he was their superior. Just as Megatron was taller and more powerful than he was, so Megatron was the supreme commander. The chain of command locked into place, never to be broken.

I am the leader, so I speak first.

He had not been built with a name, but it came from the awareness now embedded within him, reaching his processors instantly. The conscious mind evaluated it – and approved.

The motor gives energy to the whole and is the living force of the vehicle. It is the leashed fire beneath the steel, the source of the speed and the beating core of all that lives. And I control that power, it bends to my will and obeys me, and through me my leader. Because even the strongest such device stills at Megatron's touch.

He raised his sword. One of the other mechs flinched, but Megatron did not – perhaps he recognized a salute when he saw one, or perhaps he was fearless. Either way, that set the seal on the new mind's allegiance. Not that it needed one.

"I am Motormaster," he said. "I swear loyalty to you!"

Author's note : This story was actually inspired by Atlas Shrugged. I was re-reading the part where they found the motor, and it made me think of the significance of Motormaster's name. And the time of year influenced the idea of awakening.

The Stunticons also have something to say regarding the New Year…

Motormaster : Enjoy it while you can, organic vermin. It's going to be your last.

Drag Strip : Yeah, Megatron's got a new weap--ow! Um, anyway, you're all dead. {sotto voce} I shall show mercy to anyone who writes good stories about me.

Dead End : We're all dead, sooner or later. I can't see why anyone bothers celebrating – one year is very much like another.

Wildrider : But this time I'm going to hit the human version of Vector Sigma.

Breakdown : Have you lost it completely? Humans don't have a--

Wildrider : Yes, they do! Big shiny ball in Times Square. Happy New Year, slaggers!