To all readers of this fiction, particularly the wonderful Lecidre:

Finally. At long lost. It is born. The fanfiction I've been dreaming of for about half a year now.

It is only the beginning. The genesis of a bright new star. I have helped to give it life. And while it is not the most perfect thing, nothing in this life is truly perfect.

At long last. I can breathe and sleep after countless late nights revising this thing.

I shall return with another chapter and much more coherent thoughts when my mind clears and life lifts it's hold upon me.

Until then,

with Aloha

~Zella

Space.

Dark space filled with the little sputter of light of faraway stars, and the nebulous, colorful forms of other galaxies orns away from me.

"Hello?", I call out.

Am I dreaming? Perhaps. Large cages do not simply just exist in free space. I see this large cage in the midst of this space. And only that.

There's a large…creature…trapped in the cage. For the time being, it does not seem to have a visible faceplate. Or landing pads. Or servos. Nothing to indicate its frame, or shape, or even species. Just dark brown and blue aerodynamically-shaped plates on the creature. The texture of the plates reveals small burrs, like the surface is made of thousands upon thousands of flexible wires. Almost like the hide of some organic creatures, particularly those with the ability of flight.

"Perceptor?"

Is that-could it be?

In the starry blackness, seemingly out of nowhere, a familiar Cybertronian floats towards me, ethereal and graceful, an unknown light shining off of her malachite-green plating. A moon in crescent form composes her smile, and two rigel stars glimmer in her optics. And yet, her support servos are wide open to me, an invitation to place myself close to her.

"Moonracer?...is that really you?"

She gives a quick nod. "Come and see."

One landing pad in front of the other, even though I am not walking upon a tangible surface. Closer and closer to her, all the while she waits with open support servos until I am standing at a point where our landing pads touch. She embraces me fully.

I find myself pushing her away.

"Perceptor?-"

"I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I thought you hated me. Which you did. Which you still-"

Moonracer places a digit against my vocal labi. "Shh. You and I are friends, and friends forgive one another."

"Do friends lie to one another?"

"You meant well-"

"-About other bots? About hurting other bots? About violating their freedoms?"

"You only wanted to keep me safe."

"That was not the way to do so."

Oddly, she smiles and cheekily pushes a digit against my forehead.

"You know that now. Better late than never, I say. And that applies to a lot more than you know, Scientist."

Then she takes my servo and rests it against her chassis, where her spark would be.

"If it helps any, I forgive you, Percy."

She forgives me. Moonracer, apprentice to Chromia, sharpshooter, and a scientist in her own right, forgives me. My best friend, even closer than my work, the Autobot cause, even more than Wheeljack, forgives me. Unconditionally. And still thinks fondly of me. And she finally called me Percy.

Not resorting to Scientist. Not Perceptor. Percy, as if…as if there was no Great War, no black funds, no separation, as if all was well.

Her rigel optics look up at me, and I can only think, "Hormones, chemicals, regardless of why I feel these things, she is no longer just a friend to me."

I can feel her tense, then relax, in my support servos when I hold her close.

"And if it helps any, I understand and forgive any of your transgressions against me. We are much, much more than friends."

The brightest of her moonlit smiles appears, but a loud, intrusive sound captures our attention.

The creature in the cage…is no longer in the cage. It does seem to have taken the form of various organic creatures capable of flight, with long claws on two landing pads, and wide open wings like that of a Decepticon. Dark brown and blue plates float in midair, and I faintly remember what the plates are called: feathers.

It flies up, zips through space through some untold force, and quickly flies in our direction. Moonracer, seeing that it's obviously targeting me, pushes me down, and the creature grabs her in its talons with astounding strength. In one swift motion, it flies to the suspended cage, throws her in, and closes the cage shut.

"Perceptor!"

"Moonracer!"

I run to the creature with the intent to at least get Moonracer free, but it quickly pins me to some sort of flat surface with one clawed landing pad. The other one is raised high above its head, claws pointed to me. Through the adrenalin pounding through my wiring, the feathers on the creature's head part to show me some kind of faceplate.

The faceplate-the faceplate is that of Chromia Minor, Moonracer's mentor. If Moonracer's optics glimmered, Chromia's optics blaze with fury. Chromia's vocal receptor opens, but she speaks with more than one voice. All voices say the same thing:

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER."

The claws come down in a blur, slashing open my chassis pillar, and I find my energon splattered upon its landing pad, wiring and chips and a distinct bundle of wires hanging off one claw like a swinging bulb.
The brightly-colored substance flies everywhere, but I can only feebly reach for her, who is being whisked away by an angry morphed Chromia. Away from me. Moonracer's reaching for me, but I can't get to her!

"Perceptor!"

I can only float away helplessly, slowly fading into stasis lock, but with energon clogging my vocal tubing, I cry out even if no bot can hear me, even if no bot sees my servos reaching for my Moonracer, even as I slip into my own darkness.

"MOONRACER!"

…

Initium

or

A story of love, the whisper of a secret, a concerned scientist, an explanation, and the beginning.

{Sometime after the Great War of the Factions, an orbital cycle after the departure of Chromia's ship the Quintessa}

[Perceptor's Laboratories]

"Perceptor? Dear Primus, please, recharge."

No answer from the other side of the door.

"Perce? I think I can still hear your landing pads hitting the floor. Please, recharge. Before I barge in myself and stick a tranq dart in you….or something!"

Nothing.

Frag. Even when I really am trying not to, I underestimate Percy's depression. But I won't leave my partner's side when he really needs somebot, even if he doesn't know it. I'll just-I'll just count the little shelves in the walls surrounding the door to his private room, count the dark green and pewter tiles on the floor! I will not leave until that tapping sound stops. It's probably Percy pacing in his room, moping around. Charging himself to absolute malfunction, no doubt. At least…I hope not. All that high-grade is not good for him. That's all I've seen him pick up and consume, actually. Just charge and mope. Like the last couple of solar cycles.

Poor fellow. Poor Perceptor.

I really shouldn't, though. Just sit my bulky aft here and feel all sorry for him and let my partner slowly rust into pieces because I'm too scared to break down the fragging door. I could. Just a good kick. Or use the blow torch-maybe not, considering that last incident with the liquid plutonium. I have an explosive touch-literally! All I need to do is put one servo against the door , wait a little, then BAM!, open door, and I can finally see what Perce's been up to.

Or maybe not. I don't think I'll like what I see.

Well, slag. All I can do is just sit against the closed door and wait for something to happen.

Something to happen, peh. There's a war howling outside of this protected, insulated cage, a war on the brink of ending, a war that could determine the preservation or destruction of everything good and right, everything we Autobots fight for-

-and I'm sitting here, wondering what the Pit is going on with one bot, doing nothing. Just sitting my bulky aft on my partner's door, not doing a fraggin' thing.

What happened to him? To make him act this way? At least that's what Red Alert has been asking me for the last couple of solar cycles. She really does not need to know.

Maybe that's why she joined Rodimus whats-his-faceplates. She probably got fed up with what's been happening for the last orbital cycle or so. She mentioned Percy….lashing out at her once. She did save his life; he must have said or done something pretty awful for Red to up and leave.

It's out of a broken spark, that's all. Sorry, Red.

I run a servo over my blue audio receptors.

Maybe Moonie would've known how to handle this.

Yeah, Moonracer, she knew how to handle emotional bots. Or at least Perceptor.

Ah, memories. She and Perce laughing over something as they piece me back together, after an explosion involving a shock cannon, several lasers, some high-grade, neutronic detonating putty, and a message drawn in the darkness of space:

YOU ARE AWESOME, RED! :D

To celebrate Red Alert's award for discovering a little doohickey that alleviated Gold Plastic Syndrome.

Whatever happened, whatever funds we lost-totally worth it.

A feeling of sadness settled into my wiring like cooled energon. Why were things so easy back then? A war had just broke out within Cybertroniankind. Things like bots such as Perceptor and Moonracer being friends just didn't happen. He was cold logic, she was warm spark-friendships like that didn't last under the unforgiving, foreboding servo of war.

That friendship should've crumbled, but it didn't. For the first time in a long time, Perceptor was opening up to another bot that wasn't me. And not out of the logic that he ought to know his assistant better.

Love changes everything.

So did hate.

And she learned to hate him. Or if that wasn't the case…..he hated himself.

I….I honestly don't know what happened. All I know is that it was enough for her to run away from him.

Moonracer saw Perceptor one last time.

When he was in stasis, recovering from losing his voice box.

"You're leaving? In the middle of this war? When we need all the soldiers we can?"

Tears.

"Not just me, and it's not because of Perceptor. The both of you can help whatever soldiers we have with your projects. And believe me, there's a lot of projects going into getting the Autobots the upper hand. You can ask Perceptor here when he wakes up."

"I….I don't understand."

Her support servos around his lithe, weakened frame. Embracing him, almost carving herself into his finish.

"There-there's plans that my femmes and I will carry out, to do our part in ending this war-"

"But-"

"-and we must find Elita-1, but we must do it alone."

"-you and your femmes-"

"This is all my fault, and I must leave on a good end."

"-RUNNING FROM BATTLE! That's what you'll be doing if you leave! We're so close to ending this orns-long War, and your team wants to leave to go find a bot that could be offline?"

"Yes, Wheeljack! She is an Autobot, one of us, and, like you said, we need all the soldiers we can get. Because you know what Autobots like my girls and I will be doing if we stay?"

"No….I don't."

"Deserting a future leader! An Autobot! And….a friend. My girls and I can only help win this war when fellow Autobots aren't turned against each other, busy trying to keep bots like Chromia in prison, Firestar in the sanatorium, or me in the dark. I'm truly sorry-"

An apology to me.

"-but I'm tired of being the naïve little femme that needs to be lied to because I can't handle the truth."

And to Perceptor.

With tears spilling over her cheek plates, her final words were whispered in his audio receptor. I wanted to tell her so badly, that Perceptor was unconscious and couldn't hear her, much less remember her words. I didn't have the spark to, though, just let her be.

Then, true to her name, she raced out of that recuperation ward, and it felt like a light had been snuffed out.

She was gone.

And when Perceptor recovered and he found out, at first….he worked. Finished the projects as usual. When through a regular work schedule as usual.
When he didn't work, he simply made his way through his labs. Through the Guild. Up the Trion Spire, the tallest building of the Guild, and just looked out into the inky darkness of space.

How do I know? Instead of following him up the Spire, I just went outside.

The Spire was the unofficial quiet spot for many of the scientists at the Guild. It seemed to be Percy's favorite spot to just think when the War and the projects and the rest of the Council exhaling down his chassis pillar was too much. But when I used my vision to squint and try to see him in any of the open windows, I found him and he appeared to be….screaming. But I just knew no noise was formed.

His voice box was gone. Maybe that was a good thing, that no one heard him and would think he was being nabbed by Deceptions or something.
A missing voice box is one of the hardest Cybertronian parts to replace, and it has to be exactly like the original or it's just no good.

He lost his….somehow. An explosion or something caused by that blackout an orbital cycle ago. He said that, but I don't know. All I know is even worse than the sight of his vocal receptor so wide open it resembled a black hole in his faraway faceplates, and his servos curled into the tiniest fists, and the expression of his silent screaming-was a sight of him not screaming. Just him looking into his servos.

That wouldn't have been so bad, but then I saw it up close, while in his private laboratories.

One solar cycle, just sitting in a corner and not seeing me. Staring hollowly into his servos, his digits separated and shaking. That's all he did at first; just this darkness hanging over him. Science no longer had the same satisfactory effect on him. I nearly mistook him for another bot, but that was probably because his yellow visor was gone and he no longer appeared healthy. Grayer than usual, his optics dimmed so that they were just noticeable in the shadows of his lab. Just a cube of high-grade in one servo, while he rested his support servos on his kneecaps, leaned against a wall, ran his other servo over his faceplates.

I tried to help him. But it appears…it appears half of whatever I touch blows up.

Including other bots.

We continued related work for Project Omega in our designated space, and one solar cycle Percy lost it. All I did was comfortingly pat him on the shoulderpad when, during a break, he gently touched Moonracer's old-his new-visor, and all that self-hate, all that sorrow, all that shame and guilt and agony flew out at me in a torrent. His new emotionless voice, while it made him seem more tranquil than furious, did nothing to hide the pain in every sentence.

"STOP IT, WHEELJACK! PLEASE, JUST PLEASE, PRIMUS, STOP IT! STOP LOOKING AT ME WITH SYMPATHY AND UNDERSTANDING! STOP TREATING ME WITH RESPECT AND PATTING ME ON SHOULDERPADS AND JUST TOUCHING ME! I DON'T DESERVE IT! I DON'T DESERVE A FRAGGING BIT! RED ALERT WASN'T SO KIND, AND NEITHER WOULD YOU IF YOU KNEW WHAT I HAD DONE AND JUST HOW AWFUL IT WAS SO FRAGGING AWFUL THAT WHEN MOONRACER FOUND OUT SHE DIDN'T COME TO WORK AND RAN AWAY AND I WOULDN'T BLAME HER BECAUSE IT WAS COMPLETELY MY FAULT SHE'S GONE GONE GONE FOREVER AND SHE'S NEVER COMING BACK I RUINED THE BENEVOLENT NATURE OF SCIENCE JUST TO SATISFY THE COUNCIL AND HELP WIN THIS WAR AND YOU STILL WANT TO EMBRACE ME AND BE MY PARTNER AND TELL ME EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT? I COULDN'T TELL THEM IT WAS WRONG, COULDN'T FIGHT IT, HAD TO DO IT ALL AND I'VE LOST WHAT I'VE TRIED TO HOLD ONTO ANYWAY! ALL IN THE NAME OF PEACE AND SCIENCE AND THE AUTOBOT CAUSE!"

The stunned silence that followed was only a klik, but it felt like orns, like an entire lifetime.

"…...is this….is this because of anything Red told you? Me? The Council? …..Moonracer?"

With every name, his head dipped lower and lower. But his optics painfully closed upon hearing Moonracer's name.

"What….what did she say?"

A shake of his head.

"What happened between the both of you?"

"…I'd….I'd rather not…"

It seemed all sentient life potentially followed a painful line. Negativity breeds more negativity, violence begets more violence, hatred protoforms more hatred, hurtful words spark more hurtful words; all endless cycles that do nothing but destroy.
I slowly began to understand what was happening. From the Council pushing Percy, to Percy taking it out on Red Alert, affecting Moonracer, who reprimanded him, and causing him to take it out on me.

A cycle of hurt. A self-fulfilling prophecy sometimes.

And then….what happens now. Him taking parts and plans into his private labs, locking himself up, me leaving energon at his door, and him only barely taking it.

All of that-Moonracer's tears, begging Red Alert to help Perceptor, his agony I hope to Primus no other bot saw-I remember it all too well.

I forgive you. I-I hope you know that.

Fine. I will help him just this once.

Thank you, Red. Thank you.

I am an Autobot.

Scientist.

Monster.

No, Percy. Not that. Not you.

Primus help me. The flashbacks are so bad, I'm starting to heat up.

Wait.

Heat up? Physically?

And since when had I been surrounded by smoke?

I quickly got up and looked around.

It was coming from Percy's laboratories.

By some stroke of luck, I broke in.

But when the smoke clears, I wish I didn't.

There, belted in and hooked up to a machine I had fixed up the other solar cycle, is Perceptor. There's a mask holding his head in a brace, and wires are attached here and there. His head is open, exposing his processor. He….isn't moving. And he's almost, completely, gray.

Primus, no.

He's not offline. Not gone. Not yet.

Unlatching the restraints and cuffs keeping him to the flat table surface, removing the wires hooked up to him, and gently moving his head out of the brace it was in, I check his processor for any permanent damage. Because if there is any, there's no Red Alert to help us.

What the Pit had he locked himself into? I really should've thoroughly checked this crazy bundle of wires and parts and makeshift berth before.

The frontal lobe of his processor suffered a little mutilation, not including the wire stuck into it in the first place, and thank Primus, the damage was not to anything important. As long as he is still alive.

"Percy? Percy! Cybertron to Perceptor, c'mon! Up and at it, Scientist!"

I set him down on the makeshift berth of the machine and run to get a cube of low-grade. The thoughts just rush through my processor: simple mistake self-conducted experiments go bad all the time he maybe tripped and fell into the berth and it automatically trapped him in or maybe this thingy is harmless I hope so thank Primus he's even offline he could be suicidal OH DEAR PRIMUS HE COULD BE SUICIDAL-

"Stop it, 'Jack", I whisper to myself. "Be calm, and he'll be alright."

Propping him up and putting the cube to his vocal receptor, I shake the energon a little to get it down his pipes.

Please, Primus, let him be okay.

A cycle or so later, and he comes back online with a loud groan.

"Wh—Wheeljack?"

"Percy? Thank Primus!"

"Wh—what happened?"

"Long story, but Percy, don't ever do that again. You've got to tell me if you're intending to pull a stunt like this. Look, trying to offline yourself is not exactly the best method to…well, anything….and I know things didn't go well with Moonracer, but don't worry, she'll-"

"-who is Moonracer?"

All molecular movement freezes. All atoms grind to a standstill. Even time seems to be careening to a screeching halt.

"Wh—what are you talking about? Moonracer? You know, your best friend…."

"….No. I have collegues, benefactors, and Councilbots, but best friend…..?"

"Sharpshooter. Y'know, cheery and a little timid, a yellow disk in the middle of her forehead like you?..."

"Who is Moonracer?", a now confused Perceptor questions, more firmly. Something is wrong. I question him-surely this is a joke of some sort.

"Who is Chromia and what does she look like?"

"An Autobot, right? And…..you know, I'm not too sure…."

"…um, Botanica! You've met her, right?"

"Who?"

"Eh, never mind. Oh! What did Red Alert recently discover that called for a big celebration right here in our labs?"

"Celebration? As in, a hedonistic sort, involving high-grade, colored lights, and dancing? I believe all of that is not allowed in any section of the Guild Sciencius."

"Er…Alpha Trion had us begin a project that would help end the war! Involving mostly Highbrow, Mainframe, and Ultra Magnus! What is it codenamed?"

"We started a project? Mainframe and I haven't worked on anything together yet…."

"You….honestly have no idea."

A blank stare.

"About…anything?"

"I am oddly interested in knowing what I have to do with this 'Moonracer' bot, whose name you've placed unusual emphasis upon."

Oh slag.

One landing pad in front of the other brings me to the wreckage of Percy's device. I peek inside.

Nothing. Dear Primus. This horrible tangle of parts and wires sucked up all of his memories. JaAmmit!

Then I suddenly remember something. After his outburst. The deathly quiet after a long battle.

"Wheeljack, please go away. I don't want to feel any anger, or betrayal, or any other uncalled-for reactions towards you."

"Perce, it'll be okay. Besides, you can't help it. You can't escape your emotions."

Then his answer. The phrase that haunted me for almost a megacycle now. The reason I've stayed near him for this long, the reason I can feel nothing but hurt for him, the reason I stuck myself to his door every time he would lock himself in.

"Maybe I can."

I didn't think he'd follow through with such a thought. Not to this extent. But, really, I should've known. Percy's a bit of an extremist. I should've known.

Frag me.

I look back at him over one shoulder pad. A few quick strides bring me close to him. Close enough to slap him across the head. Now, I have some heavy servos, which is why some bots don't enjoy getting a back pat from me, much less a forceful slap. Percy is no exception.

"What was THAT?"

Even with that monotone voice, it only makes him seem more agitated.

"That, young Perceptor, is a slap to the head. This slap was meant to elicit emotion from you."

"Well, what was the reason for it, then? I still retain emotions, unless that is slowly being made unobvious to you, Inventor."

"Do you? Really?"

"I'm angry at you. I believe that is emotion."

"So….you can feel? Happy, sad, angry, surprise, fear, disgust, all six?"

"I am emotions number three and four right now, if that wasn't already made clear to you."

So he still has them. Good. But no memories. Not good.

I rush back to the machine, shining a large light upon its interior. Still the same broken parts and splintered, sparking wires.

Then I see something glint in the bright light. Something blue and flat and with five sides. It rests in a port of some kind, plugged in and blinking with a tiny green light. I pluck it out.

"Perce, can you still transform into a microscope?"

"Of course."

He folds down and over the periscope upon his left shoulderpad until he forms a microscope. Good, he hasn't forgotten that.

"Thank you for transforming so I wouldn't have to dig around for one, even though I slapped you."

I place the little blue thing underneath the lens and look in.

"What exactly are we looking at?"

"Not sure. Need to see up close."

Cyber-wiring in this little blue thing, with a storage chip in the far right-servo corner.

"What, exactly, would be in it should it be proven to be a storage disk?"

"No idea. Probably unimportant."

That is a slagging lie. I slip it into the little holder found in the back of my Autobot insignia and face him.

"I'll check it out later. How are you feeling?"

He transforms back into bot mode with ease.

"I feel...different. Not fearful, or surprised, or disgusted, or angry, and not really happy. Or sad."

That's…..that's good. That's really good. Hold on to that, Perceptor.

You haven't felt not sad for a while.

Terminology:

Servo(s) = hand(s)
Digit(s) (when referring to anatomy) = finger(s)
Voice Box = larynx, so called because it actually forms a cube shape
Chassis Pillar = neck
Support Servo(s) = arm(s)
Landing pad = foot
Optics = eyes, faceplates = faces, ya ya yahhhh.

Guild Sciencius = my name for the scientific HQ of Cybertron. Must revise that.

Will have next chapter after long nap, when I have a lot more time on my hands. Please ask questions if you have any.

Peace and Aloha,

~Zella