#what cybertronians call a spark quintessons would call it a glitch

[deargodwtf]

I remember now! Ok, so a thing I wanted to explore in my fan continuity is the quintessons backstory from g1. With the thirteen primes background as what cybertron believes to be their origin.

I wanna see the characters grapple with their origins. How do they cope after learning god is just a computer made for profit.Is life meaningless just because you weren't made for a higher purpose.

[officerofcybertron]

Demolition Part 1

Iacon was not quite the crumbling ruin anymore. There was still debris in plenty and many of the buildings were still merely skeletal remains of what once was, but there were a few smaller buildings that were starting to look as though they could be the beginnings of a new city.

Nothing too tall, or fancy, but they provided what was needed. Shelter, a place to gather, and to rest. The only building that looked more important than the others was the Hall of Iacon itself, but even it was not finished yet.

There were days where the sense that rebuilding would never be completed lay heavy on the air. Autobots, Vehicon, and Eradicon alike, toiled on day after day. There wasn’t a single member of Iacon who was not required to join in the rebuilding efforts. Not even Ultra Magnus himself. Especially as they had few mechs of his height and strength. Bulkhead was certainly strong, but Ultra Magnus was taller. Many days passed with Ultra Magnus moving beams in position, arms extended above his head, while bolts were fastened into place to prepare the beam for welding.

Solarrail, the shuttleformer, was another such mech. Taller, and broader than even Ultra Magnus, he could often be seen carrying massive loads and standing, as a pillar, while others worked about and around him. It was quite often that Ultra Magnus found himself working with the new spark. They worked well together; both of them quiet, unlikely to spend too much time talking beyond what was necessary to the job. It was not an uncomfortable quiet, either, and while Ultra Magnus was always curious as to how the younger members of Iacon were doing, he trusted they would come to him if they needed something.

Today, however, Solarrail was not present at the construction site when Ultra Magnus was, and he instead would be working with a trio of Vehicons and another, younger, mech named Downshift on a demolitions project. ‘Downdrift’ was a name that had once been quite popular. It hadn’t been all that strange to know more than one Downshift before the war.

Ultra Magnus’ steps were heavy enough that the four, who’d been chatting away happily prior to his arrival, turned nearly at the same time as one another. He was happy to see that Downshift and the vehicon had been talking so animatedly, but the moment he got close the laughter and words died down. The vehicon did not look directly at him, while Downshift stared up at him in a manner that made Ultra Magnus uncomfortable. He did not care for being idolized, but in some ways, it was a consequence of the position he held now. He was the leader of the Autobots, and City Leader of Iacon. It was a reaction he’d come to expect.

Still; Ultra Magnus would have preferred that they had continued talking amongst themselves. He felt no need to butt into other’s conversations as he worked.

“Ultra Magnus,” Downshift started to say, and then as though someone had coached him, he immediately snapped off a crisp salute. “Sir, it’s a privilege to be working alongside you today.”

“At ease,” Ultra Magnus replied immediately. “Today I’m just another member of the crew,” though he never really was. There would be times he’d be pulled away for something else. Sometimes it related to the rebuilding efforts, but more times it involved something that required his attention as Commander, or City Leader.

Downshift seemed to beam, but comparatively the vehicons, he thought, looked miserable. Ultra Magnus was still doing his best to learn how to read their body language. He was unused to working with individuals who wore masks at all times, but right then he suspected they would have preferred to only work with Downshift who – New Spark that he was – carried no memories of the war and seemed at ease talking with a trio of individuals who were seemingly indistinguishable from their fellows.

It was ironic, Ultra Magnus thought has he followed after the two vehicons with Downshift walking along side him, that the Decepticons who’d started the war due to the oppression they were forced to suffer, would create identical clone-like soldiers. Soldiers who were so much canon fodder, and yet among them Ultra Magnus could see distinct and varied personalities.

That was, until he walked among them. He did not know if it was only himself that saw this sudden snap and change in attitude, or if other members of Team Prime did as well. The moment he started to work with the vehicon and eradicon, it was as though they dropped their personalities into their tool chests and returned to being nameless numbers in a horde of clones.

There were a few individuals who often worked directly with Team Prime who did not make this sudden switch when speaking with Ultra Magnus, but they were vastly in the minority.

A trailer, currently empty, lay sitting in wait for them at the edge of the current construction site. The job detail today was to go and collect materials from one of the more devastated buildings and assist in the demolition of another. Ultra Magnus immediately set the tools he’d been carried onto the trailer and transformed. It took only a matter of seconds to back into place and wait for the others to hitch the trailer to his alternate form.

Once all the tools were secured into place on his trailer, and the others had transformed into their vehicular forms, Ultra Magnus pulled forward. The rumbling hum of his systems perfectly mimicking the engine of his Earth-guise.

Side-view mirrors adjusted and he watched as Downshift moved into position behind him. His alternate mode, interestingly enough, was almost a combination of a more typical Cybertronian alt mode, and the guises the Autobots had used on Earth. It was still obviously Cybertronian, but the lines looked very similar to Smokescreen’s. What had caused this mutation in alt mode? Perhaps it was that Optimus was now one with the All Spark and his memories and experiences, as a Prime, were bleeding out into these new sparks.

Comparatively to the vehicons, Downshift was slightly smaller, his cab not quite as large. Perhaps, one day, he would need to see to repairing the damage the Quintessons had done so long ago and return the Cybertronians back to a time when they had no compartments for alien life to sit in.

Or maybe not. The cabs came in handy more often than they didn’t. Furthermore, if they continued to spend time on Earth it would make assisting the humans in different matters easier. Instead of bringing an extra vehicle, the Autobot working with them could transport them.

An Autobot’s frame is also far stronger than the metals making up a human vehicle, Ultra Magnus thought. Turning and moving out into a clear lane that would lead them to the site. Had Rafael been in a regular vehicle, and not within Bumblebee’s cab, it’s highly likely he would have died at the moment of impact when Megatron fired on the pair. With the Decepticons still in space, and the resources available on Earth, there is still a chance that we may need to return to Earth in order to protect it from any rogue Cybertronian force.

For the period of time it took to drive to their assigned location for the day Ultra Magnus was left alone to contemplate his thoughts. The longer the silence lasted, the more aware of it he became. Downshift did not strike him as a quiet mech. He had thought to be pestered by pleas for an accounting of his time during the war. It had happened with a few individuals, fresh from the Well. Though he always managed to find a way to dissuade them from continuing their queries, it was enough that he found it interesting that Downshift was not questioning him.

 The building was surprisingly tall, a large portion of it’s western wall jutted up into the sky like a dulled blade. Sunshine added to the effect, bringing out the harsh metallic edge where the metal had shorn away and left an area of exposed metal free of rust. It was not the tallest building, however, so perhaps what made it so surprising was the simply the long ‘blade’ that jutted up out of the foundation. There was another building close to it that had faired better, and was taller by a couple stories, but this one stood out in contrast.

Like a bizarre handle, scaffolding circled the ‘knife’ and on it climbed twenty vehicon and eradicon workers that had arrived shortly before them. Each team was made up of five crew members who worked a section together. The crews were made up of five members and at least one consisted entirely of eradicon, particularly on demolitions jobs such as this as they would be capable of transforming into their jet forms if they were to fall. Each had a crew ‘lead’ who organized and communicated with the other crew leads.

Ultra Magnus, ultimately, was the overseer of all the crews when he was on site, but if he could he would cede that position to the eradicon, or vehicon, who was senior among the crews. When it came to construction, and demolition, Ultra Magnus had little useable knowledge. Thankfully the eradicon on this site, who had decided to call himself Sixten, was quite affable. Ultra Magnus had worked with him several times and, he was beginning to suspect, Sixten was rotating his own schedules so that he could join the crews which Ultra Magnus was assigning himself to. For which the Autobot Commander was grateful.

“Sixten,” Ultra Magnus greeted as he pulled up, remaining in vehicular form until the trailer could be unloaded and unhitched. “How are things proceeding in this quadrant? Has there been any trouble?”

“Nothing to report, Sir,” Sixten replied. Though he was relaxed enough with Ultra Magnus to speak directly with him, in front of the others Sixten remained formal. “When we first arrived, there were signs of something small having been in the area, but no indications of sapient life.”

It was not just Cybertronians that the Well seemed to be producing, but other Cybertronian fauna too. Aside from the Frizz-rats, glitch-mice, and scraplets that had continued to survive on Cybertron even after it had turned dark, Ultra Magnus had seen a Turbofox skulking about the ruins near Tyger Pax on one of his patrols.

Where there were small predators it was possible there were larger ones, but there was always the possibility that a group of Decepticons, or Autobots, could return and attack the work sites. Which was why Ultra Magnus insisted on groups of twenty-five split into fives. Two groups would stand as look-out while the other three worked. Every four, to four and a half hours, the entire group would take a break. After which those who had been on watch would help with the construction or demolition, and another two groups would take up the watch position.

Because of the odd number, though, at least one group would work through the whole day, but even that was rotated on a daily basis. Ultra Magnus wanted the process to be as fair as possible and thankfully these precautions were only needed on outlying demolitions projects.

“Good,” Ultra Magnus commented and as the trailer was unhitched, he pulled forward slightly and transformed. He offered a nod to Sixten before turning to pick up the equipment he had brought. Cutters and clamps, along with lengths of cabling they could use to haul chunks of the building down with.

Walking up to the site Ultra Magnus reflected that, realistically, it would be easiest to simply use explosives to bring these buildings down, pile the resulting debris into a trailer, and haul it off to be smelted down and refined for new building materials.

There was one main problem; many of the major energon lines had moved since Cybertron’s revitalization. Some were closer to the surface now than they’d originally been, but others had completely dried up and new ones had been forming over the last few years. So far, the Autobots had not managed to map them, and as such explosions of any sort were a risky business.

So, they did things the long way. Cutting away portions and hauling those portions off to Iacon central. The Autobots had spent months working to map any energon deposits around Iacon. To both their relief and chagrin Iacon was clean of deposits. It would have made things easier when they first started if they could have mined localized energon, but as it was it allowed them to put more focus into excavation and initial demolition.

“If you would, Ultra Magnus,” Sixten was saying to him. Ultra Magnus turned and looked down at the mech, waiting quietly for him to continue. “We need another team working the base of the building…” It was a request, but also a hint to where Ultra Magnus would help the most. Ultra Magnus was capable of lifting far heavier sections, which meant the job could actually increase in speed with the cutters at the top being able to dissect larger sections. Ultra Magnus nodded his assent. It was a good idea, and he appreciated that Sixten had offered it to him.

Not a word came from the vehicon who were with him, or from Downshift. He knew that they were all tired. This was their last rotation before they received time off. Even Downshift, younger mech that he was, seemed to have less energy now looking at the task ahead of them than he’d had when Ultra Magnus had first joined up with the team.

Granted Ultra Magnus never took time off. The days he was relieved of his duty from the construction and demolition projects he instead used to focus his attentions as Commander. Going over the next rotation’s schedules, energon reserves, and equipment in need of repair or requests for equipment at different sites. It was probably menial work that he could have handed to someone else, but the honest truth of the matter was Ultra Magnus liked to keep busy. The classic workaholic.

 The slab that fell to the ground, hours later, was far too large for even a team of Vehicon to lift by themselves, but with Ultra Magnus’ assistance his team, and half of the other that was working the base of the building, were able to lift it and place it on the trailer. They were making excellent progress. Ultra Magnus had already returned to the smelting site once, and he would need to do so again shortly. The Eradicon working the top of the building were making exceptional progress today. Ultra Magnus had wanted to commend them on it, but they continued to keep their backs to those stationed on the ground, with the exception of Sixten. He was always on watch, ensuring that no one on the ground was about to be crushed by a falling piece of the building.

Ultra Magnus adjusted his grip. His clawed-hand was not well suited to the task of holding onto things. It worked for basic functions, but his grip was unsure. With the help of the others he was able to mostly balance that portion of weight on the claws, instead of gripping it, and he always used his left hand to shove the slab of metal onto the trailer as he was better able to apply the necessary force with his remaining hand.

“Ultra Magnus,” the question came from his right, he turned and found Downshift standing there, looking almost sheepish.

“Is there something you need, Downshift?” he asked, and was rewarded with a moment of surprise in Downshift’s optics. So often Ultra Magnus found that most of the younger, or newer, members of Iacon did not think Ultra Magnus would remember their designation. Most seemed to believe that he was too busy, which they understood, while others believed he would think himself too important.

He was busy, but Ultra Magnus still insisted that no one was ever so important that they should not know the designations of the people they worked with. Even when he was about to meet with total strangers Databank would get him the necessary information on them so he could properly remember their names once they’d introduced themselves.

“I’m a little confused,” Downshift admitted after a moment. The vehicon had already walked away, immediately returning for another portion of the building which was smaller as the eradicon working top side had reached the last section. They would need to lower the scaffolding again.

“Confused?” Ultra Magnus prompted after a moment when it seemed like Downshift was having trouble speaking. He only wished he could sound more like Bumblebee, or Bulkhead when he did so. The pair were very much like Optimus. They cared, and you could hear it in their voices. Ultra Magnus cared, of course, but despite his best attempts he had difficulty softening his voice. Downshift must have heard something encouraging though, or maybe it was the way Ultra Magnus remained relaxed, almost casual, in his stance.

“Yes, sir,” the formality came out almost as a fall-back, “I’ve worked with the crews quite a bit, and I really enjoy my time with them. I know there’re some Autobots who don’t think they’re all that smart, but you don’t seem to be one of them… and, I was trying to figure out why everyone is so quiet.”

Ultra Magnus vented softly and let his optics focus elsewhere for a moment. It was the same question he’d been asking himself that morning. Why was it the vehicon and eradicon seemed to become quiet in his presence, saving a select few?

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to your question,” Ultra Magnus admitted, and gestured that they should rejoin the others. “There are many reasons why they may feel uncomfortable speaking in my presence.” And all of it was due to the war, that much he was certain. How many of their people had Ultra Magnus slain? Beyond counting. The blood-energon on his hands, and frame, was thick. Likely there was no other Autobot still alive that was as stained as Ultra Magnus.

Perhaps it would have been better if he did not force his presence on them, but Ultra Magnus did not want to be a leader who lorded above the others. The only time he had done so was as his time guarding Sentinel Prime. Even then he would do what he could to engage in some of the more miniscule tasks of his job, so that he might be visible to those who were required to follow his orders. Sentinel Prime had not approved of such things, but it was the one way in which Ultra Magnus defied him. They were his crew, he’d claimed, he would work with them so that they might be more efficient as a cohesive whole.

That logic, at least, Sentinel Prime had agreed with, though it was not Ultra Magnus’ real intent. Just something he offered as a means to continue as he had been.

Downshift said nothing more. He looked thoughtful as they returned to work along side their crew. After this section was finished, and before they moved the scaffolding, Ultra Magnus would have them take their mid-day break once they’d finish loading the trailer. He’d take the trailer back while the others took their break so they could have time to relax and talk without him there to distract them.

“Ultra Magnus!” Sixten called out to him, just as he was considering whether he should ask Downshift to join him in the trip back, or if it would be safe enough to leave the young mech under Sixten’s care. The eradicon stood next to another building, crouched down and brushing his hand over something. The three vehicons who were part of Magnus’ crew stood next to him, looking over the side of the building. Concerned, Ultra Magnus adjusted his course.

“What is it, Sixten?”

“I’m not sure,” Sixten admitted, “I’ve never seen markings like this.”

Kneeling down to be closer to what Sixten was looking at, Ultra Magnus scanned over the side of the building. It was pocked, the marks so tiny that it would have been impossible to see unless one stood right next to the building. Frowning, Ultra Magnus slid his good hand over the surface, letting his finger tips trail slowly over the markings.

“Does it continue around to the front of the building?” Ultra Magnus asked, standing up and moving along the side, sliding his hand against the surface until he found where a gaping hole served as an entrance.

Pulling his fingers away he rubbed his thumb against them. There was a fine powder on the tips. He would have thought it similar to the metal dust that resulted from grinding sharp metal edges down into a smooth surface, but the particles were even smaller.

“Auger mites,” Ultra Magnus said at last, dusting his hand off, “like Scraplets, but a great deal smaller. Harmless.” His optics narrowed again and Ultra Magnus leaned closer to the wall. “There may have been a colony here at one point, but I detect no movement.” Turning to look at the others, he found them watching him. He had to stop for a moment and remember it wasn’t particularly likely that any of them would have ever heard of Auger Mites.

“They’re actually quite beneficial to the planet,” he explained, “and harmless. To living metal, that is,” Ultra Magnus put his hand against the wall again and pushed, just lightly. It wasn’t enough to put them at risk. The area where his finger tips pressed began to dent inwards, flaking away from the tunnels underneath the surface.

“Though as you can imagine, they can also be a pest. Buildings that become infested with auger mites need to be treated, or they’ll quickly—”

Ultra Magnus’ helm shot up at an oncoming sound. The air began to vibrate, and the smaller pieces of metal rattled on the ground. Too quickly the vibration became a roar; a roar that tripled. Three Seekers came into visual range; flying far too close to the ground. Despite the distance, Ultra Magnus recognized the leader of the group; a young mech he was growing far too familiar with.

“What are they doing, flying over a demolition site?” Ultra Magnus asked and raised his hand to his audio receptor to comm. the trio of fliers, but the roar grew to unprecedented levels, building to a shriek.

In quick succession all three Seekers broke the sound barrier directly overhead. The very ground and the surrounding buildings, shook from the force. Soft pings sounded up from Ultra Magnus’, Sixten’s, and the other’s armor as dust and chunks of the building next to them rained down on top of them.

“Ultra Magnus to Tailwind,” he called into his comm. unit, but received only static in return. The trio had already gone out of range of his short-range communicator. A large ex-vent rushed out of his systems as the static continued, but it was the odd growl from Sixten that caught his attention.

“Do you want me to go after them, sir?” His voice sounded more aggravated than Ultra Magnus had heard before.

“No,” Ultra Magnus sighed, “I will have a word with Tailwind.” Again. Tailwind wasn’t a bad sort, but he was prone to showing off. Particularly if he knew where Ultra Magnus was working for the day. It was an almost bi-weekly ritual with Tailwind. He’d ply Magnus for permission to fly out further from Iacon’s city limits and Ultra Magnus would deny his appeal.

The trouble, this time, was that he had roped two other Seekers into his performance. Ultra Magnus would need to learn who it was that had joined Tailwind today.

“We’ll see how cocky he is during our next lesson,” Sixten said, surprising Ultra Magnus.

“I had forgotten,” Ultra Magnus admitted, “you are one of the flight instructors for the new Seekers?” There was a little pause, as though Sixten had not meant to bring up the subject, but he nodded a moment later. Magnus gestured for them to head back to the site where the other crews were waiting for them.

“I am, but only on my off periods,” Sixten admitted in an almost sheepish tone. Ultra Magnus watched him for a moment with a questioning gaze. “Obviously,” Sixten continued, “I’m not the instructor a proper Seeker would be, but it’s better than nothing and it would be dangerous for them to learn on their own.”

“If you wished, I could assign you as an instructor on a more permanent basis,” Ultra Magnus offered. “That way you could provide them with the education they needed, and still have a rest period.”

“No,” Sixten said immediately, holding his hands up as though to ward off a blow, but Ultra Magnus suspected it was an entreaty to allow Sixten to continue speaking. “… apologies, Ultra Magnus, Sir. I appreciate your offer, but I’m content as I am.”

Ultra Magnus nodded his helm, respecting Sixten’s wish, but it also brought forth his normally quieter curiosity about the vehicon and eradicon. From what he’d seen there were very specific individuals among them who seemed to have a more forward personality type. There was a whisper of a rumor that Shockwave had created the clone-like soldiers, but from where did he collect the sparks necessary?

It was possible that Shockwave had collected the sparks he needed from the Well, but early on in the war the Well began to produce less and less life until individuals came out only in two’s and three’s over an extended period of time. It was not feasible that Shockwave could devise an army from such a small supply.

But there was another source. A chilling rumor whispered among the Wreckers as they battled endlessly against Shockwave later on in the war when the majority of the Autobot and Decepticon forces had left the planet. It was not widely spread, to do so would hempen the war efforts, but the Decepticons were known to take prisoners.

For a brief, cold, moment Ultra Magnus could only look at the lines of Sixten’s frame. Questioning. How many soldiers had he seen dragged off in the midst of battle? Some still fighting, others yelling for help that could not reach them in time. How many had he been unable to save?

Could Sixten have once been someone Ultra Magnus knew? Or had Shockwave devised some means by which to create sparks without the All Spark? It was a truth that Ultra Magnus had no desire to discover. If it were true, if Shockwave had used Autobot sparks to help create this army of drones, then the Autobots had been fighting prisoners of their own faction.

“Look out!” Deep in his thoughts, Ultra Magnus did not immediately parse the warning shout, but his optics quickly snapped up to the look-out on duty, and turned when he noticed the mech pointing. So, lost in his thoughts about the war, Ultra Magnus thought to see a line of Seekers approaching their position.

Instead he saw a slab of metal plummeting down towards the group who walked a little way behind him and Sixten, broken away from the decrepit building.

Ultra Magnus twisted mid-step and lunged towards the group. The vehicons flinched and within a split second their arms transformed into their blasters and leveled them at Ultra Magnus’ chest plating. An Autobot had just turned and rushed towards them, they felt they needed to defend themselves. Ultra Magnus understood, but he still pushed his way past them.

The slab, which would have likely crushed the four beneath it, landed squarely on Ultra Magnus’ upraised hands and shoulders. Chunks of building quickly followed it, pelting the slab with enough force to make Ultra Magnus’ frame shudder. The noise grew to a crescendo and the air filled with dust, nearly blinding those in the vicinity.

“Go!” Ultra Magnus shouted, twisting to better support the slab. When they hesitated, his voice gained a snap of command he’d not used since the war had ended. “Go! That’s an order, get out of here!”

The vehicon were the first to react, with one of them grabbing Downshift by the arm and hauling him away from the Commander. Ultra Magnus grit his teeth against the fierce pain in his right hand, in the claw-like device Ratchet had devised for him. It was not made to bare the brunt of so much weight.

Shifting his grip, intending to throw the slab free and run, Ultra Magnus was forced down to his knees with a new collision. He struggled to get back up, yelling from the strain. He pushed himself up, got one of his feet underneath him. On one knee he began to lift the slab again…

But with a great shriek of metal a chunk of the slab broke away. Pain, hot and searing, ate it’s way up his right arm through already sensitive circuitry. Energon streamed from the wound left behind when one of the prongs of his claw sheared away with the force of the impact.

A large chunk of metal crashed down before him, tilting and leaning against the slab he already held. Ultra Magnus growled and heaved with all his might to push up from under the slab across his back, only to be driven back into the ground as the building continued to fall.

Pain was his only companion. The drip of energon sliding down his arm and across his frame. His legs were an agony, pistons and gears grating against the strain.

With a resounding crash the slab fell forwards, and the remains of the building toppled down.