Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Time units:
Astrosecond: 1 Second
Breem: 1 Minute
Joor: 1 Hour
Orn: 1 Day
Deca-Cycle: 1 Week
Orbital Cycle: 1 Month
Vorn: 1 Year
Chapter 2
Softvoices filtered into my audio receptors as I slowly came back online, my optics following closely behind. My finger twitched and the mechs that were talking in hushed voices stopped and the red and white medic, known as Ratchet, came into my line of site.
"Hey there little femme, how you doing?" he asked in a gentle voice that everyone new around me liked to use.
I looked away and turned my attention away from him and to the ceiling instead, hoping that if I ignored him, then he might go away. But there was one thing that I couldn't keep my attention away for very long and that was the gnawing of emptiness growing in my spark were my creators bond had been.
The mech sighed. "Well can you at least tell me your designation?"
"Starlight," I replied quitly.
He nodded. "And is there any pain?"
"No." That was the truth. I wasn't in pain, I was just empty.
He nodded again and the mech's eyes dimmed before quickly flickering back to their usual bright blue before speaking again. "Is there anything that I can do to help?"
I ignored this question and continued to stare at the ceiling blankly. No, no one could help me. I was only three vorns old but I talked and acted like I was thirteen vorns. But of course, no matter how hard I try, the true sparkling in me comes out sometimes.
"My name is Ratchet, ask if you need anything, and don't be afraid to ask. We're going to be keeping you here for a few orns so why don't you get comfortable?" The mech told me. I just stared blankly ahead and he vented softly before turning to leave.
The rest of the orn was uneventful. Doctors came and went, stopping at my berth to check a few things or to try and ask me questions.
But I was oblivious to them all.
I never heard.
I only felt.
I only felt the soft hands checking my repairs to make sure I was healing every now and then.
Most importantly, I felt the emptiness inside me. An emptiness that can never be filled.
An emptiness that will forever haunt me…
I sighed loudly causing one of the nurses to come over and check on me.
Since I would be here for a while by the looks of things, I might as well tell you my back-story. I'm not going to try and explain how sparkling are created only because I don't want to, so deal with.
So as I already told you, I'm three vorns old but both talk and act like I'm thirteen.
How? You might ask. Well simple, my creators told me that I was special compared to other sparklings. I could do things that even grown mechs wished they could do. One of those things is how fast I can take in information and process it. Hence why I act older than I really am.
I was also told that my transformation would be unique as well, but I had to wait till my transformation cog was fully developed to find out what my creators had meant. I can also read other bots CPU's, but I refrain from using it 'cause I don't like prying into others personal data. Along with the whole CPU reading thing, I can also communicate with my mind to any mech whenever I want so long as I can sense them.
The last thing that I'm able to do is move incredibly fast. With both the combination of how fast I can move and how fast I can process things, I was always a nuisance in the labs. I was always getting in trouble, but I didn't care. I just wanted to stretch my legs and move.
Alright, so those are the things I can do. But there's one thing I didn't mention and that's that I'm both great and love to fight.
I know, I know. A three vorn old knows how to fight? Supposed to and a war, remember? Let me explain how I came to enjoy fighting.
My processing capabilities were finishing… uh… maturing? I don't know, I don't really want to know either. But anyways, it wasn't long after I could process things at full speed that the scientists put a new - … um.. power?... no program - in me.
Speed.
And oh how loved it. No one could catch me when a prank went wrong or when I got into mischief. Finally though, my creators decided to put my speed and processing to a task that would help me in the future.
Fighting.
My creators put a battle programming in me. They gave me a knife, but on my small frame, it was more like a sword. I was strange though. As soon as I looked at it, I knew immediately knew how to use it.
Next thing I knew, I was holding the knife in front of me as a practice robot slowly came at me. Then one astrosecond its standing and the next, it's in a pile at my feet.
And so after that, I was taught how to use and handle every weapon that I might come across. My favorite weapon was one that was specifically made for me. It was a pointed staff that at both ends, the sides could come down into what looks like a trident, but a trident on both ends of the staff. My favorite part of the staff was the electrical charge that it could put off. The charge was powerful enough to put any mech into stasis for at least a half a deca-cycle.
So for two vorns, I learned how to fight and I was happy.
That's basically all that happened up until the Decepticons attacked and now I'm here in an unknown place all alone.
I sighed, curled into a tight ball and shuttered my optics.
