Reminder: This story arc borrows heavily from the Elegant Chaos arc of MTMTE, but with enough changes and twists to be its own thing.
CHAPTER ONE
--Cybertron--
"You've been quiet, Minimus."
The white and green mech looked down at Rewind as the elevator took them away from the landing platform which he had arrived on and into the crowded spaceport. He then looked away and gave a wistful sigh.
"I'm fine, Rewind, it's just... I was hoping to see my brother. I haven't heard from him in months."
"You know how he is; always busy," Rewind said. "And the Functionist Council just keeps piling the work on."
"Don't get me wrong, I admire his work ethic. But...." Minimus gave another sigh. "I spend two thousand years offworld and he doesn't come to greet me in person? Bad enough that our relationship has never been much of a... steady one."
"Well, I'm sure you two can patch things up, make up for lost time." As they reached the bottom of the escalator, Rewind cast a glance over his shoulder. "Your friends seems to be lagging behind."
"Hurry along, EVE," Minimus called to the small, sleek probe unit. "You don't want to get caught out on your own."
"My apologies, sir," EVE responded in a monotonic feminine voice. "I was simply feeling... disquieted for failing you."
"You didn't fail me," Minimus said, waving a hand dismissively. "The other probe units my teammates were using didn't have much better luck in tracking down organic life. The fact that the Black Box Consortia has been using new stealth tech doesn't help either."
"Is she one of the new class?" Rewind asked Minimus, referring to EVE. "I remember hearing something about the Council purchasing a planet from the Black Box Consortia after trading in Luna 2 ten years ago. Since then we've been receiving all sorts of new classes and models."
"Yes, she is from that tradeoff. This organic species had created her type to track down vegetation that would lead them to an inhabitable planet. Now the Primal Vanguard has been using them to track down techno-organic worlds and 'cleanse' them of either mechanical or organic elements. All for the greater good, of course...."
"Nova Prime would have been proud," Rewind commented.
"Would he have been?" Minimus asked. "I don't think anyone who knew him is alive today. Alpha Trion had already passed when I left."
"I dabble in history these days, or at least in whatever Dom's been able to save from the Purge."
"I thought disposable class weren't allowed to have such interests."
"Dom was able to pull some strings to get me promoted to research assistant," Rewind said. "Believe me, if I was still d-class, I would be instant scrap for using a computer terminal without permission."
The three of them eventually reached the spaceport' passage to the classless area of Cybertron. As they stood in line to show their identification to the hulking Functionary officer standing guard, Minimus looked around and noticed something he found peculiar.
"Rewind, is it just me or... are there more of you around? More data-slugs?"
"More like fewer other people," Rewind said as he showed his ID to the Functionary. "The Council have made tons of mass recalls while you were gone-- Cybertronian and non alike. The laser pointers, the waste allocators, the Lunabots--"
"Lunabots? But they were astro class-- the Functionists never touched them."
"Not until we lost a Luna satellite to even go to."
Musing over this, it took Minimus a minute to realize that he had not been given clearance by the Functionary, who was instead frowning at his ID-- or, rather, frowning more than usual.
"Is there a problem, officer?" Minimus asked. "I am alt mode exempt. Primal Vanguard. See?"
"Your status symbol is out of date."
"Well, I have been--"
"I require proof of function. Let me examine your transformation cog?"
"Pardon me?" Minimus said, somewhat bewildered. "Don't you need me to show you my alt mode first?"
"Ever since the incident with the Pretenders, our security checks have become a bit more direct," the officer grunted. "Now let me see your transformation cog."
Grudgingly, Minimus complied with the order and lowered his chest panel to expose his spark and T-cog. As the Functionary started to scan it, a sudden cry was heard coming from behind him.
"Outta my way!"
Colliding into the Functionary and knocking him and Minimus to the ground was a damaged mech in brown and white, looking panicked and distraught.
"Wait... Rocket?" Minimus murmured, recognizing his old friend. "Rocket, is that you?"
The Lunabot paid him no heed as he ran into the crowd, pushing other mechs and femmes out of the way. In pursuit of him was another Functionary, who stopped to help his fellow officer up.
"Where the slag did he come from?" the first Functionary muttered.
"He was hiding in the hangars, along with another one-- a waste allocator. Both of them are deranged; guess their obs chips only did half the job."
The Functionary grunted as he got to his feet. "Keep your optics out for the other one. This one's mind."
Minimus could only watch in horror as the Functionary raised his arm blaster at the fleeing Lunabot and fired, blasting Rocket's head to smithereens. No sooner had the dead Lunabot's body fallen to the floor when another cry was heard.
"Ee-vah!"
All heads turned to see a small, cube-shaped robot rolling through the spaceport, dashing under passers-by legs as it tried to make its way towards Minimus, Rewind, and EVE. Before it could reach its destination, the other Functionary fired his own weapon. This time, there wasn't even a body left for a harvester unit to recover.
Shaken by this entire incident, Minimus nonetheless hid it as he, Rewind, and EVE turned and left the spaceport while one of the Functionaries called into his communicator.
"This is Functionary 664 to the Cog. Subject is terminated. Repeat: the last of the Lunabots and waste allocators have been recalled."
No one in the crowd paid any of these events any heed. After all, for the past twenty thousand years, it had all become simply another part of life.
WHEN TIME RUNS OUT
Part II: A Better Tomorrow
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