Transformers Origin story: D-Cal (G1)

Soaring above the skies of Cybertron, two forms rocketed their way across the sky, their optics on the lookout for trouble. They were Seekers, one black and one green, both in their familiar three-winged Cybertronian jet forms. The green one radioed to his companion, “Hey, Night Strike, looks like we’re almost done with our patrol. What do you say we head on over to the pub for a few cubes of high-grade energon?”

With a chuckle, his partner replied, “You sure know how to charm a girl, Grimwing.”

“Eh, it’s a talent,” the green one said casually.

About an hour later, after reporting their findings to their superiors, the two found themselves in their favorite establishment. It was a small place where many less-prominent Decepticons gathered to wash their bad moods away. They were not interested in partaking in one of the frequent brawls that broke out there, at least not that night, so they picked a booth in the far back corner of the room. As a waiter placed a small glowing cube in front of each of them, Night Strike asked, “So, how’s that new martial art you’re working on coming?”

“Oh, I’m making great progress,” Grimwing replied. “A few more weeks, and I should be ready to demonstrate it to Shockwave. If all goes well, it could even be integrated into the Decepticon training regimen.”

“That’s great!” Night Strike exclaimed.

“So what about you?” her friend asked as he took a sip of the cube. “I heard about Starscream. Such a pity; I heard you two were close.”

“Yeah, well, I gotta admit he had it comin’,” Night Strike said, waving her hand in dismissal. She took a sip of energon and continued, “The guy was a greedy ingot head. It was only a matter of time ‘til Megs offed him.”

“Megatron?” Grimwing said in confusion. “So you haven’t heard…”

“Heard what?” Night Strike asked.

“Megatron never made it back after that last battle on Earth,” Grimwing explained. “Apparently, Starscream was killed by someone called Galvatron. He’s in charge of the Decepticons now.”

“Huh. Megatron falling in battle… I never thought I’d see the day,” Night Strike said wistfully.

Suddenly, the ground shook violently, sending the two crashing into the ceiling and back to the ground again. A loudspeaker blared to life and the voice of Shockwave sounded out: “Decepticons, we’re under attack! Scramble!”

The two leaped from their seats and rushed outside. Looking up, they could only stand, their mouths agape. Before them stood an impossibly large robot, its orange form so massive that it filled half the sky and still wasn’t fully visible. “Let’s get out of here,” Grimwing urged. Night Strike nodded in agreement, and the two took off running.

Behind them, a hand large enough to make Devastator seem like a human infant slammed into the street several blocks behind them. Hundreds of tons of debris flew out away from the impact. Night Strike heard a yell behind her and turned to look. She gasped as she beheld the sight of her partner impaled by a chunk of metal nearly twice her height. She turned around and grasped the wreckage, pulling with all her might to remove it, but it held fast. “Go,” the stricken Decepticon said weakly. “Get… out… of… here…” Then he collapsed, his eyes dimming a few moments before finally flickering and going out.

Night Strike stood, aghast. Her fists shook with rage. Grimwing was one of her oldest friends; they had known each other since they were protoforms. Now he lay dead because some creature wanted their home as a snack? “You…” she growled, looking up at the monster that was currently devouring everything it could get its hands on. “You’re going to pay for this!”

With a roar of righteous fury, she transformed and took off to join the battle waging overhead.  With her rage pushing her thrusters into overdrive, she reached the scene in no time. Locking on to the monster’s face, she let loose with her cannons and a flurry of missiles.

The weapons had little effect, and she roared past it, looping around for another pass. Suddenly, she felt something impact her from behind, knocking her back into robot mode and pushing her towards it. It was the creature’s hand, and it was pushing her towards its gaping maw. She knew she should be frightened, but all she could think of was tearing apart the creature’s insides when she got inside.

Within moments, Night Strike was falling down the monster’s throat. Two sets of red pinschers grabbed her and pulled her down a dark shaft. She struggled, but the claws held fast. It went on and on before finally emerging into a larger shaft with a long suspended conveyor belt, which the claws wasted no time hooking her up to. Stretching her arms as much as she could, she let loose with a volley of cannon fire, which barely even left a mark on the walls. Looking around, she could barely see other places where the walls had been shot up. Clearly, all the others in line in front of her had tried that as well. The creature’s armor was just as strong inside as it was on the outside. She tried to get a shot at the conveyor, but it had her gripped in such a way that she couldn’t bend her arm enough to point it in the right direction. She slumped in defeat; she had failed. Her only consolation was that she would see he friend again soon.

Night Strike waited for the end in solemn silence. Occasionally, the sounds of battle would reverberate through the creature’s thick armor plating, but aside from that, the only sound to be heard was the whirring of the conveyor as it moved her forward. After several minutes of uneventful sliding along the line, Night Strike finally turned a corner to see a violet glow up ahead. She craned her neck to get a better view. The glow was coming from some sort of vat up ahead. As she watched, she saw someone be released from the conveyor into the glowing pool of… something. The robot’s screams echoed through the corridor, only to fade into silence moments later, after which the next on the line was dropped. Oh, no. I am not going to be melted down for scrap! Night Strike thought as she renewed her struggle to free herself.

“Dad!”

“Daniel!”

Night Strike paused for a moment. Those were definitely not Cybertronian voices. In fact, they didn’t sound like robots at all—they sounded organic. She twisted herself to get another look ahead. Sure enough, she spotted a little human, even punier than usual, standing at the base of the vat in some sort of robot-suit. She could hear the other voice, whom she assumed to be another human somewhere in line ahead of her, calling out instructions. Maybe we do have a chance after all, she thought with a smirk. Several energy blasts shot out from the arms of the suit, hitting the hydraulics holding the vat’s lid open. It slammed shut just in time to stop another robot-suit-clad human from falling in. That little brat did it! Maybe some humans aren’t so useless after all, she thought. She waited as, one by one, each of the giant robot’s victims was released onto the lid of the vat. Finally, her turn came up, and she landed gracefully on her feet.

As Night Strike jumped off the vat, a rumble filled the chamber. Suddenly, an explosion ripped apart one of the walls. She turned to her fellow newly-released Decepticons and yelled, “This way!” Together, they ran through the hole, following the explosions as they ripped additional holes towards the outside. Finally, a falling support column landed against the next wall and tore open a hole to the outside. “Move!” Night Strike yelled as she helped her fellow Decepticons (and even an Autobot or two) out the hole. Finally, looking back and seeing no one, she leaped out of the hole herself. Before she could orient herself towards Cybertron, another explosion sent her tumbling.

As Night Strike struggled to steady herself, she spotted the creature’s head fly off past her. Finally, her antigravity thrusters kicked in and put a stop to her tumbling. She looked back just in time to see the creature’s body explode in a brilliant fireball. She smiled; she may not have been the one to avenge Grimwing, but he was avenged nonetheless. This thought was silenced as a large, red-hot piece of shrapnel flew towards her and pierced her eye. Everything became darkness.

---

“We found her drifting in orbit around the planet,” the lab assistant said to his superior. “She must have escaped from that monster just before it exploded.”

The head scientist nodded, lost in thought. “What is her condition?” he asked.

“Her afterburners and antigravity thrusters were badly damaged by the force of the explosion. There was enough thrust left for her to steady herself in space, but she never would’ve been able to fly again. As for the shrapnel, it went in through her left optic and fused the components. There’s no way we can replace it,” the assistant explained. “More importantly, it pierced her metaprocessor. It’s completely shattered. Although her vital signs are stable, she is essentially dead.”

“Pity; she had so much potential,” the scientist said, shaking his head. He turned and left the room, where one of his fellow scientists was waiting.

“I know that look,” she said. “You’re about to do something morally dubious.”

“I’ll have to put a new metaprocessor in her,” he began. The two of them started walking down the hallway. “I’ll miss her talents, but her body is unusually high quality as well, and I cannot let that go to waste. She may still be useful.”

“Useful for what?” the female scientist asked.

“This creature, this ‘Unicron’, came out of nowhere,” he explained. “We can’t allow ourselves to be caught off-guard like this. Some friends and I have started an organization that will train a crack team of special agents to detect and nullify any future outside threats to Cybertron.”

“And if you are caught?” she asked. “The Autobots won’t take kindly to this if they find out.”

“I’ll just play it off as memory loss,” he said dismissively. “The team will exist separately of any political allegiances and consist of both Autobots and Decepticons.”

The two scientists reached the end of the hallway and stepped out onto a balcony overlooking a crowded courtyard. At the other end, an orange Autobot stepped out, holding a strange blue-glowing artifact. He spoke loudly to the crowd, “Let this mark the end of the Cybertronian wars! ‘Til all are one!”

Even the scientists couldn’t help but smile at the crowd’s optimism as the area was filled with cries of “’Til all are one!”

---

Consciousness stirred in the being’s mind. Slowly, she squinted as her optics lit up for the first time. The first thing she noticed was that only one eye was responding, even though her firmware insisted she should have two. Dismissing the issue for the moment, she looked around. She was lying on a metal bed with wires and cables hooked up to various points on her body. She could feel the electricity and energon coursing through them into her body. She heard a hissing sound and turned her head to see a door slide open and another mechanical being step through. “Ah, you’re awake. You can call me the Researcher. Do you know where you are?” he asked. The being shook her head. “No, I didn’t think you would. Welcome to your new life, Nightlash.”