By: Tor

A lone figure moved briskly down a darkened street. Weak light from the streetlamps threw circles of yellow down onto the sidewalk. Small condo-like houses stood close together, as if huddling to escape the chill of night. The clack of metal on concrete was the only sound that broke the heavy silence.

The figure, Ami, a teenaged femme, was bathed in light as she stepped into ring of yellow. She was smaller than most other femmes her age, but radiated self-confidence. Light glinted off her light green torso plate and a Maximal symbol was emblazoned in red on her right breast. Her arms, legs, and face were the same bright color as her chest, but accented with gold. Bright yellow optics gleamed from beneath the rim of her helmet.

Ami had lived alone with her father Ayron, for most of her life. Ami really did love her dad, but he was over-protective and paranoid. He changed with the death of her mom. Her mother, Sunburst, was just a vague memory, a reflection in a clouded mirror. When Ami had asked about her, her dad’s expression became blank, and he said a few words about her spirit and strong will. Then he would usually turn the subject onto the something completely random, most-likely, the dangers of boys. And the importance of curfews.

Speaking of curfews, Ami was sure she had just broken hers, which meant she was due for a twenty-cycle lecture on respecting the rules when she got home.

“Yuck,” Ami crinkled her nose in disgust at the thought. Suddenly, low rumble met her audios, and Ami cocked her head to the side, frowning slightly. It sounded like multiple cars were coming closer. Ami lengthened her stride, fluid-pump pounding. And those cars were either Preds, or the Maximal Police Force. Since her house was closer to the Predacon/Maximal border, it was probably Predacons. Not good.

A huge dark purple sports car with slick wheels, tinted windows, and gleaming bodywork turned on to the street and now was roaring down toward her. A slightly smaller blue car, a red jet, a buzzing hovercraft, a tank, and a triwalker followed.

Ami’s breathing shifted from normal breathing to fast pants, as fear gripped her and froze her legs. She had seen this gang before, but only in the news. It was Predacon Pride, the most feared gang in history, lead by Megatron the 2^nd. She had heard a lot about them, and none of it had been good.

The purple car slowed and stopped in front of her, the engine rumbling menacingly before it clicked and stopped.

“Predacons, terrorize!” All of the vehicles transformed. The purple car, Megatron, changed, his wheels disappearing into his legs. They, along with his arms, were covered with purple armor that shined, as if Megatron had had it polished. A squared helmet covered his head, with a bold Predacon symbol in the center. Purple optics blazed with a terrible glee. Probably because he was fingering a huge blaster.

Ami regained feeling in her legs, and stumbled backward, hand reaching backward. She felt a wall of a house. She pressed herself against it, wishing she could magically phase through it.

Megatron smirked as he watched her expression, “Well, well, it seems there’s a Maximal who has lost her way, yesss!” His voice was rich and smooth, like dark chocolate.

Ami would have noticed that Megatron’s teammates (except the tank) rolled their optics and looked exasperated, if she hadn’t been so worried about the fifteen-foot Predacon getting closer to her.

“S-stay back!” Ami raised her hand, which looked ridiculously small and weak compared to Megatron, in front of her.

“Oh-who! I believe she’s going to slap you, Megatron,” sneered the triwalker. He had a slit-like optic, and his helmet covered his mouth. His three legs curled sinisterly up around his head, poised to strike. His bodywork was murky purple, streaked with green. His hands ended in wickedly curved claws.

Ami bit her lip. Normally she would’ve snapped back, but when its six-to-one odds, you don’t be a smart-aleck. But she would show that stuck up male she could put up a fight. Four blades extended from the top of her hand, glowing with a bright shimmering blue light.

Megatron stopped coming closer, eyeing the glowing blades warily. One of the fliers, haphazardly splashed with yellow and black, and rotating propellers attached to his wings, eyed the glowing blades happily, “Zzzoombot likezzz the pretty light.” His voice sounded like he had been sucking on helium all his life.

“Why don’t you touch the ‘pretty light’?” the triwalker suggested, even though he had no mouth, Ami could tell he was smiling evilly. Zoombot flew closer to Ami, who watched him, half-frightened, half-menacing.

“Don’t do it, Zoomy!” the other flier called to Zoombot. He had a milky white face with arrogant features. He had a silver and red body, with wings jutting from his shoulders and a jetpack on his back.

Zoombot pulled up, and hovered above her, propellers buzzing. He was mumbling unhappily, but he listened to the other flier.

The blue car, now transformed into Predacon, stepped forward. His exhaust pipes forming hornlike protuberances from his helmet. Blue bodywork covered his broad chest, muscled arm and legs. A red Predacon symbol was emblazoned on his left arm. His optics met Ami’s. They were a deep crimson, fiery and captivating.

“Aw, come on, Megs. She’s not worth the trouble,” he said, optics lingering on hers.

“Megatron is our leader! Do not order him around!” the grey tank-bot snapped. A gigantic gun was attached to his left arm. His legs finished in a continuous tracks that allowed his vehicle mode to move. His head was built rather like the rotating turret on a tank, big and square (and in Ami’s opinion, stupid). He had a single optic, like the triwalker, and it was focused solely on Megatron.

“Be quiet, Crusher,” Megatron said eyes on Ami, stroking his blaster. After a agonizingly long pause, he seemed to reach a decision. “You’re right, Speed. Predacons, transform.”

The Predacons transformed, revving their engines. Speed, Ami now knew his name, was last to transform.

“Thanks,” she gave the Predacon a small, shy smile.

Speed tilted his head, cocked an eyebrow, and studied her. Then he transformed.

With the roar of engines, a screech of tires, and the blistered smell of burning rubber, the Predacon gang sped off.

“Primus!” Ami said to herself, breathing deeply. She stayed there, leaning on a wall on a dark street, until her fluid pump slowed to it’s normal rate. Then she turned and sprinted to her house.

The sliding door slid shut with a small hiss. Ami relaxed within the comfort of home.

Colorless carpet covered the floor in every room in the house. Ami thought it was terribly scratchy and boring. The plain, vacant walls were a light peach color. The ceilings appeared to have white cottage cheese splattered across them. A staircase, covered in the same carpet as the floor lead upstairs, was situated in the far corner. Two worn out leather couches were facing the TV, waiting for someone to rest in their depleted cushions. A big window gave light in the daytime and a view of the empty street outside. A lonely lamp stood on a side table, between the two couches. Another table was home to a beautiful vase, white porcelain decorated with blue designs that twisted and curled. Five EI (Earth-Imported) sunflowers poked their yellow heads from the vase. The only color in the room.

Ami gazed sadly at the flowers, they were her mother’s favorite (so her dad said), and her dad had always kept some in the vase. The vase (and a sunflower) was something Ami’s mom had acquired on a trip to Earth.

Ami’s head snapped to the left as the door to the kitchen slid open. Ayron, her father, stormed towards her. He was big, but not as big as Megatron, his bodywork was a faded navy blue, his yellow eyes were probing and sharp. Ami had seen him like this before countless times. He was a combination of anxious and angry.

Ayron looked her up and down, looking for any scratches, dents, or scuffs that he could panic about. Ami rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms. Her dad had her trapped, his hulking frame cutting off her escape route into her room, so Ami had to wait for her dad to finish his inspection. And his scolding.

“Ami, do you know what time it is?” he asked, kneeling down and peering up into her face, eyes wide with anxiety. “Primus! I thought you were hurt-”

“Trapped, kidnapped, or killed,” Ami finished dryly, having heard this speech several times before. “Dad, I’m beat, I’m gonna hit the recharge-”

“Why are you tired? What did you do? Were you chased by somebot?” Ayron asked, alarm spreading on his face.

Ami shut off her audios, and withdrew into her mind, away from her high-strung father. She focused on her afternoon with her girls. Ami, Vix, Devina, and Janette had gone to the mall…

“Well, you don’t act like you do,” Janette replied, and began ticking the reasons off her fingers, “You never tell us who you like, you’re all about sports, and have you ever had a conversation with a guy, other that your dad, that involved some flirting?”

“AMI!”

Ami jumped a foot in the air, startled out of her thoughts. She looked around dazedly, “Wha-?”

“Were you listening to me?!?” Ayron fumed. “I am trying to help you become more aware of the dangers of-”

“Dad, save it,” Ami yawned, then brushed past her dad. She scooted off up the stairs.

As she ascended, she heard her dad mutter worriedly to himself, “Primus. Something must be done about my daughter.”

Ami stepped into the small hallway on the second floor. Only three rooms were upstairs (not counting the hallway). To the left was her room, to the right was a closet and her father’s room. The same colorless carpet covered the floor in all the upstairs rooms, and the walls remained unadorned and bare.

Ami walked to her door. It had a sign blared: “Danger! Keep Out!” in black and yellow.

She pushed open the door. Her room was painted a dark purple. Glow-in-the-dark stars and moons were stuck onto the cottage cheese ceiling. Posters were stuck randomly on her walls, along with a huge mirror. Her recharge bed was painted a deep green and mounted to the far right wall. Another metal door opened to a closet, where a myriad of forgotten objects waited to be remembered. She had a desk in the corner, though it was more like a table with thicker legs. A laptop, screen dark and lifeless, resting on the plain surface of the desk. It faced a window with a view to the dark street below.

Ami flopped onto the recharge bed, and closed her eyes, letting stasis claim her.

Speed (at least it looked somewhat like Speed to Ami) was walking toward him, trying to look casual, but his pace was hurried. Ami fell onto her back, turning away, and curling into a ball. A pair of hands gently pulled her up into a sitting position. She looked up, it was Speed, but he somehow looked different than she remembered him. His eyes were still crimson and bright, but his chest wasn’t shining metal, it looked striped and organic. He looked down on her, a troubled expression on his face. He opened his mouth to speak-

“Ami! Wake up!” Somebody shouted in her ear. Ami promptly fell out of bed and landed in a heap on the floor.

“Ow!” she rubbed her behind, and brought her optics into focus. She noticed irritably that Cybertronian sun hadn’t even peeped its first rays onto the city. She also noticed that her dad was hovered agitatedly above her.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Do need a cooling pack?”

“I’m fine, Dad,” Ami said exasperatedly, picking herself off the carpeted floor. She brushed off her thighs, out of habit, then turned to glare at her father, foot tapping. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

“Yes, and I’m going to be late. I just wanted to tell you I’ll be working a bit later than usual.”

“You could’ve left a note,” Ami grumbled.

“Yes, I could have, but I wanted to tell you, be careful, and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Gee, thanks, Dad,” Ami voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

Ayron looked a little hurt, and his navy blue shoulders drooped a little, “Alright, sleep tight, my little sunburst.” Ami was caught off guard by use of her old nickname. A little confused, Ami got back onto her recharge bed.

Just before Ami shut off her optics, she saw her dad steal a picture of her, Vix, Devina and Janette off of her desk. Ami was about to ask him why he needed a picture of her, when she slipped into stasis.

Ami woke up a few mega-cycles later, feeling fully recharged. Shafts of sunlight played along her walls, and a soft breeze wafted in through her window.

She skipped down into the kitchen which was cramped, to put it mildly. One transformer (provided that transformer wasn't very large) at a time had to squeeze through the Energon-box, a huge appliance that kept Energon crystals stable, a refrigerator, and the counter, which was littered with dirty dishes. The end of the room had a single white topped table and two stiff uncomfortable chairs.

Ami buttered a piece of bread and chewed thoughtfully at it. Ever since Cybertronians landed on Earth, they had tried to imitate the human food. The bread was made with flour mixed with Energon dust, and the butter had liquefied Energon mixed in with the milk. They even had chocolate bars with Energon bits in them (instead of almonds).

Done with her breakfast, Ami, wandered out of the kitchen, into the living room, and sat down, turned on the TV, absently flicking through the channels. Random shots of cartoon humans fighting each other, a robotic mouse running from a brown and white striped blur, flicked past before Ami settled on the news channel.

“In other news,” a bot, named Digit Cyrix, announced, “the unemployment rate is soaring as more and more workers are being replaced with Watt & Son Co. machines. The latest from Watt & Son Co. is the ‘CR (Calculated Recovery) Chamber’. More advanced than the ‘CR Tanks’, the CR Chamber needs no one to keep an eye on the levels of nanobots or Energon, as the CR Chamber has a built-in moderator. The CR chamber even has a special program that allow a medic to a access the patients core-consciousness. This means countless medics are no longer needed in hospitals. Hundreds, if not thousands bots have been laid off. Now to Kole Dour, for our Pred Watch segment.”

The screen showed a coal-black femme, with forest green optics. She did not smile.

“This time in Pred Watch, we have grim news for the Maximal community. Today in the early hours of the morning, the most feared and deadly Predacon gang, emerged from the shadows to cause mayhem near the Maximal Citadel. Seven innocent bystanders were killed, and nine other injured. Their leader Megatron,” a fuzzy picture of the purple sports car appeared in the corner of the screen, “is still eluding Maximal Police Forces, along with his band of five loyal criminals. Anybot with information concerning the whereabouts of this extremely dangerous group of Predacons should call this hotline ASAP.” Kole finished as a number materialized below her stern face.

Ami switched off the TV, she felt sick. She had met those Predacons a few mega-cycles before they killed off those poor bots, who were just minding their own business.

Still a little queasy, Ami went upstairs a few cycles later. She cleaned up some smudges on her cheek, and polished her elbow. She settled at her desk, and turned on her laptop. A Maximal symbol appeared onscreen before being replaced with her desktop.

“Never lose your integrity,” was splashed across the screen in bright red. Ami rolled her eyes. She had to get a password for her computer. Her dad was constantly putting weird little lines on her desktop.

“Whatever, Dad,” Ami muttered and turned her screensaver back to its original setting, a picture of her mom, holding Ami, as a toddler, in a loving embrace.

With a fond look at the picture, Ami started playing pinball, a fun game that Ami gotten addicted to. But after a few rounds, Ami got bored. Pinball could only hold her interest for so long.

Ami got off her laptop and wandered through the house, which was kinda hard, considering the house was so small. She got so bored that she actually did her chores, cleaning the dishes, washing the windows…

“Primus, there is nothing to do!” Ami slumped dejectedly onto her bed. She put herself into stasis lock to pass the time.

“AMI!”

With a small jerk, Ami came out of her self-induced stasis, “Wha-?”

The sun’s light was dying, and night was on her way.

Ayron was looking at her, his face was a mix of emotions. The familiar worry, but there was something else… excitement?

“Well, we have visitors, so come downstairs. And make sure you look decent,” Ayron said happily, before scurrying out of her room.

“Parental units,” Ami sighed exasperatedly to herself. She checked herself in the mirror. She decided she looked fine then left her room.

Ami’s hand ran down the smooth metal banister, not one smudge on her bodywork. She gazed down into the living room.

Two bots were sitting on the cushions, the older one looked disgusted with his surroundings, while the younger one was examining his reflection in a hand-held mirror.

“Ah, Ami,” Ayron said, optics looking her up and down. “This is Mr. Watt,” he gestured at the older bot, “and his son, Conner,” the younger one.

Conner slipped his mirror into his subspace pocket, got up, grabbed Ami’s hand, and began to kiss it.

“Ew, get off!” Ami pulled her hand out of his grasp, and wiped it on Conner.

“I’m sorry, Ami, I was overcome by your beauty,” Conner said greasily.

“Yeah, uh-huh, and I’m Prime’s daughter,” Ami muttered under her breath.

“Ami,” Ayron said, while giving her ‘the look’, “please be courteous to our guests.”

“Fine, Dad,” Ami replied through gritted teeth. Her processor was spinning. Why would a well-known billionaire be at our house?

“Well, missy,” Mr. Watt addressed Ami directly. “I’ll get straight to the point. Your daddy and I have been talking-”

“About what?” Ami shot a suspicious glance at her dad, who refused to meet her gaze.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Your daddy’s come to me with a deal. I give you a safe home far away from Pred territory, top-notch security, and a wealthy lifestyle.”

“In exchange for…?” Ami didn’t like where this was headed…

“Conner lives with you,” Mr. Watt’s silver face smiled at me.

“Like as a roommate?” Ami asked hopefully.

“No, as a husband,” Mr. Watts smile turned into a grin.

“Surprise!” Conner chimed in, taking her hand again.

“No way! And get off!” Her processor wouldn’t work, it was still trying to absorb the enormous shock of it all.

Ayron stepped in, “Ami, you will Bond with this fine young gentlebot, and then you’ll be safe.”

“Yeah right! This is a joke right? A practical joke,” Ami sat down on the couch, Conner sitting down next to her.

“It’s alright, my little love machine,” crooned Conner, placing an arm around my shoulders.

“Back off, Buster,” Ami hissed at him.

“Ami!” her dad rebuked her.

“Dad, shut the slag up!” Ami snarled her dad.

Ayron looked shocked and Mr. Watt raised an eyebrow.

“I’m gone!” Ami stormed out of the house. A white limo was waiting outside. He had the Watt & Son Co. symbol on his door. Ami stalked past him, heading down the street.

“Ami, get back here!” Ayron came out or the house shouting angrily. Ami, in response, started to run.

She ran faster, until her legs were on fire and her fluid-pump was thumping at an alarming rate. Ami dropped onto the sidewalk. With her hands covering her face, Ami did the one thing she rarely did, she began to cry. Thick streams of cleaning fluid ran down her cheeks, and fell onto the pavement. It was too much. An arranged bonding! Ami couldn’t digest the fact that her dad was marrying her off to some guy she’d never met (and totally despised). The tears began to pour from her optics in waves.

The purring of an engine made Ami glance up. It was the blue sports car, Speed. She replaced her face in her hands and continued crying, though it was softer than before. She listened as Speed transformed with a rumble of his engine. Then she felt his hands gently pull her into a sitting position. Ami wiped away the tears and looked at him. His fierce appearance was tempered by a look of concern on his face. His ruby red optics met hers.

“Wh-” Ami tried to talk, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Who am I? Speedstrike,” he said. Ami’s optics found the Predacon symbol on his left arm. Fear crept through her, though she managed to keep it under control. “Who are you?”

“Ami,” she answered. Unbidden, snippets from the news report flashed through her mind, ‘…the most feared and deadly Predacon gang…’, ‘Seven innocent bystanders were killed, and nine other injured’, ‘…still eluding Maximal Police Forces…’. She leaned slightly away from Speedstrike.

There was a flash of hurt across his face, before it became expressionless, and he looked over city. Ami didn’t remember running up hill, but somehow she found herself looking over Meta City. The sun was setting and the first pinprick of light sprouted from streetlamps all over the city.

Speedstrike glanced at her, and Ami didn’t shrink away. For a long moment, they just looked at each other.

Finally he broke the silence, “So, mind telling me why you were so… unhappy?”

She snorted, “That’s putting it mildly.” Speedstrike smiled slightly. “My dad somehow convinced Mr. Watt to arrange a bonding between me and his stupid slagging son.” Ami noticed how bitter her voice sounded. She leaned backward, using her hands as support.

“Well at least your parents pay attention to you,” Speedstrike’s tone matched Ami’s.

“My mom’s dead.”

“Oh, er, I’m sorry.”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Ami didn’t like silence, it always felt oppressive and heavy.

“So… you’re apart of Predacon Pride,” she knew it was a dangerous topic, but she didn’t have any better ideas.

“Yeah,” Speedstrike’s eyes didn’t meet Ami’s, but leaned backward, gazing out on the city. His hand touched hers.

“Oh, sorry,” he definitely didn’t meet Ami’s optics that time.

Ami felt the mech-fluid rush to her face. Anxious to think of something else, she asked, “Well, what’s it like?”

“It’s like having a family.”

“You don’t have one?” Ami tried to keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Well, technically, yes. I have a mom, dad, and a baby sister, but they are not my family. Megs- I mean, Megatron started it. Funnily enough, we started hanging out at his A-Day party. We just sort of became the gang.”

“What do you do?” Ami could’ve asked about all the stupid and evil things the gang had done, but decided it'd be a one-way trip to the Matrix.

“Well, Dexter is the brains, me and Crush are the brawn, Zoombot and Skyflite are air support, and Megs is the leader. We do anything we feel like.”

“So you ‘felt like’ killing seven innocent bots?” Ami’s tone was icy.

Speedstrike’s expression hardened and his tone was like a blast of winter wind, “Look, kid, they were- forget it, you’re a Maximal. What do you care?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ami narrowed her optics.

Speedstrike got up, towering above Ami, “Don’t play innocent with me. For stellar cycles, I, a Predacon, have been second-class to you, a Maximal. Just forget it. Go run home and kiss your fiancé.” Speedstrike turned and began to walk away.

“What the slag is up your exhaust port?” Ami ran up behind him. “Look, pal, I don’t know what your deal is,” Speedstrike turn to face her, and she poked him in the chest, “but, but…” Ami faltered as Speedstrike rose to his full height, at least three feet taller than her.

“Scram,” he said coldly. He transformed, and left Ami in a cloud of nasty-smelling smoke.

“Stubborn jack-” Ami stopped herself, then turned on her heel and walked away.

To Be Continued…