The Lonely

She hadn't thought it through, she knew that.  She wasn't clear on what was going to happen, and she was afraid.  She was taking a step into the unknown, in the hope it would end her suffering.  She was a burden, or she would soon be.

Lilac stepped closer to the edge of the cliff and closed her eyes.  The cold mist softly stroked her, the gentle breeze caressed her, it was so peaceful up here.  She bowed her head solemnly, her hair draped across her face.  She breathed in a quivering breath, and let it out in a long sigh.  This was it. This is what she had come to do.  She looked up and through a clearing in the mist, down across the valley and in the open desert plain she could see it still.  Her base, her home.  The Maximal base was the only home she had.  

They'd tried to convince her she was one of them, welcome and loved like one of them., but she knew otherwise.  She was once the enemy, the Predacon, taken in by one like her when she, like him, abandoned the Predacons.  She abandoned them because she felt a sense of longing, like she was meant for somewhere else.  She thought, and so did he, that the Maximal base was her calling.  Both were wrong.  She didn't belong here, there or anywhere.  And Cybertron, her true home, had been just as eerie and unwelcoming.  Amongst a crowd of people, she felt alone.  

"Dinobot," she whispered.  Her body lurched as she tried to hold back her sobs.  Oh, he had hope for her.  He thought she had such potential and would manage in her new faction.  

"I'm not one who trusts in people easily," he had said, "nor do I rely on them either.  But you, there is something about you.  You are so...enigmatic.  I know, I feel that you will bring something to the Maximals that none of us could, something that we much need, although I am not sure yet as to what that is."

And he had taken her, weak as she was after the battle, into his arms and carried her home, to his home, although it wasn't really his either.  The Maximals had accepted her.  She was young, only opened from a stasis pod a few weeks ago and a hesitant fighter when it came to battles.  Hardly a threat, they took her in and allowed her to become one of them.  Rattrap had, she thought with a weak smile, despised her almost instantly.  Until he realized just how soft, quiet and introvert she was...so unlike a Predacon.  The silly bot has fallen in love with her in the strangest way.  More like he took on the role of an older brother, watching out for her, cuddling her when she was down, which was most of the time.

"Lilac," he would say, when he stepped into her quarters, "what's da madda wid' you, sweet one?  Why are ya cryin?  There's no reason, we just won our battle against dem Preds, Rhinox is outta  da CR chamber and he's just fine and you, you made a great scout today.  If it weren't for your spottin' their advance on our base, we would have been caught totally unprepared.  So why, sweet one, do ya cry like ya do? Every day, at this time."

Sweet one.  She smiled softly.  He made her feel special, he did.  But he could never understand why she cried every day at that time.  And, to a point, neither could she.  The memories came flooding back to her:

Cybertron.  She was in the tiny flat.  She had her daughter beside her in the sitting room.  They were watching their favourite comedy.  They were laughing.  There suddenly was a crash, the sound of glass shattering in the room next door.   She'd stood up, startled.  "Get behind the table, hide!" she'd whispered to her daughter.  She left the room only to bump into the large bot.  Black from head to toe with red eyes and a stern face.

He'd  smashed through the glass door of the patio, and behind him were two officers with laser guns cocked and ready.  "Identification!" he barked.  she started backing away.  "Show me your identification!" he yelled.

"I...I don't have any!"

"Ah, then!  It's as I suspected," he turned and looked at his officers.

"An illegal immigrant. And what's worse, she's a Maximal," he spat, eyeing her badge on her torso plate.

"Do you know what the rule is in Ryolaxtren?" he asked.

She was shaking with fear and didn't answer.

"The rule," he said coldly, "is that this city has reached its population limit.  No more Maximals, or Predacons, but especially Maximals, are allowed in this city.  Now where did you come from?  Oncleratox?"

She nodded slowly.

"Go back, or we'll have to force you back!" he growled.

She shook her head.

"No, no please.  We fled from that city, it's under siege!  You can't live there, bots, they're being killed left right and center.  I battled to leave that place!"

"Shut up!" he snapped.

"Please," she whimpered," I pay my taxes, I only have used two rooms in this flat.  The sitting room serves as a bedroom as well, the other room is a wash room, we're really not taking up any space we-"

"We?" he growled?  "We?"

Her eyes widened and before she knew it, all hell broke loose.  They burst into the room, she tried to stop them from finding her baby, but they threw her against the wall and she slid down in a crumpled heap.  She watched through shattered optics as they found her, picked her up roughly by her arm.

"Bloody Maximals.  Breed like Earthen flies, they do!" one sniggered.

"Don't hurt her!" she whispered hoarsely  They'd shattered her voice control.

They shook her violently, she screamed and kicked.  They laughed at her struggling until her foot actually succeeded in kicking the officer who held her.  He dropped her with a cry and she made a dash for the door.  There was blinding flash of light, a bang and the sound of metal being smashed.  The light cleared away and she saw her, lying dead on the floor, her body parts splayed out across the room, her remains lying in a pool of bubbling mech fluid.

"That'll teach the little wretch!" the officer snarled.  He strode over to her and lifted her head up and breathed down her neck.

"Where's your husband?" 

She remained silent, quietly mourning the death of her child.  Her body was limp, her mind was going crazy.  She was filled with anger, hatred and loss.  Her insides twisted with screaming agony and she closed her eyes.

"Where is he?"

--------

The memory faded.  She sucked in the air, her chest heaving.  Her throat tight and burning.  Her husband was killed in the fighting in Oncleratox.  The officers had taken her to a cargo ship where she and other illegal immigrants were packed like sardines and sent back to the city.  There she remained for several days without sustenance.  She was almost dead when she saw the offer.  "Crew needed for Axalon ship.  Research Expedition.  Applicant must be skilled in science and must have good technical skills. Must be able to navigate a ship."  She had applied, of course.  She had once long time ago, been a very successful scientist here, before the civil war broke loose and her career, her life, when to the Pit.  She got in, but not as the immediate crew. She was to become a protoform.  They assured her that they would try and preserve her memories, but there was a high risk that she'd forget, but she would retain the knowledge of her skills and be able to still perform tasks when she awoke.  She told them not to bother, she wanted to forget this life.  She was put in a stasis pod and when she awoke, she had been found, on prehistoric earth, by the Predacons.  The enemy.  It was no wonder she never felt at ease there.  But only when her memories started coming back, stronger each time, did she start to get haunted by her past and the sense that she belonged nowhere wrenched at her spark.

She was tormented.  She couldn't do anything with herself when she was having a flash back.  She constantly felt depressed, confused and helpless. As a result of this, she made a bad scientist and a terrible technician (two things she used to excel at) and was reduced to a scout. They had tried at best to make her feel welcome, to make her feel like she had a place there, a purpose.  But her spirit had died a long time ago and she was no use to anyone.  She was getting worse.  She soon would go insane with grief. 

She was now at the very edge, her feet halfway hanging off the cliff.  She held up the flower in her hand that she had been clenching the whole time she'd climbed up here.  It'd taken her hours, but now the sun had started its rise and hung low in the sky, which was a blend of oranges and soft purples, fading into the light blue of daylight.  It was a  breathtaking view, this planet was so beautiful.  She stood still for a long time, looking at the world below, clenching the flower that Cheetor had given her yesterday to cheer her up.  Sweet kid, Cheetor. Reminded her so much of Tax, her daughter's friend.  She put the flower to her chest and shut her eyes for the last time. She had tasted life, love and kindness and she was thankful for that.  Her grief was a disease, she was a burden. She took a deep breath, and jumped.

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