Transformers, As Told In Oral Tradition

For my storytelling class final we had to do a set of stories that had a theme and one had to be two minutes exactly. The first story was my two minute one and it took skill and a little bit of inspiration from Blurr to fit it in the time frame but I did it.

Kaon and the End of the Golden Age and Hope or What it Mean to be an Autobot

This time I’m going to share a story about a far off world. On the Planet of Cybertron there were many beautiful cities, especially at the peak of the Golden Age. But this isn’t a story about one of them. This is the story of Kaon and the End of the Golden Age.

Kaon wasn’t a city that was lauded for scientific achievement like Crystal City or artistic merit like Iacon. It was a workhorse of a city, where the planet’s smelting activities took place and generally if you lived there you wanted to leave there.

It was also the first to feel murmurs of discord. When the energy mines started running dry, where do you think the unemployed miners went and who suffered the first shortages? Kaon, of course.

And that’s where the trouble started. I bet you didn’t know that the first leader of the Decepticons used to be a miner and that everything started because not only were the miners the first to lose their jobs they were the first to be subjected to energy rationing. Despite the fact they handled energy all day they weren’t allowed a full share of it. The share they felt they deserved. They were only further insulted by getting no help to find other jobs once the mines did dry up. Most ended up in illegal sectors like the Gladiatorial games.

But the miners weren’t content to have things stay the same. At their head was Megatron, once a foreman in the mines he knew how to organize work. Or in this case revolts. And even though their numbers were few that group contained the most ruthless and most disenfranchised of ‘bots. In one night they rose up, taking everyone by surprise and razed the city before any manner of peace keeping force could be mustered. Kaon hadn’t been a bad city, but in one night all the average, well meaning citizens were gone. In one night Kaon became the first warzone in the Great War. The war between a small group of well trained and organized fighters and a larger but civilian based group which only wanted to stop the fighting and restore peace, wishing to return to their science and arts and other idles.

That was the night the Golden Age ended, never to be regained again but often dreamt of, especially by those who were alive to enjoy it.

This next story comes straight from the mouth of one of those Autobots who still dreams of those better days. Tracks is one of my closest friends and my favorite travelling buddy. Before the war he wasn’t exactly your ideal Autobot, living a life of leisure and social engagements and making sure his paint was scratch free and shined to perfection. But he felt a duty to join the Autobot cause and it was on his first assignment that he learned what it meant to be an Autobot. This is a story of Hope or What it Means to be an Autobot.

It was his first combat mission and it hadn’t gone well. In fact that is quite the understatement, everyone else in his unit was dead and he was only spared because he had been knocked unconscious. He regained consciousness, still sprawled out on the battlefield after the enemy had left only to discover that he could barely see anything, enough to know he was still alive but not enough to do him any other good.

And that was when he heard a voice. “Anyone still alive out here?” It called out.

“Yes!” He cried out. “Over here!”

And even though he couldn’t see who his savior was he could see the shape of someone standing over him.

“It must be your lucky day.” The stranger told him. “I’ll call in a medevac.”

Things were starting to look up. But that didn’t last.

The sound of a helicopter approaching was soon engulfed in the sound of an explosion.

“What was that?” Tracks asked.

“Nothing good.” The stranger said, pulling Tracks to stand. “Hope you can walk, we need to go.”

But Tracks couldn’t walk, at least not on his own. He was stuck leaning heavily on the unknown soldier, slowing them both down.

“Where are we going?” Tracks asked.

“To find cover, whatever took down the medi-evac may well be following after us and we need to get ready for ‘um.” And soon the stranger was hiding both of them in some rubble.

Only a few moments after they had hid did the sound of others became audible and soon their enemy announced themselves.

“Make this easy on yourselves, surrender now and we’ll make it quick.”

Now, part of the war effort is of course propaganda where the worst of the worst and their villainous deed are shown. The voice that had called out, looking for prey was one Tracks knew though he’d never met the owner before. Every fresh recruit knew it. It was the voice of the leader of the Predacons, one of the most elite and feared teams the enemy had. Countless battles left hundreds of Autobots dead and those five terrors walking away without so much as a scratch.

“Guess we know why both our teams are dead.” Tracks said.

“Yup.” The stranger replied.

“This is really bad isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Yup.”

“Care to share it?”

“Of course, you’re part of it. You’re gonna go pick a fight with them.”

“What?!” Tracks baulked, “I’m barely functioning and they’re legendary! Are you crazy?”

“We’re in a tight spot, we can’t outrun them so we got to try and work together and fight ‘em. You with me?”

And Tracks? Well they were in a tight spot. So he went out and hurled insults at those ferocious fighters, catching them offgaurd with his brazenness. He was scared out of his wits, unable to see and standing alone and shouting not so nice things at five of the meanest creatures to ever have processing units booted up. But he wasn’t alone. In the time he had surprised the Predacons and amused them the ‘bot who’s name he didn’t know had snuck up behind them. Tracks wasn’t able to see the fight that went on but he heard it and it sounded fierce. Like a transmission quitting while downshifting on the freeway. And before Tracks’ new it, someone had grabbed him and was running as quick as they could manage. “Still got two more on our tails.” The stranger said, more calm than Tracks had ever been his whole life.

And right as the stranger ducked to the ground, pulling Tracks with them, the brazen voice of the leader of the Predacons filled the area. “I have to admit, Autobot, I am surprised. I can’t think of the last time someone took out a Predacon, let alone three. You have my respect. But I am out of patience. And you are out of places to hide.”

“How are you holding up?” The stranger asked Tracks, his voice but a whisper.

“We’re stranded and trapped with no hope of survival! All the stunts and tricks have been for nothing because one on one they’ve got us beat! We’re never going to-“

“Enough!” Said the stranger, his anger almost palpable. “That team on the medi-evac, my friends, gave their lives to rescue you and protect a way of life! Don’t you dare say they died for nothing! When we put on this Autobot badge we made a promise. A promise to ourselves, a promise to our people, a promise to every other Autobot past, present and future! We don’t give up, we don’t lose hope. Now you’re going to pick a direction and start walking and get out of here.”

“But what about you?”

“I’m going to hold them off. I always did want to go out with style.”

And that was when it all made sense, in that moment, even though Tracks couldn’t see he who was speaking or where he was he could see clearer than ever before. Putting your life on the line for your team, doing whatever it took to protect life, that was what it meant to be an Autobot.

And he knew what he had to do. So Tracks jumped out from their cover, running the direction he’d heard the voice of the Predacon leader come from and rammed into him. The Predacon leader threw him off easily and laughed at his attempt but Tracks was the one to stay smiling. He figured that would be plenty of time for the unnamed Autobot to do something and from the sound of things, the great struggle and fight that rang through the air, his comrade in arms had taken the opportunity given and used it successfully.

And then the next sound Tracks heard, going in and out of consciousness again, was the sound of a helicopter fading in from the background and he could hear other friendly sounding voices. Another medi-evac. They were going to make it home after all. And as he was being carried to the hospital he asked for the one who had saved him but he was already gone. So he asked for his name.

But one of the medics who was helping to carry him chuckled and said. “He wanted us to tell you the he was just an Autobot, just like you are, and never forget what that means.”

And that is why Tracks is always happy to share this story with others. We’ve all seen terrible times, awful things, and have plenty of chances to drop it all and walk away. But we don’t. Even us humans who haven’t seen intergalactic war, we keep on and try and do what is right and don’t lose hope. And as long as we stay true to that we’re good people, good Autobots, and we’re never truly defeated.

And those are my two stories, one of bleakness and one of hope on a world so very far from our own. Though human eyes have never seen Kaon or any part of Cybertron you’ve heard about its history, its inhabitants. You’ve heard of that world and no matter what happens in that war, if the whole of that all were to be destroyed a tiny part would live on in each of you and would never truly be dead.