Episode I(V) - 'These Are Not The Droids You're Looking For'

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She couldn’t believe it.

She could not. Believe. It.

Tiny pedes kicked against the edge of the Cybertronian-sized couch. It all had to do with the shock. An uneventful pick up. The first proper medical attention she’d received in vorns. Thirty human years plus some unresolved space-crazy, she reasoned, because the standard Cybertronian had always been an average sort of ‘big’ and she’d never, ever had to do a double-take to realise she was in the presence of giant freaking robots before.

On the plus side, the sheer scale of the entertainment system before her was a marvel that threatened to make her explode with all the happy.

The orange minicon was sure she had never felt so happy in all her short life. She cradled the roughly-made cube in her hands like it was a turbopuppy made of glass. They had real energon! And a shower room with proper cleaning-grade solvents! Most of all, to have her comm. array back online so she could blast the slag out of this mother without even getting off her aft was a joy bordering on unfettered delirium. Electrocap had developed a sincere love for this wild planet but Primus: she never knew until this moment someone could miss civilisation so fragging much it actually hurt.

And all she was trying to do was pick a movie. Her EM field pulsed arrhythmic flares of glee! at such a simple accomplishment – navigating through her first proper sync in what felt like at least a million years. Mental threads flicked through folders and sub-folders on the gigantic screen in front of her as she searched through the pickings offered by the kids’ harddrives. (Their very own human civilian walk-ins. Holy slag that was AWESOME.) She was looking for something with comedy. Disney levels of action and violence. In the mood for something that made easy, relaxed viewing, where she didn’t need to think.

Her optical ridges crinkled in concentration as she scoured through her choices, and then: she found it. Perfect. Grinning, she scooted backwards until her back was against the huge mesh cushion, before pressing the very real ‘Play’ button inside her processor.

The screen went black, except for the stars. And then the blare of brass instruments, as that all-too distinctive theme began to play…

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It was the music that caught his attention.

He was midway down to one of the closed off levels to inspect the crusted diesel fuel tanks and inoperative oxidizer vapour detectors when he heard it. Maximus came to a halt and frowned, looking back over his shoulder.

The instrumental tune echoed through the halls. It was not uncommon to hear music playing somewhere in the base, especially when the children were visiting. Miko's musical selection in particular was usually very - loud. And carrying. The bass line alone could rattle plating. Maximus was a tank with a torsion bar assembly suspension built to outlast the most rugged terrain, but even he couldn't handle death metal.

But the hour was late, the night quiet and dark. All three of the children had gone home. The base was quiet, it's occupants either resting or out on scheduled patrol. Off-duty, Maximus paced the halls in an attempt to stave off restlessness.

It was an old habit, long beaten into him after thousands of years of security duty. The war didn’t rest, so neither did he. Check doors, shine a light down abandoned wings, inspect monitors - walk those hundreds of miles of empty corridors with a sharp optic and your gun at your back. Don't trust a security camera - do it yourself. Test every lock. Expect trouble, so it wouldn't surprise you when it came.

It was wearying, and seeing the Autobot base empty night after night granted him little peace of mind. But at least it was something to keep him occupied.

Now he stood and listened warily, one optic narrowed.

Sounded like someone else was awake.

For a moment he grappled with the desire to keep walking. But after a pause he sighed and reluctantly turned around. Better see who was up.

The music was coming from the common room. It wasn't much of a space - just another old and rusted out room crudely converted for Cybertronian use. Like the control room it had been supplied with a large view screen and seating. The walls echoed, the ventilation rattled overhead. But it was better than nothing.

Images flickered on the active screen. Nonplussed, Maximus stood in the doorway and eyed the room's only occupant.

"Electrocap, isn't it?" he said. "What are you doing?"