Oh myyyy, a Zackstory update!
Ye gads.
"Torch?" Brightsteel called into the tent. "Hey, Torch! Where are you?"
"Yeah, I'm here!" the mech answered, stepping out from the rear divide. "Who are you and what can I... Primus!"
"Hey, Torch."
The mech ignored him and inspected his handiwork. Sure, he'd made a few upgrades like Brightsteel's before - but he was particularly fond of this sparkling, and he'd put some better style into this job. Seeing it in action...
"Slag, I'm good!" Torch said, proud grin on his face. "Who'da thought? How's it feel, Sparky? Can you move everything all right?"
"I feel amazing!" Brightsteel decided.
The body upgrade felt fluid and looked it - shining black paint caught the light along sharp angles and graceful curves. The updated pitch variation in his vocalizer left little to be desired. His voice sounded strong and forceful - powerful. More than that, Brightsteel felt like he was made for this armor, as much as it was made for him. Whatever special work Torch had put into it showed - in just over four cycles, he moved like a mech who'd recovered for twice as long.
With a new, unfamiliar but comfortable grin, he said, "Torch, you're amazing!"
"You like it then?"
"It's perfect!"
Torch turned the newly-upgraded mech around a few times to get a better look at his work. Pit, if he had it in him to put something like this together... "Well, you're lookin' good, that's for sure. I bet those Autobots take a second look when they see you on the field. When do you ship out?"
Brightsteel grimaced. "A mega-cycle from now. They're getting the last of the teams upgraded before putting us through our final training."
"Primus, that's all? And your whole team isn't even upgraded yet? That's crazy! You'll all still be adjusting to your systems."
Brightsteel offered only a noncommittal tilt of his head. "Orders are orders," he reasoned. "We don't have the time or the troops to spare."
Torch didn't look relieved in the slightest, but there was no point in protesting - as the spark-- no, young mech - said, orders were orders.
"Well," the mechanic sighed, "I suppose you'll be dropping by more than ever now that you know you're on your way out."
"Don't," Brightsteel said. "We don't have to do this now, Torch. We've got time, just like you said."
Torch laughed hollowly. "Kid, it's a war out there. None of us is safe. We're all targets, and we could all be killed any cycle around here. Trust me, I've learned to just take happiness where I can, 'cause none of us knows slag 'bout tomorrow."
Brightsteel nodded, processing Torch's words, but Torch could tell this would be a cruel lesson for his young friend one cycle. The mechanic grieved then for the sure death of what innocence Brightsteel still had.
"Hey, Torch - have you seen Altairix around? I wanted to show him how my upgrade went, but I haven't seen him anywhere."
Torch, focused on the conversation again, tried to remember. "I know he's on a mission right now," he recalled, "but I don't remember when he said he'd be back, if he did say at all."
If there was one thing the armor had done, it exaggerated the young mech's responses. Brightsteel visibly wilted at the news his best friend wasn't around, the broader angles of his new body narrowing in disappointment.
"Don't worry, 'Steel. I'm sure he's fine and I'm sure he'll be back safe and sound before you leave."
"What were you just saying about knowing what happens tomorrow?" the young mech reminded him.
"Never said it hurt to hope," Torch said. When Brightsteel didn't react, he advised, "Look, like I said, the thing about good memories and happiness and all that slag - you gotta take what you can get. Most important thing to remember is you'll regret what you do less than you'll regret what you didn't do. Trust me on that."
Brightsteel looked only slightly less dismal but nodded in acknowledgement. "I think I'll go to the practice range and give this new frame a go. I can actually hold some of the bigger guns now, and I want to see how well it all works now."
"Knock yourself out, but if you ruin that new armor of yours by Primus, I will end you. Clear?"
That finally earned a small smile from the young mech. "Crystal," Brightsteel promised. With that, he waved and left the tent, leaving Torch alone.
"Torch?" Brightsteel called into the tent. "Hey, Torch! Where are you?"
"Yeah, I'm here!" the mech answered, stepping out from the rear divide. "Who are you and what can I... Primus!"
"Hey, Torch."
The mech ignored him and inspected his handiwork. Sure, he'd made a few upgrades like Brightsteel's before - but he was particularly fond of this sparkling, and he'd put some better style into this job. Seeing it in action...
"Slag, I'm good!" Torch said, proud grin on his face. "Who'da thought? How's it feel, Sparky? Can you move everything all right?"
"I feel amazing!" Brightsteel decided.
The body upgrade felt fluid and looked it - shining black paint caught the light along sharp angles and graceful curves. The updated pitch variation in his vocalizer left little to be desired. His voice sounded strong and forceful - powerful. More than that, Brightsteel felt like he was made for this armor, as much as it was made for him. Whatever special work Torch had put into it showed - in just over four cycles, he moved like a mech who'd recovered for twice as long.
With a new, unfamiliar but comfortable grin, he said, "Torch, you're amazing!"
"You like it then?"
"It's perfect!"
Torch turned the newly-upgraded mech around a few times to get a better look at his work. Pit, if he had it in him to put something like this together... "Well, you're lookin' good, that's for sure. I bet those Autobots take a second look when they see you on the field. When do you ship out?"
Brightsteel grimaced. "A mega-cycle from now. They're getting the last of the teams upgraded before putting us through our final training."
"Primus, that's all? And your whole team isn't even upgraded yet? That's crazy! You'll all still be adjusting to your systems."
Brightsteel offered only a noncommittal tilt of his head. "Orders are orders," he reasoned. "We don't have the time or the troops to spare."
Torch didn't look relieved in the slightest, but there was no point in protesting - as the spark-- no, young mech - said, orders were orders.
"Well," the mechanic sighed, "I suppose you'll be dropping by more than ever now that you know you're on your way out."
"Don't," Brightsteel said. "We don't have to do this now, Torch. We've got time, just like you said."
Torch laughed hollowly. "Kid, it's a war out there. None of us is safe. We're all targets, and we could all be killed any cycle around here. Trust me, I've learned to just take happiness where I can, 'cause none of us knows slag 'bout tomorrow."
Brightsteel nodded, processing Torch's words, but Torch could tell this would be a cruel lesson for his young friend one cycle. The mechanic grieved then for the sure death of what innocence Brightsteel still had.
"Hey, Torch - have you seen Altairix around? I wanted to show him how my upgrade went, but I haven't seen him anywhere."
Torch, focused on the conversation again, tried to remember. "I know he's on a mission right now," he recalled, "but I don't remember when he said he'd be back, if he did say at all."
If there was one thing the armor had done, it exaggerated the young mech's responses. Brightsteel visibly wilted at the news his best friend wasn't around, the broader angles of his new body narrowing in disappointment.
"Don't worry, 'Steel. I'm sure he's fine and I'm sure he'll be back safe and sound before you leave."
"What were you just saying about knowing what happens tomorrow?" the young mech reminded him.
"Never said it hurt to hope," Torch said. When Brightsteel didn't react, he advised, "Look, like I said, the thing about good memories and happiness and all that slag - you gotta take what you can get. Most important thing to remember is you'll regret what you do less than you'll regret what you didn't do. Trust me on that."
Brightsteel looked only slightly less dismal but nodded in acknowledgement. "I think I'll go to the practice range and give this new frame a go. I can actually hold some of the bigger guns now, and I want to see how well it all works now."
"Knock yourself out, but if you ruin that new armor of yours by Primus, I will end you. Clear?"
That finally earned a small smile from the young mech. "Crystal," Brightsteel promised. With that, he waved and left the tent, leaving Torch alone.