S Y S T E M R E S T A R T I N G . . .
The femme's optics flickered online focusing on the night sky framed by the tops of buildings. Only a few stars were visible, the rest hidden by the lights of Cybertron. Her audio circuits picked up the sounds of life in the distance. Her processor felt foggy and her thoughts were sluggish. She grimaced at the sour taste in her mouth. Unbidden, a systems status report scrolled across her vision.
S P A R K F U N C T I O N : O P T I M A L. B R A I N M O D U L E F U N C T I O N : I M P A I R E D. T - C O G F U N C T I O N : O P T I M A L. F . I . M . C H I P F U N C T I O N : O F F L I N E. M E M O R Y B A N K S R E S T O R E D. P R E S E N C E O F E N G E X D E T E C T E D. I N T E R N A L C H R O N O M E T E R : 0 7 0 0 C Y C L E S.
Wonder why it brought up my memory banks. Maybe that's a side effect of the engex. She sat up carefully, fighting off a wave of dizziness. Funny, I don't remember drinking anything...
"Hey, you there!" The cry startled her out of her musing. Shielding her optics against the city lights, she looked towards the source to see a tall, silver mech standing at the entrance to the alley.
"Oh, hey there. Just out for some fresh air." She winced at a spike of pain that shot through her processor.
The mech folded his arms and scoffed. "You have some before you came? Nobody goes out after one drink."
"Might've." The femme hauled herself to her pedes, steadying herself with a servo on the alley wall. The other servo rested on her helm. Ugh. My head feels...empty. She frowned at that. Why does it feel empty? ...why can't I remember anything?
The mech surveyed her condition and sighed. "Come on. I'm not leaving you to trip over your own pedes."
She shook away her thoughts, giving him a bemused look as he came over to assist. "You always help out strangers?"
He grunted. "Only when they're lightweights who can't look out for themselves."
She opened her mouth to retort but bit it back, deciding there was no use insulting someone who was offering her help. They hobbled over to a door in the alleyway, stepping through into a bar. A smoking data slug lay in the shadows behind them.
The interior turned out to be a rather large bar. A short walkway lined by booths on both sides led to the counter in the back, where several stools sat. The mech deposited her on one of the stools and slipped behind the bar, rattling around the various bottles and bartending equipment. The femme propped her elbow joints on the counter, massaging her helm with one servo.
"So you're the owner of this establishment?" She asked to distract herself from the nausea building.
"That's right. You're in A Cut Above. I'm Razorblade." The bartender finished what he was doing and set a small container in front of her containing a light purple liquid.
She glanced at it skeptically. "You're giving me a drink to get over a hangover?"
Razorblade rolled his optics, crossing his arms. "It's a special blend for hangovers. Drink up, before I change my mind."
She picked it up, braced herself, and took a swig. It was cool and smooth, with a sweet aftertaste. "Huh. I was expecting it to taste terrible." Already her processor was beginning to clear, her thinking becoming less sluggish.
The bartender smiled. "That your idea of a compliment?"
She shrugged. "I don't do compliments very well, giving or receiving." She finished off her drink and handed the glass back to him. "Very nice blend. You should bottle it and sell it to the medical centers; I think their bedside manners have permeated their medicines."
He laughed, taking the glass from her servo to clean it. "Ah, you're not so bad, kid. Got a name?"
"Funnily enough...I can't think of one. Mind's gone blank. I guess I don't do being put on the spot either."
He raised an optical ridge at that. "I didn't ask if you could think of one, I asked if you had one."
She shrugged. "Don't really know. I-" She frowned. The system status report mentioned something about my memory banks...
They were interrupted by a loud, echoing voice coming from outside, the words barely discernable. Razorblade scowled. "Ah, forget it. Let's get a move on, Rodimus has started his speech already."
The femme stood up slowly, pleased to find her balance restored. "Hold on, I haven't paid you ye-"
"Save it." He stepped out from behind the bar and made his way to the entrance. "You comin' or what?"
She slipped out five shanix and set them on the bar, standing carefully. She was pleased to find her balance had been restored. "Let's go hear this speech."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We've achieved something!
It took me from sometime in March to June 4th to complete this book, and I am SO glad it's done. Particularly Chapter Four that took me nearly a month to write on its own.
This book is only five chapters and a prologue, but I wanted to start small. It was originally going to be a novel but, well, stuff happened.
I'll publish some deleted scenes for you within the next few weeks. I hope you enjoyed this story. If you didn't, well, there's plenty more out there.
Thus ends Program: Rewrite.
~Lethasa
YOU ARE READING
Program: Rewrite
Fanfiction'It's time to pull everything together and put all my plans into action. It's time to initiate Program: Rewrite.' ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Shade has been a spy for much of her life. She spent years serving the Autobots during which she learned one...
